Whisky fuelled rant

It’s three in the morning and I am in the mood for a whisky fuelled free flow of thought. Perhaps I should apologies in advance for my drunken ramblings but I won’t because a) I’m not that drunk and b) it’s my blog and I can write what ever I like.
The Girlf slumbers upstairs, annoyed by my abandonment of her tonight, it vexes her when occasionally life takes precedence over her. My honeyed words fall on deaf ears and, disgruntled, she hurumphs me as I try to cajole and soothe.
Well, sleep my sweet your man had other commitments and duties and your needs are limitless and will have to wait for my attention.
For the last two days I have been reeling from a line I heard at the end of a very good film. A throw away line, cheesy and used for effect but for some reason it ignited something in me. A little spark in the centre of my chest; it energised that kernel of my being. Occasionally you are reminded of the child in you, the dreamer, the visionary you once thought you were.
The day to day drudgery can make you forget. We embrace our boredom and call it contentment. We plod along stupefied and accept it as reality. It is so widespread and ordinary we take solace in it.
Every day I wash up. It’s part of my routine, one of my household chores. On no day do I sod the washing up, jump on a plane and end up in Goa. This would not be part of my routine; this would be out of the ordinary. In fact this would be so out of character for me that the thought to drop my sponge and end up on the other side of the world never crosses my mind.
It could however be possible, I could tear off my rubber gloves and find myself anywhere on the planet within the day. The fire in my chest would allow it. The fire inside me would relish it. That urge, the child’s urge wants to fly to distant stars. It wants to traverse the universe and experience the whole of its majesty.
The enormity of creation overwhelms me; my nothingness compared to all that is crushes my ego and dissipates the self. In my sphere of thought and feeling I am God. I am the only sentience that I’m totally sure of. After all, you could all very well be figments of my imagination.
‘No, no’ you shout, ‘we are all as real as you. Don’t be stupid.’
Your protestations are nought, because, of course, you would say that wouldn’t you? You can’t let me believe that reality is merely here for my convenience. That knowledge would unleash megalomania never before seen, the universe my plaything? No man could be entrusted with such a thought.
Here lies man’s reality. The vastness of everything hems us into our little corner of existence. It would take us tens of thousands of years to travel to the nearest stars, let alone the nearest galaxies. We are trapped in our little corner of space and it is a very little corner relatively speaking.
Confronted with these magnitudes we are prisoners stuck in our cell. We can see through the bars but we can never leave. Trapped by distances scarcely comprehendible, distances that reduce our planet to nothing more than an atom in space. So that in the next hundred years, long after all of us are dead, perhaps people may set foot on Mars, maybe orbit Jupiter, perhaps surf through Saturn’s rings yet these dreams, these aims are those of children, trapped in their parents homes dreaming of the day that they can walk the streets beyond the window alone and un-accompanied. Like the child these dreams are the pinnacle of what we hope to achieve, yet they are small fores into the vastness of space. The child is sent to the shops for milk, humanity lands a manned space craft on Mars.
The whisky as worked its way through my system. I am sober and tired. I yearn for the warmth of my woman’s flesh and the peace of sleep. The comfort of oblivion is calling for the sun will be rising soon and its eight minute old light will keep me awake as it triggers primordial evolutionary responses in my system.
For I am a system, a result of billions of years of false starts and dead ends, billions of years of winding evolution that has resulted in whisky and keyboards, contemplation and need. Eons that have given us love and confusion, wonder and frustration.
Right now I am at the zenith of creation, as you are reading this. All that is has led to this point. You are holding the now in your hands.