He couldn’t quite find the words to describe the feeling. His head, but more specifically, his face (or what he sensed to be his face) was tingling. He wasn’t drunk – he knew what that was like, and he wasn’t a fan – but he wasn’t precisely sober, either. He was somewhere on the uptick of intoxicated. Buzzed? Perhaps, though, he didn’t feel like ‘buzzed’ was a very technical term.
When does one become buzzed?
What are the varying degrees of intoxication?
How many shots had he taken? Three? Four? Five? He felt mildly impressed by the fact he had taken at least a few shots over the course of nearly two hours, yet he wasn’t far out.
He noticed that everything seemed to be more pronounced; sounds, sensations, feelings. His internal monologue – the damned thing that left him often questioning how sane he indeed was – seemed to be louder, yet not yelling, nor sharp. It had a smoothness to it, much like the smoothness of the Roca Patron, Resposado.
He eyed the bottle. The question arose in consciousness, “Should I take another shot?” This begged the question, “To who was the question asked if the subject was ‘I’”?
No answer. The void continued to be.
There isn’t much else to consider, at the moment, and in this present state. Thirty-minutes hasn’t gone by, and he knew that another shot was on the menu. Could he continue to write coherent sentences? Perhaps. Perhaps not. He was having a hard enough time, on a good day, recognizing reality.
Does anyone, honestly, know what reality IS?
What if I am the experienced self of some hippy in the 1960s, tripping on Acid?
What if all of this is illusory?
How do you know?
How does anyone know?
When did I switch from ‘he’ to ‘I’ and ‘you’? (in the previous paragraph, obviously, but when in real-time-conscious-land?)
Too many questions.
Not enough Patron.
Not enough will power to write the full thirty-minutes after a day of nearly non-stop meetings and other responsibilities.
Here is to you, fifteen-minutes. May tomorrow bring a full thirty and content worth reading. Cheers! Another shot.