[15] Back To Alaska [Part 2]

Garth Brook – I Got Friends In Low Places.

We ended the previous installment when I moved in with Samoa. I believe, at the time of move-in, only one MTF lived with him – the one who’d, twice, intentionally walked in on me showering. Shortly after moving in, a second MTF arrived on the island, and lived with us. Eventually, myself and the trannies ended up sharing a room which may have been smaller than 10×10 feet; we only ever slept in it, of course.

Why Samoa was on the island, I do not know. He regularly worked, operating heavy machinery, for the man whom managed the village’s simplistic infrastructure – perhaps Samoa was there primarily for work. The trannies, it seemed, were family by association, and lived where Samoa lived, but I don’t know.

Over the next few months, the four of us spent most of our time drinking very heavily together. I can’t be certain, as that period of time is frankly a blur, but we may have drank heavily every day. Ontop of the large amounts we drank, we also only had dirt-cheap vodka and whiskey. I retain a severe distaste for any whiskey, to this day, due to that experience – but I love vodka.

Everything was brought to the island by bush-plane, thus the shipping charges, determined by weight, were very high; so we had to economize by exclusively drinking hard-liquor, otherwise we couldn’t afford the copious amounts of booze and cigarettes. Though we did, a few times, make “wine” using 5-gallon buckets, yeast, sugar, and canned fruit; it wasn’t bad, and it got us drunk.

We mostly drank at night, with us going about our individual business during the day, but we also did plenty of all-day drinking. Most people, hearing that we spent our time thusly, would think ill of it. But you have to understand that we lived a rural life, and had no real demands on our time or energy.

So, we could simply get as drunk as we wanted, and it would have no real impact on our lives; and being robust people, there was relatively little physical and mental detriment. We lived on an arctic island, in the middle of no where, without substantial bills to pay, without TV or internet; there was simply nothing else to do but enjoy each other’s company – and that’s often far better when drunk.

And while most people associate severe drinking with stupidity, violence, and abusive behavior, we were absolutely nothing like that. We were simply bored. So we drank, told stories, talked shit, listened to music [Samoan music is awesome], and regularly found something crazy to do for fun; all our interactions were far more genial than I’ve experienced elsewhere, and that’s not exclusively due to the alcohol’s influence on us – we were all very good-natured people.

We usually ate a great deal while drinking, aswellas keeping to a rule that we took a glass of water with each shot. So, we ate, we drank, we chain-smoked, then we wandered around that frozen shithole of an island doing crazy shit, went to sleep, and did it again the next day. It was tremendous fun, and the most genuinely familial, warm, and loving socializing I’ve had [though my Grandmother was loving, she was somewhat distant].

When the others were busy during the day, I’d wander around the island or play with the other kids, with my dog constantly following; I always had my smokes, and often had my rifle. Likely due to previously living in Alaska, I derive a great deal of mental peace from extreme colds, so I wandered regularly. And the kids were always up to something fun, plus one girl was flirting with me, though it was innocent.

As stated in the previous installment, at this moment, I don’t especially want to go over all the stories of fun and crazy shit we did. For now, I’ll say that I had a shitton of fun with both my “adopted” family, and the kids on the island. Frankly, It was all very beneficial to my mental state – even the alcohol.

Throughout, I was plagued by the stresses of my life, my mind being very unstable, the heartbreak from First and Robber, trying to figure out life in general [I was reading “The Republic” and other random philosophy while doing a allot of thinking], etc. The constant and fun distractions helped. Oh, and I only briefly smoked that marijuana my mother gave me, as I flushed it down the toilet in thoughtless panic, when some form of police officer came to the island.

I suppose that I should mention my relationship with the trannies, since people are so obsessed with gender these days. We were like siblings, basically. Simple as that. We loved each other, had fun, helped each other. Of course, when we were drunk, they’d try hard to get me to fuck them. But it was all in good fun. And they never tried when we were in our room together, as they understood that would be inappropriate.

This period of my life ended when Samoa’s wife, whom moved in with us shortly before my leaving, got into some trouble with the natives. Essentially, to avoid further trouble, I was denied liquor – remember that I was 15 at the time. The others would slip me some when Samoa’s wife wasn’t around, though; they would even hide it around the house, just for me. Love those bastards.

Without being as equally hammered as my adopted family, I was denied sharing their fun – and they cut back so as not to insult me, so things were less fun in general. With my actual family gone, Robber and I separated, and no more drunken debauchery, there wasn’t much left to do on the island. Thus, I called my Grandmother, got a ticket back home, regrettably left my dog, and began the most important period of my life.

Ah, I should probably mention that I never actually developed alcoholism. Hell, I don’t even like the stuff; left to my own devices, I have a beer every couple of months. Though, when I’m very depressed, I’ll get hammered once or twice… hoping to return to those better times, I suppose. Interesting, I can become a heavy “social drinker” in the right company, but I always return to sobriety when alone.


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~ by Louis Naughtic on November 24, 2016.

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