Monday, August 10, 2015

Memories of Drunkenness


Alcohol takes me down.
It brings me up.
And gives me joy.
And makes me paranoid.


Wine is my curse.
Wine is my curse and my salvation.
Wine makes me feel depressed.
Wine makes me cry.


I want to kill myself in my sleep.
I want to kill myself without wanting to, without pain.
I want to kill myself because I can't help it.


This room looks scary, like the world inside of me.
I cry for help, no one listens.
The walls are bending, closing me in, walling me in.


I remember yesterday and I hurt and I bleed.
I remember yesterday and I lose my footing in drunkenness.
My whole life seeks to be bouncing on the trampoline of insanity.


Have I become an alcoholic out of necessity or stupidity?


My dreams are the only things that worth something, though they are in black and white.
My life is a farce, a zero, for whose ending I can't wait.
I'm trembling as I'm begging for death.


I have become a loner, absolutely.
I have become hot-headed, resolutely.
I can feel the injustice in my bones and I break down.
Which injustice though?


I walk every night.
I walk every night in rage.
I walk every night and plead for the morning not to come.
It always does.


I'm a good actor!
I handle my madness and my addiction with admirable skill.
No one gathers that I'm an alcoholic apart from myself.
No one pays attention to me apart from myself.


Does anyone, I wonder, hear me now as I fall with a bang?


Last night I smashed the side mirror of a car in a dark street.
I had nothing against it but…
Well, I saw it, I broke it.


Silence is bleeding.
It's bleeding words.
I want to speak, but have no voice.


The hatred is raging inside of me.
The hatred and the contempt.
For other people.
I want to kill someone but I can't.
I lack the strength.


I like this fall, this plunge into the darkness of insobriety.
I like this pain, the only thing that truly belongs to me.
I like the fact that I'm not me, because truthfully myself is someone that doesn't quite fill my eye.*


Mira… Christina… Mira… Christina…
Why have you abandoned me?
Why are you not here now that I need you?


I'm becoming more afraid of the darkness.
In the darkness my fears come to life.
My mistakes seem monstrous.
In the darkness… In the darkness I seek my shadow!


I sleep a little, I wake up a lot.
I don't live the days, I just go through them.
I'm afraid of dark places, I shiver in the light.


When was the last time that I got drunk with joy?
I miss it, I miss it all, all that I cannot have.


I saw you last night, I saw you with someone else.
You've moved on, even you have left me behind.
You placed a black veil over my soul.
I went and threw myself into the sea to drown.
And then I swam to the shore.
And then I came home and drowned myself in raki.
I've been filling my insides for hours, I've been emptying my being for hours.
And as usual, I've accomplished naught.


This fall suits me in the end.
And so does this madness.
This decadence suits me.
I try to convince myself.


I no longer speak with anyone.
I have nothing to say.
I can't stand them…
It's myself I cannot stand.
I haven't got anyone I can talk with.


I was laying in my bed crying, crying, crying.
I was laying in bed metaphorically slapping myself, hurting it.
I was laying in my bed screaming: Get up, get up, get up, but that I could not do.
My strengths had abandoned me for good.
As I did them.


Someone beat me up good last night.
I don't remember why.
I can only remember the bruises, because I see them.
A dark eye, swollen lips, hurt ribcage.
The remains of the fight.
Oh, yes, I also remember a promise I made:
"I will pay you back in kind," I said.
The only problem is that I don't know who it was.


I've started to confuse wakefulness with sleep.
I can no longer spot the distinction between them.
I spend days sleeping standing, and nights laying awake.
Do I see dreams? Or do they see me?


I want to hit rock bottom.
I want to hit rock bottom.
I want to hit rock bottom.
But is there a way back?


I will become a beggar for love.
I will become a beggar for mercy.
I will go to Christina and ask for help.
To ask for love.
I will go to Christina…


I will not go to Christina.
No, I won't go to her.
I do not deserve her sympathy.
I do not deserve her love.
I will save myself.
All by myself…


Little by little I drink less wine.
Little by little I consume less alcohol.
Little by little I diminish the darkness.
I tremble and yearn, I feel passion and fear.
Little by little…


I'm looking for a chance, something to lean on.
Something to lean on in order to rise again.
I'm sure that I can do it, but I cannot.
The body got used to something else.
I must tame it.


Sleepless nights, sleepy days.
But, at last, something seems to be changing.
My dreams have started becoming colorful again.
I'm on my way out, into the light.


Salvation will not be long now.
I know it, I can feel it.
Where shall I seek it though?
Where shall I find it?


I must kill solitude.
To kill it, I must.
I need friends, and lots of them - where are you Captain?
I need love.
To give and to receive.
I need to exit the highways of silence.
I need a cloud of joy to rain on me.
I need to become me again.
I need…
I need so much.
I need a life!
So long darkness.
I no longer fear you.
Farewell depression.
You'll no longer oppress my being.
Goodbye wine…
But, oh no, you I will not abandon. I love you so. But from now on you will not drink me, but I'll drink you, in moderation.
So long my goodbyes.
Welcome home new life…

* A Greek expression that I've decided to keep intact in this translation. Someone that doesn't fill your eye is someone that you don't think highly of.

This poem, if someone can call it so, is taken from a novel I've published in Greek seven years ago, and which I'm in the process of translating to English right now.

The image was taken from here.

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