Pompeii in Motion

    All I have is now. All I need is now. All I am is now. And that's okay. And that is good. It's understood: The world is still and I am moved. Now is a food and I am full.

   Trent ran from me, his face a silent scream, and me, too drunk to follow him, as he would have expected. I could not ask for forgiveness drunk. Drunken promises. Broken dreams. Friendships ruined. Broken bottles, lies, hearts. A silent scream. This must have happened to a stranger because it could not have happened to me. On a run. On the run. When would I trip and fall? Or had I already fallen, running with a tray full of drinks, a lifetime full of drinks.

Evening Meditation

 

    Denial was my Tootsie Pop, the caramel of my addiction within this hardball sugar coating. Gumdrops, lollipops and cocaine. Wrapped too tight, too loose to explain. Blackouts from drinking rolled in coconut. Or cocaine. How did I survive this? How will I survive this? I cannot, should not, must not do this alone.

 

   “The ego is not master of its own house.”

Sigmund Freud

Question for Today:                                                               

 

Where do you turn when you are your own "people, places and things"?

 

from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Day 26)