Are You Ready To Be Liberated?
While writing a father’s day piece today, I came across a bunch of small essays I wrote four years ago. Here’s how one started:
“It was the morning after one of the nights from which you get awoken by your own self-loathing. I was passed-out in my living room, experimenting with the adhesive properties of vomit on hardwood flooring, when my self-loathing found me. Only it wasn’t really vomit since the only thing I ate the day before was an entire bottle of scotch and about forty ice-cubes. Two per glass you see.
Self-loathing kicked me in the head to wake me up, and then shoved a dead cat in my mouth to make me remember what it tastes like when you have no soul. Everything I was wearing was going to have to be burnt.”
It hits me: those were some dark times. And then it hits me: these are some bright times. I’ve got everything I need. And, really, I should say thank you to everyone. I could never have made it without you. “Are you ready to be liberated?” someone once asked me. Hell yes I was. And you all set me free on these rain-soaked city streets.
If you’re ever feeling down about things and wondering what really matters in this too-often damned life of ours here’s the answer: you do. At least to me. And that’s a start. Do I think we’re going to make it? Honesty, I’m not sure. But I think we’d better try. The stories are going to be amazing.
