When I spend an entire weekend drinking whiskey, I often spend the entire week trying to forget that I did so. I try to forget the spices and the burn, the bubbles from the ginger ale that I mixed it with. I try to forget the taste all week-long. I think the best way I can explain this would be to compare it to the morning after you had your first party at your parents house. You were probably not yet of age to be buying the alcohol you were drinking and I have a good feeling that the age corresponds fairly well to how well your guests actually cleaned up after themselves. [Or maybe you just have shitty, messy, and/or incompetent friends…] That being said, you wake up the following morning with an ache in your head. Your parents living room is comparable to a dreadful, smelly landfill. There’s some strange dude you don’t recognize asleep amongst the mess. Your first move should be to wake up the drunk asshole and remove him from Mt. Krumpet, but his skin is the color of the Grinch. You cross your fingers and leave him be, hoping he’ll leave on his own accord and soon. [With any luck he’ll do so without topping your heaping pile of problem with vomit frosting.]
You focus on getting rid of half empty bottles and solo cups down the drain of your sink, but then it happens- the scent of last nights liquid mistakes. It smacks you in your nostrils so hard, with such force, that your eyes water, you lean forward, forget your name, and puke your metaphorical soul out of your body for far, far too long. Now imagine that minus the physical puke. So just constant hot mouth, lack of appetite, and severe headaches. Now trade “forgetting your name” for smelling and tasting whiskey in your every beverage when it’s not there, not a single drop. Imagine feeling the burn when there is nothing to cause the burn.
If my mother thought I had an imagination when I was younger, she should try to deal with it now that I’m an “adult”.
Here are some other examples of my odd head and it’s thought process.
1. When I was younger I was afraid of the dark because I believed in ghosts. Ghosts, posession, spirits, and demons. I believed that there were good and bad ones and the bad ones hid in the shadows while they plotted how to startle or injure you. I would not spend a minute longer than necessary in my basement until i was well into my “adult” years. I don’t know when I stopped believing, but I did. My view on death is a bit more straight and to the point now. When you die, you just die. Your energy is used to bring life to something else waiting for it and your body is left to decay. There is no time for ghosts, there is no time for souls. You just die and get recycled.
2. I am still afraid of the dark, but not because of ghosts and goblins. I’m afraid of the dark because people can hide in the dark. People that need to hide probably aren’t good people. So, much like I used to when I was worried about ghosts and demons, I rush through my cellar. I walk quickly when I go to the bathroom at night. I book it from my vehicle to my house when the sun is down and I’m alone. And I do that with a key stationed firmly between index and pointer fingers, sticking out from a closed fist… I live in a suburb.
3. When I drive alone I lock my doors no matter where I’m going. But I won’t do that until I’m able to thoroughly inspect my backseat for any unexpected and unwanted passengers.
4. I lock my car everywhere, even nice neighborhoods and private driveways where the surrounding houses have nicer cars than my own. This isn’t because I have nice stuff in my car, but because I don’t know what I would do if I happened upon someone digging through it.
5. Sometimes when my head is really hazy I’ll imagine certain people only talking to me for their own hidden reasons. I know that sounds really awful but I entertain some strange ideas in my head when under certain influences. Shrug. I never mention these feelings because it’s never worth it. I know very well how I can be.
6. Sometimes when I drink enough alcohol I’ll imagine temple guards looming in the shadows of my home, waiting to snatch me up and take me away somewhere I wouldn’t recognize forever. I haven’t any gold pendants, not even a piece of one… If you did not watch Legends of the Hidden Temple as a child then you not only have no clue what I’m going on about, but you also did not know true fear as a child. End of story.
I could go on with this list, however about halfway through that last confession I realized that only when I was a child was this considered having a “big imagination”. Now I suppose a doctor would probably call it paranoia, anxiety, unrealistic worries, depression… So before I give too much of myself away here, I’ll quit while I’m ahead.
1. Elliott Smith – Pictures of Me
2. Paul Simon – Paranoia Blues
3. The Dresden Dolls – Girl Anachronism
4. Elliott Smith – King’s Crossing
5. Bright Eyes- Arienette
6. Bob Dylan – Man in the long black coat
Over and Out.