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  • WATER---------------------------------------------------------

    Water; there is almost nothing as vital and as taken for granted. Water things are the events that take place throughout the day. I take my shower, sip my coffee and watch my dogs make their morning rounds to every tree within the perimeter of my house. These are the colorless, tasteless things people do repeatedly, without much thought. These are the activities that I must perform continuously to ensure a hydrated and balanced life.

    Like water, the monotonous, clear and otherwise unexciting events that occur during my day can be summed up and examined easily. No one looks at the water coming out of a sink faucet and asks, “What is that?” Just like no one asks me whether I have eaten, breathed or remembered to wake up this morning. The water events of my life are involuntary and unavoidable; the cyclical moments in life that pass by almost completely unnoticed. Unless—of course—you forget to breathe; people tend to notice breathing when they’re not doing it.

    You can find water everywhere. Just about eighty percent of the water you need every day for a perfectly hydrated body is gathered by consuming liquid, with the other twenty percent derived out of food. Everything depends on water for survival. It’s the quintessential regulator of life. Without it, nothing would exist on this giant floating orb. Wars have been fought over water. Sinners are baptized in water. The wicked witch of the west melted because of water.

    Living without the everyday normal routines of life would be like living without water. I can’t seem to get by during the day without repeating the functions and actions of previous days. Every aspect of our lives starts with the simple things that we do every time we start a new day. Nothing would have ever been if it weren’t for the watery things of life.


    Tea is darker, a little bitter and caffeinated. My tea moments are when I realize that all of my monthly bills are out of the way. There is that semblance of satisfaction; that air of relief that I get to go through the rest of the month without a late fee hanging over my head.

    I have to eat every day. My dogs have to eat every day too. There are a lot of little activities in my life that have a little tea in them. In order to get anything done that can’t be done at the house I have to drive. Driving takes gas and so I oblige and throw some go juice in my tank and carry on with my commute. Most tea things are the things that you don’t want to do but find yourself having to. Going to work, going to school and sitting through a slow and life-draining lecture are some more great examples.

    Not everything tea is bad. When the daily necessities are out of the way, I find time to watch a movie or do some online window shopping and look at things I’ll never own. Okay, well I guess that last thing was kind of bad, but it’s still better than a bone-dry lecture.


    Get that sugar rush, that sharp CO2 sting in the back of your throat and ride out the excitement. Soda things get your heart racing and your stomach fluttering. The first time I rode a motorcycle, I was nothing but nervous laughter and excited smiles. I love the feeling of gear shifting, throttling up under bridges and scaring the shit out of old people when I rev-up past them. Soda is like finding a restaurant that makes your nostrils stuffed with rich, sensational aromas and your mouth drool. Every time I get the chance to talk to my girlfriend I get excited. I love to hear from her, and the things we talk about…well, you can use your imagination.

    Soda is passing an exam, getting a raise at work, going on vacation to the destination of your dreams and escaping the confines of your tea and water days. There is a happy medium. The dull is gone, but it’s not so intense that you lose control; it’s just happiness.

    Every once in a while, Netflix puts a really good movie on the watch instant queue; that’s a great soda moment. Moments where the world brightens up, you laugh and smile and fill up with excitement, those are all soda.

    • The first time I ever rode the Top-thrill Dragster at Cedar Point, I sat up front in the first seat.
    • Once, I ate at an Indian cuisine restaurant that had tandoori chicken so delicious, it would make your tongue beat your brains out.
    • I love the Indiana Jones ride at Walt Disney Land.
    • The first time I saw the movie Kung-Pow, the part where the baby rolled down the mountain side for two minutes made me laugh for a half-hour straight. I had to leave the room.


    There always seems to be a lot of beer things in people’s lives. I have had a large quantity of beer, in this regard. Beer things are those constant larger stresses that seem to loom over me and make my throat twist into knots, my head throb and race with uncomfortable thoughts and my heart pound like a violent drum. Like the liquid beer, having enough beer things makes me numb, robotic and emotionless.

    The monthly bills that weigh heavy on my mind and even heavier on my bank account can be a beer. Beer is taking on the expense of eating. I know that in order to eat, I’ll have to take my money out and pay for it. Unfortunately, I have to find some means of getting there, so forking out the cash (which with my car is an indeterminately large amount) to fill up my gas tank creates the stench of beer.

    The gas in my car tank is never enough. Because my car is a fossil, I have to set aside—which I often cannot—the money for all of my car repairs. Leaky oil here, bald tire there; my poorly performing engine reaching its twilight years and warning me with a laborious sounding clinking noise are part of my beer life.

    Sometimes I feel that my bank account has a torn seam and all of the money is falling out of the hole. I watch my money blow away in the breeze and although the bills get paid, I haven’t enough money left to pay attention. The constant howling of my emaciated bank account rings in my ears and distracts me during school. I suffer in my classes. I have to make sacrifices and live up to the consequences of them. These are some of my beer moments.

    Eventually, when I’ve had too many beers, I hollow out. I can feel them thinning my blood and robbing my brain of cognitive thought. I stumble around numbly and the expression leaves my face. I feel like a stone; hard and devoid of soul. When I wake up, I have that filmy, hairy feeling on my teeth and no matter how hard I brush, others can still smell the beer on my breath. They smell the beer squeezing its way out of my pores and staining through my clothes.

    • I’ve had to skip days of classes so I could have gas to drive to a Friday exam.
    • There have been times where the only food I could afford was spaghetti noodles, which ended up becoming my breakfast, lunch and dinner for days at a time. Noodles and water; it’s not the most nourishing meal in the world.
    • Some months, I have had to neglect a monthly bill—like the internet—in order to get a couple skimpy bags of groceries to keep me fed.


    Liquor is extremely poisonous. Every shot of liquor goes down just as hard as the previous. It burns the throat and nose, makes your eyes water and your skin shiver. Liquor moments are the really hard ones; the moments that make you grind your teeth and question your faith. Liquor rocks your foundation and throttles every part of you.

    I have had a lot of these moments. Back in 2007, my son was born. Not too many people are aware of my father status, but the few who are know why the others don’t. My son was born into a false marriage. Sometimes—when you’re young—you do things without a lot of thought, because you just want to give what you believe is best. I married my son’s mother in an attempt to create a strong family image for him. I liked his mother well enough; I just didn’t think getting married at twenty was the greatest idea. Sometimes you have to sacrifice your great ideas when a child you’re responsible for becomes top priority.

    Long story short, the marriage failed. We ended up in different states and since splitting my child in half wasn’t an option, he went to mommy in a verbal agreement that I would get to see him regularly. Two years of court battles later, I fail to get any sort of custodial rights and now—as far as I know—my son is a five year old with no real memory that he has a biological father.

    Most people think that if you want something bad enough, you can achieve that. It’s not the case with everything. There are a lot of the “what the fuck?” moments in life. Those are liquor moments. Those are the times when the world stops making any sense and your guts are on fire. You try to reject the poison and piss everything out of your body, eventually losing it all.

    • When deposition was taken by my attorney, proof showed that my ex had been lying profusely to the judge on just about everything. I thought my custody case would be a slam dunk…I was wrong.
    • I have gone for an entire week eating ice cubes and drinking water because I was flat broke and had no food. When your family lives two-hundred miles away, stopping at mom’s kitchen for a snack is impossible to do.
    • I have debts in collections after I took student loans to fight a two year custody battle in court. The best part was I had to drive to Tennessee every time.
    • I’ve had more friends and relatives die than I have fingers to count.


    If taken the time to think about it, there is one thing that all of the liquids of my life have in common. There is that one element that is present for everything: Water. The liquids of life are brought—inescapably—with the watery things that keep us alive. You can’t exist without the daily necessities and you can’t escape all of the teas, sodas, beers and liquors if you willingly continue to exist.

    You don’t get served your drink all of the time. So you can take hope in the thought that at certain points throughout your life, you have enough change in your pocket to look at somebody and say, “The next round is on me.” There are even times when you get to decide what your next drink becomes. Those times come rarely, but when they do, I choose the fanciest glass of Dr. Pepper I can afford, and when I don’t get to choose, I’ll pour another glass of whatever is on my table and— for lack of a better phrase—drink to my health.
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