The biggest problem with it all is choice, isn't it?

Where does one go when one faces the actual brick wall of drunken realisation? Where do you head when you dually realise that the people that are perpetuating your actions and the people who are holding you back are both fundamentally trying to kill you? Especially when you are trying to kill - albeit slowly - yourself ? What if the escapism of alcoholism is clearly the best resort? What if none of the shit that you find yourself tied to is actually representative of your true character? What if you feel that the roast Sunday you are about to host is simply a shallow way of making yourself feel worthwhile? What if you are so tired and drunk that you don't want to go to sleep for fear of losing yourself again? What if you are so scared of change that you undermine it with incessant triviality? What if you are smarter than you ever let on to others? What if you are too young to feel old, yet too old to feel young? What if you keep insisting on implementing magenta text on tenuously related images to head your posts? What if - however much you hate your own pitiful and unskilled grasp of the English language - you love the way you talk about things? What if you undermined this entire list by holding it in higher esteem than it was initially written under?