long sentence

Yeah, man, I’ve had nights like that too – the train starts slowly enough for you to jump off at any point but you stay in your seat, and you’re chasing a buzz with a fistful of prescription meds and a bottle of supermarket vodka and to begin with it feels like you’re escaping something but deep inside you know you’re just digging yourself further down into the same old hole and you can barely see the hand in front of your face after a couple of hours and you’re squinting at a grubby computer screen trying to tempt other lost souls to come round and sleep with you and initially you’re trying to sell yourself with wit and intellect but pretty soon you’ve got no wit or intellect left and if you were to meet up with another 2am basket case you’d barely be able to get a coherent sentence out and by 3am you’re offering to blow strangers in the carpark but the rest of the world isn’t interested and they’re all going to bed so you stagger through to the sofa and try to masturbate but you can’t get hard so you give up and wish you had more drugs or booze left but all there is is a pipe of DMT which you know you probably shouldn’t be smoking in this state but you do and then the whole world dissolves into a sickening blur of screeching static and you wake up a few hours later with your face glued to the cushion with dried vomit and you’re so relieved to find there’s nobody laid beside you, either dead or alive, and everything’s just as it always is.

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