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May 19, 2007
And I love getting drunk, because it is surrendering to slack sensation, watching the walls fall down and dancing in the dust and kicking the bricks around and sometimes in the mad eyes of the drunkard you see the real human poetry: resistance and acquiescence, hate and love, fear and courage; restraint and release; despair and hope. Booze loosens shit up and lets paradoxes run wild. You leave me. I have cancer. I got beaten up. My parents hate me. You died and I loved you. There is no god, no reason, no point. I feel good. I will live.