why can't we all just get along

My daily struggle with my own inadequacies has begun to take a toll on interpersonal relationships. I simply cannot bring myself to respect others without the prerequisite of respecting myself. The knowledge of my financial predicament, sealed by my petty and cheap request for cash from my ailing and loving parent burns in a low blue light at the base of my every move, sucking at my spine, sapping the will to live and love and write. Booze takes the edge off, but I have not and will not let it tether me with its chemical lure.

These few days without it have seen a fourfold increase in vocabulary, a reawakening of the synapses which now are building at quarter steam. Complex situational analyses once again are flourishing, but they lead to awkward silences and faintly strange looks during conversation, as I ramble on about my sudden discovery of the root of someone’s problem, at least as seen my perspective of information received and gaps filled in via educated guessing. Once I am again fluid, and have relegated the boozing to more random occasions, I trust that life will once again retain its hue of promise and opportunity.

The last year in Dago has been taunting me with its calm and orderliness. Money was readily available, running was creeping up to twenty miles a week, yoga was going well, and the blessed release of writing welcomed me back every night. Now, my plans for unemployment and a quick, cheap transfer to affordable digs dashed, accounts dried up, many grand in credit card debt, I look back on it with envy. May I not stumble and fall for too long.