Red Mosquito

Ello Sailor wrote:Strong work, Reido. Keep it up, bro!

washing machine wrote:

Ello Sailor wrote:Strong work, Reido. Keep it up, bro!

Less time spent drinking is time given back to improve my eno score on chess dot com.

Anders wrote:A dry month isn’t a problem at all.

Ello Sailor wrote:

Anders wrote:A dry month isn’t a problem at all.

Wow. WOW.

washing machine wrote: I'd like to slow down, but a life without wine seems "boring." Transcending boredom is a goal or a lever of sobriety from what I hear, and that interests me. It's easy to see on paper how boring this life with the same wines every night is, too. That irony is not lost on me. I understand that this is probably what an addiction looks like.

tree_ wrote:

washing machine wrote:Ah, gotcha and been there. Lately when I'm perfectly content with a day at the beach or going out on a run, I'll start thinking about how getting kinda stoned on a half dose of a gummy would just make the moment shine that much more. I'm not impaired or absent in these moments, but I'd like to get back to seeing the world through the same sober and awe-inspired eyes that my curious five-year old does. I see a lot of myself in him when he picks up a leaf and just totally gets lost in nature. I think he gets it from me, and it's helped me remember a default setting in my personality.

Rick Rubin's book The Creative Act has actually helped a lot with trying to return to whatever I've gotten away from, but you're right... it's just so easy/comfortable to just keep on escalating the moment with a buzz of some sort.

Yeah man. I relate. I have so much joy with my two young children. That must be natural for everyone. And in that way, I know I'm not too fucked up. It's just like you said, I often just have that thought that I could be feeing better right now, because pot and booze do work so very well at doing that. I just have one of those brains I guess. I feel like I'm a better person when I'm a bit altered, and people actually seem to agree. I get out of my shell. But I do know ultimately I should work on breaking through that shell without cheating, and that would be the best version of me. Again, it just seems so daunting, and so much easier to just keep doing what I'm doing.

tree_ wrote:

washing machine wrote:Been struggling again lately with wine and thc gummies. It's a compulsive evening routine at this point and it's noticeably affecting my mornings and by extension my responsibilities throughout the day.

Anyway, yesterday I decided to stop/take a break/whatever and that was tougher than I thought it would be. Feels okay this morning though. We'll see where this goes. I know myself well enough to understand that this is not the hard part. That's coming. Not sure if I want to be totally sober or try actual moderation. I don't think I want to give up life's intoxicating moments entirely, but yeah.

Wishing you the best. It's so easy to fall into a pattern and I know how difficult it can be to break it, especially when it's so casual and there's no real "rock bottom" to completely snap you out of it.

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.

tragabigzanda wrote:New Dev is turning me on

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.

96583UP wrote:seems like a natural progression for young parents to inevitably give up / severely curtain regular drinking or marijuana

it just does not work when you have to deal with children

and as you get older your body can't shake it off as well the next day

and other things make your body feel happy instead with age

like high quality fiber

tragabigzanda wrote:

Dev wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:New Dev is turning me on

Look at all the good things happening to me now that I'm sober.

One day at a time dawg

Dev wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:

Dev wrote:

tragabigzanda wrote:New Dev is turning me on

Look at all the good things happening to me now that I'm sober.

One day at a time dawg

Kill me.

Why do I still crave getting high even though it hasn't really been fun for years? Also will I ever not crave it?

I bought a pack of cigarettes tonight just cause I "need" something and I instantly feel like a piece of shit and failure. I don't even like cigs but at least my mental state is not altered by them.

Ello Sailor wrote:None. I was just being a silly goose. But telling someone who is opening up about a tustle with alcohol that a dry month "isn't a problem at all" is kind of strange. Maybe it's a Norway thing.