02-10-2020, 04:50 AM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; color: #494949; font-family: karla; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 0.2px; word-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 10px;"] every now and again , rory could enjoy a drink or two , but he did know his limits. and quite often did he abide by those limits , as he had no intention on becoming the abrasive piece of shit his father was. that's not to say he ever had , no , not at the very least . rory could count on fingers the times he'd gotten drunk , two being in the presence of himself ( while experimenting ) and the other two being in the presence of holland. all four times , in no sense , were angry like his father but . . . rather pathetic.
he'd rather not reminisce the first time he'd gotten drunk with holland. coped up in a barn . back and forth they exchanged the bottle as rory went from cracking jokes to nearly cracking the bottle , body trembling with the sobs he could no longer withhold. it'd been the first time in awhile he'd shown that much emotion in relation to his past. even after witnessing his mother's death , he isn't really sure on whether he'd cried this much. "life's not fair," he'd restate again and again. holland listened. once , he'd been comforted by his silence. not he can't even bare to be in the same room with him.
all in all , he wasn't betting on another recount of that , with him being in a group and all. it all boiled down to this: those who relied on alcohol as an escape, a coping mechanism, were just too pussy to face a world unwilling to cater to them. simple. shit wasn't working his way , but when does it these days ? fighting with damien wouldn't be his first and yet it was different . maybe it was just the fact that everything seemed to build at once , or maybe it was the reprecussions he faced for something someone else did , but it leads to some stupid decisions.
whatever moral compass he had was thrown out the window in trade for a bottle . at first , it's only meant to be a glass . but one glass turns into two until he's disposing of the glass itself in trade for the whole bottle. rory may not know his limits , but he knows what he's doing at that particular moment . drowning out the noise of his thoughts until he nearly collapses onto the kitchen floor alongside his dog oakley , regurgitating the same ol' ' life ain't fair ' shit. dogs ... they were good , though. they were loyal. unlike holland , they wouldn't leave.
"sometimes i just feel like i'm destined to be forever fucking alone or something." he slurred . he stares the ceiling as the room spins , making him dizzy. oakley closes in on rory , nudging him softly with his nose . the most loving gesture he's received in years . maybe this was who he was meant to be : a one-man rodeo with the exception of his dog. rory attempts to lift his head , but to no surprise fails. he settles back into his dizzying state with an exasperated sigh.
"you're the only motherfucker in this world that can handle me."
he'd rather not reminisce the first time he'd gotten drunk with holland. coped up in a barn . back and forth they exchanged the bottle as rory went from cracking jokes to nearly cracking the bottle , body trembling with the sobs he could no longer withhold. it'd been the first time in awhile he'd shown that much emotion in relation to his past. even after witnessing his mother's death , he isn't really sure on whether he'd cried this much. "life's not fair," he'd restate again and again. holland listened. once , he'd been comforted by his silence. not he can't even bare to be in the same room with him.
all in all , he wasn't betting on another recount of that , with him being in a group and all. it all boiled down to this: those who relied on alcohol as an escape, a coping mechanism, were just too pussy to face a world unwilling to cater to them. simple. shit wasn't working his way , but when does it these days ? fighting with damien wouldn't be his first and yet it was different . maybe it was just the fact that everything seemed to build at once , or maybe it was the reprecussions he faced for something someone else did , but it leads to some stupid decisions.
whatever moral compass he had was thrown out the window in trade for a bottle . at first , it's only meant to be a glass . but one glass turns into two until he's disposing of the glass itself in trade for the whole bottle. rory may not know his limits , but he knows what he's doing at that particular moment . drowning out the noise of his thoughts until he nearly collapses onto the kitchen floor alongside his dog oakley , regurgitating the same ol' ' life ain't fair ' shit. dogs ... they were good , though. they were loyal. unlike holland , they wouldn't leave.
"sometimes i just feel like i'm destined to be forever fucking alone or something." he slurred . he stares the ceiling as the room spins , making him dizzy. oakley closes in on rory , nudging him softly with his nose . the most loving gesture he's received in years . maybe this was who he was meant to be : a one-man rodeo with the exception of his dog. rory attempts to lift his head , but to no surprise fails. he settles back into his dizzying state with an exasperated sigh.
"you're the only motherfucker in this world that can handle me."