tonight i am a stallion whose stream is a mixture of bacardi, chardonnay, hennessey and steak oil.
as i listen to the steady pouring of my stream to oblivion, i suddenly miss my drinking buddies in the philippines. my orgmates, my college batchmates, my former roommates, my blogmates (rens, moses, aaron, jhed l.a., shari, joe and others). this is the first time i’ve had the warmth of alcohol caress my throat since i came to this country of extreme diversities.
i hate how my father turned out as a bank of great stories. he had his ample share of stories from his early life to his adventurous adolescent life to his heroic military life. (i will share some of those with you sometime.) he is the type of storyteller who not just takes you to his past, but shows you and makes you feel what happens to him and his society back then. i find it inspiring to listen to his stories. he is such an individual blessed with the power to cast a disillusioned charm to make you forget his shortcomings.
i’d love to caress this warm feeling haunting my heart tonight. it helps to keep me sober despite the floating feeling of oblivion dominating my consciousness.