Much to my regret

Smelling my dried blood filled shoe , how regrettable that was . It smells like a butchers , breathing in the vulgar smell in my delicate (hungover state) what a mistake to make. The past week seems to have been a juxta postion of highs and lows in the emotional sense then  the contrasts of silence then an explosion of noise. The first few days of uni  on my course where spent in near silence leaving me questioning if im retracting into my wall flower state of many years ago. The evening's seen to have been spent having pre drinking fuled debates about ( social hierarchy , cultural background , gender roles, religion )  All mainly involving me say on a chair surrounded by people genuinely intrested in what im saying  all encapsulated by the words pouring out my mouth like thick continuous  vomit . how adult how fucking adult of me. . I