Being under the influence of alcohol is like having your conscience locked up in a cage while some retard plays with your body.
It was screaming for me to walk upright, talk normally, but no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't do it. I didn't know how close I was to having alcohol poisoning. For all its worth, my dad is not mad at me for getting drunk. How can he condemn me when he knows its going to happen anyway. He was just upset that I didn't call to let him know where I was, though I doubt he'd appreciate me calling him while continuously throwing up.
I've never felt this way before, and now I know my limits and will never cross them again.
I made myself look like such a fool, I just hope my image is not tarnished in the eyes of those with me that night.
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