I’m trying to learn to be the me who’s had a couple drinks, all the time. The me who seems to have a little luck with the ladies. The me who seems like he, doesn’t give a fuck. Because typically I’m stuck in this perpetual motion like applying lotion to a wound instead of hydrogen peroxide. I confide in my friends about a means to an end and end up doing nothing to fix it. that’s right I’m a coward. I bring the Ladies flowers and then I’m afraid to tell them maybe they could use a piece of gum. In my mind I think I have all these superpowers. But I’m really just a child with a towel for a cape. But after a couple drinks, I’m the happy me. The fun, the talkative, the honest me. Three vodka tonics in and I’m the, dance like no one’s watching, me. As much as I like dancing though, I don’t want to do it all the time. Honesty on the other hand… pour me a double.