So I'm sitting down to do 
And as I'm getting out the bottle I'm thinking, hey, wouldn't it be cool if I took a picture of the scotch, and turned it into a nice #monomad to add to the freewrite/monomad challenge combo I'm about to create.
Only the good stuff for me.
And then suddenly it's this whole photoshoot of scotch and glass and oh yeah, the fruit flies. They love scotch. Sometimes I give them a little bit in a glass of their own. They just die in it, though. Such is life.
Such was my life, back in my party days when I drank and drank and drank and drank as if it was gasoline in the tank and it would get me somewhere. Sometimes it did. Most times it just got me a fun ride back to the shit I was drinking to get away from in the first place.
So now I just buy the really expensive stuff and sip at it. Alone. In my apartment. Keeps me from drinking too much. Keeps me from flipping on that switch inside me that says HELL YEAH GUYS LET'S DRINK 'TIL THE BARS CLOSE AND THEN GO HOME AND TAKE ACID!!!
Damn. That sounds like fun. Wanna come over?
No?
Anyway, back on the topic of free writes let's talk about freedom and my quest to find it inside myself. I've started seeing a new therapist who helps me accept the reality of all the trauma I experienced as a child that led to all the trauma I experienced as an adult that led me to drink and drink and drink and drink and drink like like it was gas in the tank and it was gonna get me somewhere and wait a minute...
Have you been paying attention?
Were you daydreaming again, Anna?
I used to get in trouble for daydreaming in elementary school. Shamed, really.
"What do you think, Anna... Anna? Are you paying attention?"
"Huh? Oh... sorry."
Whole class laughs.
Fuck those teachers. I daydreamed because it was a safe space. I needed safe spaces back then.
I still do.
But I finally learned how to find them on my own instead of through a lifetime of booze and bogus relationships that were really just me trying to resolve my relationship with my parents. Too bad it took a plague and the whole world falling into the shitpit (how nice that spellcheck agrees with me that that's a word) for me to stop and see what I needed to do to take care of myself. I think I would have made it here eventually, though. But the year plus of semi-solitary confinement helped.
Even though the external world still looks to be falling apart on itself it looks like I'm doing some good internal reconstruction after the demolition of the old worldview I inherited from a crazy woman and a terrified man.
And with this guy in my life, what could possibly go wrong from here on out?
This concludes my freewrite and my entry to the #monomad challenge, held daily in the Black and White Community.
Give it a try.
Cheers.
