I’m sober

I’m sober.


I can infer the taste of alcohol from its smell even though I might be wrong: I’ve never had enough guts to taste it.  Apologies to those who take it, but it really has never made any sense to me.  Hello, this nip doesn’t even smell good, so what the heck? Another part that doesn’t seem to make sense is how it gets one high. Ok, so is it high they call it? I’ve seen a drunk person before, and I have seen what alcohol has made him do and say, and boy, I never wonna try it.

Strangely though, I think I just had it. Or something like it, cause right now I’m sober.

When one gets sober from alcohol, let’s just say he returns to steady state. Reality sets in, truth hits him, and the world he ran away from in his drunken state has summoned him back without prior warning. That’s basically what happens.


The intoxication of a birthday can be crazy. It feels like the world centers around you alone, and people seem to live their lives to make you happy. You practically own the day and you can’t wait to tell anyone who cares to listen. Or wait, they can’t wait to tell you if you care to listen. That day you feel different, and all you wanna do is pause time and bask in the euphoria of unparalleled significance. You’re the man! You’re the boss! You literally call the shots!

Then night falls, and if you are anything like me, you probably throw a party. Tick-tock-tick-tock…. Its 11:45pm. You start to get evacuated from dps and pms, the message-call-shoutouts spree suddenly wilts, the gifts retreat, the cake has been fiercely pierced and shoved into small intestines, gradually, a new man takes the day, the attention, the love-shower….by 12am, it becomes arrears. Some still say their his and heys concerning the birthday, but you don’t wanna hear that word. No. you don’t even wanna smell it. You want the birthday greeting without the arrears, you want the bread without the flour, you want the time to be yours forever. Time shakes its head at you and passes, your pleas notwithstanding. It has moved on to another man’s address, you should move on too, it says to you coldly.

Much as I love birthdays, I hate so much to deceive myself. I hate so much to think that just because I’m a year older on a certain day makes my life transform instantly or changes my reality forever. If my life does change drastically, it isn’t because of a birthday, it is probably because I willed and worked it to.  Guys, thanks for the love. I could drown in the avalanche of love you showered on me yesterday. It was too much for words, so I grinned sheepishly when the words choked me. Everyone needs to feel like that once a year, its totally health and necessary for stability. But it would be stupid of me to remain in yesterday cause time didn’t stop there. and this is as true to me as it is to everyone else: GET SOBER. More trophies will never come unless you put the present ones down and get to work. New birthdays will never come for you unless current ones become arrears. Enjoy the moments of celebration and gratification, and refuse to die there, you’ve got work to do, a life to live, a world to face, an audience to address, a hand to hold, a people to lead, a cause to fight. You have habits to deal with, virtues to embrace and puzzles to solve. Get up, get sober, and move.

Once again I say, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME, and to the many men after me.