Dear World – Drink And Drugs

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Yn Gymraeg

Warning – There is some swearing in this one. So if you get offended by any word that is stronger than fiddlesticks, then you may not approve of the language of this article. It is not meant to offend, so please take it as it comes. Thanks for reading, and enjoy the rest of this post.

Dear World.

As you may know, if you have read my last letter to you, that I am in my final year of the stage which is known as ‘the teenage years’. And, if you are one who reads many newspapers and consider them gospel, I am a teenage minority.


Well, for one, I do not smoke (drugs or normal cigarettes). And for two (if that is even a proper saying), I do not drink alcohol.

The first one may not be as shocking than the second, if you can call it ‘shocking’. I understand that not all teenagers smoke. Though, even though its illegal for someone under the age of sixteen (correct me if I’m wrong) to buy cigarettes, it still seems like the fashionable thing to do.

Maybe people might think its a form of rebellion. You can’t control me or what I breathe in, says the young girl, maybe called Simone, as she sucks in another breathe filled with carbon and nicotine. Fight the power, a young man, possibly named Jason, as he rolls up his third cigarette in half an hour. And as they smoke their way into the bad books of their parents, and coincidentally their potential cause of death, they seem content in their belief that they are fighting the right to party.

Maybe it’s the same with alcohol. Either that or peer pressure.

I’ve somewhat witnessed peer pressure first hand. Especially with alcohol. I went to a party, it was the first one I went to during my time studying for my A Levels. Everyone (well, nearly everyone) asked me why I wasn’t drinking. Foolishly, I said that I don’t drink. That response brought different reactions.

        – Some, though a minority, accepted this fact, and continued to talk to me, or went off on their merry way.
        – Others were shocked, and began to bombard me with questions such as ‘why?’ and ‘what, your parents don’t want you pissed?’.
        – While some, who were most likely male, just offered me a sip of their drink, repeating the statement ‘go on, go on’.

Granted, the reason why these sort of parties were held were to bring everyone in the sixth form, through the medium of Welsh. No, I lie, it was through the medium of drink, and I don’t mean with tea and scones. At first, they called them ‘Parti Bondio’ – which many a sixth former called ‘Parti Boncio’, even if there is nothing of that sort happening in these parties. During my last year at school, they began to call it ‘Parti Piss-up’, as there was no bonding going along, so they just went to get drunk.

Why did I say the last bit? No idea. Was it a way to prove a point that all teenagers can think of getting slaughtered (in the alcoholic sense) and deluding themselves in thinking they are having a good time? Maybe. But I do not know.

But I know one thing, many use alcohol as an excuse. Or, more likely, people use different occasions and situations to consume alcohol. And it makes me think, why would the people drink to make themselves happier?

I mean, isn’t alcohol a depressant?

I’ve heard many a claim that alcohol calms you down, gets you in the mood and gives you confidence. That last sentence makes no sense to me. Maybe there is a placebo effect going on, like they think the alcohol is giving them confidence and such actually gaining confidence, though the alcohol hasn’t done anything to their confidence. But that is just my opinion, World.

As I write this, my thoughts go back to a few years back, to a time where I was halfway through studying for my GCSE grades.

I was on the way home, traveling on the joyous modes of transport known as a school bus, and I was in mid conversation with some girls (who were a few years younger than me). And somehow, the conversation got to drink. When I stated that I do not drink, the girls were shocked, like it became a sin to be sober.

I began to feel out of place, for my choice to be sober. I felt like a bunch of young girls were looking down at me for deciding against a life with alcohol.

Why must things like this happen? Seriously?

Shouldn’t we all respect each other’s decisions in life?

Answers in the comment area, please.

I wish I could elaborate further, but I have half a box of Celebrations left, and I fear that some of my family members are eyeing them up.

I thank ye, world.

Past articles in this series include one on Guitar Hero and Death.


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