Having My Moments

There are days when the weight of the world feels unbearable, and I find myself suffocating under its oppressive presence. It’s as if the universe is conspiring against me, and all I want is to retreat from it all and be left alone in my solitude. The sky above seems to mirror my inner turmoil, dark and foreboding, threatening to unleash a torrential downpour that matches the storm raging within me. In the past, when faced with such overwhelming emotions, my first instinct was to seek refuge in the comforting embrace of alcohol. I would rush to the store, my sanctuary of choice, and grab a six-pack of beer. Returning to the solitude of my couch, I would indulge in one beer after another, the clinking of bottles marking the passing of time. It was a dangerous dance, a precarious game of chance. With each sip, I would toss a coin into the air, uncertain of the outcome. Would the alcohol lull me into blissful numbness, momentarily sweeping away the pain? Or would it awaken the slumbering beast within, fueling its destructive rage? These days, although I still rely on cannabis to tame the relentless grip of anxiety, I cannot help but feel a tinge of regret for the path my life has taken due to my inability to control my alcoholism. It seems like only yesterday I sat on the sidewalk outside a local bar, savoring the taste of a cold beer while the world carried on around me, oblivious to my existence. In those moments, I would seek solace in old videos showcasing my past accomplishments, desperately clinging to a self-aggrandizing sense of worth. It may seem foolish to admit, but that was my lifeline for far too long. Now, the absence of that crutch forces me to confront my reality head-on, each and every day. There is no respite, no escape. I am forever trapped within the confines of a harsh, unrelenting existence, while those around me revel in the blissful ignorance of simple pleasures. Even the profound experience of DMT, a journey down the rabbit hole of existence itself, failed to provide me with a satisfactory explanation. How could I possibly convey the ineffable, the surreal landscapes and alternate dimensions that I had witnessed? The weight of that knowledge pressed upon me, and I retreated further into myself, drowning my thoughts in an ocean of booze. It was a temporary reprieve, a way to cope with the extraordinary visions that only a select few would ever comprehend. But the universe had other plans, and it abruptly slapped me awake, forcing me to confront the destructive path I had chosen. Yes, I am grateful for my sobriety and the positive turn my life has taken. I carry with me the memories of all the pain and devastation that alcohol brought into my world. However, I cannot deny the absence of those moments when I could let go, escape, and unleash the pent-up emotions that threaten to consume me. What remains now is a relentless machine, driven solely by the pursuit of accomplishment and success, denying me the luxury of rest. And in this moment, as I pour my thoughts onto the page, I am acutely aware of the machine I have become—a complex amalgamation of ambition and determination, a vessel that propels me forward without respite.

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