soul doubt

I must have done something right, for the three of them are still in contact. One acts as if she's in love with me and the other two cling as if I am something they dare not let go of. All the while, I attend class and pay more attention to the young french lady at the front of the room than I do to what is being taught. This after a nihilistic weekend of extreme alcohol abuse resulting in me venturing out on my bicycle, drunk beyond safety, and walking into the Apple store to buy this fucking Mac upon which I write right now. I spent the night writhing in turmoil but I appear to have made it through to the other side and now I must simply exist in the knowledge that I sold my soul to the devil for what reason I know not. 

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