| Left behind in a public bathroom, it makes me wonder. | 
Sometimes I wonder why idling feels so comfortable to me.
Sometimes I'm amazed at how comfortable I am with stepping on the gas when I need to.
Sometimes (and I do not intend this to be analytical not judgmental if at all possible) I am curious what compels adults to get drunk. (Teens I mostly understand: they seem to court drunkenness because they haven't yet figured out their authentic selves are much much more interesting than what they hope to de-emphasize or overemphasize about their developing personalities.)
Sometimes I wonder if adults are just teens with mortgages.
Sometimes I think some people get drunk because they're genuinely happy. It's simply a celebration, a bonding opportunity. Yet, I wonder...are they sad? Or numb? Is it a shell remover? Or a method to gather courage and light a fire with it?
Sometimes I wonder if I disappoint (alienate? disillusion?) my friends and acquaintances because I cannot be anyone's drinking buddy. I cannot get drunk. Sure, I enjoy a drink or two but getting drunk? That just sounds so exhausting.
Sometimes I wonder why drinking feels exhausting to me.
Sometimes I wonder if it's at all possible to get to the bottom of something (or someone or anything or especially myself).
 
Wine makes me nicer.
ReplyDeleteAs to your first paragraph Freud certainly would have agreed with you.
ReplyDeleteIM To drnkkkk to
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