Alcoholics & hypochondriacs

If I described to anyone what I’ve witnessed in the last couple of days…or weeks…or even months…they’d ask me if I was talking films.

most recently.

Life put me in the same room with a raging alcoholic, a hypochondriac (that may or may not have an eating disorder), someone with the patience of a 2 year old and a manic photo enforcer.

I was in pure hell. On the second night, I joined the alcoholic…I needed to take the edge off. 6 shots of ‘3 generation tequila’ later and my spirit had descended to meet my ancestors. Finally, I began to feel like I could stand everyone.

I agreed to take pictures, I agreed to run around, drink and I even prescribed my hypochondriac friend a supplement for her many ailments.

I kept thinking, “well… what can I learn from these people?”

Was this a reflection of me? The music I listen to? What on earth dragged all of us together in the same room.

in the middle of nowhere, Mexico.

I wanted nothing to do with anyone, except of course, the manic photographer. But even he was getting on my last nerve.

For 2 days, we all sat in a circle and discussed the volatile relationships between the alcoholic and a big time designer, bits about the hypochondriac’s list of allergies, ailments, fears and childhood struggles. As she went on, a number of suggestions of “doing something else already” from the impatient…and the need to take a picture of it all by the third.

And what was I doing? Sitting in a rage of course. I was wronged. But for once I didn’t react. I sat through every second of pain asking myself: “what can I learn from this?”

Was this my reflection?

A hypo-fragile addict that is impatient and superficial ?

Or, in the eyes of Don Julio:

A sensitive and passionate tequila drinker that wants more out of life than to just sit and is ultra reflective?


I came for the view.

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