Escaped.

To that Friday, April 17th 2015. The Friday of my first bottled beer ever.

Hm. This is weird.

It’s irregular how my mom let me sip myself numerous times out of a beer in a bottle.

Something is probably not right.

Oh, right.

What’s not right is my heart.

It aches like hell so much lately.

Maybe I feel a little too intoxicated;

Maybe I am not as conscious as to preserve myself for my future someone

Maybe I felt too warm for the tropical weather

Maybe I hurt my lungs and heart at a too much of a rate.

But I enjoyed this feeling;

The feeling of being intoxicated

The feeling of not wanting to keep myself “too clean”

The feeling of extra warmth from deeper down inside

The feeling of hurting my lungs; making my heartache drown – that I don’t have to feel it for a split second

The feeling of being in between conscious and unconsciousness

The feeling that I might puke anytime

The feeling of as if I were seeing stars

The feeling of tasting beer for the very first time and enjoying it – of tasting the vague world as it is.

Good music with such good vibe complements my enjoyment

My lungs kept screaming for more air, but it does not limit the movement of my thoughts

I feel coldness coming from the ice cream melting in my mouth

And for the very first time I hated it

I hated the coldness

I wanted to be embraced back by the warmth of the conscious drinking, the maddening insanity

I want to feel warm again

I want to feel as if I was to puke again

I want to forget again

I want to taste the bittersweet of drunkenness some more

My heart is racing; but I feel calm

My brain is wired; but I’m alive with adrenaline

My feeling is confused but relieved at the same time

The sensation is so surreal

But then again, I enjoyed it as every good first time does.

I still feel warm

But not the warmth I felt a few hours ago

The warmth now seemed deceiving

The warmth felt wrong

But I don’t feel the heartache anymore

Maybe it did work.

Maybe finally, I did escape a heartache. –red