The Sweet Spot
It’s not a secret that I like to drink. I drink to accompany my meals. I don’t like drinking to the point that I have to throw up and get a hangover. I like to drink enough to take my mind off reality, but still have control of my consciousness. The sweet spot for me is to have just enough alcohol to relax, to leave my worries behind, and to not give a dam for a few hours.
How do I know when I reach that state of mind? It is usually after three bottles of beer, two shots of Patrón, or two glasses of gin and tonic. Anymore than those would send me over the regrettable mindset. What do I do when I reach that sweet spot? I like to drive and pump rap music at the maximum volume on my stereo. The recent album I had been enjoying was Ye’s “Yeezus.” “Hold My Liquor” and “I’m In It” got me tripped up every time.
This past winter, I hit the slopes when I reached my sweet spot and I could ski like a fearless motherfucker down the steep slopes. The feeling of letting myself fly down the slopes was just sensational. Of course, I was still able to control my skis to not let myself get into accidents. I also did it on rollerblades. The adrenalin rush of dropping down the half pipe was as exciting as it was scary as fuck. If I fell, I would be done, but I only live once.
I am obviously a bit drunk as I am writing this post. Writing while under the influence is just pure joy, but it could also get me into trouble. Then again, if you can’t be honest with what you are writing then what’s the point of blogging?