Murder in the first degree, premeditated murder. "Alcohol is out to kill you." That kind of murder. That kind of murderer.
Just short of paranoid, I felt alcohol was out to get me when I first got sober. I would meditate to block out the beast, to find peace. Meditate/Premeditated. It makes some insane senseless sense.
Serenity, find me now.
“What do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes.” - Samuel Beckett
Are you a one-trick pony? Can you learn to be free?
from All Drinking Aside (Rough Draft, Chapter 48)
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