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"SSC 19 – My timeless days"

I knew what I was. I had seen myself becoming it. Watched myself mutate, slowly, over time into what now stared back at me every time that I looked in the mirror. Why had I become it? Who or what was to blame for it? I could pass the buck, but that would be cowardice, and anyway, what would be the point? Who am I trying to impress? Sure as hell not myself. Every morning I wake up and before I’ve even brushed the debris of yesterdays food from my chins greasy stubble I find myself filled with the same self-loathing and inevitable disappointment of what I’ll do that day.

Well, I say morning, but I would be lying if I said that it was for sure. Not that it makes any difference to me anyway. If I could, I would spend an eternity asleep, dreaming, living my life in a place where I could never let anyone down and where anything is possible. Throughout the day I find myself constantly closing my eyes in an attempt to drift once more into my world of dreams, knowing that this is the only time that I can experience the pure bliss that other more “normal” people experience every day with their families.

I remember when I was younger, living at home, being woken each morning for school by my mother yelling up the stairs about how I was going to be late. I remember opening my eyes and having to squint because the light of the new day would seem so apparent. Well now when I wake and open my eyes, no longer am I blinded by the sunshine, but rather swamped by thicker darkness then before. Time has no meaning for me. It could be dusk, dawn or noon for all I know. I live in my own constant nuclear fog.

Each time I wake I’ll look around my apartment and still be amazed every time as to how such a cluttered room can appear so empty, so devoid of any signs of life, a barren war-zone in which I play both sides of the conflict.

In my dreams I surround myself with people. I know that they’re not real even as I dream them. That they’re just figments of my imagination, but I draw comfort from them and that makes both them and the experience real enough for me, real enough to keep me going for the promise of further dreams.

I have only one real friend in this world, but she’s also my greatest enemy. She’s sweet, doesn’t judge me and makes me feel special about myself, but then she’ll turn on me in a second and reduce me to a crying mess. I’m an adult, and yet on a daily basis I’ll find myself weeping, sobbing like a child in a crowded Supermarket that has lost its mother, and it’s all because of this, what makes me me, my one defining trait, my battle with alcohol.

Thanks people
I too thought the ending was a little sudden, but my brain had run out of stuff to splurge.

Cheers all

Well written, though the ending did seem to be a little sudden. It works well in that once we realise that he’s an alcoholic what went before makes more sense, but the last paragraph didn’t seem to quite say enough.

Write more, EB, you're really quite good at it.

Thought it was going to be some zombie story at first. Shame on you for it not being. :D

Really liked it, along with Ineedsleep's entry, my favourite so far.

Black Glove wrote:
> It seemed natural, which is a good sign.

Or a bad sign meaning I'm an alcoholic...

Ta, Sleepy. I 'got' to you. w00t

English_Bloke wrote:
> So...you liked it then?

Yes I did, very much.

> Edit:
>
> You do get that his other half is drink, right? :D

Of course.... not :(

I suppose you could read it either way. Couldn't you?

I felt a kind of empathy as I am currently dealing with an alcohol (no! not me :)) so took the best friend to be his partner. The 'being reduced to tears' bit got me. It would work also if another human was involved.

I like the way you conveyed the sense of an inner conflict towards the end there as well.

I thought I’d pick a nice cheery subject for a change

Ta

It's difficult to know what to say sometimes - but it is good, not necessarily the subject matter, but the flow of the voice. It seemed natural, which is a good sign.

Ahaha
:-)