they have escaped. the furtive little bastards. the capital letters have run away and i cannot find them. this is just as well... i'm not in a very "capital" mood. in fact, i'm quite morose. i havent had a drink in more than a week, and i miss it so much.
i miss the companionship, i miss the talks, i miss the seeing and tasting it, i miss the feel of a shotglass in my hand and the flames shooting down my throat as i inhale a responsible amount of liquor. her name was vodka, and she was lovely. i miss whiskey too, she was a wild one, but was always welcome. tequila was overrated, but she had her appeal, and in many respects was a very respectable one. rum, well, lets be honest, fuck rum, that loose bitch took everything that was good in me and left it on the sidewalk. i miss brandy, she did not come around very often, but she was the finest of them all, a true pleasure... knew how to work a man.
i miss them so, so much i am tempted to write it in caps, but i cannot find the capital letters. i do not miss them as much as my liquors, but they came in handy from time to time, especially when writing stories in which i yelled and screamed and demanded truth and justice. i'm so lonely, all the letters and liquor have left me.
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