Dear Alcohol,
As you know, you and I have experienced a lengthy, love/hate, relationship. When our times are good, they are spectacular, but when our times get rough, I sometimes wish that we had never met at all.
So far, in my 26 years of life, the good times have outweighed the bad times, but let me be honest alcohol, the negative is catching up like a boogey man in a horror movie.
Where should I begin? To get it all out in the open, I grew up with, and lived most of my life with, a parent who struggled with your powerful grip. My earliest memories include those of confusion and misunderstanding about your relationships with those who were, and still are, very close to me, and of whom I love very much. As I look back, I remember the thickness of the cloud of smoke that surrounded our living room and burned my eyes. I probably needed a "fresh air" break every 30 minutes, just as much as my Dad needed me to reload his Embassy Superior Milds every 30 minutes to clear my head. I still marvel at how I did not end up a smoker.
As for my history with you alcohol, we never really clicked until I was about 19 years old. I remember my Dad giving my siblings and i sips of his beer as we were growing up and thinking, "holy crap, this stuff is terrible". I can't remember when I made the decision that the payoff of the beer buzz, was worth the choking down of the stuff, to get it.
Alcohol, you know as well as I do, that we really started developing our relationship when I entered my first semester of school at the University of Nairobi. We were together pretty much 4 or 5 days per week. Most of our days were spent in the company of some amazing individuals of whom I still keep contact with, and mean the world to me.
By this era in our lives, we were at a time and place where we didn't know what we wanted to do with our futures. At the time, we pretty much decided that partying and drinking were far more entertaining than dealing with responsibility, so we continued our experimentation. We spent more time perfecting our "bottoms up" technique and "kutwanga dry" skills, than studying, or attending class.
To this day, I still can not come up with the words to describe some of the odors and sounds that I had to endure on those extra early (11:30 AM) mornings in a room full of hangover, gaseous, 20 year old men. I must admit, the smell factor was exemplified exponentially by my own efforts and contributions, but not to take anything away from my partners, we all put forth quality performances, which in turn added to the potency, and intensity, of our man-symphony. Let me offer a tiny piece of advice, a combination of ‘Mtura ya man Njoro’ and ‘Macups aka Senator Keg” can make for a toxic concoction of flatulent nerve agent. We spent some of our best times together reminiscing about previous nights while breathing in this horrid man-wind.
It is because of you alcohol that I began loosing sight of my future. Alcohol, I have enjoyed our friendship for some years now but I believe that it’s about time we call it quits.
Don't get me wrong alcohol, there were times we have shared in the past that have been wonderful, but also times in the past that I wish never existed. You've been the invoker of great stories, the provocation for much laughter, and the needed companion when I just didn't know what to do with the extra money in my pockets. It is clear to me that you are a force that I will continue to have to monitor for the remainder of my days here on Earth.
Adios old friend.
Regards,
Morpheus
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