by Chris Conroy
I drank too much again last night. It's safe to say another friend was lost because of this. I can't remember exactly how things unfolded but judging from the dried blood on the knuckles of my right hand and my swollen left eye, I'd say it was quite a show. A few more nights like that and I'll be completely alone. Friends and family will soon stop calling me. Then I'll be able to get some fucking work done.
Chris Conroy, author of X, writes after breakfast and before lunch.