Drunk Thoughts Are Sober Novels & Stories

Edric I knew I was drunk. It wasn’t the kind where I became loose and couldn’t carry my limbs around by my own will. No. This was the light kind of drunk…the one where I couldn’t carry my thoughts. The one where ideas became so enlightening, they couldn’t stay in just my head alone. They had to live with others.

By questions I didn't have answers to and doubts that wouldn't stop growing no matter how much I tried to push them down. Had I destroyed something real, something precious, because I was too fucking stupid to see what was right in front of me? I poured another drink, my hands shaking slightly. The alcohol wasn't helping. It should have been dulling the edges, making everything fuzzy and easier to ignore. But instead, it just made the thoughts louder, more insistent. I stayed in that private room for hours, drinking and thinking and drinking some more until the bottle was mostly empty and the world had taken on a hazy, unsteady quality.

What is the fastest way to get your mind off things? “I need a drink” Halfway through his second glass of whiskey, Dr. Brown's words came floating back in his mind. “Running is easier but it eventually wears you out” He let the glass fall to the table with a loud thud. “I am already worn out as it is.” He muttered under his breath. He couldn't remember the last time he ran to alcohol to fix his head. Going back to this bad habit would definitely have terrible consequences. “I need to keep running for a little longer but this is not working”

Clyde says while pointing. I nod. "Thanks." I slowly stand from my seat so I won't lose my balance and I just wish I won't bump to people along the way to the bathroom. I just noticed that when I'm drunk, trips to the bathroom makes me think that it's already taking too long compares to being completely sober. I feel myself walking wobbly and even though I try to walk straight, I can't. As I went inside the bathroom, I stared myself at the mirror. I pitied looking at my own reflection, I looked so broken.

"...people like me." 'People like me? He thought, what was that supposed to mean?' Is the saying true that the words of a drunk man words are his sober thoughts? If he isn't speaking gibberish that is. He stared at her lips about to do something stupid, something she would probably regret when she was sober. "I hope you won't remember this when you wake." Then he kissed her. ___

He needed anything to drown out the thoughts. *What if she’s laughing with him right now? What if he’s telling her things that make her forget you?* He sat on the couch, the silence deafening and growing by the second. His mind was filled with insecure thoughts, but he knew even trying to drink would just make it all worse.

I knew that he resented me for letting Wendy discover what happened between us that night. If Wendy had remained clueless about us, she would never have left. At that point, I broke off from my thoughts. I brought Connor the antidote to the drug and some cold water. After helping him with the pill, I put a cold compress on him. After all, in the previous timeline, he had sacrificed himself to save me. I had to pay him back for that. “Where’s Wendy?” The antidote and cold water had helped him regain some of his senses.

“Are you sure? Are you not dizzy?” “Slight,” I replied. I do feel dizzy and that's probably why my brain's not functioning well and inappropriate things are bugging my mind, which is really not doing good to my sanity. I think I'm going crazy. I should remind myself not to drink alcohol, especially when Zandrey’s around. “You should sleep,” he said. The ride going home isn't that long and the traffic wasn't bad because it's already late. “I’m not sleepy.” I tried to take a deep breath again and tried to shift my mind to something else.

“Damn it, that old pervert spiked my drink” I cursed under my breath, further muttering incoherent obscenities. The hallway was dimly lit, as I staggered across, movement unsteady, my mind dazed, fogged with effects of the liquor and drug coursing through my veins, body burning with unfathomable feelings that I could not decipher, feelings for sudden need, desire to get laid, drown by the touch of man. what with the sudden crave for the heat of man, something in my sane mind I wouldn’t acknowledge, but as the moment my instructive thought took precedence.

Mia says , I rub my chin in contemplating , right now I couldn't think of anything wrong with that idea but I couldn't help a little tiny part of me that feels that whatever we are planning on doing is wrong. "Well, I think it's great, but I think we should ask our sober selves later on, "I say. I begin to for a piece of paper. We realized one day that we come up with dumb ideas when we are drunk so it has been a tradition to have a paper and pen on hand when we knew we were getting drunk. "ok found it , wrote it ,anything else?" I ask after I find a piece of paper and a pen and writing down 'us ruining his life 'on the note .