horrible human hangover anxiety.

I remembered I am a horrible human last night. Despite the two bows in my hair and perfectly placed blush to look even younger, more innocent. I am a horrible human. I used to think I didn’t even count as a human, you know? That anything bad or wrong in my life was deserved, and anything sweet, soft, and forgiving wasn’t mine to hold onto. I don’t feel that way anymore. I am a human. A horrible human. Cotton mouth, vodka breath, horrible human, who talks too much and says little of importance. I think I pissed off someone in the pub last night. [Redacted] is a religious one, though, so I hope they’ll take my confession into the palms of their hands and practice forgiveness. So I’ll confess. I’m a horrible human. I’ve no empathy for the politician who got shot earlier this week. I am a horrible human. I’ve questioned God more times than I’ve questioned anyone ever. I’m a horrible human. I giggled, gossiped, and mocked a friend of a friend, foe of a foe, who just gets under my skin for no real reason. They say she’s actually a good person. I’m a horrible human. I made someone bleed last night. I’m a horrible human. It’s not the first time I’ve made someone bleed. Probably won’t be the last either. I’m a horrible human. I can’t even finish writing this because my stomach is turning with regret and vodka. I’m a horrib—