I’m jotting this down with a terrible hangover, a thorough headache, one that won’t be going anytime soon.
Last night and other nights have been on wild. I’ve been drinking like fish for the past four days straight. At this point, I’m starting to fill the discomfort and misery I’ve put my liver through.
My other body parts are soon joining in on the rebellion against this mistreatment I’ve made them go through. It’s crazy.
I won’t be drinking ever again, it’s probably the 20th time I’ve said it. I’m not alone, it’s the anthem of the youths that wake up with a deadly hangover after a wild night. Much as it may sound like a joke, indeed it is.
I and my other counterparts that throw this phase in our faces and social media quite often won’t be quitting soon. The brown bottle is our drug, we’ve been hypnotized. Driven by the “You Only Live Once”, we’ve found it hard to stop sipping. It’s a wild card we’re always picking.
Times come and the inner voice in you really screams at you, “You need to stop drinking like tomorrow won’t have a sunrise”, but there’s another voice strongly advocating that you “eat your money”. The urge to be happy, the love for a height keeps coming by when you’re lazy, happy, depressed, sad or even just for no good reason, a brown bottle will do. It’s our Heroine, admittedly!
Personally, I’ve tried to quit, struggled to resign from the wild escapades but it’s hard. I admit it, I need Divine intervention on this one. I fucking need help but not In a rush to get it. Jude (he’s my friend) once said; “Let me drink right now, in the future I’ll spend the rest of my life with those diseases that may come but I’m not about to stop”, we laughed out so hard and ordered for another beer and more.
“I’ve quit Alcohol” says some hangover-ed lad ordering for another beer!
Youth is the best time to be rich, and the best time to be poor. ~ Euripides