are we clear now?

Clarity under intoxication

I'm still trying to articulate my thoughts on that. I've been saying it quite often these past few weeks, without really explaining what I mean; all of which has left some people wondering if I've got full control of my mental faculties. More so when I'm trying to express it over a drink, or six.

Here goes. First the disclaimer; this epiphany-like condition only applies now; previous bouts (read: ten years ago) were purely an exercise in futility in trying to shove everything in my head down the drain. Needless to say, the only thing that went down the drain was the contents of my abused guts. Onwards to 2009 (hope this isn't the start of a ten-year cycle).

I seriously reckon over-thinking is a disorder. I mean, it just sends you (me) down this downhill slope right into Despair Zone. Myriad scenarios, situation, outcomes and permutations race around my brain, in some damaging Brownian motion. Then wham! bam! The collision. And the realisation that everything will end in abject failure. Which is not pleasant, in whatever manner imaginable.

But with fermented rye and barley and wheat and God knows whatever else is put in liquor, the fog parts, to reveal the dark clouds. Therein lies the clarity. No what-ifs, no questions up in the air, no will-it-work-outs helter-skeltering about in this thick-skull. And for that moment in comforting intoxication, I know everything will come to naught. No buts, no maybes, just a stake-driven Nyet.

After all, what can be more welcome than the absolute truth, boiled in whiskey and garnished with ginger ale?

And the next morning, when everything is one smorgasbord of a mess, the carousel starts again.

Clarity under intoxication - now do you get it?