Interior, bedroom, evening: Des moves all clean clothes from his bed and adds them to the basket of newly cleaned laundry. The stack piles above his belt as he observes the empty liquor bottles he had been sleeping with for the past month. 2 empty quarts of vodka, a half pint and a quart of Lamb’s 151 had been keeping him company this whole time. He was blind to it until putting his clothes somewhat away. He looked around his room and saw badges of honorable deeds, beautiful artwork, and two neglected keyboards covered in receipts and notes to self that would be ignores for months. Bus transfers and rough copies of poems litter the floor. Workbooks, textbooks and journals everywhere, along with empty water bottles for “covert alcoholic” operations. Dog treats and other drunk purchases line the corners and the areas out of his mother’s immediate view when she opens the door and stands still to tell him good news. Bless her – her patience deserves far more than a pat on the back. He then realizes that the more he cleans, the more reality he’ll need to deal with and potentially feel shit about.
Interior, Alderney Library, day: Des had went to work assuming he may have had appointments while actually being unsure. Turns out there were none, and he fearfully checks his bank account online. There was far less than expected and with the idea of saving in mind, he purchases a pint of vodka knowing that it won’t be too much alcohol for functioning and decides to stick around and write. He finds a book called “The Addiction Solution” by David Kipper, and 1/3 of the way through, leaves the book near his seated area with a note saying: “Out for a smoke break – brb.”
On the break, he meets a man he knows from the local tavern. He gives him a few smokes and has the most pathetic small talk one could fathom. Then he comes back into the library to find that the book was put back. He grabs the book again and finds another place to sit and charge his electronics, but it happens to be at a wide window, showing people waiting for a bus. Without reading labels on cans or bottles, he was able to identify 3 people doing exactly as he was – appearing innocent while drinking in public, with nothing better to do on this Monday but drink in public.
I sympathize, empathize and realize now that I am hardly any different in my actions.
You may feel that this is a pointless post and you’re allowed. Myself on the other hand, happen to be going through yet another transition from being entirely numb to opening up to my surroundings again. It’s easy when it’s got nothing to do with you, but when you throw that laser sharp criticism at yourself, shit happens. This here be the shit. Take a whiff and hope you never end up here.