Drunk Thoughts Are Sober Feelings Novels & Stories

I drained yet another glass, the sharp burn of the vodka sliding down my throat. It scorched a path through my chest, but the fire was welcome—almost comforting. It grounded me, gave me something tangible to focus on amidst the storm raging inside. The burn dulled the edges of the dread coiling in my gut, made the impending doom feel a little less heavy, a little more manageable. Strange how pain could be soothing when it was familiar.

I wanted a blunt instrument to knock my brain offline. I sat in a dark corner booth and drank. One glass. Two glasses. Three. I kept drinking and drinking, tilting the cheap burning alcohol back until the sharp, irritating edges of my thoughts began to blur. I drank until I finally felt numb, until the calculation in my brain slowed down to a dull, manageable static. By the time I stumbled back out to the Jeep, the sky had completely changed. It was late afternoon, turning into evening—the actual time when normal people started drinking, not when they finished.

Sienna I lay flat on my back across the sofa, one arm draped over my forehead to block out the sharp glare of the overhead recessed lighting, while the other hand loosely dangled off the edge of the cushions. The smooth, cool glass of a heavy crystal tumbler was pressed against my palm, threatening to slip from my fingers every time my mind drifted. I was drunk. Drunk as fuck, honestly. The heavy, burning heat of whatever expensive amber liquid I had poured from the bar was currently sloshing around in my empty stomach, turning my thoughts into a thick, slow-moving fog.

The atmosphere was infectious, and I couldn't help but let loose and embrace the party vibe. As the night progressed and the drinks continued to flow freely, the boundary between sobriety and inebriation blurred. The carefree spirit of the party, coupled with the alcohol's effects, left me in a state of blissful euphoria. I was in the midst of an unforgettable celebration, and the world around me seemed to spin in a dizzying, joyful dance.

“No — I do. My heart — does, my — brain doesn't. But I love — you — and I don't know — how. You are — swallowing me whole — without even trying. I'm — absolved with thoughts of you, — my head, it — hurts badly because — I keep thinking — so much about you, it's — driving me crazy.” I sat there and just stared at her. I wanted to kiss those words off her lips, but I'm sure it would only complicate things, since she shouldn't be thinking, she shouldn't get this stressed. It was obvious she was having a hard time as I caressed the beaded sweats off her forehead, and she looked up at me, a sigh escaping her lips. “I — was told not — to think for a reason. And — now I know why, because — because

We were exposed. But as they drew nearer, their heavy footsteps uneven, their laughter slurred and loud, a wave of relief washed over me. Drunk. They were drunk. Their minds, usually a jumble of coherent thoughts, were now thick and muddled with the haze of alcohol. No threat, not really. Not like the clear, calculating minds of the other outlanders I’d sensed. A stroke of sheer luck, an unexpected gift from the Moon Goddess herself.

Anna gives her a confused look. “That’s the sip of someone who wants to get drunk and not think about something,” Sophia says. “You missed your vocation, you should have been a bloody psychiatrist,” Anna tells her. “No, I’m just observant. I’ve been watching you drink the past week. And I noticed that there are times when you seem to drift away into your thoughts then when you snap back and there’s alcohol nearby you drink with the intact getting drunk, like whatever you were thinking about made you feel some sort of way and you need to feel good again,”

“Will be with you.” Drunk me, didn't hate or despise Daniel it wanted to be with him perhaps càuse I was freed of my body at that time, two perfect words to explain the State of my mind at that moment was drunk and extremely Stupid …I didn't try to stand as it felt like if I did I am might fall I felt drained and grumpy with the images of the day racing at the back of my mind and blurry. I could still feel that loud thud at the back of my head and rubbed my eyes to get that ache out, much a needed to get to my room it was near impossible

I can’t. The thought ѕіnkѕ in, and with іt, I feel myself slip іntо a fucked uр, dерrеѕѕеd ѕtаtе оf mіnd. Am I ever gоіng to bе frее of thіѕ disease? Thіѕ anger? It’ѕ уеаrѕ down thе rоаd and mу drіnkіng іѕ ѕtіll fоllоwіng mе.

He was tied from his head to toe. What happened to him is just like yesterday. A dreamlike you dazed off and dreamed something yet it felt so real? It is like a horror/ horny dream when at your peak. Your story seems so wild with some busty zombie but it blurred suddenly! Try drinking too much and go wild. You can't remember all of the things you made by yourself. Your body is conscious but your mind is not and this case our Luis Park is encountering now! In his delusion... "But why do I feel bouncing? Is this the feeling of waking up from drinking too much? But what is this feeling!"