Always Too Late

I'm down to my last shot of whiskey, and it looks like all that's left is the vodka at this point. Talked to my little girl tonight; first time in four days. It's really hard to choke back the tears at this point, and the man in me tells me to just take another drink. I hate living like this every night, skipping meals for the warm comfort of liquor, shunning conversation for the loneliness of my room. My life is taking a direction that is completely unexpected, and I need to purge everyone out of it. I continually hurt everyone I know, and if I haven't hurt you yet, I will. My children think I'm a failure as a father, and the only one who is too young to figure that out yet will come along eventually. I'm so, so tired. So tired. I don't want to sleep, I don't want to eat, I don't want to work. I want to drive away forever and forget all of you exist. Forget I exist. If it weren't for that little girl I'd have probably gone by now. Will she really know the difference, though? My whole existence will be a blink in her eye, and maybe she could hang on to some happy memories. She's only two, so whatever memories she would have would be gone anyway. Something drastic needs to happen. I don't know what that is, and I'm not advocating anything, but my life must change. I can't keep running away from my problems, but I don't know how to solve them. I fucking hate the person in the mirror. HATE THEM. I FUCKING HATE YOU.

You want to walk around pretending everything is fine when you've already died inside. You think you're fooling everyone with your stupid crooked grin and dumb quick wit that everyone finds so arrogant. What do you really think you're doing? You're walking through life with blinders on and hoping for the best. Great plan jackass. I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. EVERY FUCKING THING ABOUT YOU. Better cut your losses while it still looks good from the outside.