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Message Subject The Witches thread
Poster Handle cara delevingne
Post Content
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But I am not going out ce soir because then I won’t spend the beginning of the week in a state of miserable anxiety. No more dysfunctional relationships. My friend she is frequently mocked by my friends for the fact that when she goes out drinking she ends up vomiting in a hedge, blacking out or having a fight in a kebab shop.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 83839056


She is a lightweight who goes from sober to blackout drunk with none of the fun bits in between. And loses her phone.
 Quoting: cara delevingne 83839056


So I enjoy alcohol responsibly. Get drunk as often as you like. A swig in the morning can really smooth the edge off the day. But never, ever, drink irresponsibly. She was unaware she was an alcoholic until she did a questionaire.
 Quoting: cara delevingne 83839056


One question was, ‘Do you need a drink in the morning just to get through the day?’ I’d previously assumed everyone has a couple of vodkas first thing while making breakfast, but she was having a full bottle of wine before midi.
 Quoting: Kate Bush 83839056


Your musings remind me of one of my favorite short stories:


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M. Degas Teaches Art & Science At Durfee Intermediate School--Detroit, 1942

He made a line on the blackboard, one bold stroke from right to left diagonally downward and stood back to ask, looking as always at no one in particular, "What have I done?"

From the back of the room Freddie shouted, "You've broken a piece of chalk." M. Degas did not smile.

"What have I done?" he repeated.

The most intellectual students looked down to study their desks except for Gertrude Bimmler, who raised her hand before she spoke. "M. Degas, you have created the hypotenuse of an isosceles triangle." Degas mused. Everyone knew that Gertrude could not be incorrect.

"It is possible," Louis Warshowsky added precisely, "that you have begun to represent the roof of a barn."

I remember that it was exactly twenty minutes past eleven, and I thought at worst this would go on another forty minutes.

It was early April, the snow had all but melted on the playgrounds, the elms and maples bordering the cracked walks shivered in the new winds, and I believed that before I knew it I'd be swaggering to the candy store for a Milky Way.

M. Degas pursed his lips, and the room stilled until the long hand of the clock moved to twenty one as though in complicity with Gertrude, who added confidently, "You've begun to separate the dark from the dark."

I looked back for help, but now the trees bucked and quaked, and I knew this could go on forever.


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 Quoting: Zovalex


That story is very Kafkaesque.
 
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