Sober Not Mature

The crackling static of the line was the only sound in my quiet living room, humming like a hive of anticipation, mirroring the nervous energy that consumed me. It reminded me of the jittery excitement before hitting the ‘go live’ button on the Bud and Roach Show, when my heartbeat seemed to synchronize with the rhythm of my dreams, thudding loudly in my ears. On my table, the clock read 7:55PM, the fingers of time pointed towards an adventure waiting to unfold. My life, which had always been a whirlwind of project rotations and artistic pursuits, paused for a brief moment before embarking on a new expedition. The stage was set for Sober Not Mature. Months ago, during one of my more introspective hours, I had discovered this tiny lighthouse in the vast, tumultuous ocean of the internet. Bill and Mike were the warm-hearted keepers of this haven, their graciousness rippling through the airwaves, touching hearts like mine. Their skillful banter deftly navigated the delicate dance of conversation, maintaining a natural cadence reminiscent of Alonzo and me, back in our B&RS days. As we crossed the 15-minute mark, I felt the pursuit of my ‘radio voice’ melt away, replaced by the raw, real version of me, amplified by the cathartic honesty that sobriety had afforded me. An internal kaleidoscope of thoughts whirled within me, a million fragments of my past each clamoring for attention, vying for their moment in the spotlight. It was a challenge, to condense the essence of my story into a manageable capsule of words, yet I dug deep and unearthed the core of my experiences, painting the tapestry of my journey with broad strokes of conviction. The podcast wound to a close, the echoes of my shared experiences still reverberating in the quiet hum of my living room. Bathed in the soft glow from the computer screen, I exhaled a sigh that seemed to carry years of bottled-up tension with it. Relief washed over me, the chilly tendrils of nervous anticipation retreating, replaced by the warm embrace of accomplishment. I felt the strength return to my legs, the figurative jelly replaced by the concrete of confidence. In the stark reality of sobriety, I was starting to discover who I truly was, beyond the veil of alcohol-induced delusion. The stage was being set for my forthcoming project, Change Your Mind. Each positive interaction, each shared experience, fortified my belief in my destiny. I could feel it. This was only the beginning.

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