In the process of finding me '(

I’m exhausted, and nothing more. Thinking if I can do a very slow motion, like gesture my fingers, so everything goes away. Everything such as friends, deads, novels, society, and my mother. I want all the disappointments to leak out of my lungs so I can breathe deeply. I want to go back to my mother, without being afraid of someone noticing that I’m drunk again, without one of them pointing his finger directionally at me saying, “Look at him he’s an alcoholic.” I want to go back to my mother’s house late in the night, knock on her door and whisper with shame, “Open the door and see how old I’ve become; I feel like I’ve lost twenty-eight years of my life while I was running towards nothing. Look at my aging face, my quivering lips, my red eyes, and my wet hair. Someone poured a bottle of water on my head on the way home. They probably thought I was drunk enough not to feel anything.  I am so screwed up, and that's all there is to it mom.”

 

You will place your palms on your beautiful mouth, and you will tell me that I am hallucinating due to one of these chronic fevers. You will say, “someone deceived you without you knowing.” Enough mom *this small God in your eyes, torment me* when I see myself innocent through your eyes, I hardly recognize myself, but this time I didn’t come to hide behind your back while you tell everyone that I am a good son. I came to tell you that I am an alcoholic son with bad manners, and I can’t understand how can a great woman such as you love someone terrible like me.

 

I remember the first time you saw me high, you weren't prepared adequately to see your only child in a situation like that. You did lecture me, and even though you had all the rights to slap me hard in the face, you just couldn’t.  Instead, you’ve chosen to punish me mentally and emotionally. Therefore, you cried as I sat there wiping your tears. That night you told me you hate me, I knew you were lying to me. You don’t know how to lie mother; that’s the reason you’ve kept on believing in me as I kept disappointing you. “You’re a good son, someone is deceiving you, and making you drink without your will, you’re not bad.” You’ve kept repeating to yourself more than to me. You can’t imagine the amount of pain that clutters my heart when I let you defend me in front of the society.

 

What you don’t want to admit is that I’m thankless son; I’m not good at doing anything but getting high, drinking, and causing you pain. No, I didn’t come to hide behind your back this time, I came to tell you that I’ve stumbled upon my luck, faith, and the sorrow of life has swallowed me. One dark evening I will fell from they edge of life silently. You have to understand now that I've grown so tall to point where you can't reach my head. You have to understand that I will die first, and you will open the door to the loneliness, and remember me as you cry and curse the society the pushed me towards death. Don't start crying now please, I’m hallucinating and painting a painful picture of words about my death. I’m very drunk, I love you, and I would love if you can put your hands on my head or hug me, so I can fall asleep while crying.