I started my day by waking up to my suburban castle. Technically, I guess you could say I lived in my parents' basement. But it wasn't the dusty, dirty, ashamed part of the house that you're thinking of. My grandmother used to live downstairs, so everything was perfectly furnished and ready for my adolescent tomfoolery. I had just returned from my Freshman year of college, which would need to be another novel all together. Basically all you need to know is that I did a lot of drugs, made a lot of friends, and academically did absolutely nothing. So after a year of what feels like eternal social bliss and you come back to your parents' house reminding you of the torment and ridicule that came with High school, it kind of reverses your view of your life.
My parents left for a week so I'm here in my house, caring for my dog, and doing absolutely nothing. Today I haven't done anything I was supposed to except drink for about 8 hours straight. And it's not like it's three in the morning. It's five in the afternoon, so if you do a little math you'll realize that means I started drinking at nine in the morning. You see, I definitely do have a drinking problem. But it's at the point where it's not like I'm drinking because I want to escape my life or because I'm so depressed that I ended up where I ended up. That's how it used to be. Now it's because my boyfriend of eight months is over two hours away and you can't cuddle and kiss him in person when you're having a bad day. Now it's because I'm living in my parents basement while all my friends are continuing their amazing college experiences and I went from having the life I had always dreamed of and secretly would give anything to go back to, to living in their basement having to go up stoned out of my mind for dinner at night and pretending like I give a shit what their day was like.
So after taking a decently reinvigorating nap, I've decided to start drinking more. Some say I have a problem, some say I've found the solution. Whatever the case, I'm feeling pretty damn good and I'm starting to write the first chapter of my book, so I really can't complain. The way the clear liquid of life runs down your throat entrapping your body with that warming, tingling sensation. Call me an alcoholic, but it's what I live for.
So this chapter isn't going to be much about what the actually novel is about, but more of just a little intro into the depressing world that I call my own. I drink, I smoke marijuana, I visit my boyfriend, and I often (but not always) go to class so I can hopefully get my Associate's degree when I'm 22 years old. The rest will be explained further on, but basically all you need to know is that this will be a story of great personal revelation. It will talk of love, life, and hope. It will speak of the crippling pains of being tormented as a teenage gay boy in middle school and high school. It will speak of the multiple and painful arguments between me and my boyfriend, over drinking or living so far apart, or even hanging out with the great Mary Jane. It will not be a sap story, and it will not be purely a tragedy nor a drama. It will simply be the truthful array of my life from the last eight months. I truly hope you can find some relevance in your own life so that this story not only helps me to express my inner-most thoughts and expressions, but so it can help all of you realize that you are not alone in this world. It's a vast swirl of personalities that all intertwine in this globe that we call our home. But as different as we are, it does NOT mean that we are alone.