That Demon Alcohol

OK. I believe that secrets, and things left inside gain power, so I'm gonna put this out there. If I say it out loud I won't have to act on it.

I want to get drunk. I want to get numb. I want to be, throw away the cap, turn the bottle over my face, can't see, can't walk, can't remember, lose myself in the madness drunk. I want to drink away every painful and overwhelming well spring that bubbles up inside me, and just flood them over with alcohol. I want to get so drunk that even the whiskey feels embarrased.

I want to hoot and hollar, and yell about nothing. I want raging parties, a raging blood-stream, and endless release. I want to kiss someone I'd never kiss sober. I want to fall down and hug that toilet and yell into it as though it were screaming back. I want to sound a drunken yawp which carries every bit of emotion out of my body. Then I want to start again. I want to drink until I feel that click.

I want bed-spins and blackouts. I want to pass out on some couch thankful it's not a dumpster, or pass out in some dumpster thinking it is a couch. I want to act like it's spring break in Mazetlan. I want to be cut off by the bartender so I can start at another bar. I want to exhaust that one so I can drink a twelve pack at home. I want to stand in front of a toilet for five minutes deciding whether to puke or piss. I want to lose track of all time and space, and spend even one night away from the truth. I want to wake up still drunk and wonder what happened after nine 'o' clock. I want whole sections of my life to be washed away into a drunken haze.

I want bloody beers for breakfast, and champagne and orange juice with brunch. I want beer and football by two, and pre-dinner martinis as an apertif. I want a bottle of wine with dinner, a glass of port between courses, and chilled Grand Marniere with desert. I want to retire to the lounge for Bourbon and cigars, and have endless circular conversations with my drunken fellows. I want an entire schedule comprised of stuff that doesn't matter, filled with opulence and excess. I want to embrace my American sense of 'more!', and create a status quo of numbness. I want to consume! I want to choke out the stuff that makes me feel, and fill myself back up with food and beverage.

I want to be challenged to a drinking competition by midnight, and choke down twenty shots just to exert, my strength and virility. I want a thick glaze to form over my eyes, and alcohol to stream from my pores when I exercise. I want bar tabs on my credit card that I don't remember signing for. I want car-bombs, and Boiler Makers, frosty steins and martini shakers. I want to face the two headed dragon of liquor and slay him with my thirsty tongue. I want to dance atop the beer kegs, and table tops. I want to fall off of the same bar stool 17 times and get back on that horse. I want to feel stronger than I've ever felt, unbeatable and unstoppable. I want to slake my thirst for comfort and rise as a stone cold army of one.

I want a glass of beer to ask me if it's a good idea to drink anymore, and I want to say YES. I want to skirt authority and reason. I want to get drunk. I want to get out of my head. I want to get piss-drunk, waisted, hammered, oblitherated, shnockered, fucked-up, twisted, sideways, fubar, retarded, intoxicated. I want to get numb, silly, stupid, dangerous, and crazy. I want to stand at the edge of each metaphorical cliff and have no fear.

I want to drink you under the table, and I could. . . If I drank.

I have been sober for 1 year, 8 months, and 17 days.

Sobriety is probably the best thing I have ever done for myself, but sometimes I wish I could go back. Not really, it's just something I think about. The problem is once I start that's what I do.