angriness

I went out last night. I just came home. It's almost five. I am tired, tired of smoking too, and still unhappy, though I had a wonderful night, that I didn't have the hash I was given, the night before. Two lots of it, much enjoyed, lost! Put in a matchbox, and then, gone. Other was in a pocket. Holy mackerel. Well, good night. But I don't feel it. Where am I? Gone...gone to a world called, sleep. Been polite for a while, enthusiastic, giving. Being happy. But it's not important to me. To me, what counts is being very into something, and feeling all is well. And very much, it's clear to me, all was not quite well, not at the level I had anticipated, when I went out for the evening. It was okay. In some ways, wonderful. But I wanted the control, to pull out my hash, have it with me - when we wanted a joint, in town, especially. And it was gone. I'm not supposed to have more than one more joint before I go, I read. It's not visceral. I don't feel that. I know it's true, but really, I have drunk so very much cider and beer, I'm not really in touch. I'm tired, I'm not so happy. My real happiness is in my thoughts, that's my reality. Unless I'm dancing, or singing, with friends. Just talking, well, I can handle it, getting to know people. Better stay friends, though. Or I'll hurt. And I opened to people. I like these people. Dear friend has an admirer. Staying in same house with her as she is staying in, and, I like her friend whose house it is. Very wonderful, if only, I could just enjoy the vibe of friendship. But I'm tired. I want to go to sleep. And I'm lonely. Does that make sense?

I hurt, but not much. Mostly from smoking - raw throat. Home, cheese with bread, cleaned kitchen. Now, bed. Maybe read. But it's late. Almost dawn. I really wish I could say, I like being with people. I do, but more and more, I like this feeling of alone - and happy.