I’m not sure what I’m about to write. All I really know is that it’s 1:30am, and I became aware earlier that I didn’t post anything on the blog yesterday. Given my penchant for continuing with patterns, it would seem like a failure of sorts to disappear for too many days in a row. Hmmm. According to the spellchecker, I can’t spell “disappear”. Too many double letters.
Disclaimer : I’ve drunk half a bottle of “Harvey’s Bristol Cream” – a Sherry that has been part of my life since childhood. I discovered half a bottle of it in the 1920s drinks cabinet in the corner of our lounge earlier in the evening. Quite how it sat there for six months without vanishing is probably a testament to either my fortitude, or my complete ambivalence to anything and everything (I’m hedging my bets on the latter).
I find it interesting how alcohol divides people. Some people seem to have no “that’s enough” switch, which inevitably causes problems – both for themselves, and for those close to them. I know at least one person that will not read, or comment on this post, because of their own demons.
In many ways, alcohol is analogous to the internet for me. It is an escape – and one I know will bite me in the ass if I miss-use – which also explains why I am SO not the practiced drinker that my friends often appear to be. The internet is the rabbit hole from Alice in Wonderland – a limitless supply of things you never knew you wanted to know about – and friends you never anticipated you might have.
Here’s the things though : just recently I’ve heard (from more than once source) that I’m thought of as some kind of player of games – that I know this vast panoply of people across the web, or the net. The truth couldn’t be further from the fantasy. I keep in touch with very few people. I’m not entirely sure if it’s because I have rejected the masses, because the masses have rejected me, or because “the masses” numbers just me and a few friends these days. Again, I suspect the latter.