Today i browsed some pictures from local clubs, concerts and stuff… where ordinary people photograph themselves after drinking a million gallons of alcohol, screaming around in the crowd and then put it on the web for display.

Does it look appealing? No. I´ve watched myself on the same kind of pics from before, realizing that i look completly insane. When i look at that kind of pics of myself from way back nowadays, i feel like…. “who is that person, what is he DOING?” Shit, i hope i´ll never go back there. I hope my age nowadays makes excuse enough for me never having to wobble around in those environments again.

Ordinary girls and guys who usually look great in the day, turn into red-faced, screaming swollen Orches, where every photograph of them is completly dripping with sweat, drool, smells, and caveman-screams, givin the absolute promise of that the night will end up with unprotected stranger dick in stranger pussy. Or at least some vomiting, fights, crying, cheating and a whole palette of unintended self-abuse.

This is what alcohol does to the larger part of us. Not all of us, but way to many.

If you see a sober person in those pictures, her or she stands out like an illuminated stop-sign.

Shit, it´s so scary to watch. Especially thinking of that i used to be the leading silverback-ape, climbing around in that abusive mess in nights that went on to long.

I guess the youth needs it. But…why, really? Why is that culture never questioned?

And why are people passed 35 still at it? You know girls, a woman past thirty looks like a monster after six beers, two drinks and five tequilas. The face falls down and collapses a bit, the eyes lose their shine and focus, the skin gets faded. Same for men of course.

Add to this that your judgement goes out the window, your deepest desperate longings, wishes or flaws surfaces making you behave in a social manner that almost always hurt someone..and in all cases it will hurt yourself every single time.

Even if no cathastrophy occurs, you will be left in a dark solitude the day after, with silent rooms, anxiety and hangover. Maybe calling some friends to get the gossip, trying to make it feel better and make the night before more legit, but you know it always leaves you in a state where you know you have abused yourself.

No real love. No meaningful encounters, no intimate and meningful sex, no true emotions lived.

Just a destructive buzz injected for a night, to ease the dullnes of your life.

I just can´t believe that this serves a purpose more than keeping your concious numb, so you won´t have to feel or deal with what you really would have to do instead.

Alcohol may be the sadest element in society.

I used it, overused it a million times for twenty years and finally dropped it.

I could have continued, but my selfrespect grew so big that it wouldnt let me anymore. It would not let me participate in it anymore… and i´m so greatful. The feeling of making a descision of love and caring for yourself, overshadows every little illusion of any fast kicks it may have given.

Now it´s time to live a real life.