Surprisingly well this new life has gone. The liquor has not made a tunnel to my mind at all and my nerves have been mostly under control. One time I called my sneaker ”fucking whore” when it refused to suck my foot in, but jumped out of my hands under the table to hide. When the chili vegetables burned in the oven, I dumped that black shit furiously on the stove.
Somehow my nerves are still confused, as if on the alert. I sleep really… not bad, but rather strangely. Last night I fell asleep on the couch at 22 o’clock. I woke up cheery at 2 o’clock. I messed around awake all night and the next day. I fell asleep at 16 o’clock. I woke up at 19 o’clock. I was ready to go again all night, but I fell asleep on the sofa at 24 o’clock. I woke up at 04:30. Since then, I have been awake, tinkering of all kinds.
General Television’s program ”Prism Studio” had a topic about sleeping. The program reported that a man is a diurnal animal who should sleep at night. In addition, the old thing in the program was that drinking alcohol greatly reduced sleep quality.
When I drink, I sleep like lunatic. Although I would drink secretly in my study, Fairy always knows when I have ”popped” at the bottle: in the early hours my drunken mind starts to howl and scream raunchy words (cunt) and sad confessions (my heart is broken).
Those comedians, with whom I have had gig trips and spent nights in the hotel room, are no longer willing to share the room with me. To Mike I am forever a man who sang in my sleep: ”The monster is in the shower”. JP Fabrick scared his pants off, when I got up in the middle of the night, sat up in bed and began to jabber unknown language as if I were possessed. Mr. Birchcape woke up in the hotel room for the fact that I was staring at him murderously and then shouting ”who the fuck are you”.
Don’t you know who the fuck I am? My name is Risto Koo, and I’m an alcoholic.