So that's how it feels... an effective but fleeting repose from the distractions of the real world. It is not as effective an anesthesia as I would have hoped, since I don't even have any memory of what transpired during half of the night (or should I say morning) that I was intoxicated. It was quite an experience, though - somewhat akin to sleep walking but more profound. Balance is gone, inhibitions thrown out the window, the honesty that results is refreshing - but costly. Fortunately, I have friends who helped me through the experience and never thought less of me for what I did. These friends also acted as my informants of my own actions. According to them, it seems I was harmless during that episode - nothing but being a more notorious chatterbox (if that was even possible in my case). Well, I guess it beats chasing someone round and round asking for a kiss or walking on all fours in an attempt to sneak into a room. It was fun, but the hangover is hell, as I write this it feels like someone is pushing a blunt blade to the back of my skull - trying vainly to split it open, and It's already 5pm here, more than 12 hours since I got drunk. Not only that, the mere memory of the taste of gin makes me want to throw up - that's why next time, gin is out of the question when it comes to hard drinks, I'll just drink something else. As for the reason for my fateful decision? That's for me and my closest friends to know and for no one else to find out.