I Want To See The Light

My life had become a whirlpool of chaos and darkness, with alcohol as the center, consuming me entirely. I was trapped in a world of my own creation, a twisted dimension inhabited only by me and the ghosts of my past. The religious upbringing of my youth had left me with a deep-seated fear of Armageddon, and the eerie stories I had grown up with clung to me like a malevolent shadow. It was this connection to the spiritual world that I could not sever, and it became the foundation of my descent into addiction. At this low point in my life, I was floundering at work, gulping down hard liquor daily just to get through the day. The mundane tasks that defined my existence had become an unbearable burden, and I felt a force tugging at me, pushing me towards a dangerous precipice. I had heard whispers of demonic entities in the entertainment industry, of blood oaths taken to secure fame and fortune. A believer in the spiritual realm, I would drink myself into a stupor and pace the streets, contemplating whether signing my name in blood would transform my life. Magic, they say, resides in the heart of the believer. Although I have since outgrown the legitimacy of the events that transpired that night, the consequences would haunt me for years to come. As I watched the ink mingle with my blood, the makeshift contract before me seemed to pulsate with a sinister energy. A wave of dread washed over me, but the alcohol coursing through my veins drowned out any doubts or fears. In that intoxicated state, I willingly spilled my blood, my surroundings spinning around me as the world began to fade away. When I finally regained consciousness, the candles had been snuffed out, the objects used in the ritual strewn across the floor, and my blood oath reduced to ashes. I had sought the light, but instead, I had plunged headfirst into a world of pain and suffering. With every drink, the twisted reality I had birthed grew stronger, and instead of facing my demons and acknowledging my alcoholism, I fabricated reasons to keep drinking. I became convinced that I needed to be the “most entertaining” version of myself to uphold the terms of my blood oath. The pressure to perform weighed heavily on my shoulders, driving me deeper into the bottle and further away from the people I loved.

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