Tuesday, 9 September 2014

At least Alcohol can't speak!


After a weekend, which has involved no DJing apart fom doing my Summer Promo Part 2 - which is in essence just Part 1 in fact (!), and has involved two consecutive nights of heading down to Folkestone's Cattle Market, I mean the Priz, or Indigo, or Onyx, or whatever its called this month - after getting trollied - without any expectation of that happening - I cannot help but have an ever bigger thought of emptiness - similar I would presume to how those rockers would feel after having one of their 'Lost Weekends' in the late 70s. 
 
Lost Weekends. Yep, that's how they seem to feel to me right now - you can do so much over those two Sabbathical days, but they always tend to end up in a debauchery of J√°ger and Sambuca, with a healthy (or unhealthy) dosage of Vodka.  What is it about our mentality as a people that after a heavy week of work, that our only response to it all is to drink to get drunk. To forget about the stresses of the past week - apart from as my mother keeps on telling me before and after an heavy night, it will catch up with you in the end.
 
There has been a lot of media coverage over the past five years - probably since the financial crisis of 2008 - about how we as a country seem hellbent on drinking ourselves to death - and its does make me wonder whether the stresses of work, family life and finances - particularly when people are still after so long, needing to pull back the purse strings to - in more and more cases, just to survive. The amount of children who are living below the poverty line in this country is shameful on a society where people are told to look after number one - no such thing as Dave's Big Society anymore. Each to their own.
 
I go home after a long day at work, and all I want to do is cry my eyes, because in my eyes - there is no one for me to turn to. Now in the cold light of day I know that is a load of old pap - but when you're that low, dejected and helpless - all semblance of reality falls by the wayside.  There are people there for me I know, but when you are so low, that you actually don't want to have to venture out and speak to anyone - nightmares take on a new meaning.
 
B x

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