Live Blogging NYE - Inky Style
I just wanna say, before I get tipsy and sound less genuine:
Every one of my followers mean something to me. It means someone out there that likes me, even a little bit. And this year, that has mattered more than anything… Meaning something to someone. A bad breakup followed by an awkward rebound. Spiraling anxiety and depression. Family growing apart and falling apart. It’s been the climax to a rough few years, and yet, here are a handful of people online that aren’t obligated to like me, and they do anyways. So thank you for that. It matters, so so much.
Thank you for liking me. Thank you for messaging me. Thank you for the fanmail and asks and reblogs. Thank you for the RL texts and phone calls, those few of you that have that access. Thank you for the tinychats and skypes. Thank you. You’ve helped keep me sane. Every one of you is appreciated, by me.
Rachel is flirting with boys.
Rachel’s always flirting with boys. Boys seem to like Rachel. Which is weird, because in high school everybody thought she was a freak. ANYWAY. So while Rachel’s flirting with boys, I’m just standing here because I have an almost long-distance-very-attractive-boyfriend (it’s complicated, you have no fashion sense, shut up). I do, however, appreciate the free drinks.
Something thats been on my mind..
I regret a lot of things. I mean A LOT of things. And I wish I didn’t react to certain things the way I did. More than that, I wish my parents would have guided me more. Granted, I wasn’t the easiest son to raise, and not the most respectful either. That was Ryder. But, for example, when I started drinking I came home one night drunk off my arse (excuse my irish for a secound). I mean… really drunk. I was 14 maybe 15. Never been so drunk in my life. I puked like 8 times and I was still drunk. Instead of being good parents and slapping me around a bit or grounding me for this, my parents laughed it off, made me poridge and sent me to bed. The next morning instead of yelling or making some scene, they made a few jokes about whatever I had said and sent me off to school. At the time I was pretty proud of my self for not getting in trouble. Thinking back I want to kick my parents in the teeth for not doing something. Because in a way it encouraged me to drink more, and more. And I did. Plentyful times. INFACT. The only reason I stopped was because my brother kicked the shit out of me one night. But of course… He left me. So as a fuck you, I started drinking again.
and i wonder why I always blame my drinking on someone else. but it seems weird, and not logical to blame it on myself.
Oh dear fucking CCHRIST.
mY DASH HAS UPDATED AND NOT GOOD.
(I mean, I certainly don’t hate it, and I’m sure I’ll like it once I’ve adjusted. It’s just that this has been the same for my who 2.5+ years on Tumblr and I’m just very uncomfrotable/stressed by thiis?)
Oh, and I’m also DRINKING TONIGHT.
wHOOP WHOOPS.
Let the GAMES BEGIN
