Having not seen my mates since the start of the year, i figured i'd make an effort to make an appearance. Although i am almost certain my missing-in-action status had not even crossed any of their minds. So anyway, the DarkRaverz had a gig last night and i thought i'd go and support them. And being the dedicated trooper that i am i sent a SMS to Goatboi in the afternoon, assuming that he'd be going and if i could grab a lift from him.
I promised my dad i'd slow down on my drinking, as it's nearly impossible for me to just have the ONE drink and leave it at that. One drink is usually followed by another and another, which not only was bad for my liver but was evident in my bank balance. However, as expected my love for whiskey + water returned last night and temporarily gave me that confidence that i needed to feel at ease.
And like an owl perched on a branch i sat watching a group of kids dance to the tunes that Drive was spilling out of the speakers. I couldn't help but envy their carefree attitudes and how once upon a time i was just as enthusiastic. Where has she gone?
Surrounded by familiar faces and individuals i call friends, i couldn't help but feel like a fish out of water. And as predicted i kept myself occupied by hiding behind a camera.
As i continued knocking back one glass after the other, i eventually unleashed an emotional side of me that unfortunately my friend had to witness. It didn't help that i drank so much, i can't actually remember specific details but i'm sure i was slurring my merry-go-round words. So i just wanted to say thanks for being so patient and listening to me.
They do say, in order to tell what a true, honest smile looks like, one only has to look at the persons eyes. When a person is not faking a smile, wrinkles on the side of the eyes, also known as crows feet, appears. And it was only through the help of Black Label and Carlsberg that those wrinkles appeared.
I later woke up on my bed with a heavy taste of liquor still in my mouth. There's a trail of my clothes starting from my main door to the foot of my bed. And despite not remembering me walking up the stairs, i did manage to lock my door and take my contacts out. I flip though my drunken snap shots taken from the night and i can't help but notice an uncomfortable existence thats both disheartening and very real.
I wonder, has this new year unveiled an ugly truth? Has my passion for what i strongly believed in finally done me more harm than good?
I promised my dad i'd slow down on my drinking, as it's nearly impossible for me to just have the ONE drink and leave it at that. One drink is usually followed by another and another, which not only was bad for my liver but was evident in my bank balance. However, as expected my love for whiskey + water returned last night and temporarily gave me that confidence that i needed to feel at ease.
And like an owl perched on a branch i sat watching a group of kids dance to the tunes that Drive was spilling out of the speakers. I couldn't help but envy their carefree attitudes and how once upon a time i was just as enthusiastic. Where has she gone?
Surrounded by familiar faces and individuals i call friends, i couldn't help but feel like a fish out of water. And as predicted i kept myself occupied by hiding behind a camera.
As i continued knocking back one glass after the other, i eventually unleashed an emotional side of me that unfortunately my friend had to witness. It didn't help that i drank so much, i can't actually remember specific details but i'm sure i was slurring my merry-go-round words. So i just wanted to say thanks for being so patient and listening to me.
They do say, in order to tell what a true, honest smile looks like, one only has to look at the persons eyes. When a person is not faking a smile, wrinkles on the side of the eyes, also known as crows feet, appears. And it was only through the help of Black Label and Carlsberg that those wrinkles appeared.
I later woke up on my bed with a heavy taste of liquor still in my mouth. There's a trail of my clothes starting from my main door to the foot of my bed. And despite not remembering me walking up the stairs, i did manage to lock my door and take my contacts out. I flip though my drunken snap shots taken from the night and i can't help but notice an uncomfortable existence thats both disheartening and very real.
I wonder, has this new year unveiled an ugly truth? Has my passion for what i strongly believed in finally done me more harm than good?
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