The Last Time I Got Drunk

Yesterday, I got drunk and went home late. My mom scolded me—she was angry, and she was right to be. But as I walked back home and reflected, I found myself appreciating the people from the old days who are still with us.

One of them is “Tsong Nelo,” the last drunken master in our place. He’s around 65 years old, still sharp, and full of stories. He remembers my dad’s courting stage with my mom—how wild and crazy my dad was back then, because he was with him during those days. Without Tsong surviving all these years, I wouldn’t have known that side of my dad’s story.

Even though he drinks every day, Tsong doesn’t go wild or start fights like my dad used to. He stays loyal to his late partner, avoids chasing girls, remains strong, and is still good to be around. I admire that.

But for me? That dizziness from liquor isn’t something I want anymore. Last night was the last time I’ll let myself get drunk. I wanted to experience it—to put myself in that state, to understand what others feel—but I realized it’s not for me.

Tsong may live that way, and maybe it’s become part of his life. But I have goals. I have things to build. And I can’t afford to be drunk from time to time.

Because of what happened, I found myself appreciating my parents even more—their crazy stories, their sacrifices, and how they’ve evolved through the years. I’m grateful for that. To all the people who became part of their story, and reasons why I’m here today—I want to say thank you.

What I need isn’t liquor—it’s focus, discipline, and solitude.

So thank you, Tsong, for the experience and for the stories. But from now on, my path is different.