Lost Between Jesus and Suicide

The way people write and how they are in real life are completely different.
Written words don't convey inflection or tone, therefor bypassing some pretty vital aspects of this whole communication thing. Fuck. I've been uninspired for the longest time with my writing. And they say what you should do when you're uninspired is to do something dangerous. Do something that makes you scared, that's outside your comfort zone. All I've been wanting to do lately is drink. And drink. And sleep. I'm just ignoring this life of mine and completely frittering away hours and hours of time that could better be used for learning, for creation, for self-revelation. It doesn't usually bother me, because I feel like my brain is only being used half-assed anyway. I don't do a lot of critical thinking, I suppose. The most I need to think is to wonder if cold cream will clog my pores, or if using baby lotion makes me smell too much like a baby. Whether I should get Smirnoff Passionfruit or Watermelon.
I realize I sound stupid. I probably am.
I need to find something dangerous to do. Something to kick-start me, get me off my ass and start living. Having things to talk about, having adventures to write about. I don't even know where to start.
This annoys me.
I need a change.