The Spirits Are Calling

I sat at the bar, my eyes fixed on the tall glass of beer in front of me. Its golden liquid seemed to shimmer in the dimly-lit room, the bubbles rising to the surface like tiny spirits dancing in a frenzy. As I stared at it, my mind started to wander, and I found myself lost in thought. It had been a long journey to get to where I was now, and I had worked tirelessly to make my dreams of superstardom a reality. It was like everything was finally falling into place, and all the hard work was paying off. But as I looked at that glass of beer, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was all just an illusion. The liquor store I had passed earlier read “Spirits”, and this sign would send me down a path of thought that would consume my day. As I sat there, staring at that glass, I started to question everything. All of these years, feeling as though I had been in the presence of a guardian angel, the spiritual entity whom I addressed in my letter signed in blood, was it all just the liquor? The delusions of an alcoholic who had hit a low point in his life? The feeling of being special started to fade away, and I started to question myself in ways that I hadn’t before. I knew I was an alcoholic, but how bad was it really? And how long had I been this way? Was my life now a product of my addiction? Had I been fooling myself all these years, thinking that I was destined for greatness when all I was really doing was chasing a bottle? The more I thought about it, the more I started to doubt myself. The feeling of being special, of having a guardian angel watching over me, started to fade away. It was replaced by a sense of emptiness, a feeling that I had lost myself somewhere along the way. I had become so consumed by my addiction that I had forgotten who I was, and now, as I looked at that glass, I realized that the spirits that had been with me all along were inside of me.