1 of
another story

Stephen G (Lost Weekend)

Drink? You wanna have a drink with me? Nah, you don’t agree with me drinking do you?
So in the night it’s a drink
Shrinks me kidneys.
But in the morning it’s medicine
Blackens my liver. But what does it do to my head, to my mind?
Do you ever wake up? Scared in the middle of the night. So scared that the sweat is pouring out of you.
It elevates me. It lifts me up. Suddenly I’m above the ordinary.
No, not you.
I’m competent, supremely competent. Me.
With you it’s simple. Alarm clock goes off.
I could walk a tightrope over Niagara Falls
Open your eyes, brush your teeth.
I could be Van Gough painting pure sunlight.
Drink your coffee.
I could be Michelangelo, moulding the beard of Moses.
Read the paper. Simple.
Even be Steven Gerrard, scoring the winning goal in the World Cup final.
Do you ever look out your window when you’re lying in your bed. See the daylight coming through the curtains.
And out there, it’s not the Mersey it’s the River Nile.
Thinking, is it getting lighter?
And the world is full of abundance.
Or is it getting darker?
And hopes and dreams.
It’s a terrifying problem that.
And today
Because if it’s morning, all the bars are closed.
I can do anything.
Shops don’t open till nine o’clock. You can’t last till nine o’clock.
Anything is possible.
So you’re dead.