Memoriam … AGAIN?!?

Memoriam

This is the first hour of the show streamcast on November 19th, of this year 2017. Box of Chocolates is a two hour show and on this Sunday, I offered up a sonic memoriam for the recently departed. Malcolm Young principal song architect and rhythm guitarist of AC/DC had exited this physical manifestation of existence just the day before. The second hour was a fumble of a dumpster fire, but more on that in the next post.

And now to continue on with the ramble that I have been keeping up. Because, well when no one is looking, bug out like a freak.

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Memoriam

I’m pulling myself from the point here, so I’m going to try to wrangle myself back on track. Larger point: there are addicts; like myself, who are born addicts, the substance abuse is really just an attempt at applying a heavy chemical salve on a (essentially) spiritual problem.

Memoriam

Smaller point: the active participation of the individual in the ritual of “the party” is; although it seems an innocent action of the kettle whistle, is really more not knowing how to enjoy and appreciate the free time of the self.

Memoriam

The discomfort of interaction without the false-freedom brought by the cloud of inebriation. Interesting thing about inebriation, and once again this is only speaking for myself, but. It does NOT alleviate responsibility. Many have, and will continue to, use it as some perfectly understandable justification for appalling behavior, but here is (to me) the truth about the matter. Even in moments where I was blacked out, and would have much difficulty remembering the details of the events at a later time when I was “sobered” up.

Memoriam

In that moment of the brain swimming in alcohol, I always knew the difference between right and wrong, or a better choice and a worse one. However, with the alcohol coursing through my veins (quite literally) in ratios far exceeding the legal definitions of alcohol intoxication. In those very moments, I simply did not give a fuck. At all. None whatsoever.

Memoriam

I have remembered things weeks after the fact, as though they were crystal clear memories from a few hours past, and could recall the deep emotional apathy in those moments. The utter and complete selfishness. I can also, quite honestly, say that in those moments despite me making those absurdly abhorrent decisions all on my own.

Memoriam

There were moments in the madness when it didn’t feel like I was making those decisions at all. What felt like “me” was the one in the conversation arguing AGAINST the stupidity.