Bleary. I stare out bleary. That's the word. It's the time of the night when the alcohol makes your tongue numb and when beer just tastes cold. The flavor has been taken away by the need to drink away everything until you reach the stage when you can barely stand. Tomorrow, all my problems will still be here. But tonight, my hands are coated with paint and tiki cups are filled with Jack Daniels and I'm drinking the last of the beer. One night, I got so drunk I couldn't even walk, so I crawled down to the original in the strip and sat in a table by myself and ate chili and sandwiches until I could think. I knew I had to be home, I knew what I had to face. But I didn't want to die. So I just kept eating sandwiches, so I could drive where I didn't want to go. But I had to go and I doubt anyone noticed me crawling down the dark sidewalks, eyes bleary. Wondering why life couldn't be the way I wanted and drinking until I couldn't remember who I was. Smoking until the pain in my body and head goes away and passing out for four hours so I can lead another day. I should have just skipped that restaurant and drove. It would have all worked out better.

Photo - N
Words - S