An Alcoholic's Épopée ii
The liquid is an enemy, a friend, an headache, a pain, a growing trauma? No. The liquid isn't, it is just a liquid, every other form it takes lies on me. This is not a cry for help, it is nothing.
The Alcohol is not so bad, like I said, it's just liquid. Sadly, a liquid that is mostly abused, a liquid I abuse as soon as I get the chance.
More than often, I've been asked Why, what does it do, apart from quicken your steps to death?. I'll tell you, it makes me forget, it makes me happier "happiest when drunk", it makes me bold and sassy, it brings out the real me.
When I'm drunk, I kiss strangers, I dance with them, I say goodbye with a hug to an old friend. When I'm drunk, I'm free from the bondage I tied myself in. When I'm drunk, my anxiety ceases to exist.
"Isn't that a sad and bad way to live?"
It is, and fortunately, it's not the only way I've known, it's just a way I inculcated. It's not embedded in me, it really isn't.
You see, it's not the liquid, it's me. I'm the friend and the enemy, the headache, the pain, I'm the growing trauma. I'm everything, and the liquid, the Alcohol is nothing, just a fleeting something, nothing significant, at all.
This is not a cry for help, rather it's a solemn realization, a sad one. It's not the Alcohol, it's me. No song and tune to dance to. Just a smile that lingers at the realization that everything will be perfect.
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