If you’ve followed this blog for a little while you’ll have an understanding of my battle with alcohol… and what I’ve been up to.
For a little while, I have been experimenting with alcohol thinking that maybe I could re-introduce it into my life on a controlled basis. It has been a dangerous experiment and probably one that I thought I could do successfully. I may have talked myself into thinking I could do it because of my condition.
I’m realizing that I can’t. I’d like to be able to still have that beer at a barbecue or a sporting event but I can’t. It’s just too much of a slippery slope that I inevitably fall down on and crash all the way to the bottom. Right now, I’m laying in bed and feeling like mental, emotional and physical hammered shit because I was drinking yesterday. I hate myself for doing what I did. My state of mind is one of futility and worthlessness and hopelessness. And I don’t want to feel this way.
I was telling myself, as I lay here, that I have to quit doing this. To just stop. And then I realized my own trap… I’m saying that I have to quit this. That I haven’t made a decision or a change by recognizing this. I’m putting it off… delaying the decision. Instead… I am saying to myself… I choose to quit drinking. Right now. I quit.
Do you remember Kevin Spacey’s character in Horrible Bosses? You know him… the super-mega asshole, Dave Harkin, who’s motto was:
Well, I’ve discovered that there is a basis for this statement in reality. While I’m running around in soccer, I sweat and my own friggin nipples rub against the inside of my shirt. So much so that they get super sensitive and painful. Who’da thunk it?
Marathon runners will definitely attest to this as a fact and there are tons of pics out on the Internet of poor, unfortunate bastards who forgot their band aids and their nipples were bleeding by the time they were finishing the race.
Granted, I think I’m far enough away from THAT happening to me but it still keeps me aware.
In lieu of my annual Soundgarden – 4th of July video post, I bring you the Hulkster playing a Stars & Stripes guitar in front of the American flag. Cuz ‘Merica.
It kind of feels like the traditional blog is dying out there on the Internet. With all of the social media formats out there… you are almost wasting your time by stringing together anything longer than 140 characters because most likely it’s not going to get read.
I’m on a bunch of these social media sites; Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, SnapChat, Vine… just to name most the popular ones… and it feels like the attention span for content is getting shorter and shorter. Most likely, I’ve already lost half of you that might have started reading this post.
It’s all become a popularity contest for who can get the most likes the fastest. Content? Fuck the content. Fuck the thought and fuck the integrity. Just give it a like. Maybe it will go viral and I’ll become Internet-famous.
I fall into the trap too. Coming up with things to write about or sitting down to type my thoughts and feelings out can really be a lot of effort. And I don’t do it often enough. But when it comes down to writing a post here, it’s not about getting popular. It’s not about getting recognized. It’s not about going viral. It’s about getting my thoughts and feelings out and real. It’s about the process… the journey… and not the result or the destination. In the end, I’m writing for me and not for you.
Normally, I’d probably be on my way to getting shitfaced and sunburned… maybe not quite yet… I’d have waited until the afternoon though.
At least the weather is nice (for now) so I can get on that sunburned part anyway. Get outside and maybe kick a soccer ball around a bit!