One can't help believing gentlemen with Roman noses

"What's geographical survey do you think?" Ignoring the giant holes in her lobes and the mess of plum hair, she's quite attractive really. And she's like me, hugely disappointed that all we ever talk about are hills and what they might contain. I smile and hope I don't look too ragged. I know I do, but it's nice to pretend nobody else can see. So I smile winningly and unstick my tongue from the roof of my mouth: "s'like map looking"

Map Looking.

Oh the shame.

My mother gave me two pieces of advice when I started drinking: don't drink vodka with orange and don't drink so much that you make an arse of yourself. And I try to keep it in mind as I stare at the bottom of a bottle. I think I do ok. I talk shit and there's been a couple of silly moments and I always dance like a fool, not alcohol related I just always dance like a fool. I know I'm graceless enough to be so very far from sexy but that's what spirits, dimmed lighting and booming bass lines are for: ignoring obvious flaws.

I'm a mass of bruises. The triangle is gone. This morning in fact I noticed the last hints of yellow geometry had finally faded. I'll miss it, mostly because I couldn't show it off to anyone. Still mystified as to how it got there but I guess I'll never know. The rest of me is dotted with greyish green smudges. It's idle curiosity that consumes me these days. They don't hurt, not really, and they're just results of clumsiness. Doors, walls, tables, people. I don't pay enough attention. I'm too wrapped up inside my own head. I'm also a terrible fidget. And completely distracted by a dozen other things I caught the edge of my lip between my teeth and clamped down until my eyes watered. Sucking the blood away surreptitiously it struck me that this was an incredibly stupid thing to do. I mean seriously, what the fuck is wrong with me. I stayed out all night drinking away my money and grinding away my cares but I woke up the next morning with all the same shit. Same hang-ups, same regrets of things left unsaid and foolish mistakes I'm tired of learning from. And god, I'm bored. I switched off a little. Slumped down and listened rather than participated. I need shaking up but I'm too much of a coward to do it myself.

But it's not as bad as it's been before. There's a cosy casualness settling in my limbs, feeling secure in who I am, even if she's a liar and a fool. And I don't know if it'll last or if I'll end up driving people away again but it's a comfort for the moment. And the bump of angry healing on my bottom lip is another comfort. It's painful and it's annoying but it'll pass and it gives my mouth an occupation while I'm dreaming away time I should be spending doing something productive. It's a question of perspective, and on the whole I'm doing pretty alright.