I have drank for so many years to forget,
I have only overlooked what I am supposed to be forgetting, And forgotten to disremember,
You still nag behind this hyperactive mind,
All the while my new friends have me serenely anesthetised, This carefree world rushes by me,
As in suspended animation I survive,
Outside my cobwebbed window on to this life,
Seasons change and move inexplicably on,
Gazing through these translucent eyes as it passes me by,
I remain in the company of Mr Jim Beam and Sir Arthur Guinness, Ernest and Julio pop round for a swift one here and there,
But in the familiarity of a lifelong friend,
Mr J Daniels,
I will always stay,
This is the rose tinted glasses view on alcohol, the one that kept me in its never ending circle. I picked only the golden memories from those days, I forget eating honey nut shreddies with ketchup and American mustard, because it was the only edible thing I had in the house, plenty of wine, bourbon, whiskey and beer, no food, no milk, and no money to buy any. The trouble is when I think of my life drunk, I pick those fun nights, getting barred from Chinese restaurants, being a a pool party with 20 something girls in the early hours of Monday morning, I was 35 and my boss must have been 30.
I remember many times having great nights out, down the locals, on a pub crawl, riding bikes to the pub, funny stories, and it seemed like this was the life I was meant to be living. Fun. In life everything has a negative side, there were many nights on my own, drunk, and wishing this life to be over, sadness that cant be covered up, it will wait for you to be sober, 20 years down the line it will be there to make its point, but oh so many good nights.