Desensitization in the beer aisle

I have this sadness about the beer bottles. I’d been steering clear of liquor stores over the past several weeks, but I went in one yesterday. The explosion of craft beer is still dizzying. I started getting into beer back toward the beginning of it (god, it’s entirely possible I wouldn’t have even developed a beer problem if the only beer available had remained the crap stuff). I realized a long time ago how I romanticize the fucking labels. I realized yesterday that the ones I romanticize the most are the hiking/nature ones. Probably not alone in that.

Walking the beer aisle makes me feel lonely for my old “friends” I can’t have anymore. Some might say it’s stupid to go to that aisle. I probably agree with them. And at the same time, I sense that the first time’s the hardest. I want to desensitize (same theme as before). I realized yesterday that, starting now, I won’t be forming any new associations — false associations, shall we say. How cool is that. It leaves me with just a handful of labels to be sad about. And that sadness will get stale, and eventually I will forget about it. New labels will fill the space around the ones that made me sick, labels that I don’t know or care about. Such goes desensitization.

Eventually I will be left with actual fish, herons, hiking trails, rushing rivers, and cow udders. In the colors of my choosing. With some other cold bottle in hand that leaves my brain crystal clear.

Have a good one!

Adrian

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