Enough Alcohol Does not Exist

Have you ever felt the desire to be real so badly that it consumes every cell that you have in a white hot fire that finds no solace ... it does not destroy or turn to ashes .. there is no final peace ... it simply burns.

Sometimes it seems so close. Like this husk of my skin will fall away and I will be able to see and feel and be .. to experience what it is to be like everyone else. I want to reach out and touch life .. I want to feel it in a way that makes sense. And sometimes that seems just barely out of reach.

Other times it is very far away. The dry logic slips around me in a comfortable shroud of apathy and distance and I experience everything from the inside out instead of the outside in.

Alcohol is not my vice. It is very rare that I drink. For several reasons .. some I have stated .. as in I do not always like who I am when I drink and for a more specific example of that reason I will expound further. Alcohol thins the veneer of apathy. Sometimes in a good way .. sometimes in a bad way. Sometimes the positive and negative switch quicker than people can keep up with. Like flashes of lighting on a plain's vista each shock wave produces a different effect. Not always controlled. So it follows that if you wanted to get to know me really well ... get me drinking. But what you get will be a mixture of really good and really bad for the nice shroud that protects us both will be very ... very thin.

Now that is just a lot of chances I am not willing to allow with the general public. The general public just does not deserve that kind of punishment.

Usually.

Anyway. I was not drunk last night ... but I was drinking. Now I know a lot of people thought I was drunk because they never see me drinking and assumed if I am drinking I therefor must be drunk. There is no law against drinking though I will say there are expectations of not making yourself a nuisance. Anyone that does not understand the difference is ... stupid.

But I begin to digress.

I was perfectly comfortable with my bottle of clear heaven that tastes like pure hell. Feeling the warmth around the edges .. that first little secure blanket of settling numbness. If only I had been drunk .. I probably would never have heard the others speaking of cutting Chay's baby from her womb. If only I had been drunk I might have been so numb all ready as to not care any more. Instead I was caught in the middle where I was just letting go of the tight control ... and before the numb.

But like I said. I was not drunk. I do not believe I have ever been .. that drunk. I like to think there IS a "that" drunk. But part of me knows there is no amount of alcohol that can take away the pain .. the confusion. The bright flashes of something I do not remember. Like a lot of wagons passing my eyes too quickly to see the paintings and only the feelings come through. One after the other too fast to really understand or comprehend. One half of my mind struggling to put together the pieces of the puzzle and the other half intent on sabotage .. rearranging them as quickly as they start to make some sense and before they make a picture.

I wanted to get away. I wanted to get away fast enough that when I stood and backed up I tripped over T'zuri and almost stepped on Saresh. Kam thought I was drunk too. He grabbed my arm .. I suppose to save me some kind of dignity. But I was not drunk and I looked him in the eye so he knew it. I removed his hand from my arm with steady strength in my fingers and there can have been no doubt in his mind that the alcohol had not reached the point of impairment. If only it had.

I wanted to tell him not to do it. Not to cut her apart like that. Not to .. but all I could get out were the words .. do not do it .. please. He probably has no idea what I was talking about and I guess that is all right. Not really my business at all. Some people know. It is not secret. I have spoken of it aloud many times and by now there should be no doubt why I leave the fires when the subject is brought up. But they still think it is amusing and they still think it is just squeamish stomach for something I have no knowledge of. It is better that way. It was just a little too real last night for me. A little too close and I wanted to escape back into the safety of forgetfulness. Back into the tight control. Too late for that I had started drinking ... the only way to get away was to continue. And I had nearly a full bottle of aid in my fingers and I made for damn sure no one would interfere with the curing process.