Imagine you're sitting at a table and the drunk version of you sits before you.
What would you say to one another?
Would the drunk you tell you the truth, admit to all the honesty you bury deep within or would the sober you manage to quell all of the clarity with your denial and issues?
And which one is the real one at this point? You spend more time with alcohol than you do with the voices in your head these days. So if your friends were to join you at the table, which of the two of you would they recognise more?
And if they say the drunk version of you is more you than you, does that mean that you can no longer blame drunk you for you terrible decisions? Does that mean that you will own up to the violent part of you, to the angry, to the player?
Or will you be so horrified that you feel the need to change your ways?
Or will nothing change?
Will you just shrug it off and keep making excuses for your behaviour?
One of those narrator dialogues that could start a great novel or screenplay. I'm thinking Ferris Buller, Memento or Fight Club. :-)
The loud chick in the corner.
With the big eyes.
And the notebook in her bag.
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