Hi Everyone. My name is _______. And I'm an Alcoholic.

Are we surprised? Nah, not really. I've always been upfront about my alcoholism. And I've always known that its not that big of a problem. (awaits the groans and moaning to stop) I've seen alcoholism at work, I know its gory details and the wrath it can inflict. I've personally been through it. So before you judge ... well, just don't. Okay?

So what brings this up? Why is it sooo important that I feel I must share it with the world? Simple. I've been drunk for a week. Not literally to the point where I'm drunk again five minutes after I wake up. But in the sense that its all I do in the evenings. After work, I go rollerblade, maybe I'll have something to eat, then its off to the bar. And this has been going on for week. Ever since I got back from Europe.

Its actually been exactly a week since I got back. And due to extreme Jet Lag, I crashed out at 6pm last wednesday even though I really wanted to go out (just wanted to see my crush again since I haven't seen him for three weeks. sad, ain't it?). But I did go out again on thurs, to see friends and converse about my trip. But I ended up getting drunk. Friday, got drunk. Sat, got drunk. Sun, got drunk. Monday, got drunk. Yesterday, got drunk. Today, will probably get drunk. Now, I don't know about you, but I see a pattern forming here.

Now, since my parents were alcoholics, and my older siblings ... being a full fledge alkie fuggin scares me. To have dependence on an intoxicating liquid, to me frankly, is sad. And I see that I'm starting to develope that dependency. Fug, screw 'developing', for its already there. But Why? Simply because of my social ineptness. Lets face, its easier to talk to the hot guy at the other end of the bar after a chug of confidence juice. And, not only am I socially inept, but I'm also just shy and very unassuming (quoting someone else on that one). And therefore, having a few drinks actually makes me socialable and conversive.

And now to the main point. Why? What makes alcohol significant to me? Why do I need it to become a social person? Well, I hate the answer, but its true. My self image is poor. My self-confidence is low. I feel that there is no one out there who knows me or even wants to get to know me and blah blah blah blah blah. Lets face it, its the usual self-depricating tapes that play in our heads when we're lonely. And for the most part thats it. I'm just lonely. I have bar friends, bar acquiantances. A night at the bar is definately alot better than sitting at home waiting for a dead phone to ring. And even if its just bar friends, thats better than no friends.

So hello everyone. My name is _________, and I'm an alcoholic.

Just so you know.

Well, I don't know about you ... but that last post has been the attention getter for far too long. And also, as serious as it is ... is also poorly written. I could have definately have done better with the writing on that lil reveal.

And also, since I just revealed that my stories are my own personal reveals (number one rule of all writing is "write what you know"), I feel I should at least make it known that I'm not in search of sympathy or pity. Keep it, it has no value for me. The reason I write is for the most part, just to get it off my chest. I say it cause I need to say it. It helps me to say it. And also, I feel that by expressing my own stories, it may help someone else in their own struggles.

Ever since the last story has happened, I've grown alot. That last reveal took place a decade ago. Obviously I'm still here. I will always be here, just so you know.

And I think thats all I need to say about that.

D's Choice

He sits alone at the foot of an empty bed in an empty room. Motionless. Expressionless. One is consumed at the empty abyss within his eyes. His packed school bag lies at his feet. He is fully dressed to face yet another exhausting day of school, to face yet another exhausting day of life. He's tired of pretending to be okay.

A long kitchen knife rests pointed towards his gutt. And still he sits like an empty shell.

A car horn honks once. Twice. And a longated third time stressing a rush. He hears it faintly even though it echoes from the front carport.

He finally looks up at himself in the wall length mirror before him. And standing behind him is his little sister. A lonely tears rolls down his cheek. He knows she's not really behind him. He saw her walk out the front door that morning, just a moments ago with his mother. He wimpers and barely audible cry.

He's very tired and ready to sleep. And suddenly, she smiles.

Years of repressed pain finally spill out like opening a flooded damn. He can't control the tears and the pain escaping into empty air. An epiphany has just taken place. She is only 4 years old, and the first lesson as an older brother he will teach her is the pain of loss. But not only that. The ultimate realisation taking place is that when he is gone, the pain he lives with, the darkness that consumes his every day will pass on to her. This he cannot have.

Another car horn, even more longated than the last one.

He gathers himself, wipes the tears and runs up the basement stairwell and returns the missing knife back into the kitchen. No one even knew it was missing. He runs out the door, and to the parked car where his mother, younger sister, and younger brother await him. He climbs in the front seat knowing fully well neither with know what was about to happen.

YOUR SO SLOW. His mother barks. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE SO POKEY. I DONT KNOW WHY YOU KIDS ..... she goes as she usually does. He hears it all, soaks it all in knowing fully well it will be all he hears throughout the day.

He peers over his sholder and sees his younger brother nodding in the back seat of the car, head resting on the window as they pull away from the house. He looks at his lil sis, innocently sipping away at her juice box. She sees him, and smiles.

He knows what he must do. She must never doubt love.

Paris, France ... and I do nothing

I sit here in Paris France, 11:10 in the evening, Normally one would be getting ready or already hailing a cab to go to a club or whatever. As a gay man from Canada, and my heart was in it earlier, one would think I'd definately be trying to hit up the gay clubs of good ol' Paris. But no, not me. Not this time. Kind of a waste when you realise that I'm leaving tomorrow back to Germany and Paris will no longer be in arms length. And considering my financial situations and personal spending habits, Paris may never be in arms length ever again. So why aren't I trying my best in getting to the gay clubs and trying to experience gay cultcha in a foriegn land?

Well, I'm tired. As a chaperone I have to "set an example" for the younglings that are on the trip with me. And since this is supposed to be a church group, me going to a gay club will most likely BLOW their mind. But is that really the case. No. Me going to clubs alone ... well theirs just something sad in that. Something that I personally can't evercome at this moment. For me, it takes time to rid myself of self-pity. Unfortunately time is nothing I have.

But the main reason. My mind has been preoccupied with something else. Something else that takes me away from the problems or everyday situations that one goes through, well, everyday. And this something is actually a someone. Total infatuation with someone who is the sexiest, most confident, most handsome man to ever walk this earth. No one has ever been on my mind like he has. There has been no one that I ever thought of in such away in regards to possibilities of the future. And for a long time I thought that such a feeling would never exist for me. I'm glad to say that I was wrong.

And I keep thinking about him too. His smile that just sucks you right in. His sexy voice. His consistently well maintained haircut. His husky body weight when he presses up against me. His eyes and the way they sparkle (okay, now that one was just cliched) when I look into them. And the way his smiles gets bigger when he catches me staring at him, or so it seems.

Here I sit in the most beautiful city in the world (up for debate), and I find myself thinking about the most beautiful man in the world (never up for debate).

Is this what love is? Is this what an infatuation is? This is a first for me so I can't tell. As many of my readers may know (okay, so I may not have that many, but I have to boost my ego somehow), I usually write about depressing, serious shit.

Well, whatever this is, I'm glad I'm feeling it. Even if I don't know whether or not we'll be together.

Greetings from Switzerland

well, here I am ... bored beleive it or not. Nothing to do ... and really dont want to spend any money. Its fucking expensive here ... totally did not expect that. Although I should have I suppose. Plus, theres just a different attitude in the air. All dealing with kids in my tour group who were drinking and yadda yadda yadda. Really dont want to get into it at this moment. Maybe I will another time, who knows.

But, on the positive side. My creative side is totally being fed here. I think Ill get into photography or something. Awesome view no matter where we go. Especially on the roof top of the hotel Im in right now. But frankly, I just wish all my pics werent taken with a disposable camera. And I HOPE some of them turn out too ... the lighting was a little iffy. But we will see.

I will get back to this blog whenm I get home after the 24th this month. Have a good one all of you. PEACE.

Venice, Italy

So here I am in Venice Italy. And let me tell you ...

Well, I dont know what to tell you. This trip has literally been a crash course in the many places weve been to already. Dusseldorf, Tonz, Frankfurt, Cologne: all of which are in Germany. And now here in Venice. And it will only be today, which has officically ended. But oh well, cause Im here in Europe. Ever since I was kicked off the high school trip to Europe, Ive been praying to come here. And now, 7 years laters, here I am. If everything wasnt so fast paced, I could enjoy this experience more. And if I wasnt chaperoning at the same time, I could drink more too, lol. Oh well, what they dont know wont hurt me.

But, just dropping a line to all my readers, and I know I have some, YAY. Hope all is good with yall. Peace.

In Europe

Posting in Germany Today. Will be in Europe over the next two weeks. Iäll try to post while here ... but that will be hard. HAve a good one everyone.

Last Day: The Day Innocence Was Lost

"D ... its time to wake up."

"... D ..."

"...D. We need you to drive the truck."

My eyes finally open to who is waking me. It was my aunt. I had fallen asleep on the living room couch as I would normally do when my parents had gone out the night before. Normally I would hear them walk in the front door and at their best attempt while durnk, quietly stagger up the stairs to their bedroom. But last night, I heard nothing.

I smell something. So strong it reaches my stomache before I can fully awaken myself. Its not from my aunt who is still hovering over me. No. Instead this smell is familiar, and vast. It consumes the entire living room. Its source has been present for a while now. Its familiar, reminiscent. Its beer breath. Kind of sad when you realise that I'm only 12 years old and I can clearly recognize this smell. And I know its exact indication too. Beer breath in the living room means my father has made it to the bedroom and has fallen asleep on the couch next to me.

I finally sit up and gather my sense just as my aunt is about to wake away. And sure enough, the loud snores of my father releasing the vomit induing aroma of beer breath into the air proves me right. All familiar, except my aunt is here. Thats new. She's never here.

"Get up" she says, "we need you to drive the truck."

I look around again, soaking up the scenario I've awoken into in an attempt to understand what's going on. The sun has just risen over the mountian. "It's about 7 in the morning I think to myself." I yawn and get a biff whiff of stale beer breath; its not as vomit inducing as it first was. I see that the TV's off, unusual since I was the last of the kids to fall asleep and it was on then. there's and odd aura lingering in the air, something doesn't feel right. I see my aunt in what looks like tip toeing out the living and cautiously walk across the kitchen and down the stairs.

"Where's my mom?" I'm finally awake to speak. I follow her.

"She's in the bathroom downstairs. Wheres your brother and sister?"

"Asleep upstairs."

Thinking aloud I ask "Drive the truck to where?"

"To my house." Thats odd, she's never really enjoyed me and my bother at her house; not because she didn't like us but because when we would visit we'd leave the biggest mess possible and simply leave. Hence she would avoid when ever possible.

I follow her down the stairs as she disappears behind a door corner. I see the front door is wide open. The sun faintly but surely reflects its rays off the truck that I'm supposed to drive. Driving at 7 in the morning; been able to drive for 4 years now, but I've never had to drive in the morning.

I make my way down the short flight of stairs and peer around the corner which my aunt had just disappeared from. I hear her speak softly as I see my mom for the first time that morning. "D's awake."

"Okay," my mom sobs as she wipes the blood from her face.

A moment of eternal time consumes me whole. I don't know what to do or what to say. So I do nothing. I say nothing. Instead I watch and listen.

My mom wipes the tears from her eyes which also wipes away more blood. "Your coming to my place," My aunt instructs her.

"What about my truck," my mom asks.

"D's going to drive it."

"Ok."

Somehow, in this eternal time I'm consumed in, my younger brother and sister make their way from the beds, through the beer breathed consumed room, out the front door without me noticing. But they didn't see the blood on my mom. And no would, noe but me and my aunt; for that I'm glad. My mom and younger siblsings packed in with my aunt and they were off driving down the drive-way when I pulled myself out of the shock. And I had followed alone; fully realising that we had just left my father alone on the couch in a vast, now empty home ... house.

And I Sit In Darkness

I remember when during my first year college, when my roommate would be gone for the vening, I would turn off all electronics in the house off. And I mean everything. The TV, the stereo, all lights; and I would just sit in the living in complete silence and darkness. Just me alone and technologically free. Well ... almost technologically free. Most times I would turn on the electric fire place. A nice warm blaze at the flick of a switch. There was just something serene about just being in the moment, even if nothing was happening in that particular moment. Sometimes I would try to block out every comfort one could have and I would lie on the floor instead of on the couch. I would stare at the ceiling and try to reach a sense of enlightenment. But whatever I would do. I would be at peace. Just me and the calm of nothingness.


Too bad I live in a bigger city now. Cause even if I turn everything off in my apartment and even attempt to recreate the fire place with numerous candles, ... there will always be the hussle and bussle of regular downtown city life. There will always be sirens and traffic and people creeping through the window cracks to ensure the calm of nothingness ceases to exist.

AND I'M BACK

So my regular readers, what few of them I may have ... have noticed that I have not posted anything in a long time. For me, thats a good thing cause that means I'm actually working instead of surfing the net.

Anyways, its not like shit hasn't been happening, on the contrary in fact. I actually had a breakdown .. thanks to a combination of my own issues (yes I have them, you may judge me now, I frankly don't give a fuck), stress from life and work, and the drugged drink that was meant for my roommate and not me. But I recoverd well from it.

And why haven't I posted, well my MAC *rolls eyes* is givin me probs. Please don't ask me to fix shit, and I can't. Mostly because I won't, I don't want too, I might fuck it up even more. So I dare not too and just get someone else to do. But nevertheless, when I wanted to post something, I just wrote it down in hopes that I can post it later. A lot of them I ended up throwing out ... who knew that I would actually start gettin pickey in regards to my posting. But truth be told, most of them were just repetitious. I want to say something once, and thats it.

But theres a few I saved and really want to share. .... AND I'm going to do with separate posts. too

For those still reading, thanks.