Saturday, 17 October 2015

Drinking Out Loud

Forever too drunk to function

It’s sad that in this day and age, we pour our hearts out to everyone who has a wifi connection, but can’t tell people how we really feel to their face.

I came to this realisation when my housemates and I had a few friends over recently. We’re students and therefore poor, so it was nothing too rowdy; pizza hut, lots of vodka and playing drunk Twister in our pyjamas, which I believe is what the kids call ‘standard.’

It got to that time of the night when most of us were too drunk to function, let alone manoeuvre a drinking game. So, in the want of nothing better to do, we had some lovely heart to hearts that I’ll pretend to forget out of embarrassment, but really remember every word of, and that’s the sad thing, because apparently we need to be comfortably inebriated to tell the truth.

It’s sad that I had to be drunk to hug it out with my girlfriends, to tell each other that we’re all beautiful in our own way, and could do so much better than that guy. It’s sad that I had to be drunk to lose all my inhibitions and dance around my kitchen like no one was watching (which my neighbours probably were, sorry.) It’s sad that I had to be drunk to finally tell the good-looking-but-bad-news-guy-whose-name-will-not-be-mentioned that he was treating me like shit, and that was not okay. It’s sad that I had to be drunk to thank my best friend for always being there for me, and to tell them that they’re one of the most important people in my small, made-up-of- 50%- vodka world. It's all pretty sad, but that doesn't mean I'm not glad I said the whole truth and nothing but the truth. 

After that drunken weight has been lifted off of my shoulders, I’d like to remain optimistic. I’d love to say that we should start sharing our feelings and telling our loved ones how much they mean to us far more often than we do. I could bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles, but the logistics of that are impossible and also potentially messy, so I won’t.

So I write this as an ode to all the things I won’t say out loud sober, because everything I do say is brutally, scathingly, unashamedly honest. But until I can say it to your face, I guess I’ll just have to blame it on the alcohol. 

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