A party in the jungle heat,
he is sober,
Like always.
Just one drink...
Come on try it...
No.
One, please, do it with me
No
Don't be left out
No
Just one...?
...no...
One.
Capitulation First Sip.
Fruit juices of the jungle- strawberry sweet with that telling aftertaste
no regret.
Sip.
Gulp.
First cup finished
He is Tipsy.
Secnd cup finshed
He is Buzzed.
Pride, He has lost his inicense, He is growin' up.
The only limit is dere are none...
Three cups in and the sweet nektar is gane,
One half a Loko next – grawss.
The world tips.
One half a wutr botle goes very fastly - no flavor at all
The world blurs,
Cut to couch 3 am
He tiiirrrred, He fulll, He is full-on drunk.
For the first time in sixteen years, he is a wining-confused-inarticulate baby.
Pillow on his face to hide from the lights- not the shame- just the party that needs to be over
He wants sleep, but the spins keep him awake.
The rumors abound: "He assed out on the couch."- not true.
Alcohol fueled lie.
Alcohol distorts perception far worse than a few rumors can hope to encompass.
Alcohol turns your average teen into a
Thrill-seeking
Death-defying
Lady-killing
Frisky-living
Idiot.