A Happy Hour Hero?
Ya know what I told myself?
It’s really kinda hard to pin-point where
exactly I should begin in this here poem. For from a psychological
type of perspective, it’s a tad bit difficult to really understand
how exactly the problem
began in the first place. I mean I did have quite a drinking field day
when I lived in Statesboro. I basically had a weekend that
lasted a year and a half.
But I think that the problem, as in the problem of
my current situation, may not, altogether, really stem
it’s something deeper. BUT WHAT?
May just be more a introspective related
Ya see, over the past couple of years
I have become more indulged in solitude
and have went a lot deeper into
myself. And found someone that I didn’t even konw
was there. But it was really just the unfolding of my
And I found out how much you really learn about
when you spend much of your time in solitary
confinement. You just start thinking.
And after awhile…
you begin to go a little bit crazy.
You start to think of the most far out shit.
But you really and truly begin to KNOW YOURSELF.
And then you begin to think that may this is all just
That nothing is real
we are just imaginations of ourselves.
And even though people think that you are crazy
you always have this one TRUE voice in the back of
that makes you begin to wonder
that it may just be
they who are crazy.
And you begin to run away from that rodeo clown
and realize that ,
you may be in this world,
but you are not,
of this world.
That’s what solitude did for me. And during my year
complete solitude, I began to express many of my
thoughts onto paper. And I used to go
to Starbucks everyday. I’d read alot of books
and I’d write alot of poems. And during that time
I never really drank alot.
But then I began my new job. And don’t get me wrong,
I love my job as a server. But I just work so much.
And when I’m not at work…
I’m at school.
I never have time to myself anymore.
After work…when I go to Wagers And have:
or…you get the drift.
But the best part about it is just sitting at the bar
listening to music
And it may be weird, but I find that other people who sit at the
bar by themselves are usually the most interesting people.
If ever I do talk to someone in there, it is someone like that.
But the thing was, I was drinking everytime day that I worked. Which is
almost everyday. And everynight was just like a countdown
to that first drink.
But of all nights, I just so happened to be off for New Years Eve. And I stayed
sober that night. But everyoneelse was drunk and so much drama began to unfold. People began to get mad and emotional. They were sooo…drunk
and things began to get really nast. And being sober…it was
kinda weird seeing everyone like that. It made me not want to
So I made a New Years Resolution there that night
that I would stop drinking.
And it worked out for awhile. But then it hit me again.
Not just the craving for alcohol, but the craving for solitude.
My nights after work at Wagers was the only free time
that I had.
So I began going back. And when I was sitting there again that night
for the first time in almost a month, I heard someone to the right of me
express to someoneelse that age old saying:
“A drunk man’s words
are a true mans words.”
Ya see, I had read about that theory before.
That alcohol, will in fact, bring out your true
personality. Cuz’ ya see it’s all a defense
mechanism. People hide their ”true selves” for the
sake of not sounding crazy. As if they’re trying
to uphold some kind of image.
when they’re drunk they let loose and no longer
have an image to uphold.
And I thought that maybe that’s what it is with all the
writers throughout time, when it came to drinking.
Maybe it helped those true thoughts sitting in
the back of their heads drip like icecickles that are basking
in the warm hot sun of the desert.
And maybe that’s why seeing other people drunk
sadens me sometimes. Perhaps it is, in fact, their “true selves”
that saddens me.
So I decided to keep drinking at Wagers after work. Afterall, its the only time I ever have to myself.
And I don’t really drink to get “FUCKED UP!” like most people.
I just drink to chill.
And catch up on my thoughts.
Tis’ like Jim Morrison once wrote:
“I drink so that I can
Forgive me Lord.
For I know what I do.
I just wanna hear the last poem
of the last poet.”
It brings out my true words.
Every night when I get off work.
That drive to the bar is like my 40 oz’s to Freedom!
And it brings out my words. And maybe one day
my story will finally be told.
And like David Bowie suggested:
All be heroes.
As Tupac thought:
Maybe my words will not directly
CHANGE THE WORLD!
But I do guarantee
that they will spark the brain
I am a Happy Hour Hero?
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