spaced out.
I felt so many forms of relapses today, I am just spaced out by the time I am penning this... today seem a funny end to the week, being hit by so many negatives it makes anything else a positive...
I woke, feeling the relapse of the early morning grouchiness... the type that used to make me snarl at whoever wakes me, snarl at whoever disrupts my schedule for the day. It was with great effort that I pulled on a smile to leave my room. I woke to such surliness I wondered why my toothpaste did not taste sour. Or how I did not bite it in two.
I drove, feeling the relapse of recklessness.... the type that nearly got me killed in Perth, the type that causes a primal rage in me when I see any who obstruct my path, or cause me to slow down. The sheer addiction for speed adrenaline that clipped my wings came back like some undiscovered hook in the flesh... that tore at my nerves, to urge me to negotiate crazy turns at 100+.. and accelerate when I bend. I left home at 9 55. I reached the Law car park at 10 05.
I walked, feeling the relapse of fear replace my relapse of recklessness... the type that grips me at the core of my soul, the fear that I would try to deny. I realise my baggy linen trousers was lined with sweat. While I had sped and lapped up the adrenaline that numbed my mind, it clearly did not forget how I nearly got my family killed. It was the same speed, the same recklessness, the same unquenchable desire to outstripe the guy in front. Yes, I do have a high tolerance for negotiating speed. But I know I cheated death once. Will there be a second time? My mortality and stupidity hit me like rocks as I stepped out of the car. It just occured to me what an idiot I was, to rush like that... but at the wheel... when u step on the accelerator.... things seem different...sigh.
At the MC room, we put up our best semblence of work. It was a fruitful event tho, and I manage to get 50 from a call. Meagre, but it adds up I guess. As I worked, I felt a relapse of another kind... the hollowness that rings within me, that beckons me to pile more work on... The call and pull of workaholism, the thing that drives me from friends in the name of work... I fought and won... I rather be inefficient for now, that to return to days as an efficient machine...
Whilst my mind did battle with old habits, relapse of the heart struck. It was a slow blow, quiet like a snake, slowly curling around me, enveloping me... A visual mosiac of past images swing past the mind's eye like a light show... drilling at the sub-conscious. As I departed from law, the emotional stabs made me burn, made me crazed at the wheel, made me deadened to the feelings of those around. A relapse of heart-rot, of brain-bane... when the essence of it all I boiled and reboiled... I was in turmoil. I sent a congratulatory note, yet I believe that will be the last of its kind ever. Logic says fuck it.... but brain-bane ate logic for lunch, and heart-rot made it all soft and squishy...
As I reel from the twin attacks whilst waiting for dad to appear, relapse of the cup happened. I feel the craving of the wine and cup, the draw of the intoxicants to lubricate and burn my innards. The weakest of the relapse yet the one I had most succumbed to, I agonized over my decision to cancel the wala's session... the relapse of alcohophilia is usually the result of other relapses... Bah.
I resisted all forms of relapse today, and the resistance found me worn and tired. My eyes were reddish and tearing, my mind a weary haze. everything grey and shroud in mist as the victory is celebrated with shallow graves.
Lost, in space.
I woke, feeling the relapse of the early morning grouchiness... the type that used to make me snarl at whoever wakes me, snarl at whoever disrupts my schedule for the day. It was with great effort that I pulled on a smile to leave my room. I woke to such surliness I wondered why my toothpaste did not taste sour. Or how I did not bite it in two.
I drove, feeling the relapse of recklessness.... the type that nearly got me killed in Perth, the type that causes a primal rage in me when I see any who obstruct my path, or cause me to slow down. The sheer addiction for speed adrenaline that clipped my wings came back like some undiscovered hook in the flesh... that tore at my nerves, to urge me to negotiate crazy turns at 100+.. and accelerate when I bend. I left home at 9 55. I reached the Law car park at 10 05.
I walked, feeling the relapse of fear replace my relapse of recklessness... the type that grips me at the core of my soul, the fear that I would try to deny. I realise my baggy linen trousers was lined with sweat. While I had sped and lapped up the adrenaline that numbed my mind, it clearly did not forget how I nearly got my family killed. It was the same speed, the same recklessness, the same unquenchable desire to outstripe the guy in front. Yes, I do have a high tolerance for negotiating speed. But I know I cheated death once. Will there be a second time? My mortality and stupidity hit me like rocks as I stepped out of the car. It just occured to me what an idiot I was, to rush like that... but at the wheel... when u step on the accelerator.... things seem different...sigh.
At the MC room, we put up our best semblence of work. It was a fruitful event tho, and I manage to get 50 from a call. Meagre, but it adds up I guess. As I worked, I felt a relapse of another kind... the hollowness that rings within me, that beckons me to pile more work on... The call and pull of workaholism, the thing that drives me from friends in the name of work... I fought and won... I rather be inefficient for now, that to return to days as an efficient machine...
Whilst my mind did battle with old habits, relapse of the heart struck. It was a slow blow, quiet like a snake, slowly curling around me, enveloping me... A visual mosiac of past images swing past the mind's eye like a light show... drilling at the sub-conscious. As I departed from law, the emotional stabs made me burn, made me crazed at the wheel, made me deadened to the feelings of those around. A relapse of heart-rot, of brain-bane... when the essence of it all I boiled and reboiled... I was in turmoil. I sent a congratulatory note, yet I believe that will be the last of its kind ever. Logic says fuck it.... but brain-bane ate logic for lunch, and heart-rot made it all soft and squishy...
As I reel from the twin attacks whilst waiting for dad to appear, relapse of the cup happened. I feel the craving of the wine and cup, the draw of the intoxicants to lubricate and burn my innards. The weakest of the relapse yet the one I had most succumbed to, I agonized over my decision to cancel the wala's session... the relapse of alcohophilia is usually the result of other relapses... Bah.
I resisted all forms of relapse today, and the resistance found me worn and tired. My eyes were reddish and tearing, my mind a weary haze. everything grey and shroud in mist as the victory is celebrated with shallow graves.
Lost, in space.
posted by Zachary Shim | 8:49 pm
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