Quote:
Originally Posted by sonofsam
Someones word isn't enough for me when it comes to addiction issues. No offence.
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I’m not some strung-out drunk. Booze is a tool, a skeleton key, a liquid lockpick. It helps open the door to the energies of creation always lingering in the background and perceivable to people marked with the blessing and curse of creativity. Cheap hooch smooths out the sharp edges of the static in my head, lets me hear the whispers buried under layers of our loud, collective grinding reality. All of those raw and shit-ugly truths about living in the era we live in, it is all begging to be spit out because no one else has the balls to talk the shit I do. Certainly it would be an easier life if I just put down the hooch and picked up a Wal-Mart apron. But I have the projects I need to complete still on my horizon, and I'll be damned if I don't set sail with Captain Morgan to get to the next port.
The real junkies, the true red-faced alcoholics, they’re the ones chained to it. They can’t quit without their bodies melting down into a fit of shaking, sweating, and puking out anything they try and keep down. Here in British Columbia, they’ve got programs where they give out measured amounts of government booze to those poor fuckers lost in a maze of intoxication without introspection. They get free drinks so they don’t roll over and die trying to go a day or two without their poison.
Some people need it just to survive.
I drink to live.
Having said that, 30 days without booze? Easier than taking a piss. Boring, but easy.