I babysit this grown man who is a sexist, depressive, boring and unusually suicidal for a scientist.
He is a complete idiot who don't understand communication and social interaction. Hence why I am his only friend. He is a year older than me. But he is immature, human and sometimes vulnerable.
He doesn't wear a mask around me. I know he is a monster, he is obnoxious and annoying. He keeps telling me he loves me and cares about me but I don't feel it. I refuse to think that maybe he will get the hint that I won't date and marry him. Because I have gave him the benefit of the doubt too many times which I normally end up hurt and more heart-broken than before. I won't end up a victim to a narcissistic man. I guess it's awareness or maybe it's me giving up on him. I don't know which. I am just not sure whether I want to burn the bridge or not.

If you have ever read The Host by Stephanie Meyer then you know it ends with "People are strange" with the reply, "The strangest". I hate the Twilight series but loved the werewolf aspect of it. My mom read the Twilight series and forced me to watch the Twilight series with her growing up. I personally love Cassandra Clare books. That's the difference between my mom and I. I give an in-depth analysis of every book I read so I have my own well read opinions while mom enjoy the fandom high. My mom stopped reading fiction books when her church friends thought they were the devil's work. I still read all types of fiction books. I watched The Mortal Instruments: The City of Bones the movie 10 times before I actually started reading Cassandra Clare books. The show Shadowhunters was a poor adaption of the books. No matter what series you read "People are strange" is going to be the overall take away. The Beautiful Creatures series is great because forbidden love is wonderful to read.

People rushing by without a second thought.
People rushing by, couples walking, children looking at the different colors and I walked by myself.
People rushing by, getting Christmas gifts and people going to church while I walk home with fancy coffee in hand because I already did my Christmas shopping.
People rushing by forgetting to enjoy the adventures of Christmas when in the end we will die one day.

Normal people are ignorant, self-absorbed, controlled by society and lonely. I understand people far too well and sometimes I forget that I am human too. I may not be normal in any way shape or form but my empathy makes me feel beyond human in some ways.
I can read who someone is by their habits, in their actions and how they speak. Characteristics are easy to me because I am writer it's practically my job to observe everyone and everything with a curious point of view. Being mentally ill I gain wisdom through my experiences. I don't want to bottle up my emotions because that's unhealthy psychologically and mentally.

I lost my reading glasses and now I have to wait to go to Walmart to get new ones.
I lost my reading glasses and now I wearing these stupid blue light glasses.
I lost my reading glasses and now I am all sorts of bored.

Yeah it's going to be one of those poems. I already discussed scandals so why not politics? I know you think it's going to be all popularity propaganda. Some parts yes. Other parts are going to be scientific facts. Real stories have facts. So why not this? Sure it's a poem. Watch me turn this into art. Politics are starched expensive collars, noses in the air and pride in the chest. What makes them better than everyone else? They will tell you. It's not the confidence or the over-product smell good hair on their. Nor is it the fancy dresses and over-priced tuxes. It's the ever growing tide of pride, narcissism and over-indulgent life they carry with them. It's the galas, ribbon-cuttings and over-the-top parties that draw them in. High class is what most people call it. Sure it's what most people call "paradise" but never called "home". Being rich doesn't make you soulfully rich. Some of the most arrogant, rich people I know will tear apart someone's reputation with one rumor. Yes they were popular people but it's how animal-like they were that terrified me. How can you call someone friend and destroy them in the worst, most inhuman way possible? What business are they actually running?

When people compliment me, I think, "What the hell do I do with this? Do I hug them? Do I smile? What if they are a stranger I don't touch strangers."
When people flirt with me, I think, "Make a joke they might laugh. Okay that was stupid. Do something else."
When people talk to me, I think, "Okay socialization! Where did those words come from? What was that? Who is this again? Name...name, come on I need a name! If I say you then it will be too generalized. If I make a snarky comment will they hate me?"
When I sing, I think, "What will people think of me? How do I sound? Wow, that was good. Can I do it again?"

The awakening deliciousness. The caffeine rolling down my throat.
Milky galaxies swirling, cooling down the steaming brown liquid.
Oh how the brown hues call forth my mind to awake.
The brown liquid I take every morning to handle my mother, in the afternoon to handle work and at night to handle my mental triggers.
In a way it's my drug that manages to bring me back to happiness.
To understand humans so well I need the dark brown liquid.
Coffee isn't alcohol. I know that much. I prefer the bittersweet twang of the Coffee or the buzz of the alcohol. For most humans it's the other way around. I don't understand most humans. Hence being a nerdy rebel. I don't need alcohol to survive my mother, work nor my mental triggers. I just need the Coffee to handle all that. Scientifically, Coffee is a mood stabilizer with mood swings it's the perfect drug and it doesn't need an ID to get nor a doctor's approval.

From an angel's eyes to a poet's pen.
Poems are made.
Humble beginnings is where we all began.
Trapped in routines. Caught up in religious traditions.
Freed by making poetry.

It was you and me; now it is only me.
It was you and me, I hope he loves you right.
It was you and me; we were together for a month and a half.
It was you and me; our nights at my house were amazing.
It was you and me; I am glad you moved on and we are just friends.
It was you and me; I am glad neither of us regret what we had.

Lost people are simply people who want a tribe.
Broken hearted people want people who can fill that void.
Broken minded people want people who can understand them.
It is easy to know because I used to be a lost and lonely person a long time ago. I was a troubled, strange adorable kid who made friends fast and they were usually as weird as I was.
Finding broken people are easy to search for when you are one.
I won't tell their true stories I have a moral code when it comes to friends of old. My past is mine and no one can take that away from me. I can only tell my own stories from my perspective.

My emotions show up on my face.
My mood swings are sharp and all consuming.
As the saying goes "I wear my Heart on my Sleeves".
Throughout the years I have learned to guide my mood swings to my benefit. To let the emotions flow through me and feel every ounce of them. Not stopping the emotions if it's one I don't want. Not pushing the emotion back into my heart. Just letting all of my emotions be valid, it's a peaceful and happy life to live. What I have learned is that I can't control anger and sadness. Those are the two most powerful emotions on the human spectrum. If you can't control it, feel it completely. Sure anger is a dangerous emotion but so is sadness. Guiding anger into passion to a healthy way to guide it.
Guiding sadness into happiness is a way to make the sad moments feel more valid. Having anxiety and depression ever since middle school it took awhile to guide my emotions the right way. In high school dealing with grief was like wanting to forget the tidal wave heading straight towards you but of you can't runaway from your emotions forever. I know so I have tried multiple times throughout my life. It helps no one including you. I find talking about these emotions to your closest friends who you trust helps a lot. Sure they aren't therapists but they are smart enough to know you fully. Understanding someone is the most intimate thing for we humans to do. Empathy is the ultimate intelligence. Sympathy is just surface level comfort. Empathy is walking two moons in their shoes and loving someone for what they are going through.

Yes, I have been to hell and back several times but I am Still Me.
Yes, I have had multiple emotional and mental meltdowns over the many years I have been alive but I am Still Me.
Yes, I have chosen my path of being tender hearted, passionate and relentless. I won't let the world destroy who I am for the sake of external sanity so **** the status quote! I am Still Me.
Yes, I have had awful days due to my anxiety and depression because caring too much and have my entire body ache in a dull agony don't mix well. There was one day in high school I took two ibuprofens instead of one to make forget my heartache from grieving over losing my best friend. It made me forget my heartache for a whole day but I don't remember the school day. I am Still Me.
Yes, people think I am weird for wanting to write instead of something practical. People many times have stared at me like I was crazy including my own family. I tend to stare back and smile as though their distress for my rebellious nature is my award. I am Still Me.
Yes, I have been called an enigma before by my older sister and weird by my peers, I take it as a compliment. I prove people wrong for a living. So take your boxes and stuff them up your *** because I will leave your head spinning. If you are judgmental about people then I hate you because I bet that stick in your *** covers all of the blood you taste in your mouth, being narrow minded doesn't make you better than anyone. I am Still Me.

Why do we fade into crowds, we don't belong in?
I don't belong in a church because I am bisexual.
I continue to go to church because my straight friends are there.
But they think I am straight when I am not.
I prefer women. I have slept with women.
And I don't care what the church says. I still want a girlfriend.
Even if the church hates me for existing.
Why do we fade into crowds?
Maybe it is because it is easy to do. But fading is just existing.
I want to live my life authentically. One of these days I will.

Hiding in Plain Sight, yet no one at church can see the real me, all they see is my faith and that is all there is to them.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet they don't the blue, purple and pink of the true colors of my heart and I know there is more to life than just faith.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet I bite my tongue thinking I will slip up and tell them I am not straight. When I know that if I did tell them I am not straight they would rebuke me for being me.
Hiding in Plain Sight, I am proud to be bisexual. Yet when I look around at the church I was raised in, I know I would lose all my church friends.
Hiding in Plain Sight, yet none of them see me.

Being schizophrenic, you see horrific things in your nightmares.
Being bipolar, every emotion is supercharged.
Being bisexual, don't get erased by society's standards.
There isn't one way to be you. There isn't one way to have a heart.
There isn't one way to have a mind. Being who you are and speak up for yourself or someone else who matters to you.

I watched you get undressed. It was a mission trip. You in your bra and *******. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to take off the rest of the coverings and have my skin next to yours. I wanted everyone to know in some way that you were mine. I would have made myself a fool because two best friends who are Christian girls aren't supposed to do that. But I just stared at your smooth skin as long as I could.
I wanted to take your hand in my hand then proceed to call you babe. But you had to be a straight girl and fall for the guy in the praise band who played guitar. Typical. Just typical. You guys broke up in high school. You guys were my best friends. You two were unstoppable heroes. Now neither of you two talk to each other. Your parents won't even talk to each other. What kind of love was so bad even if it ended mutually that none of you two will talk about it? I know it's a Christian town but what the actual **** is wrong with you two? I may not be straight but I declare you two *******.

The Divide of you and me came gradually over the years.
You became a monster of your own making scarring me with trauma of you wanting to **** yourself when we got into fights, you obsessing over me and making me the reason for you to live.
This codependency I can't take it anymore.
I can't stand your sexist jokes, your pleading for us to be more than friends, you draining all of my mental energy, you thinking your better than everyone else and you repeatedly ignoring the fact that I would never be happy with you. I am one of the rare good humans.
I remember you being a sweet boy with bluish green eyes and now you are a shell of a man pining for me, a woman that will never love you the way you want me to.

The men I work with at the gas station in my small town respect me and treat me as their equal. But the new kid questions my ability to work there. He is the Boy with an Innocent Heart.
He spreads rumors about me, insults anyone who tries to help him, gets into arguments with the kitchen manager and begs for more responsibilities from the store manager.
He thinks he is going to recognized for his cutting corners attitude but he doesn't. He is childish, lonely, unimpressive, a ****** canoe, problematic, spoiled and a selfish *****.
I work just as hard as any of the men I work with. He is worst than the Lazy Man.

No one cares because No One is Watching.
If the crowds aren't watching then still be you.
If no one is paying attention then give them small interesting details about you that will get them begging for more.
If no one is giving a **** then surprise everyone with devote stubbornness and strong headedness.
Being who you are doesn't make you less human. Being emotional doesn't make you worthless. Being the strong and vulnerable friend doesn't make you lonely. If being a softie makes you a loser then watch how they end up alone and you with plenty of friends because having a heart doesn't make you a loser it makes you human.
The heartless and soulless people were scorned by their past but that doesn't them any less human or any less of a ****.
Being considered an equal among geniuses is an honor because equality is what everyone wants. Respect is given, trust is earned and honor is put under consideration until proven right.

Last night. I dreamt of you.
Last night. The white wine burned going down my throat.
Last night. I was wondering if you are okay.
Last night. My mind kept drifting back to you.
I kept thinking of your lips upon mine.
I kept thinking of your beautiful dark blue eyes and your smile.
I kept thinking about us.

More family events today.
Family game night, last night.
Tiredness from last night sticking to me like a second skin.

I met him at Coffee Boy's coffee shop. He is an old guy who is married. He asks every girl my age if they have a boyfriend which I find rude because he assumes every girl is straight.
He visits me at work each night which sometimes creeps me out.
He is four times my age yet is fascinated by strong opinions.
He reads my poetry as if I am his grandchild which I am not.
Everyone in town loves him yet he is obsessed about me.
I have a social life too I just want him to respect that.

I have done a lot of stupid things and you aren't one of them. I am an open book just in multiple languages. I don't have a bucket list.
I think about dying on my worst days but not to **** myself just in general. Anxiety leads to heart disease with exercise. Depression kills 3 in 4 mentally ill people.
I have done a lot of stupid things and I am not an idiot.
I am not my mental illnesses, I just have mental illnesses. If you are reading this I am the gayest girl in my hometown and a legend.

Is the courage to love worth it?
Short answer, yes
If you were to ask how so?
Long answer, to love and be loved in return is the greatest thing in the world.
So the courage to love is absolutely worth it. Whether it's new love or old love starting anew. It is always worth it. Because she or he is worth it to you. Because to love is be selfless and love beyond yourself. So yes have the courage to love.
Love so much that you forget what other people are thinking.
Love beyond who you are and become someone amazing.
Because chances are you are amazing.

Blonde hair and black glasses.
Light tan skin and dark blue eyes.
One night, long ago.
One time her older brother waved at me from his ******* truck and said, "My little sister talks about you all the time."
I smiled and waved back. Saying nothing as he drove past me.

The endless, light blue sky holds humanity underneath like cold blanket.
Of winter morn, people going to business meetings, people still buying Christmas presents and waiting for the end of the year.
The endless, light blue sky for one I am seeing today, you are seeing too.
The endless, light blue sky of winter morn, where ice is like glass and snow crunches under foot.

I read in a textbook that 3 out 4 people with mental illness commit suicide. I have only attempted suicide once in my life a long time ago.
I know what true hopelessness feels like and it's the worst thing to ever feel. It's as though every cell in your body is turning against until your mind tells you to give up because you are in so much agony.
What are we to live in a hopeless and cruel world?
What are we to defy statistics?
What are we to become so resistant to despair that getting out of bed is a triumph?
What are we to be warriors rising from the grief and hopelessness?
What are we to be so mentally and emotionally indestructible to our own darkness?
What are we to mature from pain?
Are we angels or demons? Depends on the person. The true test of character is the how and why.
Are we inhuman? Depends on if you turned into a monster or not because certainly the test took away something childish from you.
Change is becoming so beyond your own standards that you are someone new.

If you know me then great. If you don't then welcome to my life.
I am a band nerd. No surprise there. Music is what makes me better creatively. It helps me think. Ever heard of Mozart, or Bach? I love them. I know it's classical. Ever heard of The Fray, or Paramore? They are punk rock. Huge difference between genres. Duh, use your ears.
Octaves and dynamics are fun to play with. Changing keys is a *****.
Music is Medicine! It's scientifically proven to improve mood and memory. I hate stereotypes, imagine me being the rebel to ***** with people's minds. That's better. I can either be your morning sun or your holy fire. Either way, you can get burnt if you have too much of me. No I am not always a superhero. I am a rebel. I get to make up my own rules, I follow them. If you ask about my rules expect them to change each day.

If I touch you will you smile? If we go into a deep conversation will you be interesting to me? Are you worth me losing my mind?
What obsessions and passions you have?
I am curious. I have always been curious about everything. When I read people's stories through social interactions I notice a lot. The little details that matter in a story.
How Real Are You? Will you cry when I tell my tragic story? Will you love me for my quirks? What kind of jokes do you tell? Do you have a sense of humor? Let's figure it out.

Snow falling.
Shivering in a coat.
Sun covered up by the clouds.
Snow glistening.

The whoosh of going down snowy slopes.
Walking back up the snowy ***** out of breath.
Fresh wind pumping my veins.
Coughing out the fresh wind at the bottom of the *****.
Almost too much wind pumping through my veins.
Freedom and being alive at the whoosh going down the snowy slopes.

My little sister grew up being my translator. I would be lost without her. I have always been quiet, soft spoken and sensitive.
People didn't understand why I was so shy. I had to repeat myself a lot which I hated.
My little sister went with me everywhere to be my voice. I have a voice of my own and I can speak for myself it just took me awhile to be confident. I would make snarky comments and my little sister would try to insult me which wouldn't work.
We would fight a lot as sisters do. Mom and dad would take my side in a heated argument. Mom and dad wanted my little sister to be just like me which is probably why my little sister was always so cranky.
I always wanted her to be herself as any good sister would want.

My mother always gave me childhood trauma that my father made up for. I always enjoyed wear boyish clothing. My mom had to force me into a dress when I was a kid. Where my mom gave me sad and angry memories, my dad would give me joyful and loving memories.
My mom and dad divorced when I was 7 years old. They would fight about my siblings and I. My dad always defended my sanity to my mom.
One of the things I heard when I was 7 years old my dad said to my mom, "You wanted to have her!" That's when I knew they were talking about me. My older sister was expensive sports wise. I was the expensive kid therapy wise. I had reading help in kindergarten. I had speech therapy from 1st grade to 3rd grade. I had physical therapy since I was in preschool to 5th grade. I had emotional therapy from middle school to college. I stopped one of my friends from erasing himself from the earth multiple times. Growing up friends I thought I could count on to stay around left me. Being abandoned by my old friends gave me trust issues. I still don't trust people easily. If you are going to drain my soul, take a piece of my heart then leave me. What was the point of getting emotionally invested in you?

I fell in love with her in college, he wanted to control me with every ounce of his monster-like charm.
She gave me a wild love to fight for, he destroyed my confidence and mocked me for it.
I wanted to escape his hopeless grasp, she gave me a new beginning.
I felt stuck between two worlds. One giving something to live for and the other drowning me in my own depression.
I was leading people with my light and couldn't pull myself out of his perverted sense of reality. The more I faded from him the more he held on tight to what was left. I knew there was nothing left and I stayed out of obligation.

I go to the coffee shop on my days off hoping I will meet the one but nothing.
I think I need to join a dating app. Maybe then I will meet the one.

Magic is fake, I seek no wealth from any psychic.
Magic is fake, they are just people hiding behind a mask.
Magic is fake, they are just people with pretentious mumbo jumbo that are begging for money from vulnerable people and it is sickening.
Magic is fake, mediums can go ***** themselves.
Don't seek anything from mediums or psychics because they are phonies.
Magic is fake, all it leaves you with is a headache and more confused than you were before.

God told me to keep going.
And to focus on the center of my heart.
But to keep going where? What am I doing that He wants me to keep doing? I know my heart is special to God.
It has been a Holy Spirit filled weekend.
It may be me making new friends at work or me making poetry.
So I am going to keep making poetry.

I can feel the fire raging inside of me.
I keep it bay by journaling and writing poetry.
Yet the fire rages because I am sick and tired of hiding in the closet.
The fire rages because I want to tell them there is more to life than just chastity and purity culture.
The fire rages because I want to tell them how satisfying and amazing it is to kiss a girl.
But I know they will never understand because they are ignorant to the truth and spirit that thrive in the lgbtq community.

I accidently got my arm cut by the metal cutter of a saran wrap box when I was putting away dough buckets.
I got five stitches in my arm but I am okay. It hurts a lot since yesterday I couldn't feel my arm at all due to the numbing injection the doctor gave me. Feeling pain is okay it's just today I feel really tired as if all of energy got drained out of me no matter how much coffee I have. I am excited for my future scar but for right now I have to deal with the pain.

Most people are like glass, transparent and fragile.
Glass is of many colors and designs like people.
As though the secrets behind the glass are just plays compared to the pictures on display.
Secrets are the poison of the world. Anyone can make them. Anyone can hurt anybody. I see right through them and observe their behaviors. I discern the characteristics and know the problems that surround them.
Looking through Glass if you know what to look for.

Very few people have seen it.
Very few people have experienced it.
It's my wild side or should I say the darker version of it. I am not all rainbows and sunshine. Sometimes I am holy fire and everlasting instincts. Scorching and fierce. Harmful by actions and ruthless by words. Something primal. Something relentless and is a raging beast inside of me. Sometimes as cold as ice and as calculated as a mongoose. It's like losing all control in your body and something else takes over. Rather someone else who has no rage in any other way I have experienced. Imagine you living your life and a rage, full of fire and ice was yanking at your chest but when it's free you are left with the damage that is caused. Everything bottled up is spilled out and there is the canvas created by someone else who happened to be you. It's beautiful, honest, terrifying, unnerving, messy and bizarrely all you. That's the best way I can describe it.

Being fully healed from lovesickness is wanting to love but curiosity still wins every time.
She is vivacious with her dark blue eyes and slender body.
She is wants me to be more than friends with her.
She flirts with a smile and captures my heart.

If Love is a Measure then the world have fallen short because it is full of hate.
If Love is a Measure then envy is overflowing in people's hearts.
If Love is a Measure then selfishness is what people nowadays benefit from.
If Love is a Measure then divorce and cheating is happening more often in this world.
If Love is a Measure then unrequited love is devouring the hopeless.
If Love is a Measure then change must be required of the true to enact
as the guides of the lost.

The Girl with Green Eyes is back in town. I expected her to be back in town sometime. It's just seeing her again makes me soft as if my heart warms inside my chest and I can't help myself by smiling like a dork.
Hugging her again reminds me of the good old days where we were the power duo of the church. We still are the power duo of best friends going on two different paths. She is still an idiot that sings like an angel and she is still beautiful to me. She is a good person and I know her heart as though it's my own. I don't hate her and I never hated her. It's just she is everything I am not. She blends into this small religious town, she is the poster girl of worship band, she is popular because everyone loves her and she is agreeable.
In this town we are a package deal you can't have one without the other. Sometimes I am envious of her because she is the picture perfect straight girl that makes me less lonely at church and I can't lose her. Not yet. She is just so predictable and I can't help myself by falling for her charm in a platonic way. She is my weakness maybe it's because she helped me overcome my stage fright, my fear of being second best and my fear of being abandoned. She never gives up on me and I believe in the good within her.
She apologized for being a **** to me last summer and I deleted the text because I was still angry at her. I forgive her now because I know she depends on me to be her hero when I am a rebel with trust issues. She is always there when I needed her and I am always there for her when she needs me. That's what best friends are for. Maybe it's because we have been best friends for 9 years and I know hurting her would feel good for 5 seconds but not worth losing her for a lifetime.

Here's to Love that one day I will someday find my true love in a forever.
Here's to Love that one day I will have more friends that I trust and stay by my side.
Here's to Love that one day I won't be alone anymore.
Here's to Love that one day I won't be trapped in someone else's world ever again.
Here's to Love in hopes that I won't be lost ever again.
Here's to Love that one day I will listen to my instincts and learn to walk away at the first red flag.
Here's to Love that one day things will change.

That is to say going to church isn't fun for me yet it is fun for me.
That is to say I know the Holy Spirit and Jesus is real because I felt their presence. It is just sometimes I question if God is there because I don't know if he listens to my prayers.
That is to say I know He exists because you can't have the Holy Spirit and Jesus without God. I know my Heavenly Father loves me even if my church hates me for being bisexual.
That is to say I am spiritual not religious. I believe God the Father, Jesus the Son and the Holy Spirit loves people who are good people.
Because the outcasts, black sheep of the family, rebels and people of all sorts deserve to be loved and I think the Holy Trinity loves them.
That is to say to be godly is to love your neighbor and follow the ten commandments which I do follow the ten commandments and love my neighbor. So to be godly should be that simple. Because to cherry pick the Bible would be ignorant and stupid. I don't care who hates me for the way I see the gospel.

When I loss my best friend at 15 years old, 6 months later I attempted suicide. I felt as though no one else could fix me or even fill the spiritual hole in my heart.
As if no one could understand the pain I felt.
As if the aching grief pounding at my heart was going to swallow me whole.
My family members were asleep and I had a pocket knife out.
I kept staring at my wrist but I couldn't do it.
It was like my best friend held my wrist and I thought about all of the good people in my life. So I placed the pocket knife away and turned out my bedroom lights. Then I cried myself asleep.

Sometimes I am a hero and other times I am a villain.
The stories change from person to person.
I embrace my madness and my flaws.
Look me in the eyes, what do you see?
I am insane and I am okay with that. Other people aren't okay with my insanity. I can't cure my insanity. It's simply there lurking and waiting for me to feel insecure.
Look me in the eyes, do I seem like the person to manipulate anyone?
Let me answer that for you no I don't use people that's boring and evil. People use me not the other way around.

Drinking to drink is fun because you are in a happy mood.
Drinking while depressed is just asking for the drunkenness to drown you in your sorrow.
Drinking to drink is easy because you don't have to worry about what anyone else thinks.
Drinking while depressed is basically strapping yourself to a rocket and hoping not to die.
Drinking to drink everything is light and bubbly.
Drinking while depressed is diving into the drunkenness and hoping it does **** you.
Drinking to drink is joyful and lighthearted.
Drinking while depressed is hoping the reality fades as you drink yourself into insanity.