it's a mystery the perfect sky, the violence in the storm clouds the wild in the lightning the distance in the stars.
there's a depth of fathoms unknown in the perfect sky, all high and out of reach, all thin and passing, all wide no edges to be seen.
I want to fly in the perfect sky, no wings or space ship, no rockets and steal, just skin on the universe, so I can feel.
I'm still writing about my experience as I go through Febfast. it's gotten harder on one level and more fulfilling on another.
I realise now how much alcohol plays a part my attempt to stop the world turning, to stop my mind running over things that have gone, things that were never, and things that I still can't see. Yes perhaps a numbness, but also a happy diversion. A place to stare empty at sport unfolding news breaking comedy attempting drama struggling and people unwinding.
I've noticed a normal in drinking, a normal to finish the day, begin the evening, to say hello, to say goodbye, to have a meeting, to comfort, to listen, to relieve.
I've noticed a reaction to not drinking, "are you sure?", a constant question as if the decision was leading down a painful path, as if a separation, a divide was being put in place there and then. Drinkers go places non drinkers can't go - it's not bars and pubs I speak of, it's a place that most who have been addicted to heroin will understand. When you need a hit and it's been a while, when it comes, it's relief from heaven.
The reaction from people at the end of their days to have a glass of their choice and sit, sip, and breath in and out - this is the relief of someone begun a journey away from somewhere they've had enough of for now.
I understand the desire for, but now I understand even more the need to not.
To be faced with one self, sober for all the world to see, feeling - helplessly feeling all the time. Thinking, knowing, understanding and living each day from the first to it's last with nothing but the air you breath to take contemplation to another level. This requires a world within, a place of giving away and letting go, a place of wild and adventure as the world turns more real than it has before.
The need to escape doesn't disappear, it's replaced with time, perhaps to much doing, but in the end it's replaced with me. I spend more time with me sober.
I'm the Night Writer, I'm on Febfast, and you can support me in my journey to raise money for young people struggling with drug and alcohol issues across Australia.
www.febfastfundraising.com
It doesn't take much to give life - a nights drinking money ... plus the kebab money!
No comments:
Post a Comment