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I'm not a perfect man, but I'm trying. Sometimes, I feel like a turkey, staring up at the clouds, wondering where the water is coming from. Better close my mouth, so I don't die. Better find myself some shelter. 

I have memories that like to fuck with me. Which, maybe is fair, because I fucked with them first. 

There are cravings. Appetites that can never be quenched. Maybe they would better be described as thirsts. There are sirens who pull me toward the sharp rocks, but, with discipline, hand on the rudder, I can block out the noise. 

Look at the blue jay. Feel the warm sun. Be in this moment. 

In the moment, I'm never thirsty. 

David Foster Wallace wrote, “... no single, individual moment is in and of itself unendurable.” I tattooed a reminder on my hand. Then, he killed himself. So, what the fuck am I supposed to do with that?

'Cause here’s the problem. Those moments stack up. It’s easy to fight one moment, but it’s damn hard to fight an army of them. It’s like quicksand; the more you struggle, the deeper you go. 

There’s a part of addiction that no one likes to talk about. Junkies aren’t worried about politics. Drunks don’t care about global warming. Tweakers could give a shit about tiger populations. They have more pressing priorities and, fuck, if there isn’t some relief to be found there. The world is full of things to trouble the sober mind. 

Addiction can be a moat. A pretty effective one.

I’m not saying you shouldn’t try or that you should bury your head in chemicals. I’m just saying I see you. I see your struggle. I see you beating yourself up, and it doesn’t do a damn bit of good. It’s just more addiction.

There is nothing worse than being addicted to making yourself the victim. 

And, hell, have you sat and listened to birdsong, lately? Have you felt the sun on your skin? Have you seen a little kid laughing, dancing? You can’t expect to face the world without those simple pleasures, and you have to be present to see that shit. 

I’m not a perfect man, but I’m better than I used to be. That’s something. That’s not nothing. 

I’m trying.