21 April 2012

The alcohol had opened his eyes but clouded his vision. He saw the world as a strange new reality, like when a new born opens it's eyes for the first time. Like the infant; he struggled to find sense in anything except a bottle. He found walking far more challenging than we find algebraic equations on a Monday morning. He was scared too, like a baby. He couldn't get home. He couldn't remember how.

He was drunk.

He was lost.

shirorabbitAlcoholic • Opuss № I