MAN IN THE MIRROR.

11/01/2015.

Dear diary,

Sunday, yaaaay! You would think but naah, it is actually a miracle I woke up in one piece. As far as I am concerned I am at the bottom of the mountain, at the bottom of the hell pit and all that surrounds me are miles and miles of wastelands and creatures that no one would dream of. With me on my right are my demons, downfalls, mishaps, screw-ups and disappointments. On my other side are hell hounds, ghouls and enemies all barking in my ear; shouting and wailing and they are so deep in my head I can feel them gnawing at my mind. Behind me is a road full of sin littered with liquor, coitus and party freaks; symbolic representation of my party side. In front of me is a narrow staircase up that mountain. Like a path leading to Olympus but it is not a golden staircase but rather a path that would scare anyone out of his wits. In front of me, the staircase up that mountain is my symbolic representation of hope and the white light at the end of the tunnel hoping it is not actually the headlights of a mega-tron monster truck heading straight for me.

My head is aching. Pounding like the smashing hit of a sledgehammer on an anvil and with every pound my sanity gives in. So does my mental wall is crumbling down. What a hangover!? But it is not at all as a result of a party but rather my mental incapability to fathom the turmoils that have turned me inside out and curved up my heart to the point it looks like a black pirate flag; just scraps of a clothe with claw marks that have the skull as an emblem. After the pangs that were happy New Year, I found myself drunk beyond my unscathed understanding and all for what; matters of the heart gone awry. After that night that I lost myself with no one to look after me I swore that I would not by any chance find myself at the mercy of liquor or at least not to that extent but there I was last night, ten days after my solemn promise. Seated on the cold floor in the dark corridors of what I call home, my lumia in one hand and a half empty bottle of New Amsterdam Gin in the other and all I can see is darkness throughout. My back against the wall and as my phone lights up to the incoming whatsapp message I see her picture under the notification and at first I smile but then it all creeps of my face and I am filled with rage (not blind rage though), disappointment and creaking emotional pain. All that is left to complete the sweating disgusting image of pure sorrow and utter reek of disgust is the lack of a manly-unshaved beard which I don’t have unfortunately.

I take one huge gulp of gin and find my way up but the wall is my support. I reach for the switch to the lights in my bedroom and a gleaming green neon light struck my eyes. I fall back stunned and find support on the wall that is adjacent to my parent’s bedroom. My pupils are finally well adjusted to the light and as I raise my head and at that exact moment I see those cold dark eyes, colder than ice, staring down at me. I see every bit of the guy whose world has been turned inside out by just the first month of year that is 2015. Yes, I see myself. The man in the mirror if you would allow me to say. I look terrible but what do you expect from an alcohol ridden man. I have nothing to die for leave alone live for. I am just one mash up of fucked up. Gulp, another sip of bitter smooth gin. As it burns then I feel the pain numbing. First, the pain of being screwed at love by people who stand to gain at anything and last the pain of being part of a family has yet to known any form of true happiness for nearly a year and if we did then it was by far short lived. My vision is not what it is but I can still see myself staggering and so is the man in the mirror.

I have lost track of time and I am just a guy whose waiting to see what life has to offer after what it took away. I have lost everything; the girl, the mutual friends, a tainted public image, self-respect and all I am is nothing but some cheap washed off man basking in the old reminiscent glory of the good old days when I had friends and the perfect life. I have had to settle for less so many times but this time I guess karma hit below the belt and I don’t know. I look at myself in that mirror, that splitting image of who I am and wonder how comes I am the one going through all this. In fact as I see myself I believe that the only people who can save me right now is either her, time or me but unfortunately time is too much and I do not trust myself at this state right now. Gulp, another one for the road. Shiver me timbers.

Wait a minute, did I see that right? My reflection just moved. That liquor must have been some great shit. Yes, my reflection had assumed an aristocrat British posture and it stared at its finger-nails like some spoilt rich kid and he stared at me with regret and disappointment. I guess I was disappointed in myself. It wasn’t over there, apparently it could also speak but we all know that it was just my conscience. He said, “What the hell are you doing you pathetic insult of my principles? So, this is what it has all come down to. Endless rummaged stupidity topped up with continuous alcohol into your system. What happened to positive living and being a realist? Taking it as it comes and moving on means nothing to you?”

“Who are you to judge me? Do you even know what I have been through these past few months? Trust me I have tried but it is simply just too difficult. I can’t really live with myself knowing that she is on the other side thinking I am nothing but a bag full of lies, that I am nothing but completely meaningless and the bitter realization that she will never speak of me in future with any sort of pride.”

“Well, if you haven’t noticed, I am you and you are me. I know every bit of molecule there is to know about you. This is not who we are. We always find a way. If she doesn’t believe you then by hell you will have a way to manipulate the system until you can convince them all, otherwise for now go get some rest you will need it for the road that is ahead of you will be nothing but hard.”

I turn my head towards my bedroom and slowly walk towards my bed. Then I take another gulp but I guess that was the last nail on my coffin. I thought I was going forward but the more I moved the more gravity failed me and it was only a matter of seconds before I kissed the ground.

Next thing I remember my mum wakes me up today and I expected her to be mad at me but like any other mother, she is very worried. I already had told her of how it had all gone since it was only justice as she kept on pestering about when she would come to visit again. With a low voice she ensures I nurse back to health and so for the most of the afternoon I have been in bed sulking and deep in thought about how it was. More importantly I was buried in the comforts of my novel but that’s how far it is and how hard.

As I write this, I will admit that I am man who is lost and wants nothing but her right now. Until January ends I will try to see how far I can go in fixing it but if it does not in any way go as planned then I will have the world know my conscience will be clear or so I hope. God helps those who help themselves.

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