13 October 2016

Paradise... Unobtainable...


I swear I used to have some kind of sense when I was drinking that some limousine door of my mind would open for me and an attendant would say, "Mr. Anders, you have arrived."
Trouble was, as the saying goes, I was always "a few fries short of a Happy Meal."
The illusion that alcohol could take me to some paradise of fulfillment unobtainable in the real world was always just one sip beyond my lips. Under the influence, I was always just this much short of being 'there'.

(Vatchi): Half-truths, half-lies, half lives. The intersection of anticipation and dread. The excitement of readying for a trip and the discovery that it is a trip to nowhere. And the mixing in of other drugs: valium, speed, Quaaludes, whatever. Insanity squared.
When you've got it, you've got it...
Bad....

from All Drinking Aside

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