...GET THE WHOLE STORY.
Still reeling from his mistakes in Chapter 11: Bodies, he is doubling down on his urge to let loose and forget about his fuck ups; instead he’s choosing to become one. His drinking is becoming more and more frequent and he is slowly turning himself into the one person he swore he’d never be. The old man, the hypocrite, the functioning alcoholic.
Pessimist!? More like accept-imist.
His antics are beginning to take its toll on the people in his life but he won’t see it; he’s just steady bullshiting and making excuses. They call it “loser drunk”. He calls it “blowing off steam”, “working through some shit” and “stressed out but trying”. Some nights he’s channeling Hunter S. Thomson; others he’s Bam Margera or Nick Cage in leaving Las Vegas. Passing out in bathrooms, chirping assholes or falling in love with strangers; hitting on anything with a pulse. Just having a time and synthesizing moments that take his mind off of actual moments he can’t take back.
”I’m just waiting for Godot, may as well be fucked up while doing it”.
He doesn't realize it but rock bottom is coming and Malik is always watching.
Check out the playlist on Spotify and check out my website (link in my bio) for more blogs about Malik and ...get the whole story.
After losing his license and landing on his second D.U.I. Malik starts spinning out of control and his cycle of substance abuse begins a new. In a daydream or a haze that spans days, Malik is binge drinking, cocaine indulging and boundary pushing like he is the star of a bizarre play within a play. He’s either too high or he’s dreaming of going back to who he used to be in his college days.
March 17th 2005
Thursday night pregame in the back of a 97 Sebring feening to get that tension releasing.
6 shots deep, almost KO’ed but like an elastic he bounces back - tonight he’s still ganna snap. The bOys are hard up, drinking and in his head he’s trying to get to a place where he can confidently communicate with these ladies. He pours in 2 more shots and lets the liquor do the thinking.
Downtown the bOys walk the streets. Pornhub snap back on tilt sideways, white T’s and Silver jeans they leave their coats in the car; its freezing. He walks into the bar drunk on some liquid fame and a false sense of entitlement like he’s a household name. A stroll or a saunter he promenades like he’s got skin in the game. Skin IS the game and across the place he notices a dame gleaming in shot glasses and ripped jeans. Hammered with confidence he watches his prey. She walks like she wants to play; it just may take some convincing.
Follow me on Spotify
He sits strapped into the driver seat of his vehicle. The SUV is pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway and he stares into his rearview mirror. Red and blue lights oscillate on the back of his head and neck, he’s fucked. As he awaits his fate, he takes three deeps breaths and thinks back to when and where they first met.
The first time.
Back in McCool’s room with a handful of dudes that don’t truly know him, he takes his first drink, mostly to fit in. He thinks back to that first taste of gin and the confidence it would give. Stifling any anxiety he could feel creeping within. Liquid nerve and self-assured with every mix.
“That’s when I knew, it was kismet that I’d meet you. Since that first time you’d never stray far from my side and I could count on your support to lean into. Look at us now, you’re autocratic and overbearing and I’m still nervous and furious without you. I’m infatuated. There is not one like you. It’s what you do to me and the way you make me who I wish I could amount to but I’m too insecure to become.”
He spots in his side mirror the door of the cruiser open and a man appears. His mind moves out of McCool’s room and into the eyes of his kid.
“Malik is watching as he always is. Every move I make is a roadmap for him. Every blackout night and dance with gin is a recipe for him to do exactly as I did.”
He forces himself to shake away the guilt and spends the next 15 minutes mumbling and stumbling over straight lines; blowing in and out of a Borkenstein breath sampler. The entire time he can feel the eyes of his neighbours and coworkers as they drive by. This shit spreads like SARS and before dawn everyone he knows will know his car is gone for 12 to 18 months. He’s got two options, dish out in insurance as a high risk or pick up a used Huffy or a Schwinn.
Follow me on Spotify.
He heads out to the shed, fires up the old marantz amp, cranks the tunes, picks up a guitar but rips 2 gram joints to his skull instead. Tangueray to numb away the pain of today and like the past he’s fucked up again. Third time this night, everyday this week. As the room fills with fumes he sees his boy through the smoke.
Malik is watching.
“Pull up a chair to the round table, have a drink and a drag with your old man and let me pass the torch.”
Malik is watching.
“You and me are alike, kid. I am the blood and you’re the seed, Malik represents both the father and tyke. Right? Now that you got hair on your bag, stress on your back and off your mom’s tit it’s time for you to tag into the rotation. Repeat that pattern just like my old man did.”
Malik motions to leave.
“Hang on son, don’t get it twisted this is your life to live I’m just offering you the same advice my old man would give. Take a seat and stay a while; don’t worry about the wife. I know the family needs you home but sometimes it's for the best to settle these things in court. Look at me and your mom we never worked. I learned a long time ago there’s other worms in the dirt.”
Malik is watching,
“Now when you break it off, let your mirror give you some game. Before long she’ll be after your cheque steady answering texts from random numbers following them with ease into beds. Crawling back to you in between crying about working shit out. But that’s all just a test, you ain't changing for them. Feeling broken, abandoned? You’re just a reflection of that. Like my old man, I’m not really here if you need me. So suck it up and own your own weaknesses like a boy named Sue. Repeat after me, take your place in the cycle while Malik watches you.”
Follow me on Spotify
After hearing the news, Malik heads to a friends place to “get his mind off of it for a few hours”. His mind is a quiet wreck that no one will notice because he’s “getting drunk tonight, big time.”
The bOys begin the night with a 40 of Tangueray and GTA. A track comes through the virtual airways that resonates. Feel Good Inc. and “that’s the plan.”
Bong rips; feel good, shots bud; feel good. Pour one out down his throat for a Spirit in the Sky never waste a drop for a loved one. Just feel good.
Seeing double, seeing triple, seeing that he’ll never see him again. He’s seeing that death is real. Malik wanders off to take a quick piss, more rips, more gin and more thoughts begin to creep in.
“I need your answers on how to live. I’m upside down now and backwards, I’ve tried nothing, everything works. I’m tired. There was no one else who understood. Only you. I’m leaving, I’m alone and not like I was symmetrical. I’m ripped and hammered. I’m tired, missing pieces and wordless. Fuck off, I’m fine. I am groot”.
Follow dadbOdd on Spotify