Clink, Clink

I want to get drunk.

Seriously ripped.

Not tipsy or even a little snockered; I want to get black out, lose consciousness, can't think straight or even at all, drunk.

I want to drink so much that the voice in my head has slurred speech, or can't talk at all.

I want to wipe my short term memory clean, drown it all in alcohol. 

I want to render my thought process nil.

Oh, oblivion.

Maybe if I drink enough, I won't feel this lonely ache or hear the soft whisper of failure winding through my thoughts.

I kmow drinking isn't the answer.  It's not even a question.  I can't.  Won't.  But I want to.