drinking

You were my graduation day and my first day of summer. You were my 4th of July and my country concert weekend. You were my first of August and my last day in Washington. You were supposed to be my Halloween and my Thanksgiving. I wanted you to be my Christmas present and my New Years kiss. You were supposed to be all these things for me but you left and I’ve been so alone. Now days, you’re every tear and shot of vodka. You’ve turned into every panic attack and the pain in my chest since we last touched. 
     I don’t remember what your voice sounds like and that’s been really hard for me to deal with. I used to know your voice anywhere and now I cant think of how it sounds without playing a video of us at your cabin or the one of us laying in your bed at 3 in the afternoon. 
      I started to do better, I really did. I wasn’t fixed; it’s only been 6 months so no, I wasn’t totally fixed. I could think about you or us together and not cry. I could look at pictures without a knot in my throat but, I wasn’t fucking fixed. I still couldn’t get an A on my english paper without wanting to tell you just to hear you say, “I don’t understand why you want to be an english teacher but I love you anyway.” I got really embarrassingly drunk a couple times and you were always there. I hadn’t cried that hard in so long but it was because of you. I don’t remember most of it but I do remember saying, “I’m just so sad without him.” over and over and over again.  You were still my drunk text, my 4am poems, and you were always my anxiety attack when I couldn’t get the G in my last name absolutely perfect.It was the first letter of your name too and it had to be perfect. You were always there.
     You’ve contacted me a couple times in the past weeks and it takes me back to square one. I was getting better, Goddammit. I was getting so much better. I wasn’t fixed but It took me 6months to not choke on the memories of us and now I can’t look at my phone without dying to see your name on it. I’ve changed my picture back to you and I because I can’t stand not seeing you everyday. I’m sorry I shot back to square one. I promise I had been doing so much better.
—  do you even know how much I miss you?
I’m not a normal teenager. I never will be. I don’t go out with friends, I don’t even have friends. I stay inside everyday and hide from the world. I hide to deal with my pain. Drinking alone to become numb, harming myself to feel. This isn’t how a normal teenager should act. No one should hide away from the world and harm themselves.
I just want to be normal.
—  I’ll never be a normal teenager

Hammer tribe women in Omo Valley Ethiopia are not easy to photograph, especially in market days. The best way that I found to take candid photos of them was to invite a bunch of them to the local “bar” and buy them all their drinks (the bar has no “bar”, no music and only one drinking option: Taj, the local “beer”). In this case at Dimeka market I bought drinks for two hours for about 30 women. They were reserved in the beginning but in the end they had a lot of fun and ended up loving me. iPhone video © Konstantino Hatzisarros 2014. www.konstantinophoto.com

Online dating is like your fifth glass of whiskey. It may complete you, but it may also make you cry. It may make choices such as ‘I’ve known this person four total hours; I think I’ll invite him into my apartment and turn off all the lights’ seem sound. It’s a journey on which you can lie and say that your sinless grammy just died, simply so that you don’t have to talk to your date for one goddamn second longer. So get out there and enjoy it!
—  Jason Hayes, The New Yorker