Wednesday, January 23, 2008

The Unknown Good Stuff In '06 and '07:
How I Lived to be 44 So Far

In spite of what I had to go through these years, I feel a little more empowered and free.

No more would I need an excuse to get hammered on my spare time, nor find myself broke for any other reason than having to pay rent, groceries and utilities.

(Okay... I did have to get games for the Playstation, but that's another story.)

I could finally fit into my jeans. After spending so much time struggling to fit 38 inches into a 32-inch pair of dungarees, I had to tighten my belt quite a bit.

Poverty and starvation can do that. Trust me.

All kidding aside, I am in process of releasing all these years of anger and self-loathing that ironically have driven my previous endeavours, both legit and illicit.

The funny thing about creativity and maintaining muses is that there has to be something that nourishes the process and perpetuates the momentum. Sometimes, the spark would come from a single, repetitive act, an occurring ritual that would define a person's head space. Sometimes, there would be a chemically induced revelation, an alcoholic epiphany, a hallucinogenic awakening that would give birth to a song, a drawing, a rant on a blog.

As you can see, all my writings were done under some kind of influence. And sometimes, like DUI, there would be a little collateral damage.

Have my Muses abandoned me? Has the Fire been squelched? HELL NO!

I believe that through adversity and bullshit, I've become, if not stronger, at least more at peace, more considerate, maybe even more aware of what's around me.

Yes... there will be haters everywhere who will think that once you've got the Disease, you're lost forever. I don't subscribe to the Darwinist fascism of immediate disposability (except for some extreme circumstances). The Disease always has a source, and within that source lies the cure.

Yes, I was, I am, and I will always be an addict. Once you get a taste, the taste will linger as long as you're above ground. For every rush, there will always be the crash, and most true addicts would dwell on the former than contemplate the latter. With sobriety, though, there's no difference between the two - both have equal weight and are necessary to maintain balance and order.

I'll still love and hate as usual, except that my targets will be attainable. I realise that I can't change the world as much as I like - I have enough problem changing myself as it is right now. As for the bridges that I have burned behind me in my years as an addict, leave them be - God will sort out the rest.

In other words, I am still Jacques. Nothing more. Nothing less. And there's still work to be done.

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