Young Man, Old Bill

30 days he said in the room, thats how far I have come. It feels like eternity as I sit back in this chair waiting for the right opportunity to give a share - a bit of knowledge I feel I amassed. See, I am the clever one in this room. The mighty lion who has conquered addiction without affliction, everyone should listen to my roar. Young woman only 3 days clean sits back, glued to her fucking Samsung flip phone screen. She isn't even clean, nor serene, taking up a seat in the den and eats, where all the real addicts meet. 

Im sleeping well, with my emotions at bay - easily finding my way to every meetings across the town. I find the winners, or so I think, but they'll probably relapse as they are not as smart as me. I thank baby Jesus, God, or whatever is thee - give over  my self will, and see that higher power be. 

Presently content and innately perturbed, confused why no one is talking to me. No coffee invites, sponsors, or suggestions about new great TV. While I sit patiently for my time to speak, for everyone to sit back and notice me; I twiddle my fingers at the commiserated nonsense, who better than I? 

Each story of misery, plotted and twists, sitting with abated breath and clenching fists -  Is life all that bad huh? You need a drink. You left all your family to ponder and think. While your kids did their homework and fastened a meal, you drank and you drank until you couldn't feel. So what they're older, they've stopped talking to you now, your sons a divorced heroin addict and daughter a Munchausen syndrome cow. You made a choice just like to be here today, pissed, drank, fucked, shot up everything away. 

I'm not as bad as you, I can safely confide, since i only drank myself to hanging and nearly died. Im alive in this room as I look at these two buffoons - sipping decaf coffee counting years of loneliness reciting prayers to be on the offence. You cannot be serious, taking advice from the hacks, ripped * stretched shirts and outdated pleated slacks. See I have 30 days in these rooms and they should be thanking me, for all the advice that I can bring with blissful glee. 

Its just then it struck me what my purpose must be, alone with my 30 day chip, I can clearly see. That all these poor saps are just like me - a different number in their pocket and a crippling decree. Do not take that first drink they say, or you'll end up like me, a drunk washed up punk - the universal wannabe. 

So just for today I take a seat, 30 days clean, bitter and serene. Listen to the drunks, the liars and the defeated, like looking into a mirror, this is what I needed.