|the prize of freedome
||[Oct. 30th, 2009|04:52 pm]
Spinning 45 Ballerina
You wake up, all bent out of shape and at first you don’t remember what you did last night or understand why you overslept. Then gradually it creeps over you, and you remember little by little. I know, that you know, exactly what I’m talking about.
I’ve had a wish to get shitfaced for weeks now, but I just wasn’t successful. I couldn’t reach that coveted state of utter self-indulgent glory. Last night however I was victorious. The stupid things you do when drunk are an expression of the parts of the self that you normally suppress with ease. It’s sad to think about what a horrible world this would be if people went around saying and doing exactly what they wanted to all the time. Sad because I don’t like the realization of what freedom is, and how deep the restraints instilled in us go. The fact that you actually feel guilty when you've been completely free of social bondage is excruciating too me. And still, it does feel nice to visit the terrible old Id once in a while. Wallow in hatred, lust and jealousy. Just bee you’re worst for an evening.
I wonder if this is why a lot of the people who abstain are so clueless, just mindlessly self-satisfied. They have never actually breached the gap between the ego and the Id. Not having been confronted with they’re most primal self’s they end up not believing in them. (Not necessarily the religious people though, they’re often so guilt ridden over they’re instincts they spend most of they’re lives obsessing about the dark side of they’re nature.)
So I think it’s good for you, to able to show off your worst sides once in a while, and with that fantastic excuse: I was drunk.
Because people don’t hold any of it against you, it’s so weird. Even though I acted appallingly at the end of the evening and all but tackled my friend in order to steal her a last cigarette, she sent me an apology text this morning because she thought she had talked to much.
I’ve realized being horrible no big deal. People don’t judge you’re Id, that would be cruel, and besides, we’re basically all the same.
I remember one time I was making my supper, (alphabet nudels I believe) and I suddenly remembered having someone suck my fingers the night before at one of these party’s you don’t get any more, that somehow naturally turned into semi-orgies. I remember the embarrassment, and from who? Myself. My ego, and even to some extent my super-ego’s pride was hurt. People don’t have sober orgies, and isn’t that a shame?
(Btw: This Id-thing, it’s based more on Forbidden Planet than on Fraud. Sorry for being so insufferably pop-culture. I’ll try to do better. Monsters! Monsters from the Id.)