The love of drinking gradually leads to the inability to live even a day without it. Alcoholism is a disease for which we ourselves are to blame. Tirelessly, day after day, the personality of an alcoholic degrades, moral and ethical principles, without which a person cannot remain human, collapse. These are common truths, known to everyone, and everyone has long been tired of, are not declared in the story, but are shown from the inside, through the eyes of the alcoholic himself, who understands how he is falling into a bottomless black abyss, but does nothing to stay at least on the edge, so as not to destroy the human in yourself to the very end. Because he is not used to fighting, even if only with himself. Because he was used to going with the flow, giving up on everything, in the firm belief that tomorrow everything would somehow work out on its own. It won’t work out, it won’t work out—that’s how it is shown in this work, and that’s what happens most often in life. All that remains is to ask the eternal question: What are you doing, people? A story from the series “Glazkovskie scrapes.”