One of the most enjoyable moments is getting drunk in the middle of the night, listening to some bizarre music, thinking you are the only victim in the world, flowing into a world you know you will never belong to.
People are less sensitive than they think they are while they are toward others. When they face themselves they have too much sensitivity that they shouldn’t have had to which makes the life even harder. Escapism doesn’t clear away the world, instead, it enhances it into the dense grass of alcohol.
Give it a little break. Give the soul a small reason to excuse for. It needs a room to breath and the room that allows all the crossing lines is alcohol. The head is heavy, the soul is rush out to search for another world to breathe on.
What’s called “sober house” or “rehab” is the catcher for the soul separator. What they want to catch is the spirit, the one was separated from the body; it’s the soul that doesn’t want to belong to the body. It’s the betrayer.
There’s right person in the world that doesn’t care or the wrong person cares that makes up the excuse. It’s the unideal world tries to fill up the ideal world in the inner self. Loneliness makes up the space in your head that you need to fill some “numb” liquid in in order to make it stop the pain accompanied with that.
What else will be? The dance with the dizzy head, the muse of the thoughtless. The music covering up the music-less. Is it a release from the heavy self that feels separated from the others, or the heavy body? What should you blame for? The self that finally finds way out or the self that lost itself in the grass of some darkness?