Vodka. Champagne. Tsipouro. Gin with lime. Wine. More champagne. More wine.
The night was late and I could hear their voices. Silly teenagers drunk to the core. I filled my ears with Ana Laura music and sunk myself into deep sleep. Eventually, my eyes would drift and I would no longer hear their loud voices. Teenagers wasting away and giving their life to a momentary bliss.
I was sixteen and I knew how foolish it was to simply drink into the unknown. Letting the alcohol take the best of you within a group of horny boys and girls. For that was their very being – they were lustful and empty. Seeking a fill, but still always coming up empty.
My logic prevented me from joining in. A tagging thought rested in the back of my mind. Stay clear to your normality. A fearing emotion of the possibilities kept me straight. I could drink and be merry with those silly teens, but if my mind went wasted, would I ended up regretting the outcome? I stayed away.
A week of drinking on and off – Friday the focal point.
No guilt staggers my mind for the amount I’ve consumed. I’d say, it really wasn’t that much. One drink a night. Only Friday did I drink extensively. My glass went half full and I’d fill it up again. I must have drunk five or six or seven glasses of wine and/or champagne.
I broke two things that night: our water filter and a ‘keep away the mosquitos’ candle.
The thing about my drinking of Friday is that I didn’t feel like I was drunk. Tipsy, I was maybe, but not drunk. Not nearly as close to that, no. I just felt very relaxed. I knew my body was having a hard time keeping balance, but my mind still felt sharp. I talked to so many people and felt so at ease. Normally, I feel a bit on the edge with Greek people. Some because I know they know me and I know them, but there’s awkward feelings in between. Or others because I don’t know well. However, that night, I introduced myself and spoke to people without a care in the world.
I simply did as my mind often wants me to act.
The tension in my shoulders and quiet self wasn’t there to keep me from acting less self-cautious.
I was all over the place. Conversing with people and walking from one table to another. So much fun. I enjoyed myself beyond words.
Alcohol is not a joke. In the company of trustworthy people and friends it’s enjoyable. Perhaps, an edge to push us all off our insecurities to actually celebrate in a way our hearts long for – as long as you’re careful.
I am simply intrigued and fascinated by the way this liquid works and the stigma it entails.