A Story of Black Beer and Black Water
Today marks the first day I've been drunk, ever. It was a family gathering for dinner, and my aunt hauled in a barrel of German black beer (4.8% alcohol). Its taste was incomparable to the standard American golden beer, and I was in love. I planned to develop a higher alcohol tolerance in the summer before university, and this was a perfect opportunity.
So within the two hours of the meal, I downed 5 tall glasses of that Coke-coloured black beer. Around the third or fourth, my relatives laughed at my reddening complexion. I touched my cheek with my palm, and was surprised to find it quite warm. I went to the bathroom and did a quick full body check. My eyes were a little red in addition to my flushed face, but the rest of my body felt fine. So this was the "Asian Glow". My mind was still clear, and I didn't feel any different besides my feverish face.
But slowly, I felt a little headache throbbing, not in the usual place near the sides of my head, but this headache was a deep discomfort that resonated from the very centre of my head. It was uncomfortable, but not unbearable, and I forgot about it on and off throughout the evening.
As I played with my cousins--three girls aged 3, 8, and 14--I found myself laughing more often. I had more energy than usual, similar to that electricity that shoots through the body when one runs at night. I had wild desires to pick up my cousins, squeeze them tight, and spin them around in the air. I hummed tunes I hadn't thought about in years. I knew a little part of my consciousness was disapproving of my eccentricity, as I'm usually calm and quiet. I could feel her crossing her arms and shaking her head slowly, an exasperated smile on her lips. But I couldn't stop myself, or rather, I didn't want to. I made no attempt to consciously grasp my serious self, and instead, I laughed and smiled with people that I could finally call family.
But there was a fear. A fear that was like black water that pooled at my ankles, threatening to rise up and swallow me. While I was in an airy high, I could feel her watching me, peeking through her fingers, but at the same time I felt that black water. It was strange to feel three things all at once, but I didn't question it at the time. The water sloshed at my feet, creeping slowly, like falling pitch. "This lack of control over yourself," it whispered, "What if in the future you lose control at a higher intensity--then do things you'll regret? You're weak." I tried to push it away like I pushed away her, but no one can push water. My fingers just slipped through. The entire evening, the fear reminded me that there is a danger with this feeling, with alcohol. But with the future so poorly lit and unpredictable, I suppose it's for my own good to be cautious.
On the car ride home, I sat in the back seat and rolled the window all the way down. I stuck my head and fingers out and let the wind blow on my warm face. Shanghai has always been generous with lighting; every single building, high and low, was brightly decorated in lights of all colours. With quiet radio music playing in the background, I looked at the lights flashing by in silence. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that I spent the whole day reading Murakami, or I was just particularly content this evening, but there was something surreal about the moment. I felt the lines between reality and fiction blur until I wasn't sure if any of it was real. "This," I told myself as the wind combed my hair back, "This moment is what you need to remember. The colour and sounds and smells of this enormous city. The city that could swallow you and never spit you out again. This feeling of blurring the line between what is real and what is all in your head."
Walking up to the apartment I call home, I looked up at the darkness overhead. A few dim stars shone feebly, and if I squinted carefully, I could swear I could see another hundred in the darkness. But if I blinked and looked again, they'd be gone. I thought about light pollution and then about what it'd be like to sit at the bottom of a deep, dry well. This made me smile. It was finally starting to feel like summer.