ooh my concrete jungle

I've been afraid to write the past few days. I don't know what to say, where to be honest, where to sugar coat. My mood has altered as much as the weather: hot one day, icy cold the next.

Friday night I drank myself numb again. I had had an amazing day. A long walk to Value Village brought me alive, surrounded by fabrics and materials at my prices. And I drowned myself in vodka and shots. Telling you this I feel like the dreaded protagonist, the one we follow through the novel, sighing, wishing they would just stop the self abuse. End the vicious cycle. Every weekend I drink and post my regrets. Once again I emptied my stomach into the toilet. Woke up with unrecognizable eyes. Dragged my ass to work. Flashing that very ass, as it was a damned stormy day and I happened to be in a skirt.

Saturday night I made the decision to end the binge drinking. My body, mind, and soul don't deserve any more abuse. They will suffer enough of it in time anyways. There are still hurdles and relationships to conquer. It is Sunday and I'm getting my life in line.

Reality check: this tuition was anything but free. I got myself in motion and began studying for my philosophy test. Got into my English novel. I have one hell of a week ahead of me, tests and projects galore. And so I must apply myself. All the while I am trying to make this life find a balance. Enjoying comforts and luxuries without abusing them. The word of the day seems to be abuse doesn't it?

Lets change it to comfort. I am more and more comfortable in my different environments here. At work I'm able to dance around, sing out loud, and be my own obnoxious self while feeling comfortable. Same goes for residence. My room is also draped in personal touches. Plenty of pink, and many budget attempts towards a comfortable atmosphere, which I have found quite successful. Everyday my concrete jungle becomes more and more comfortable.