Resort to the OLD MONK

Irony, like trust can be broken only by someone you trust, like most wine shops do not have wine, only New comers think they know all about it - 'Whiskey doesn't taste good, I love Vodka, only Smirnoff for me'.

As for me I do not love spirited drinks, they are hard to gulp. Beer is better. But somehow I prefer Whiskey over beer.

My sleeping routine is out of order and so I needed alcohol to get it back to normal. Last night I cycled all the way to the Tarams wine shop to find the shutters closed, as early as 10pm! I was disappointed. I messaged all my friends if they had anything in stock and somehow I managed to get an OLD MONK, not something I die for. I hate rums actually. I first tasted rum in an imported chocolate and that's when I started hating it.

I had a night out the previous day and slept only for 4 hours in the afternoon. I purposely slept less so that I feel sleepy at night. I went to bed early last night, at about 12.30am and was fast asleep but an erotic dream woke me up, where I was having sex with a beautiful African girl. I couldn't sleep after that and started writing a book about it in my mind, titled 'Moli, I love you'. Fuck I hate myself, for getting all these cocky ideas. I finished the book by 4am and was still not sleepy. So I decided to go for the OLD MONK. With 1/4 coffee cup of rum and some coke, I gulped everything in in one lengthy sip, feeling the spirit come out of my nose. I took a deep twitchy breath after it was over, switched off the lights and went back to sleep. Generally this much of alcohol gets me giddy, enough to fall back to sleep. Tossing and turning become a nauseatic journey and so I stay still in savasana waiting for sleep to take me in.

On sleepless nights, when the shutters of the rustiest wine shop has closed for you, and you have no alternative but to resort to OLD MONK, Just do it. Atleast you will become insensitive to mosquito bites.