An Open Letter to My Brain Gone Awry

I am soooooo sorry for drinking five vodka tonics last night. I understand you're really hurting today...but could you just keep down the hammering? And what the fuck was that dream about this morning? A nature channel from space observing humans? I dont know where you get that shit, but i dont like you manifesting these schizophrenic tendencies everytime i have a few drinks.

What's that? I'm talking to myself? What do you mean you're making me write this crap? Way to take the credit for everything. I'm crazy? No, buddy, you're the fucking looney. You heard me. I didn't mind when you made me trip over myself last night...and i was willing to overlook that you made me spill red-bull and vodka all over a good friend (that was actually pretty funny), but i'll be damned if i let you insult me...in writing...to myself. I think we should cool it a bit...maybe spend some time apart.

That's fine with you? You're just not that into me? I can't believe you just said that...i think we're done here.