bottom

the other night i went to a friend’s party. before i went, i loaded myself with 4 beers. i didn’t expect to be the first one there! looks like it’s me who is living in the past. well… to be more accurate, there are two core selves to this ambiguous entity called me; the drunken wildman and the silently desperate recluse. anyways, many, many drinks and hours later i found myself bloody and wondering what the fuck just happened? apparently someone had decked me while in a queue to a nightclub. a friend helped me get to the hospital and let me sleep on her couch. got two stitches, a minor concussion and some bruises and cuts on face and body. still have no recollection of what happened. even the hospital is a big blur. like a dream. i still tell myself that i am not an alcoholic. i almost always quit drinking after every time i drink (which is not that often) because shit happens to me when i drink. the drunken me is a monster. and most of my friends are friends with the monster. they don’t know me but that’s my fault. i am scared to be the real me in front of others. i am weak! fucking weak. and my ego is strong as hell. but in some way, i feel like i needed this. it’s a good reminder for me that unlike yours truly, people are actually living their lives and going somewhere. we are not teenagers anymore. it’s time to grow the fuck up. and unlike them, I think it’s all a big fucking dirty lie! even I am a lie. everything around is built on a lie. but my ego is trying to fight this truth with all it’s got because it knows that when i see through the lie, it’s goodbye misery. for now, it’s still got me by the balls. stuck here in the bottom. in a dark hole. it has been said, to get out of a hole, first you must stop digging.