Phase 14 : "I Think, Therefore I am.........Just..."

An Alcoholic has a inner voice. In fact everyone has an inner voice, but they don't always pay attention to it. Or the voice is just a whisper, and gets completely ignored. An Alcoholic, and me in particular, had an inner voice that was loud, and argumentative, and confident, and imaginative, and clever, and had all the answers. I wanted that voice to be my main voice, and I knew exactly how to "turn it up". Whilst I was sober, it sat quietly in the background. It needed the Vodka, like a flower needs water, to rise up and come to life. I liked it. I liked what it said. I liked how it formed opinions. I liked how it conjured up solutions to problems, to creative designs that were so implicit in my work, so I decided to try and write down what it was saying.
It didn't look as good when sober, not what I thought it was saying, and an all too different message seemed to be abundantly clear......
...."What with all these extremely brilliant things I think about, I really must document them. They will be dynamite for the future. These designs, these quotes. They're fantastic."..I thought to myself, as I woke that morning. Whilst thinking these thoughts, and deciding to buy a diary, I hadn't even realised that 3 gulps had gone by. I snap back into consciousness when I nearly drop my pint glass. "O, nearly spilt that. Mr careless..". I go through my customary routine that morning, and decide to browse the corner shop for cheap diaries. I check my change, "...£8.42, should be OK," I ponder. I found I have enough for both the diary and my daily Vodka allowance, so I buy both. The day goes pretty much as all the others recently, I think. Visited to the car during the day. Driving to a quiet spot at lunchtime, so as not to be spotted as I skip food and just spend the time in the driver seat, drinking. That evening I start writing. "This writing lark is difficult..." I think. I was right. Writing isnt easy. But, I dont mean writers block, or the panic of a blank page. No, I mean physically forming the words on a page, when the shakes are bubbling under the surface, and when the double vision comes and goes. Its like being a 5 year old again, trying to keep the words all horizontal, with lettering the same height. I scrawl something down every day, thinking it is some spectacular literative masterpiece. It is only later, when I look back and decipher the infantile lettering, that I make out the statement..
"Why I drink so much..."
There were even reasons, so I must have been trying to say something...