When the lights go down in the city...

You make bad decisions that lead to drunken sobbing to your best friend at a bus stop at 5:30 in the morning. Then you have a seriously deep and meaningful conversation with her about how much you hate yourself and wish you could take back everything you did but you can't because it's on you now like a stain. A gross, disgusting stain that only time will wash off but you're so desperate to lose it you continue to make a giant fool of yourself by whimpering and crying for her to stay. But she goes anyways. Leaving you to deal with what you've done and who you've become on your own, because that's the only way you'll ever learn to face it.

Have you ever felt so ashamed you can't even cry anymore? So disgusted with yourself that your stomach turns when you think about it? Yet again I find the most inappropriate time to utterly breakdown, and at the same time I can't talk about it with the person that I should because she is in a completely different time zone.

And fuck. The landlady's daughter was here the whole night and probably heard all of my pathetic ramblings and problems. Could today get any better? Really?

But I've made my drunken, sloppy, irresponsible bed and I have to sleep in it. Who the fuck am I?

Why do I always blog when I should be doing responsible things?

It is 8:22 am here in Vienna and I should get in the shower and get ready for class at 9:30...but I needed to get this off my chest:

I don't know what I want.



That means so many things, yet is undefinable when I try to explain. So I will leave it at that and when I figure out how, why, and what I mean..I might get back to you.

Shower time!