Manifesto of the Indefinitely Wasted Man

The party is the universal opiate of our generation.  It affords a person the ability to walk away from the responsibilities of their daily life, if only for an evening, and to engage in some questionable debauchery the likes of which they would ordinarily shy away from.  Then, when everything is said and done, this person can return to their normal lifestyle, expunged of their pent up stresses and misgivings, ready to face the world again with a renewed sense of vigor.  The entire experience can easily be called “therapeutic,” and an ordinary person will engage in such activities anywhere from once a week to once every few months as a means of relaxation or thrill seeking.  We are not these people, and we never will be.

We are the people who suck alcohol down religiously, a constant flow of cheap domestic beer always cascading through our systems, hard alcohol nipping at its heels.  Hard drugs that we never imaged being around as children have become a casual pleasure, engaged in with little regard paid to possible negative repercussions.   We are the people you see at party after party leaving with a different girl, or set of girls, each and every night.  We have relationships, but they never last, and verbally we’ll slur a philosophy somewhere along the lines of “why by the cow…” as we set our sights on yet another used up floozy.  We frequently miss our classes, pulling a C average if we’re lucky enough to be able to withdraw from the subjects we just plain never attended.  We have jobs, but never for long, and those of us that suffer the consequences of the dreaded DUI will have to deal with a whole new proverbial barrel of monkeys on into the future.

Ultimately, we are developing alcohol and relationship related issues that will stay with us long into the future.  We’re harming our bodies and minds in a self destructive orgy of heavy drinking, poor eating habits, and loose sexual practices.  And yet, these are really the best years of our lives.  We get to experience a small slice of excitement that many people only hear about, and we do so with no regrets or misgivings.  Twenty years from now, when we’re working a dead end job, locked into a lifestyle we swore we would never accept, and dealing with the issues of a family we never thought we would have, we’ll likely look back and envy our youthful exploits of old.  We’ll envy the excitement and the chaos that we got to experience, and we’ll wish we could turn back time and be the promiscuous rebels that we felt we once were.  Savor the here and now, because the future holds very little for most of us, and just like our state of inebriation any given night of the week, all of our talents, ambitions, and pursuits, will be indefinitely wasted.