Things That Bang

What calms the nerves? Taking a shower, going for a walk, talking it out or just brooding works for many people, but for me, its whiskey on the rocks. I’m like one of those 50’s heroes who under stress, take that acid down in one shot or two, grit their teeth and sober down.

I walked to the bar, poured half a glass of neat whiskey, ice and a little water (water was added, for the mate was protesting) and within two gulps the drink went down. Phone calls came from family trying to make sense of my anger – ‘Calm down, have a ball, it ain’t worth your while!! what’s wrong with you? Think!!’ But I was mad, on a rampage, no hugs or humor could bring me down from my righteous pulpit, but when it hit me, it hit me hard, my nerves calmed and clarity came.

I ain’t gonna excuse using a shot of booze to sort out my head. I know there are those who’d love to show me healthier ways of managing the red tide that overtakes my sanity - yoga, meditation or breathing in the smell of flower, listen to some Yanni or some other elevator music but for me its alcohol. Think I am an alcoholic? You’d wish!! I ain’t that stupid, I ain’t saying anything in my defense. Sure, you’d like me to say I don’t drink every evening – no whiskey, no Breezer, no vodka, no beer, hell! Not even a glass of wine. I’m not gonna say anything to appease your morality, your concerns nor will I put up with your unconditional love. I don’t care nor should you that I don’t nurse my drink nor do I nurse a grudge.

Grudge - ah! The term brings to mind all the wrongs done, all the tears wiped, all the disappointments branded to the bones. Whiskey - the sweet little bottle brings to mind quiet reflections – everything that is loathsome and jetsam. Smooth is life but it’s us who complicates trivial matters, matters I can either take up or let be.

Sobriety hits when mad desperation wants to make sense of all that does go wrong and eats the soul, some hit the bottle but all I do is take a shot, use poison to calm the poison within. Poison or the darkness within; you look at the sunshine and I look at what kills us silently from within.

Do I hear you say- the fool is on one way ticket to self destruction? The fool loves to drink, loves to look at what we want to negate, remove or think doesn’t exist.

Maybe in my moments of madness I speak the truth; I strip the veneer of civilized pussy footing; some bridges I mend and some I scorch to the ground. I ain’t nursing no grudges, the bottle wouldn’t let me; as it courses in my veins, it whispers sadness, tells me that the child within me died a little more, the jaded emerging self polishes and hardens my heart a little more. No, I don’t hit the bottle at a drop of a hat, been over ten years since I let the bottle sway me senseless.

Did I just explain myself to you? Ramble on a moment of vulnerability that someone may think makes a good weapon to kill me with. Go ahead, use it; I stand before you – soul bared with all its light and dark aspects.

My fearlessness makes my love and hatred that much purer for I have nothing to hide, life is easier that way; I am whatever you think I am. I am not going to deny - all that is within is without. Every evil that exists in the world exists to some degree within me. The anger, the jealousy, the hatred, the greed; say it and I have it within me. Why deny? To some extent, I have felt them all, accepted them as unwanted guests and pondered over their unexpected arrival.

Is it the bottle talking? Nah, I am sober like a two year old at her baptism, all uppity and naive. Just telling you the way it is with me - judge me, hate me or accept me, if it makes you feel the bigger person. To me, its just one big nothing.