I was 15 when I started to drink. My friends were 16 but they thought they looked 18 (legal age for drinking in the UK) so they surrounded me in the pub to hide my child like appearance and bought me a pale ale which I thought tasted like fag ash but endured because....well peer pressure I guess.

By the time I was 16 I was a regular at several pubs.

By the time I was 18 I was drinking on average 7 to 10 pints of beer a day and about this time, I became jaundiced. The doctor suspected hepatitis B and I was told to stop drinking immediately. It turned out to be a relatively rare syndrome called 'Gilberts' that affects the liver but is not life threatening. After a year of abstinence my drinking resumed, but my thirst was not quite at the same ferocity.

My memory of that time is filled with afternoon drinking in pubs all around London. I used to navigate my way around by knowing where the Pubs were. To this day, afternoon drinking is my favourite pastime. Even though I know I will suffer terrible fatigue and dehydration in the evening. And I have a love for 'old' London Boozers; pubs that have not been made to look like anything over than what they have always looked like for decades. Bare wooden floors. Minimum decoration. Bench seating. Vinyl record player behind the bar for when the piano is not being sat at and played. That sort of thing.

My best friends were borderline alcoholics. One or two had actually crossed the border when I think about it. My best conversations were when drunk. I miss those days. I miss those people. We are poorer versions of ourselves but ironically richer as a consequence.

I have never been one for other drugs. The odd joint when I was much younger, but I was always given the joints as gifts, I could never endure the hassle of sourcing weed from a dealer. My memory of smoking weed (I haven't done so in many many years) is that it was a drunk like buzz without the gut swelling fullness of drinking ale. I saw the Canadian band 'Rush' at Wembley Arena while high on weed and can remember nothing but being told to stop standing on my chair. And the drum solo. I do remember coming out of the gig and getting on a bus that I had no idea where it went. I thought it didn't really matter until I was completely lost on the wrong side of town. I got off and walked for a couple of miles before I found a tube station and managed to get home that way. My younger self was quite stupid. My older self is also quite stupid. There may be a link.

ROLL FILM

The film starts with a montage of sexual images along with the soundtrack from the beginning of 'Trainspotting' where Renton utters the immortal lines:

"Choose Life, Choose a job, Choose a career, Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments, choose leisurewear and matching luggage, Choose friends, Choose your future, Choose life"

Girl shouting at the camera: "Sick motherfucker"

TITLES

Man shouting into the face of girl with mouth taped shut: "Keep it quiet now"

Girl: "Bitch..."

Images of doors closing

Cut to beginning of 'Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas'

Benico del Toro as Dr Gonzo and Johnny Depp as Raoul Duke are driving down the desert highway high

on mescaline. They pass a hitch-hiker (Toby Maguire).

Dr Gonzo (Driving): "Lets give the boy a liB"

Raoul Duke (looking around): "We can't stop here. This is bat country"

VAKUUM

(Mendacity and Aphorisms...great words)

Car screeches to a halt

Hitch-hiker: "Hot Damn, Ive never rode a converJble before"

Cut to black

'Old Glory' by Seth Anderson starts to play

(Not heard this before. Fits perfectly)

A grainy slowed down video with washed out yellow hued colours of Missy in a palm tree laden garden appears. Missy is naked and walking towards the camera.

Missy walks onto a blanket. We can only see her shins at this point.

Missy kneels down and rests on her elbows. We are looking at a side view of her.

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Missy kneels down and rests on her elbows. We are looking at a side view of her.

Cut to shot of Missy's Face looking down at the camera

Missy puts on her sunglasses

Missy's hair forms a tunnel for her face and whips around in the breeze, sometimes obscuring her.

Missy disappears from view for a bit then reappears standing up looking down at the camera

Missy shuffles forward so we see her naked body from the viewpoint of someone laying on the ground looking up at her between her parted legs

Now all we can see is Missy's sex

Missy covers her sex with her hands and moves so we can see the rest of her again

Missy moves her hips forward again to bring her sex into view and we see her fingers moving to spread

herself to the camera.

Swaying Missy continues to spread herself intentionally for the camera

(Not sure what you mean here)

Missy stops releases herself, pulling her hands away from her sex.

(This I understand and agree)

Missy starts to lean over the camera possibly kneeling again. We see a close up of her midriff as she

does so.

She starts to rise up again, bringing her sex back into view between her legs.

Missy pulls back again so she starts to go out of view of the camera.

Missy leans in to show us her breasts. Whether her nipples are hardened by arousal or cool breeze...or

both...we can only speculate.

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(I think I get what you mean here...I think when you are drunk you exist only internally...The body

becomes a vessel for drink and is not considered)

Missy appears to be kneeling over the camera. She is swaying backwards and forwards as the camera

looks up at her abdomen and chest.

(More on the perception of time later)

Missy crawls over the camera, so her navel comes into view, then her sex.

Missy backs herself up over the camera, so her navel comes back into view.

(Was it full to begin with? If so, that would be close to fatal)

Missy's face and breasts enter the shot. Missy is staring at the camera. She straitens up and runs her

fingers through her hair.

The following poem is told with close ups of Missy's face. She is smiling. Either looking directly into the

lens or with eyes closed. Her hands sometimes frame her face. We see the blanked behind her, so she

has picked up the camera and is now holding it above her as she lies facing the sky.

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The following poem is told with close ups of Missy's face. She is smiling. Either looking directly into the

lens or with eyes closed. Her hands sometimes frame her face. We see the blanked behind her, so she

has picked up the camera and is now holding it above her as she lies facing the sky.

Fade to black

Cut to sepia toned black and white photo of Missy and three unidentified women on a night out.

Fade to black

Fade to image of Man lying on the floor. We see his back and the fridge door open. It is Nicholas Cage as

Ben Sanderson from 'Leaving Las Vegas'.

We see Elizabeth Shue as Sera (the prostitute) taking a bite of pizza watching him. He fingers the

wedding ring on his hand as he internally questions himself.

(At least I surmise it is her...I have not seen the film and it is hard to tell)

Cut to blonde teller in the bank.

Teller: "Next please"

Ben: "Hi"

Teller: "Hi"

Ben is restless. He drops a cheque onto the desk as he hops from foot to foot. The blonde teller picks up

the cheque and glances down at it. Starting to type into her computer.

Teller: "One moment sir"

Ben folds his arms over himself closing his eyes. He is clearly suffering from alcohol withdrawal. He is

trying hard not to shake and tremble.

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Ben folds his arms over himself closing his eyes. He is clearly suffering from alcohol withdrawal. He is

trying hard not to shake and tremble.

Teller: "Can you sign the back of the cheque please?"

Ben (holding his breath): "C...C....Can't you just cash it in as it is?"

Teller: "I'm sorry sir, is there a problem?"

Ben grimaces but tries to smile. He starts to visibly shake. He reaches for a pen.

Ben (breathlessly) : "To tell you the truth, I'm a liNle shaky right now...I had brain surgery....why don't I go

and get some lunch....and then err...well come back and take care of it then...."

He picks up the cheque and leaves.

Cut to Ben in a bar talking to the barman

Ben: "I think when I am finished with this, I'll have a gin and tonic"

Barman: "Do you know what Jme it is? (Scoffs) you should be drinking coffee. You're a young guy (laughs) its

none of my business.....but......if you could see what I see...you wouldn't be doing this to yourself"

Ben: "I understand what you're saying...I appreciate your concern....it's not my intenJon to make you

uncomfortable...(geSng breathless)...please serve me today...and I'll never come in here again...if I do..you

can 86 me"

Barman (shouting and jabbing a finger at Ben): "Stop fucking with me...I can 86 you anyJme I want to".

Barman huffs and goes off to make Ben his drink

Barman (laughing): "Ben....I don't give a fuck what you do..that one's on the house"

Teller: "really?"

Ben: "yeah...it was preNy scary too"

Teller: "did you have a lot of bandages"

Ben: "just a liNle bit"

Cut to Ben talking to dictaphone in the bank line with people watching him

Ben: "Are you desirable?...Are you irresisJble?...maybe if you drank bourbon with me it would help... maybe if

you kissed me and I could taste the sJng in your mouth it would help...if you drank bourbon with me

naked...if you smelled of bourbon as you fucked me...it would help...it would increase my esteem for you....if

you poured bourbon on your naked body and said to me...drink this... if you spread your legs and you had

bourbon dripping from your breasts... and your pussy...and said drink here...then...I could fall in love with

you...because then...I would have a purpose...to clean you up and that...that....that....would prove that I'm

worth something...I'd lick you clean...so that you could go away and fuck someone else".

Cut to Ben and Sera sitting at the dining table. Ben sips a glass of colourless liquid. Sera eats and looks

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worth something...I'd lick you clean...so that you could go away and fuck someone else".

Cut to Ben and Sera sitting at the dining table. Ben sips a glass of colourless liquid. Sera eats and looks

at Ben.

Sera: "I want you to see a doctor"

Ben (clearly drunk): "Sera...I'm not going to see a doctor"

Fade to black

Fade to Sera sitting on a bed. Sera's voiceover saying: "I think the thing is..."

Sera: "we both realised we didn't have that much Jme...and...I accepted him for who he was and I didn't

expect him to change..."

Sara: "and I think he felt that for me too...I liked his drama...and he needed me...I loved him..."

Fade to black

(Something tells me that John was not motivated by money, but perhaps if he had been, it would have

turned out differently)

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Photo of John O'Brien appears titled:

1960-1994

END

This is a very sad tale and that I was unaware of. It makes me conscious that my tales of early alcohol

consumption may be construed as flippant in comparison to the dark slide into death by addiction

suffered by John/Ben. Alcoholism is (principally) a working class disease, used by those with lives to

forget, to help them do so.

I have seen 'Trainspotting' but both 'Fear and Loathing' and 'Leaving Las Vegas' have passed me by.

I speculated in my last correspondence that escapism shortens your perception of time: Time is just a

construct. A set of scientific units to measure history. But the passing of time is measured in our heads

differently. We measure time in our heads with memories.

The lost time spent drunk or high or both is a flatline in our memories. It doesn't exist. We therefore

have no concept of time when we are drunk or high. We just crave the next fix as we drift along in

temporary bliss. We also are vaguely aware that when the bliss is over, reality will crash in on us in

horrible ways, but at that point we are immortal. It does not matter. Life will be short, but we are ok

with that. Chemicals at work.

Another great film Missy. The eroticism of the middle section (explaining your experience of writing

poetry whilst drunk) was jarring as you intended. I found myself trying to hear the words to 'Old Glory',

while reading your poem and staring at your fingers. The brain is not designed for such tasks.

Keep doing what you do. Stay sober.

X

A

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