L'enfer, c'est les autres...

martes, noviembre 22, 2005

Aprendiendo a volar sin fumar...

Este articulo me lo encontre hace un chingo en una revista de desing y me inspira bastante. Un dia se lo mande por correo a gente loca y nadie me dijo nada. Pero la neta es que me encanta asi que lo quiero compartir.


"And the best of your days
Will all vanish into haze when you're
On drugs
And you wish you could quit cause
You're really sick of it but you're
On drugs
"
-Weezer



I know you're an addict.
By James Mcphee.

You’ve smoked too many cigarettes, snorted far too much coke. Taken uppers, downers, MDMA, GHB, tried K, dropped acid, tripped on mushrooms, rolled on E. You’ve boozed before noon, lit joints so you can finally go to sleep. Pinched bags, skimmed off friends, even dusted off toilet seats. You’ve sniffed Rytalin to focus, stolen Rivotril when you can. Taken speed to perk up, Valium to come down, tried meth for a weekend. And now it’s all coming around: Am I an addict?
At time when bigger is better and more is merrier, it has become easy to slip in a world of excess. We like what we like and what we like is a lot. There is no such thing as too much of a good thing, so why not take it to the extreme? You have your vices. Your vices clearly have you. And now you think you’ve had enough, what do you do?
Enter the Narcotic Anonymous homepage. Just one click away, after a stop on Google.com where you enter those four little words: Am I an addict? Click on NA and a list of 29 questions appears: Do you ever use alone? Have you ever substituted one drug for another? Do you think a lot about drugs? Do you think you may have a problem? Yes, yes, yes and yes? But a checklist alone won’t clarify anything for you, because at the end there’s a disclaimer, a statement that says: “Am I an addict?” This is a question only you can answer. Well, thanks for the help, but judgment on this may be slightly impaired.

So you entertain the thought. Struggle with the questions. Justify it again and again. You’re not at the streets. You work every day. It’s just on the weekends and a few casual weekdays. You can handle it. Then one weekend turns into five days straight that’s followed by a crash that twists you so far down that you take off three days and head out of town. After a Weekend of R&R, you decide to give it all up – it really is for the best. But the cigarettes will have to stay if you’re going to get through this.

You do detox and rehab, drink lots of herbal tea. Stay home, read books, avoid certain friends, skip off all the parties. Now it’s been six months, and totally clean but starting to notice that you may be hooked on a few new things. You’re on friendster.com five hours a day. You have a yoga instructor, a shrink and run three times a week. The sushi chef knows your name and you’ve cut off all sweets. You drink shots of wheatgrass and eat as much protein as you can. Want sex all the time, even if it’s with your own hand. Take a multivitamin, ginseng, soy and cut back on caffeine. You’ve found a new Zen way of living. And now it is all worth?

You think about your future, and the pathway is clear. You’re on the border of becoming your mom or dad – the striking realization of a lifelong fear. Soon you’ll be out in the suburbs, clipping newspapers, obsessing about the lawn, scouting bargains at yard sales and changing the oil in the car .You’ll pop HGH for higher testosterone or Estroven to counter the effects of menopause. Viagra so you can get hard and a calcium supplement so you won’t go soft. You’ll suddenly have a linen closet, more than just condiments on the fridge. You’ll take tennis lessons, spend afternoons playing golf. You’ll have conflicts with competing dinner parties, and study up on your stocks. You’re looking at the future, and it’s not really you. It’s sad.

It’s sad because it’s true. The thought alone makes you crazy for a buzz. You long for a drink at the bar, a night at the club, an all-weekend bender, a vacation you’ll only vaguely remember. It makes you want to do a line, smoke a joint, pop a pill, drop a hit. Because at the end of the day, you see that no matter what drug you use, weed, coke, booze sushi or golf, you were, are and will always be an addict.

- Sniff, sniff
:|

3 Comments:

Blogger fun-gus said...

Cualquier parecido con mi actual vida es mera coincidencia. Tipo...

5:39 a.m.

 
Anonymous Anónimo said...

Hey, this article kicks ass, really! I just realized, I'm an addict... No, bull... I knew it all along. We're constantly trying to rid ourselves from one (or two) kinds of addictions just to pick up a different one. Reality check, anyone?

2:42 p.m.

 
Blogger fun-gus said...

Compa anglomamon:Aki puro latino, eh cabron!!
No, no es cierto...

Thank you very much for your comments. I think everyone, after analyzing their lifes closely could realize the sad truth. Maybe we're all wrong. Mayebe the definition of the word "addicted" is misunderstood. Maybe none of this is real.
Cheers mate...

ps:The real thing relies in choosing "wise" addictions...ja.

2:02 a.m.

 

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