This is a piece I wrote one day while feeling a little down. Partially based on personal experiences in my life, and the lives of friends and things I have witnessed in college. It is not a happy piece by any means but if nothing else at least some people may see that everyone has their problems. Just don't expect humor or any uplifting stuff in this post. The next will be more cheerful, I promise :D
A bottle clinks,
The sound is lost to the room.
The room is filled with around 40 students,
The professor rambles on.
No one has blinked an eye at the clinking of glass on the drab brick walls of the room.
The only person who notices is me.
It's a bottle of therapy, a way to cope,
Comes complete with the slogan "damn right your father drank it"
It's 9:30 am but the bottles half empty.
The can of Starbuck's Doubleshot sits on the desk, innocent looking.
A simple wake up drink to the passing eye, though the class does not see the evil that resides within.
The mixture, half whiskey half overly processed Starbucks which claims to be "coffee".
The student sits there sipping his concoction, blends into the so called academic atmosphere.
The rest of the class is only pretending to pay attention anyway he thinks to himself.
He continues to sip.
The alcohol seeps into his bloodstream, slowly taking hold.
After all it is his second class this morning and the first class was no different.
He takes another swig
The professor continues to babble on, nothing more than background noise to the boy.
The class is full of noise of pen on paper. The other students adamantly writing as fast as they can, fearing their next exam.
Not the kid in the back corner.
He has his "coffee" and a crossword.
The puzzle, half done, but progress is slowing now.
The words are slowly blending together, the answers no longer coming as easily to him.
Thank the drink of our fathers for that!
It is taking hold of him, providing release.
He is lost to the drink, but safe from his mind now.
He no longer is worried about the troubles of his home life, the immanent divorce of his parents, the loss of the love of his life.
SHIT, he takes another swig as life gets real again.
The mellowed out mixture no longer producing the full effect he seeks.
The bathroom is only a few steps away.
Should he use it as an escape to go to the bottle, no more mixing of booze with an intermedium!
No, for him it will be pure whiskey to the bloodstream.
He needs to speed up the release, the escape still no one has thought about the clinking of the glass bottle!
One more swig, trip to the bathroom deemed too risky.
He has to talk to the professor after class and cannot risk smelling of fermented drink.
No, instead he will simply drink faster.
His drink dwindles but the ethanol level rises in his body.
He still has two classes to go; the most pressing issue on his mind now is how long will his bottle last?
He regrets his life, the alcohol turns on him.
He no longer escapes but is instead thrust deep into his mind
Lost to his thoughts, lost to the problems of a 21 year old experiencing life.
The life experience of being kicked in the balls.
Another swig.
He thinks of his home life.
He had a great childhood.
His family well off, his parents loving.
He spent his summers on the lake or on one of their family vacations, his parents happy!
But that is no more.............
No, his mother has changed since he moved,
His father now subject to his mothers hidden wrath.
He wonders is it his fault? Was he the peace keeper?
Did he allow the now apparent facade of happiness to go on for 21 years?
It's no matter now; the father has been forced out.
The mother goes on with life, pretends nothing is wrong but the boy is wise!
He knows the truth, the chaos that exists a mere six hours away.
His dad forced to a bed and breakfast but the boy is left in the dark, neither parent willing to discuss this with him but he knows.
No, he leaves these thoughts with another drink, the can almost empty now.
He hoped to escape but once again fails, his thoughts now onto the love of his life.
They have lived together for the past two years.
The years filled with both happiness and regret.
He loves her though, mistakenly so!
She knows, for he has praised and worshipped her for those two years,
She returned those feelings.............
for a year.
No more, she has found a new lover, thrown the boy to the curb.
He talks to her only once a week now, her yelling at him for mistakes he has not made.
He loves her still, picks up the remnants of her sexual relationship with the new guy.
A guy he loathes, who has left her once already.
This sot of a student taking care of her after, but he loves her so it is ok!
But now she has one back. The worthless man who now has called her back like a snake charmer calling her back to him, making her writhe and slither back to him.
Months have passed since the boy first comforted her after the break up with the snake charmer but he does not care.
Meanwhile she continues to be fascinated by a guy who at one time did not want her.
The boy is left thinking about this.
Another sip, the can now precariously on the verge of being empty.
His thoughts go on; he goes back to the most recent message from his love.
She no longer wishes to speak to him, he has done nothing but love and now he is thrown to the curb.
His love, the snake, now lost to the charmer and his flute.
But the boy is tone-deaf.
Lost to a way to call her back.
No he is finished, has now become a mouse to be fed to his former love!
She is hungry!
His love, a food source of the charmer has trained the snake to think.
She strikes, the poison coursing through the boys veins.
It will not provide death though,
No instead he watches on, paralyzed from the strike.
He watches as the charmer now calls her back to him.
Her lies there, praying for death but it does not come.
No he is lost in his mind!
Stuck with the metaphors.
He once again becomes conscious of the background noise.
An hour has passed yet he remembers none of it.
No, the sound of scribbling of notes, the babbling of the professor has been lost to him.
He was stuck in his mind.
He finishes his drink.
Class is lost for the day, why try to pay attention now?
Instead he raises his empty can, longing for more relief.
No worries though, he has a break in ten minutes!
He shall refill his can, hopefully to finish the cycle.
Hopefully it will provide the escape he seeks.
The end of thought, the peace of the end.
However the end he does not believe in, but change he does!
So he goes for it.
Refilling his poison, seeking the end.
It will come, the loves toxin no longer paralyzing.
No, he takes his final sips into darkness, the end has arrived.
All of this stemming from a noise only he heard.
For the boy is the writer, the holder of the bottle, the man seeking the end.
A noise will no longer go is passing for even a whisper holds a deeper meaning.
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alcohol. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
The truth about being happy
I am currently sitting in my house on the lake, full fridge and pantry (granted all food I hate due to other people in this house still being confused on what qualifies as good food), wireless internet, and of course all the basics like running water. Why would I mention this besides trying to brag about my living situation? Well I assure you that’s not the point of this blog.
I spent the previous four days living in, well, I guess to put it in perspective; I have seen hotels with $5 hourly rates that were nicer. The carpets, spotted from years of spilled drinks, food, and other fluids that I am sure I would rather not know, gave off hints of odor from each of these forgotten spots now held captive by the fibers. The kitchen was full of dishes that appeared to have gone even longer without being washed than the carpet. In fact, while trying to pour a drink I was told to “just grab whichever one appears to have less mold”.
In the defense of the tenants, one of whom happens to be a very close friend of mine, they were in the process of moving across the street. Therefore they did not spend much time here and had not felt the need to go out of their way to clean an apartment they would soon be leaving.
Anyway the point of this article focuses more on some of the other aspects of this slowly dilapidating apartment, not the filth that had claimed it as the newest landlord. This apartment did have the luxury of electricity and running water. Yes I do mean luxury because that’s all it had. There was no phone line and therefore no internet, and while yes running water the gas had long been off resulting in a lack of water that did not border on 40 degrees. This made showering an experience that only an Eskimo could identify with. There of course was no TV either as I assume the gas bill would be slightly higher up on the list than cable. The only edible food I managed to find was a jar of olives in the fridge but those were reserved for martinis apparently and thus off limits.
The cause of such a sever lack of funds; Well the one works as an unpaid intern at The Buffalo News over 20 hours a week and then scrapes together what shifts she can as a waitress for Jack Astors. She is rolling in the dough. The other is the definition of a starving artist. In between his plays and paintings he scrounges up a few shifts as a waiter as well.
It was this situation that I decided to drive six hours and spend four days in rather than sitting in my comfortable, clean, amenity filled home. It’s amazing what one will do to spend time with another. I have always been one of those people that was in the mindset that if one can make money they should and those that put forth no effort and live in poverty were crazy, vaive and to be honest it annoyed me. Little did I know that my view was about to not simply be proven wrong, but lead to one of the biggest shocks of my life about how off I could be on something I felt so adament about.
I started off the trip by meeting Lena at Jack Astors as she was working one of her multitude of night shifts. I sat around, ordered some food and drinks and relaxed while she finished up. We then went back to her place, got around and spent a night walking around the town. 4 hours later we stumbled back to pass out at 3 a.m. in no condition to care about the condition of the home.
This is similar to how we would go about spending the next four days. We walked around town, went to a free concert held every Thursday in what is called the “Square”, spent nights playing cards, twister and catchphrase. Before I realized I was even there I had to leave and found myself thinking of anything I could do to delay parting ways. I did not once notice the horrors that existed in that apartment in the forms of mold and lack of basic utilities.
It was then that I truly realized. There is something to be said for scraping by on the seat of your pants. Every day was an adventure filled with finding random ways to spend time or get food or even take a shower. It was a four days of just enjoying being with people rather than worrying about everything else. The truth is that the majority of what we have we don’t need. Cliché I know, but I don’t simply mean we don’t need them. I mean lacking more can lead to experiencing everything else in new ways. Before this trip I had not gone more than a day or two without the internet and it wasn’t until I got home after nearly five days that it even crossed my mind. I was so caught up in spending time with these people and simply enjoying being alive that the rest of the world, even the room around me was a blur, but the people in front of me, the times we spent, I saw more clearly than ever before and it was a truly amazing experience. I can now say that the truth about living in poverty, it can be one of the greatest experiences of your life.
People will say “you were there for four days, you don’t know what it’s like to be poor” and that’s ok. These people I stayed with were by far literally the poorest people I have known. They had simply enough money to afford rent split between two people in a ramshackle apartment and if given the opportunity I would move in with them tomorrow. It’s this knowledge that makes me know I am justified in saying that, beyond being so poor that you may actually die, having no money can actually be an exhilarating and fun experience.
I spent the previous four days living in, well, I guess to put it in perspective; I have seen hotels with $5 hourly rates that were nicer. The carpets, spotted from years of spilled drinks, food, and other fluids that I am sure I would rather not know, gave off hints of odor from each of these forgotten spots now held captive by the fibers. The kitchen was full of dishes that appeared to have gone even longer without being washed than the carpet. In fact, while trying to pour a drink I was told to “just grab whichever one appears to have less mold”.
In the defense of the tenants, one of whom happens to be a very close friend of mine, they were in the process of moving across the street. Therefore they did not spend much time here and had not felt the need to go out of their way to clean an apartment they would soon be leaving.
Anyway the point of this article focuses more on some of the other aspects of this slowly dilapidating apartment, not the filth that had claimed it as the newest landlord. This apartment did have the luxury of electricity and running water. Yes I do mean luxury because that’s all it had. There was no phone line and therefore no internet, and while yes running water the gas had long been off resulting in a lack of water that did not border on 40 degrees. This made showering an experience that only an Eskimo could identify with. There of course was no TV either as I assume the gas bill would be slightly higher up on the list than cable. The only edible food I managed to find was a jar of olives in the fridge but those were reserved for martinis apparently and thus off limits.
The cause of such a sever lack of funds; Well the one works as an unpaid intern at The Buffalo News over 20 hours a week and then scrapes together what shifts she can as a waitress for Jack Astors. She is rolling in the dough. The other is the definition of a starving artist. In between his plays and paintings he scrounges up a few shifts as a waiter as well.
It was this situation that I decided to drive six hours and spend four days in rather than sitting in my comfortable, clean, amenity filled home. It’s amazing what one will do to spend time with another. I have always been one of those people that was in the mindset that if one can make money they should and those that put forth no effort and live in poverty were crazy, vaive and to be honest it annoyed me. Little did I know that my view was about to not simply be proven wrong, but lead to one of the biggest shocks of my life about how off I could be on something I felt so adament about.
I started off the trip by meeting Lena at Jack Astors as she was working one of her multitude of night shifts. I sat around, ordered some food and drinks and relaxed while she finished up. We then went back to her place, got around and spent a night walking around the town. 4 hours later we stumbled back to pass out at 3 a.m. in no condition to care about the condition of the home.
This is similar to how we would go about spending the next four days. We walked around town, went to a free concert held every Thursday in what is called the “Square”, spent nights playing cards, twister and catchphrase. Before I realized I was even there I had to leave and found myself thinking of anything I could do to delay parting ways. I did not once notice the horrors that existed in that apartment in the forms of mold and lack of basic utilities.
It was then that I truly realized. There is something to be said for scraping by on the seat of your pants. Every day was an adventure filled with finding random ways to spend time or get food or even take a shower. It was a four days of just enjoying being with people rather than worrying about everything else. The truth is that the majority of what we have we don’t need. Cliché I know, but I don’t simply mean we don’t need them. I mean lacking more can lead to experiencing everything else in new ways. Before this trip I had not gone more than a day or two without the internet and it wasn’t until I got home after nearly five days that it even crossed my mind. I was so caught up in spending time with these people and simply enjoying being alive that the rest of the world, even the room around me was a blur, but the people in front of me, the times we spent, I saw more clearly than ever before and it was a truly amazing experience. I can now say that the truth about living in poverty, it can be one of the greatest experiences of your life.
People will say “you were there for four days, you don’t know what it’s like to be poor” and that’s ok. These people I stayed with were by far literally the poorest people I have known. They had simply enough money to afford rent split between two people in a ramshackle apartment and if given the opportunity I would move in with them tomorrow. It’s this knowledge that makes me know I am justified in saying that, beyond being so poor that you may actually die, having no money can actually be an exhilarating and fun experience.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Introduction
Every blog needs an introduction in my opinion. How else can readers know what to expect or where the blog is coming from right? So here it goes.
This is essentially going to be a blog for me to post previous writings and future thoughts, appifanies and debauchery. As the title would lead you to assume it will cover life, love, alcohol and so much more. After all who the hell titles a blog something that has nothing to do with its content. I'm no writer by any means but it seems like that would make sense to me.
Expect drunken entries, to laugh, to be insulted, attempts at wit, and random cameos from Paris Hilton (ok, maybe not as I neither have a connection nor would I want or seek one, it's Paris Hilton for God's sake). A few things to keep in mind as you explore through the plethera of mind blowing theories, thoughts and musings you will come across:
1. as previously stated (and I hope you've kept up with me to this point at least) some of these were written previously. I now have graduated college and some of the early posts will be from my college years. You should be able to develop a timeline from the content.
2. I have no qualms about insulting people. Most people are too sensitive these days. If I ran over a cat and found some comic relief in it you damn well know I'm going to post it. Thick skinned people suck.
3. I'm not a great writer, or a particularly good one for that matter. I don't mean I have bad content. I'd hope not or I'd have no business writing this. I mean more along the lines of punctuation and grammar. As some of you will probably have noticed 10 missed commas already. Despite being 22 and growing up with computers I still can't type without looking at the keyboard and I'm far too impatient to re-read everything I type. Correct me if you want but I'll probably just ignore you anyway.
4. My final point is this. This is my first entry, an introduction and it sucks. I know it, you know it, your grandmother knows it (see that's not even somewhat funny). Don't judge me on for it. The rest get better I promise. If not, I lied. but You won't know without reading it anyway so I still win.
So with that in mind here it is. If you ever have any suggestions, requests for a topic or anything let me know. I'm always running out of things to write about so input's always appreciated.
This is essentially going to be a blog for me to post previous writings and future thoughts, appifanies and debauchery. As the title would lead you to assume it will cover life, love, alcohol and so much more. After all who the hell titles a blog something that has nothing to do with its content. I'm no writer by any means but it seems like that would make sense to me.
Expect drunken entries, to laugh, to be insulted, attempts at wit, and random cameos from Paris Hilton (ok, maybe not as I neither have a connection nor would I want or seek one, it's Paris Hilton for God's sake). A few things to keep in mind as you explore through the plethera of mind blowing theories, thoughts and musings you will come across:
1. as previously stated (and I hope you've kept up with me to this point at least) some of these were written previously. I now have graduated college and some of the early posts will be from my college years. You should be able to develop a timeline from the content.
2. I have no qualms about insulting people. Most people are too sensitive these days. If I ran over a cat and found some comic relief in it you damn well know I'm going to post it. Thick skinned people suck.
3. I'm not a great writer, or a particularly good one for that matter. I don't mean I have bad content. I'd hope not or I'd have no business writing this. I mean more along the lines of punctuation and grammar. As some of you will probably have noticed 10 missed commas already. Despite being 22 and growing up with computers I still can't type without looking at the keyboard and I'm far too impatient to re-read everything I type. Correct me if you want but I'll probably just ignore you anyway.
4. My final point is this. This is my first entry, an introduction and it sucks. I know it, you know it, your grandmother knows it (see that's not even somewhat funny). Don't judge me on for it. The rest get better I promise. If not, I lied. but You won't know without reading it anyway so I still win.
So with that in mind here it is. If you ever have any suggestions, requests for a topic or anything let me know. I'm always running out of things to write about so input's always appreciated.
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