I have never liked drinking at home. For me the only point of drinking is if you are then going to do something naughty
June 3, 2016 § Leave a comment
I have never liked drinking at home. For me the only point of drinking is if you are then going to do something naughty, and these days my scope and desire for such naughtiness is severely reduced. I have a revulsion for infidelity, albeit a revulsion that battles with my atavistic hedonistic desire for the old naughtiness. When I do give in and indulge the naughtiness I never enjoy it, and wish I had not, and wonder why I had done it. The desire for naughtiness, then, may still be there, but the capacity to enjoy it has gone. This leaves me in a kind of limbo, the way out of which may lie in the eventual realisation that I am happy.