I Reach for Rum  

Oleh:

Wong, Maria

Jenis: Article from Journal - e-Journal
Dalam koleksi: Qualitative Inquiry vol. 15 no. 3 (Mar. 2009), page 499.
Topik: Sickness; Rum; Concentration
Fulltext: 499.pdf (50.35KB)

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Sickness throws me into a bottle. I cannot say why, but I engage in my vice. Reach for the bottom. I do not hurry, do not rest. Now, if someone took my bottle, I would kill. I sit alone. The smell of booze lingers in the corners of the room. It neutralizes the odor of yesterday’s T-bone steak. Glass after glass of wine. A half-opened bottle of rum in one hand. A half-opened bottle of chardonnay in the other. I look around. I’m all alone with no one to stop me. I drink whenever I want. I reach for the rum. Don’t know how things got so bad. But I’m screwed. Really, really screwed. Screwed up beyond reason. Fubar: Fucked-up beyond all recognition. My boss, brother, or stepfather taught me the acronym. But who taught me to drink?

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