A good wine does clear up the mess in your mind. Don’t worry and go sit down and have some wine. Notice, it’s wine, not cocktails like Tequila Sunrise or Gin and Tonic. Just WINE… wine… A glass of wine at dinner, or after dinner.
For some reasons, I used to hate wine because I was young and only wanted to get drunk. Yes I learned a lot and grew up from trouble. Not that am I saying I am old enough, but I just think I’ve learned enough from the mistakes I made in the past.
I now like to sit down and have a glass of wine. Then I start thinking, especially brainstorming the ideas I’ve lost in mind. When wine comes in, ideas return. Yes, it’s a great feeling. Often I’ve come to the time when I have to write but I have not inspiration. Now wine does the job. I know why it is hard for me to write when I am sober and writing for some publication, or even the blog. I don’t like critiques in the way that I feel like writing is my own business and by giving me your critiques you are definitely interfering with my life. But on the other hand, I love critiques because I know you are at the same time helping me. Hence, it’s a dilemma. My life is often in the middle of options, and I eventually have to choose, which is very difficult (at least I find it difficult).
But wine does help me to elaborate my ideas in my own private journal, or my blog. Maybe I’ve mentioned that I do indeed have my own private journal and kept it for years. Last summer, I finally finished the las journal, the same journal I’ve kept for three years, all the bitter and sweet, the fun and the drama, also the pain and laugh. It’s very hard for me to go through again. I may never review this journal again. It’s one of the painful ones.It’s so painful because it’s got all the memories there, and I know it will remind me of all, all that reminds me of the pain in the wound. The wound actually doesn’t heal until someone comes to help you.
My mom still asks from time to time if it’s possible to get back to where I left. I firmly told her no. And she told me that she understood my wound would heal until I find someone.
Oh wow, you just peek at my wound and tell me it will never heal? But you said you understand? That’s total BS.
My mom and I are close. But I don’t tell her everything, especially we are so far apart. There are things I don’t tell her, seriously. Think ’bout the parent talk… Geez. I’ve had enough of those when I was young. Now I am a college student. Come on. I am okay for not telling you all my life dramas. Some were the results of what I asked for. I know I’ve been wrong. But I am stopping it now. So be proud and stop giving me the parent-talk.
I wish I could drink with my parents some time and get drunk. I know they would tell me so much about their past. My mom’s told me some. But I know that she’s got some good stories of grandparents and from herself. I look forward to hearing stories from Mom and Dad. They are awesome people. But unfortunately, we never drink together.
In the past winter, Grandpa passed away and his death left my mom and Grandma a great big wound. this wound doesn’t seem to heal so far, honestly. I know, by myself, that it will not heal for another while. Missing some dead people isn’t just about grieve but also pain. These are the two things that are hard for people to get over. Wine helped at some point. Homework and school keep me mentally tired while swimming keep me physically tired so I am able to sleep without recalling of anything. It’s another time that I think that memory should have “DELETE” button. Unfortunately, there’s NOT.
Drinking alone isn’t pathetic. There’s actually a difference between “I don’t have friends” and “I am a loner.” I think I am more like the second kind that I may not need friends. I know I have friends but they are just not close by at all. Yet, I don’t mind being a loner at this point and in this place. I feel like I’ve overreacted to the fact that I am a loner. I am finally getting used to it.
Now, I love wine. It’s slow and chilled. It slows down my brain an allow me to explain myself more. So far, at least, I think it’s good.
PS: at this point, I am almost done with the bottle of a 2008 Clos La Coutale… a French wine. I like it.