Its been a long week, dragged my ass in front of the keybord to type while bubbles going up in a glass reminds me about the freshness of my undrinked cold brew.
my drunken friend, the one that got his ass kicked, dumped and almost goes AA, tells me that he had a rough weekend. How's that?
well, you know, same old, but on saturday something really awful happened. What is it?
well, our mutual friend, we talked and i apologized to him and her about the whole show i gave at my house, in his birthday. we got together and went to a party, but before, we took some acid at the girlfriend house. we were good, no bad feelings whatsoever, just having a nice time. we went to a party, and the dude starts ranting bout going to buy more beer, and it seem that the acid hit him bad, so he starts drinking and drinking and then got pissed cause he thought some dude was moving on his girl and went crazy, so we had to go, and when we arrived at his place he started to kick the front door of his house and totally loosed control, so his dad comes out and starts and starts to shout and cry cause his son was so wasted and mad, so he had a heart attack, right there in the front of the house, in front of me, him and his girlfriend.
after hearing all this on the phone, i just got quiet and kind of angry. i thought about calling this dude that very same day in the afternoon before the whole thing happened, but didnt. im not saying i could've saved the damn day or anything, but maybe thing could've been different. anyways, since that phone call was on sunday night, i didnt sleep until 4am, just thinking about how fucked up that shit was, thinking how guilty my dude must feel, provoking a heart attack on his old man. the week went slow, just finishing a kind of business i have going around (not drugs), and trying to get some work done in my actual job.
when i was 20, i crashed in an isuzu trooper at 70 mph. I was so wasted, dont remember much, just that after the car stopped moving, i was upside down, and the car radio was still on, black sabbath. nothing happened to me or to my other 7 friend that were with me. I just have a scar in the back of my right ear that remind me about how i trashed that fucking car. and to how that damn bottled liquid can play tricks on ur mind.
alcohol runs strong in my family, my grandpa was a drunk, so was my uncle n my aunt and 2 of my sisters. It was really sweet that everyone got together to drink their asses off, and us little children ran around, playing and tasting the few drops that were left in the beer n scotch bottles, knowing that even do it didnt taste so good, there was a secret to it, something that was irresistible to the grown ups, and to us as well. The first alcohol i really enjoyed as a kid was wine, then beer, then the spirits. This people, they could live a normal life, and get home from work and drink a well deserved drink. the trick is that they walked the thin line, without falling to the drunkard abyss. so do most of the people that drink heavily and still can manage to have a life besides the booze. Right now, i do prefer weed, no nasty hangover, no lost of balance, no intoxication. But alcohol just calls me back, ive got like a whole set of drunks in my blood, my father, his father and so on, that alcohol thirst, ahh...this beer is good.
well, the thing was that alcohol seem to be involved around in a lot of big nasty moments in my life and the life of my buddies; maybe its not a curse nor the actual cause for this unpleasant moments, but it is a disaster assistant; even so, the damn thing just keeps on tasting good. drink them if you got them. thanks for reading.