Red Mosquito

tragabigzanda wrote:As we say in the program, if there’s no problem then there’s no problem.

If daft’s relationships with his friends, family, and colleagues are unaffected by his nightly drinking, and he personally doesn’t feel it’s limiting his capacity to engage with the world authentically, then it’s probably he’s not an alcoholic, he’s just a guy who has some drinks every night…

One good way to test is to take a couple weeks off and see how things go. Whenever I would take a break, it was stupid how much of my mental energy was spent calculating the next time I could take a drink or a puff. Outwardly everything looked the same, but internally I was in agony.

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

Strat wrote:Daft is cut as fuck and handsome as hell.

tree_ wrote:

Strat wrote:Daft is cut as fuck and handsome as hell.

Have you seen his liver?

Strat wrote:

tree_ wrote:

Strat wrote:Daft is cut as fuck and handsome as hell.

Have you seen his liver?

his skin is great

tragabigzanda wrote:As we say in the program, if there’s no problem then there’s no problem.

If daft’s relationships with his friends, family, and colleagues are unaffected by his nightly drinking, and he personally doesn’t feel it’s limiting his capacity to engage with the world authentically, then it’s probably he’s not an alcoholic, he’s just a guy who has some drinks every night…

One good way to test is to take a couple weeks off and see how things go. Whenever I would take a break, it was stupid how much of my mental energy was spent calculating the next time I could take a drink or a puff. Outwardly everything looked the same, but internally I was in agony.

daft twat wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:As we say in the program, if there’s no problem then there’s no problem.

If daft’s relationships with his friends, family, and colleagues are unaffected by his nightly drinking, and he personally doesn’t feel it’s limiting his capacity to engage with the world authentically, then it’s probably he’s not an alcoholic, he’s just a guy who has some drinks every night…

One good way to test is to take a couple weeks off and see how things go. Whenever I would take a break, it was stupid how much of my mental energy was spent calculating the next time I could take a drink or a puff. Outwardly everything looked the same, but internally I was in agony.

Oh, I think I am. I’m just a boring one. If I ever go out with colleagues, I have two beers, max. I hate people who drive while intoxicated. I never go to work drunk or hungover or drink during the work day or anything. Basically, I have 3 heavy pours between 7 and 10 pm with a ton of diet ginger ale. I work a crossword puzzle and then put it away when my eyes get tired. I exercise frequently and don’t drink when I have shit to do, but I also realize it’s a lot of alcohol, and it worries me a bit now in the second half of my 40s.

Every year I take a couple months off, and it’s fine. The first couple weeks I think about it a lot, but that passes pretty quickly. This year I did dry January and that extended until mid-March. But the days are just loooong and my mind doesn’t give me a break. I really should cut back tho. I frequently wonder about my heart.

Anyway, Coach, I’m glad you’re on your way to permanent sobriety. I will report back if my drinking becomes more recreational than habitual. Maybe this thread will be a catalyst.

Coach wrote:Anyway, I'm back in the dating saddle and have a date with a pretty girl tonight, so onward and upward.

Coach wrote:Anyway, I'm back in the dating saddle and have a date with a pretty girl tonight, so onward and upward.

Carl Sandburg wrote:There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

Anders wrote:

Coach wrote:Anyway, I'm back in the dating saddle and have a date with a pretty girl tonight, so onward and upward.

Nice! Good luck.

Coach wrote:

Anders wrote:

Coach wrote:Anyway, I'm back in the dating saddle and have a date with a pretty girl tonight, so onward and upward.

Nice! Good luck.

Thanks, it went well. It was weird to hookup and not be drunk lol.

Strat wrote:

daft twat wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:As we say in the program, if there’s no problem then there’s no problem.

If daft’s relationships with his friends, family, and colleagues are unaffected by his nightly drinking, and he personally doesn’t feel it’s limiting his capacity to engage with the world authentically, then it’s probably he’s not an alcoholic, he’s just a guy who has some drinks every night…

One good way to test is to take a couple weeks off and see how things go. Whenever I would take a break, it was stupid how much of my mental energy was spent calculating the next time I could take a drink or a puff. Outwardly everything looked the same, but internally I was in agony.

Oh, I think I am. I’m just a boring one. If I ever go out with colleagues, I have two beers, max. I hate people who drive while intoxicated. I never go to work drunk or hungover or drink during the work day or anything. Basically, I have 3 heavy pours between 7 and 10 pm with a ton of diet ginger ale. I work a crossword puzzle and then put it away when my eyes get tired. I exercise frequently and don’t drink when I have shit to do, but I also realize it’s a lot of alcohol, and it worries me a bit now in the second half of my 40s.

Every year I take a couple months off, and it’s fine. The first couple weeks I think about it a lot, but that passes pretty quickly. This year I did dry January and that extended until mid-March. But the days are just loooong and my mind doesn’t give me a break. I really should cut back tho. I frequently wonder about my heart.

Anyway, Coach, I’m glad you’re on your way to permanent sobriety. I will report back if my drinking becomes more recreational than habitual. Maybe this thread will be a catalyst.

Im more worried about that diet ginger ale