i woke up this morning feeling the very bad after effects of three hard whiskeys. no water, no soda, no ice– straight whiskey. thats what i like. (scotch is a close second) when i opened my eyes, i did not want to move. not at all. so, of course, i had a big sneeze comeup and it was all, ACHOO! oh sheet! ACHOO! oh sheet! ACHOO! i wanna die. (i sneeze in 3s) but i did manage to get the fuck out of bed and off to work.

last nite was pretty fun even though my ass got slaughtered in the slam. dead last in raw score. oh well, i feel pretty good about my performance and some of the things i did on stage. the judges didnt but hey- fuk em if they cant take a joke. i was still sober at that point so i can at least blame myself and not the liquor.

in prepartation i also memorized ‘Capicu’ and was ready to bust that out latah but dems the breaks. mara got some points and that made me happy especially since we were both practicing our shit like crazy and it paid off for at least one of us.

saw this interview on ESPN earlier in the day where joe namath is talking about his drinking and the big question was dropped- ‘why do you drink?’ and he says exaclty what i knew he was gonna say- ‘i dont know’ and inside i am all- ‘bullshit! you know why. even if you dont- you know what the questions you cant answer are. you just dont want to say em cuz you got no answers.’

and after what seemed like forever he says it again and i know that he was thinking of the real answer and going through the same cop out.

well either that or i know whats it like to be in that hot seat- do some fucked up shit- get caught and then just be asked for the simple answer to your problem. i’ve tried explaining it to some but it aint easy and somebody asked me if ive ever been happy- happy all by myself and with no other connections.

i told em that there was a few months in 96 i think that i was really free of everything. vision was doing great- i was busting my ass there by day and then at night i was either partying or going to strip clubs and that both were good. the strip clubs were a lil better just cuz but i was doing good at clubs. on the flip side, i was taking care of all my family.

that was some real happiness- taking the kids to a wrestling show and screaming our heads off for whoever, knowing all along that it was fake while making fun of the people that believed it was all real. yeah, man.

today, happiness is a more precious thing and it involves way too many people. the person i revealed all this happiness to heard all my stories and just came back with- ‘it sounds like you have never been really happy.’

man, i fought for those few months like mad dog and even if nobody else believes it i know what is the real deal. kinda like now. i say shit and it sometimes gets this sideways glance no matter what it is- i am happy (no youre not) i am sad (about what?) todays a good day (whatever) i just want the day to end (who cares?)

maybe this is the on set of paranioa but that would mean i care about the majority of the opinions areound me and the truth is i dont. maybe i should but ireally dont. i think ive trusted three people in my life and i kinda like it. things are getting better but there is a lot of hurt that accompanies these changes.

at the last acentos fish wanted to tell me something but noted that i was a bit drunk. he was wrong but i didnt feel like explaining that. last nite we talked a bit and i let him know- by the way, i am drunk.

it happened some time between my performance and the end of the night and it has nothing to do with how i did in the slam as much as it had to do with how i felt about my day and that was- please, let this shit be over.

i wanted the day to end on some kinda good note and i thought that maybe the slam could do that. it did. i was happy with what i did on stage but it still wasnt enough to make the day go away.

what i wanted to get away from was this image of a man that had it all and now was drkining it away. it looked a lot like me but i know that it wont be alcohol that will get me but it sure will be something.

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