I drink too much.
It all started back in high school where many cans of Blue Star were routinely shotgunned* into one's gullet previous to the parish hall dance. As if acne, raging hormones and chronic insecurity weren't enuf......a healthy dose of alcohol was not unlike throwing gas on an open adolescent flame and more often than not ended up in vomit and regret. The hasty word, the punch poorly thrown, the wrong girl, the complete bullshit.....all symptoms of a far greater pain. Self induced. Sad.
For whatever reason, I have managed to remain openly adolescent my entire life and gasoline and fire have been my constant companions. Always there at my side just waiting to be reintroduced. Dependable. I wish I could say the same for myself.
The two things I love in this world are my family and my band. Unfortunately, they are the ones who pay the highest price for my weakness. Innocent civilian casualties of my own unjustified war . Unacceptable.
I have been granted one final reprieve; one last chance to live up to my real potential and the expectations of those who really matter. And I intend to make the most of it.
Habemus Sufficium (et mea maxima culpa)
Tosh
* puncture the can with a pen and cover hole with mouth. raise can above head and open. oral enema.