Still trailing behind me

“If a person withdraws from the world, then he will discover its stench, whereas one who wanders about in it clothes himself with the rags of worldly delights and pleasures as if with a glorious garment. There is nothing sweeter than to be an outcast in the house of God rather than to dwell in the tents of the sinful world with all the seductions of sensuality, by which Hades obtains most of its booty. My child, love of the world is enmity with God.” 

–Geronda Ephraim of Arizona 

Christ is in our midst! He is and ever shall be! 

Well, I found an old notebook. It starts in December of 2016, which means I was twenty-two at the time of writing making the second page prophetic and I thought I’d share it here, because for the life of me I thought I wrote the following much later. I have been scouring my old notebooks for this thinking it was later, but here we are… Enjoy.

“The thing we forget about alcohol–or having this hole we feel the need to fill with it–is we will never be fulfilled. We will never be complete. And that is OK. Alcohol is a tool used not to satisfy but to quench the fatigue of life, but it only quenches a little… and less and less until it’s actually what is causing the problems. It takes willpower not to be defeated by it, but strength to admit defeat has reached the valley. 

“While you think you have the view, it has the land—its forces are strong and will stop at nothing to vanquish you. This is self-destruction. Grade-A. 

“It’s not interesting, not unique, and not funny. 

“Do not squander who you are or what you want. Otherwise you’ll be at the bar one day wondering where it all went and wondering where your drink went with it. 

“It’s time to be personally responsible for your happiness and freedom. I think this is when some people get involved in God or something. 

“Got to start somewhere. It’s time. Do not one-note yourself.” 

It felt weird reading this passage along with the rest of the notebook, because it’s really indicative of my own worst fears of allowing my baser instincts and urges to control me while watching it happen everyday. Every single entry begins with “Hungover today…” then it goes into some screed about self-loathing. 

My working theory, currently, is that I never really enjoyed drinking. I mean, don’t get me wrong, A man throws back a couple of Jager bombs and pretty much everything is chin-chin, but the act itself never thrilled me; it always felt like I was drinking for everyone else’s benefit. 

And that’s true as much as it is an excuse. 

I guess, looking back, I drank so I wouldn’t feel so lonely, furthermore I drank so I would fit in. Not so much to fit in with everybody else who was drinking, but with the conversation. Drink enough so I can make it through whatever thing we’re all talking about tonight: 

Sports? Give me a beer and I’ll find an opinion. 

Politics? Let me get a vodka and I’ll tell you who I voted for. 

Religion? That’s porch talk, let’s grab a smoke.

Maybe more realistically, I drank so I could keep the logs burning on the fire of self-hatred. There is nothing more intoxicating than self-loathing, a sin borne of pride.

 In any case, the seasons are changing and with the Summer heat leaving in the evenings that lonesome draw to the bar enters my mind like refraction coming off a long road meeting highway blind eyes. It helps to read someone else’s perspective on things, in this case it just so happens to be my own. Almost a different person entirely what with all the makings of who I am now. 

The existential souse either dies to his gods or grows bored with his watering hole worship and turns to Truth.