Home alone, drinking wine. Just wondering how much wine it takes to get me drunk. I haven’t been drunk in a while. I don’t like being drunk. But sometimes it’s cool.

It’s cool to get drunk when you realize that you will forever be alone. Because your ego is to big. Because nobody is good enough. Because everyone make a small but key mistake.

And I will newer have sex with a real man again. Probably. I get along fine so far. But if it will be to much, there is a sex shop just around the corner from where i live. Thou I wouldn’t mind from time to time for someone to just grab me and press me against the wall and .. Well, like in the movies where all the photographs fall to the floor and brake, but you don’t care, because there is a strong blue-eyed dark hair man, who won’t stop until he has you.

It’s ok to get drunk and listen to Michael Jacksons greatest hits.

I’m so awesome. I made dinner for i don’t know how many people in two hours without going to the store. I just emptied the fridge. And they all loved what I made. And justified, because it was good. Yes, great I’m a marriage material, but there really isn’t anyone who would even bother to ask me out on a date or whatever.

I’m a damaged person. I’m a crazy person, I throw things trough the window of a tall building. I’m a nice person, I Google things on my phone for a complete stranger. I’m not a nice person, I always ignore the homeless people asking me for money.

I don’t know… It’s cool but it’s not cool, maybe it’s the wine talking, but you know.. These things are there. And Diana is still dirty. I can’t listen to trance music. It makes me feel like a cat with a duckktape stuck to her head.

And what is the point. What is the point of loving someone against their will. Sometimes I’m intentionally mean to a person that I feel could develop affections for me. I am unbearable, so they can’t love me. Because I don’t want them to love me. Loving me is a privilege, not everyone gets to do it. I know, sound weird, but that’s the way it is. I already said I have a big ego. And yet it gets very small when someone I would like to love me, doesn’t love me.

Need more wine…

I know people love me, so to say no one loves me would just be stoopid. People love me and i love them. These people are my friends.

But that’s not the kind of love i crave for. I crave for the kind of love where you love someone so much, that you write poems about it, that you make songs about it. When everything you do has something to do with loving that someone. And here i think I’m doing something wrong. I mean, i must be… Staying in doers hardly helps in meeting new people. But then again I’m not very got at meeting new people . And i just found out i cut my hand. Lately i hurt myself a lot. Not intentionally, i just got clumsier. I have all kinds of scratches and bruises and I’m starting to think that the universe is trying to tell me, that I’m in the wrong place. Since i get most of my bruises at work I’m guessing i need to find another job. I agree. Cleaning does not make me happy. It’s just something I’m confident in doing. I would much rather design stuff, but I fucked up. I’m twenty-six and I have no experience. I thought if i just go to school and get a job after.. Yeah, but I fucked up. I didn’t finish school. I wasted time. Sure I learned the basics so I can also be a deejay from time to time and i love it, but I’m not good at that either. Well I have a good music selection but I’m not good with the whole mixing thing. I am far from being a proper deejay. And I am far from being a good designer. And I sure as hell don’t know shit on how to market my poor skills. Because in the end it comes down to how good you are at self promotion. And here is where i have no ego what so ever. This is something I know nothing about. And i hate myself for it. I hate how I’m actually a failure. I am the failure. I mean I clean toilets for fucks sake.. I clean toilets, because I don’t think I’m good at anything else.

And that’s why I’m home alone, drinking wine and writing same old crap about myself over and over again.

Also it turned out it only takes half a bottle of wine to get me drunk. Oh well, that’s because I usualy don’t drink.