It’s funny. Once you start telling people that you no longer drink, they start coming forward with these little remedies. These little life perks that are going to, somehow, make it all better.
I have a friend who is now hellbent on getting me to try Acid or LSD or whatever the cool kids are calling it these days. He solemnly swears that it will help with my depression and open me up to what true happiness is.
This same guy has just spent a week at a music festival off his tits on Coke, Molly and Acid. So, as you might imagine, he’s a strong back of recreational drugs.
Acid terrifies me. My brain is already a nightmare factory. Why the fuck would I want to take that nightmare factory and manifest it as something I can physically interact with? The last thing I want is demon clowns representing my hatred for my father dancing around in front of me with butcher knives. That’s pant-shittingly scary.
And when you’re off booze all of a sudden everyone thinks weed is the best thing in the world. “Just smoke weed, dude!” Don’t get me wrong, I like weed. Kind of. I like to get high. I just hate smoking. The act of smoking. I’d much rather do edibles, but the last edibles I had ended up sending me to Pluto.
Truth is, I don’t really need a substitute. And if I did, I could substitute it with something more interesting than drugs. Like Chipotle or blowjobs.
I don’t really need something to fill that hole (“Helloooo nurse”). Well, nothing mind altering anyway.
And yes, as I progress with this new “diary”, I will stop whining about booze. I promise. I might actually do something exciting that’s worth writing about. If not, I plan on using this place as a place to dump any fiction I might write. I want to get back into writing again.
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