I’ve spent the past 3 weeks stone cold sober, and the last 2 weeks in complete control of myself, dealing with mortgage brokers, insurance brokers, printers, deliveries, premeditated ejaculations, hair care, ironing etc. Adult things. Everything is running smoothly. I feel great. It’s so nice. Everything’s nice. Nice, nice, nice. How pleasant to see things running smoothly. How nice. How tediously nice. How comfortable and predictable everything has become. How stable I feel. How clean. Like I’ve been disinfected. Like I’ve been wiped down with bleach. Sterilized. Sterile. Squeaky clean. Like a soldier’s button. Like a happy, shiny soldier’s button. Happy, clean and nice.Tomorrow I will do something stupid. Tomorrow I will make a mistake on purpose. Tomorrow I will feel my pulse again.
4 comments:
In other words, tomorrow you'll do something to make you get your sty back!
Whenever I have order and harmony in my life I inevitably feel stifled and crushed.
Then I do something stupid and feel like myself again.
Such is our lot in life.
I'm growing fond of my sty, I feel it adds character.
Yes, yes ... live, live, live! Order and harmony are only useful for the moments when you fall asleep, which is just like temporarily dying.
Love love love this. I can relate. When I first quit the sauce I felt the same way. I was kind of climbing the walls. I find that the longer I'm sober the more surreal life actually is. It's easier if you're actually an interesting person to begin with.
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