I’ve decided to start a new category on my blog documenting the wonderful flow of thoughts that come to me when I’m slightly intoxicated. I often write when I’m drunk, but I never ever publish these posts. I’m not sure if this is because a tiny part of my brain says, “Jack, delete it, nobody wants to read your bullshit,” or if it’s more along the lines of, “Jesus, you are one twisted fuck, this is scary shit and something you need to get therapy for.”
Now in the art and indeed, the creative world, this is nothing new. A Google search will bring up a number of interesting articles about the use of drugs in the pursuit of artistic creation and I will admit that after having read some of these, I was both impressed and horrified. I read one just last week and I had to Google nearly every single drug the artist tried. His artwork was equally amazing and terrifying. For a closer look, click here.
My drug of choice is legal and in Japan, something that is used for social lubrication. Yep, I’m talking about the good old drug, alcohol. For less than $2 I can buy a can of my favorite drink and get totally wasted in the comfort of my own apartment. Or the park, if I feel like it.
Tonight I’m drinking a new chuuhai flavor from my favorite brand, Suntory. It’s part of their chuuhai ‘Strong Zero’ range and it reminds me of something I used to drink many, many, many years ago.
As I sat in the park tonight and sipped my drink I was transported back to when I was just 17. It was the taste of summer, of endless sunshine, of dreams, of the future. It was the year I had my first serious boyfriend, the year I had my first pregnancy scare and the year I graduated high school.
Tonight, I had my first panic attack since last year when I realized, holy shit girl, that was nearly 17 years ago. I feel the same as I did then. I have to remind myself of all that I’ve been through since then, all that I’ve survived and all that I’ve learned.
Am I any wiser?
Probably not to be honest.
Am I any different?
Yes and no. I am the same, but different.
Would I do anything differently?
Not a thing.
I don’t believe in regrets.
I’ve made some fucking bad choices, but hey, I learned to cut myself some slack because I’m human.
One of the greatest lessons I’ve learned is that I’m harder on myself than anyone else will ever be. I’m more afraid of myself than of anyone else in this world. I’m afraid of the passion I feel, the intensity of my feelings which are personified when I finally take the time to sit still and really BE. This probably explains my endless wandering, my attempts to escape my thoughts and my inability to sit still.
I have to wonder, do I scare others? Is that why I feel that I’m unlovable and yet at the same time, know that two men in particular are completely infatuated with me and don’t know what to do because they too are scared shitless?
Only time will tell. But for now, I’ll have another drink.