I Am Sick Of Drinking

Lance Shields
Lance Shields

I am sick of drinking. A beer or two at home, a glass of wine while sitting alone is fine, but I hate going out to drink. Itโ€™s tiresome; it seems phony. I canโ€™t connect with anyone who just wants to run around on the weekends with a buzz going. It doesnโ€™t do anything for me anymore. Itโ€™s like sex with a mediocre old fuck buddy, you do it just to try and feel something.

I sit on the couch in pajama pants staring out the window. Another party waits, I should be getting my hair done. Instead I yawn, my eyes glaze over and I think about everything else I should be doing. Finding a new job. Walking around Barcelona. Volunteering in a soup kitchen.

I wish I could be satisfied with late nights, high heels and vodka. I do. Things would be a lot easier. I do not dub myself more important or special than anyone out right now in a button-up drinking whiskey talking about where to get the best burrito in town. Sometimes, I wish I was that.

I simply canโ€™t bring myself to get up and out. My insides scream, get up and out, just not to another club, another house, another empty beer-infused make-out session. I cling onto text messages from a co-worker. He trusted my advice enough to buy Walden but I know the minute after we do some shots his hands will creep all over my body and he will forget the exchange of brilliance we have had. Our lives donโ€™t mean anything and with every breath we are dying, so letโ€™s make it count. Instead his hand will slide up my thigh and Iโ€™ll close my eyes and forget everything that was said just to try and orgasm. To try and forget that I usually have no idea what I am doing.

The chess set is laying before me, but I canโ€™t make a move yet. Not enough money, not enough time. I need to make time. I need to sip vodka straight and get straight to the roots of my heartโ€™s desires. Of what really gives me goosebumps. Iโ€™ve had plenty of beers and orgasms. I need a life orgasm. Relax. Relief. Escape.

Our countryโ€™s falling apart and everyone holds their breath. I try to cling onto the things I hold dear, while still placing my hands over my ears to drown out the lies and hate that people get high off of saying about me. I am not the guy in the button up shirt with scotch. Iโ€™m the girl who watches Batman on Netflix, craves travel and looks for life beyond the barstool. TC mark

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