Friendly reminder that sobriety is nightmare mode.
Most the players around are at least sporting anti-depressants. If not that, then twitching around with reds. Some sedatives sprinkled on grease, hit a spliff – cognac to follow.
Whenever I get down I at least recognize this is nightmare mode after all.
The main sedative I got is endless fantasy – which I’ll admit is pretty potent. Still, I’d like to redeem it toward semi-nightmare mode if I could. I guess true nightmare mode would be to shut off the screen forever.
Some puer aeternus devotion; cling onto the dice and find it knocked out of your hands anyway. There’s a real sickly cult about it. Sometimes you aren’t considered an adult until you’re thirty-three.
The infantilism gets real old, don’t get me wrong. But “being an adult” no longer means what it used to. That is, you’re welcomed to all the downsides.
The beauty is how it’s all a gentle reminder: it doesn’t matter what agency or movements you’re hoping to make. Because you’re still going to stare at that wall. You will.
When you do your sober staring enough so it all becomes pretty amusing. Because you realize it’s like envying… it’s like envying the rush of slamming your head into the wall. Are you stimulated? Sure! But there’s a lot more than that.
I guess sobriety is easy mode when you sit down and consider all the other options. Eventually you realize there are no other options. So you get to watch people destroy themselves I guess – your own self too, whatever worship you’re planning.