I commute from San Francisco to Petaluma everyday. This morning there was a bad accident on the bridge and I was stopped for a while and I remembered about this blog where I used to write up feelings. Even though no one else reads it, it feels good to express thoughts and feelings. I've purchased blank journals in the past but never write in them. Too old fashioned I guess. Typing into my iPhone feels more natural. Now I don't remember the urge I had to type here, but I drank some wine, so who gives a fuck.
I swear there was a purpose to this.
I had some short lived inspiration from the alcohol but now it's gone.
Every fucking single morning after I drink I hate myself and my life, yet every night after work drinking a couple glasses is the best part of the entire day. It's very confusing.
I hate this conversation. Wtf. I just want to enjoy the moments that's all.
Tosca
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