Wasted Moments

These things happened at some point in my 30ish years of existence, not exactly in order though. Some details during my heavily intoxicated state are worth remembering. Just nothing fancy though, nothing special and nothing sexual. Nothing like you expect. I just have the guts to totally lose myself and act like out of this world when there's enough alcohol to do the trick.

Strange things happen when I'm in strange places. I promise myself that I will only have one epic night per place.

There was one night that I started speaking Portuguese with the mother of my host who prepared an original Caipirinha. The neighbors came to check on me, it was not every day that they had a guest from some faraway land. My friend told me that it was amazing that I could suddenly speak the language, and I said wow, it must be the Caipirinha.

There was one time when I was sitting on a cobblestone street in the wee hours of the morning. There I was again yet in another strange place, high up in the altiplano. I don't know if it's true that one gets easily drunk in the altitude. Perhaps it was just me, just another one of my wasted moments. I knew I was dead and my friend was trying to resurrect me due to the commotion I was causing, "what did you do to her?" I heard one passerby asked. I was mentally aware but my body was paralyzed. There was one guy who dropped a Coca-Cola bottle to my feet, for charity, it was probably all that I needed.

Do I need attention while I'm drunk? No, I think just like being crazy and free. Do I need attention while I'm still alive? Probably yes. That thing is hard to come by these days. It is quite understandable as it can be hard to notice a broken thing. People are too self-absorbed unless they know 'what's in it for me?' Or maybe this is just one those cry-for-help thing because it costs a lot to see a therapist. That kind of thing is for the sad, rich kids somewhere in the first world. While me down here, I'm happy to have a drink. I'll take it if it's free.

"You are too perfect, it is impossible that you don't have a man." I heard that once before but oh man, if you only know how perfectly broken I am. It doesn't take that long for you to find out anyway. Words spill out of my mouth one Tequila shot after the other as you learn more about my brokenness. You'll either see me laughing or crying so hard, sometimes even both. I feel free in my brokenness. I hate to put a strong front every time and still maintain composure against my will during my drunk times. I remember Girl Interrupted, sometimes, I just want to get stuck in an asylum, a nice one though, so I no longer have to live according to society's expectations of being normal. Hey, I'm really crazy, like what do you expect?

There's absolutely nothing lovely about 'cleansing' as they call it during an Ayahuasca session, or should I say just "throwing up". I was trying to hold it for long just so I won't embarrass myself in front of those who look up to my perfection, but then at some point, I still have to run immediately to my safe refuge, the bathroom. And there without a poise, the real cleansing happens. Throwing up all my bad past and memories of yesterday. Trying to live in the moment of my own nasty puke, though it felt like disrespect to what I've only just eaten a couple hours ago. It deserves to stay in my stomach for a bit at least, but I think, feeling it all getting out forcefully out my body, is really living.

There are times I feel like Holly Golightly, I just like to escape. During my drunk times when I'm still quite aware, I want to escape from a man. While their goal apparently is to get laid, my goal is not to end up in someone else's bed. I'm proud of me whenever I woke up, wondering how the hell did I still shower, unlock the door or even do something in front of my computer before I retired to my own bed, unassisted. I've become an escape master. I just like to drink and talk. In fact, it can be too annoying because I talk a lot about what matters in this world right now. I can't count how many times I've escaped, but anyway, I'm proud to be able to always keep my power despite being drunk. I can't afford to lose it all in just one night. I cannot handle both the hangover and emptiness the next day, I'm still human after all.

I know there's no good reason to turn my wasted moments into some kind of a literature or turn my puke into art. I just like to recount the nights that I'm completely worry-free. When I'm drunk, none of these things matter. I can say and be anything I want, it's the liquid courage. I know I'm not the only one, everyone has something crazy in them too.

Strange things happen when I'm in strange places. I promise myself that I will only have one epic night per place.