Blame it on the Alcohol

It's a well-known fact that alcohol reduces inhibition. What is also well known to me and my friends is how wild I am when I drink. If I think back to high-school, no alcohol was needed in order to induce the sort of mania that I sometimes seem to exhibit. It came naturally. With time, admonishment, tense encounters, and an occasional embarrassment these tendencies quieted themselves in daily life. However, like a dormant volcano that was only resting, my shadow self rises with a fermented fury after my 5th or 6th drink. The volume of my voice doubles, gravity ceases to matter as a leap over tables and bars, and strangers are nothing to be feared (the worst they can do is look at you funny). As I purposely kick and blur the boundaries of social acceptance tense situations are a risk (in addition to personal injury), but I am generally able to dissipate these situations as quickly as I create them.

Carnality bubbles to the surface and a raw sense of power almost drips through my veins. I'm also almost always exceedingly ebullient. My strangers always ask my friends "is he doing blow?."

What's most interesting to me about the whole thing is that this entirely different personality sits quietly within me each day as I sit at my cube, in church, in traffic, or through 3 hour films. Have I slowly through societal coercion and pragmatism unknowingly forced myself into voluntary domesticity? Have I thrown a wet blanket on the small embers that make my soul unique?

I don't know what it means, but the Jekyll & Hyde-ness of it all struck me as I woke up the morning and I wanted to write it down.