Maybe it's inside the bottle....

There is just something about being with a completely drunk person that makes me feel so alone.

I don't drink. When I do, it's on an occasion and I normally have something tame or maybe one cocktail. When I have been drunk, I never felt like it was fun. I never seemed to enjoy the free sensation that others do. I became violent or depressed, and bad things happened.

I don't really care, I was never one for the taste of alcohol and I certainly have other things that need money spent on them.

The annoying part, or maybe depressing part about not drinking is that you never really fit in at parties. People lump you with pedestrian tasks like watching out for drunks and ensuring no one dies on their own vomit, while they shun their own responsibilities. You laugh along with co-worker's jokes about getting wine and chocolate after a hard day. Aaand more often than not, the drunks ignore you except to comment on how drunk they are or ask why you aren't drinking.

Even if they do have a conversation with you, they talk over you, they're loud, and they change topics quicker than a hummingbird changing directions. Like it matters, they won't remember a thing they said. They probably won't even remember you were there, and they'll tell you all of their best jokes from the night again, like you didn't already hear it over the flecks of spittle and clouds of beer breath zooming your way.

It just makes me feel so invisible.. especially when it's someone I care about. 

Dreams of a feather... create questions together.

So last night I had the messed up most vividest dream I've had in a while.

I was at work (generic scream sound effect)

but I wasn't in my usual workplace. It was, in theory, I guess, but instead of my usual desk I had the lift up desk from my primary school and it was in the middle of a department store. There were salesmen walking the floor, between the racks of clothing that separated me from my co-workers, but they don't interact with me. I didn't even have a phone installed, or a computer. My supervisor is there, but keeps talking to me about non work related topics in a really chirpy, yet disembodied way.

Not really sure how they expected me to work but anyway, I log off early to go to lunch but realise later that I forgot my lunchbox and my ID tag to get back into the building. I also realise that my current workplace is actually in a previous work environment, which was a water park. Where I was was more behind the scenes though, so no slides for me. I don't seem to mind either way?

Sitting down on a bench, I look up at some chirping birds on a tree branch overhead and realise that one of them is an Indian Ringneck parrot. In case you aren't aware, they aren't native to Australia and they don't usually chill with pigeons or doves. So I realise that it must be someone's pet and lost, at that. I go to take a photo of it on my phone but the camera won't focus.

indianringneck.com

The bird falls out of the tree and I catch it. It's the same colour blue as a pair of one of my socks. The bird bites me, but doesn't make any real effort to get away from me. I realise it's wounded. The bird accepts a stroke on the back while I whisper soothing words to it. It looks like just the wing but as I hold it up to get a better look it starts vomiting blood.