Craving Alcohol’s Oblivion

P1010406A sad lonely man, who used to drink a bit.  No company in his apartment, not unless the TV and bottle of booze count as friends.  No food, no sleep, no fresh air, no exercise.  Emptiness, not feeling, not thinking, not even living.  Slow suicide, painful degradation, deserved opprobrium.  Dionysus or Bacchus ~ drunks by any other name can still stink of stale booze.  That’s better than the smell of vomit, regurgitated whisky and bile, Chanel it’s not.  All it takes is a perceived slight, another wrong word, another wrong turn, another disastrous depression.

I’ve been there, but not this time.


5 responses

  1. Oh, Sir. This makes me so very sad. My brother-in-law sought this oblivion and was found dead on his bedroom floor surrounded by 21 empty bottles of tequila. His pain stopped, but it didn’t end. It just transferred to all those left behind that had to clean up the messes he left. Your writing is so incredibly beautiful, tears run down my face now, hoping you and all those around you will NEVER meet the same destructive fate. Know there are people who care.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you for your kind words. Today all is well with my world, because there are people who care.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. Yes Sir! And please don’t EVER forget that. I’m always here if you need a friendly shoulder. 😃

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Sounds like the short road to the final path of life . Think it Time to do a 180 degrees turn around go in new direction see where new road goes .

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you. Today I am good.


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