Bar person, give me whatever cures an abyss of unending hollowness.
Some would call my week a week of indulgence, a trip into comfort via gluttony, a trip into oblivion with the help of the old crutch. Today I suffer the katzenjammer of withdrawal, head and heart pounding from too much of a bad thing, my liver fighting the good fight against the poison of overindulgence.
Still, the urge is there. My brain do not want to cope with the loss of a friend, with yet another death in the proverbial family of friends and acquaintances. My insides are just hollow, there's an emptiness that just wont go away and so I drink, and so I eat, and so I pass time without accomplishing anything.
This too will pass.