Drunk Vs Sober

Drunk Vs Sober

By jfarrell



Let’s start by saying “alcohol reinforces depression”;

I offer no argument;

I’m not a doctor,

I can understand the argument.



I was teetotal until 24;

Growing up with my parents,

Staying away from alcohol seemed like a VERY good idea.


I was alone when I was teetotal;

I’ve always been alone, as a drunk;

“alcohol reinforces depression”;

Yeah, but I would still be alone.


And that’s wot causes the depression.


In nine days I will be 50;

My concept of sobriety….

Never drink alcohol again….

…. a new year… a new life…




I can’t not drink, ever again;

I prefer being drunk to sober;

My shame, my feelings

Are dulled by alcohol.


Cutting down my alcohol…

I have no choice;

Get home midnight with 6 am start…

No time to get smashed..


To those suggesting I should… I might….


Maybe not superdrunk forever;

But being sober forever…

Even if I wanted to…


I just don’t see that happening….




Maybe life does, today, start at 50.


And to those that read, and did leave a comment…


I will be having a 50th birthday party;

I’m still here, I’m celebrating.


Whether loads turn up, or its just me dancing with me my beer…


I ain’t gonna know anyone…

New job, new “friends”… “ bring a bottle and a friend….

“no birthday cards or presents…

Just your goodselves, your prefeered drink and a friend…


Facing fears, taking risks….

Valuing myself….. still here, at 50….

Will the real jfarrell, please stand up.

Drunk Vs sober…


Alcohol is a crutch….

But, I’m still standing…

My crutch may be COSTLY and very ugly…

But, I’, still standing.


And having a 50th birthday party…

Thanks for voting…




Author's Notes/Comments: 

cutting down my drinking, i have no choice - but i can't see me stopping and never drink again, sorry - maybe sometime in the future, but right now, ending this year and starting a new one - just hate being sober too much


I'm actually starting to feel

After being numb for so long

All these emotions flood in, so real

It's natural but at first it feels so wrong


It won't be easy to travel this path

But now I know I'm not alone

The second I start to feel it won't last

I can reach out and pick up the phone


Meeting people in the same place

Helping each other get through it

Suddenly there's a smile on my face

Because I realize I can do it

Author's Notes/Comments: 

(October 2014) Wrote this in rehab. Such a good feeling. This is still how I feel today. I CAN do it. :)

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Wulfman Adventures

My soul is cold
As the sin venom
Drains from me
The days of sobriety
Grow in numbers
My fear breathing
Nightmares shrink
But without the intoxicants
The concealed skeletons
Come out to march
Even in times when I rest
I still have to suit up
I look to the positive
The war has been won
Now until the small battles are solved
I just have to survive
The relearning of myself

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Wulfman Adventures

In the late hours
When I use to be electric
Now I tiresome, drawn out
Sore exhaustion from the day
Being the ruler of my new world
It is new, like me to myself
Though I dream of being free
Free of armor and responsibilities
Free of wars and battles
I won't be hence
I claim that I am a knight
What is a knight without armor?
That would be like midnight without the moon
A fish breathing air
Utter nonsense
So I remain
Within a metal cocoon
Though there are more days
Where I am not in suit
As the days of peace settle
I grow restless
I hope soon to be adjusted
I am driving my self nuts

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Wulfman Adventures

I laugh at what I have became
A hollow man with little response
To the world, I am just another smiling man
Inside I am dead, rotting, stinking of regret
Forgive me Father for what I have become
I see your hands, offering help up out of the gutter

What if I am comfortable finally?
What if this exhausted mutt don't wanna come home?
What if this worn out super hero just wants to stay down?
Why do I keep standing? When I know I be knocked down again.
All this frustration and rage
Yet I am calm without lashes of destruction

I stare at the world with hollowed eyes
Blackness and dirt eating what remains of my soul
To the world, I am just another EMO faking to get by
Inside I want to scream for joy, but I am stitched silent
Forgive me Jesus, for I have fallen
Yet your blood and patience outweighs my sin

What if I am too comfortable?
What if I am just pretending to sleep to avoid the work at hand?
What if I only wear threadbare clothes to be ignored?
Why do I keep eating dirt when I know I am standing?
All this confusion and I have a crumpled map
In denial, I refuse to see the way til I am clubbed over the head and carried
Like the brat I am...

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The Mirror 2010

Wulfman Adventures

One: Freak
The man in the shiny window laughs at my tears.
Now I am the one doing the laughing.

Two: The Glare
His lake like eyes trying their best to break me.
My smile of sanity gives him a spin like a butterfly caught in a tornado.

Three: Sharing
Together like some demented conjoined twins, we cannot live without one or the other.

Four: Shard Dancing
What a pop I gave the man on his reflective jaw. Now we are a cutting jigsaw puzzle, help us please?

Five: A Dream
I had a dream but now it is shattering into glistening nightmares.

Six: Blood Hand Duke
Our fists match each given blow to our twisted snarls of anger ‘til one bloody self remains.

Seven: Mine
I am my sickness, the hatred for my reflective twin.
Like cat and dog, back and forth ‘til I lay waste to shiny glass and flesh.
The split blood is due to pay for the change.

Eight: Clueless
Our death at my hands, ripping my twin from me as Dr. Crude spins another vinyl for the sanity of my cottage-cheese brains.

Nine: Unknown
Why am I insane?
Why am I high with nothing?
But the soothing sound of breakage…

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One: Break it!
Destruction of a soul can be awe inspiring, but not when out of love.

Two: Uh-oh!
Everything is falling down, and I did not do anything!

Three: Azure
In the dull ashes, a gay glow blooms of fiery colours. Could this be dawn?

Four: Well Being
I am an open window, and I can feel the pleasure for once.

Five: Corner Stone
My world was never built on love. My world is crude and bleak.
Until I find the missing honour and beating heart.

Six: Lies
How much longer will I drink these lies?
Until all their flavors taste bland as cheap smokes?

Seven: Really?
A brick at a time, one-day and one-step at a time.
Yes, boring really.

Eight: Self Pleasures
The cheap whores please me no more than weak smoke sucked into my air bags.
My soul and heart are no longer pained by the fleshly sin and disgrace.

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