You can pick up a girl almost anywhere. A bar is probably not the best place if you’re trying to stay sober. Maybe don’t lead with “I’m an addict.” Fuck problem is it of hers anyway?
You’d be surprised though. That’s probably the #1 concern of all addicts anywhere. You work through it but, again, I’m not really an addiction therapist.
Suffice it to say that girls are on the look-out for confident guys, and they exist by the bundles. Also that once you start recovery, you reassess how important picking up girls really is. I mean I’ve done it. But I no longer have the privilege of picking up things, I gotta deal with fucking humans.
Truth be told though, it has never been so easy as since I have been sober. Something about a man that ruthlessly knows who they are and where they stand. Beer can only compete with that if the girl is an addict too, and then it’s not really you she’s after.
Hahah yes, thats an excellent example. It tells me foremost: it sucks to be a mouse. There is nothing for them to go back to. The mouse is simply glad to be rid of himself. It aint got spine, no spunk.
A human can go either way.
VO gives a better explanation of this than WtP.
As Zauwelios already observed constantly, which is true, in conscious beings it is rather the feeling of power they’re after, not actual objective power. Which is why drugs are done, but in general why many things are done.
So these mice, the morphine rid them of the feeling of being a mere mouse… haha. What a shitty thing to be, a mouse. Fuck mice. I feel sad even to kill them.
Anyway VO - you just observe the mouse is valuing some thing, the morphine and the relief it gives, and because it values this, over what it can value in terms of its self-valuing, it stops self-valuing i.e. being.
It values the finite morphine-experience over the experience which can perpetuate itself.
Yeah, no doubt, that’s the treatment addicts tend to get from the world at large. Woe would be us if we valued ourselves based on it! And verily, woe thus are most addicts.
Anyone who manages to self-value (not to be confused with valuing a self - we don’t believe in selves, do we - its the valuing which values it-self, not its self) the drugs is not to be woed, this person has heart.
The point Im making is, mice are too weak to be doing drugs. They cant “recover”. There is no such thing as a recovering mouse.
As I read it all it is not the urge to use the drug that makes the mouse and the weakling, it is the fact that mice are content to just dissolve their existence.
Human drug addicts can reach a rock bottom level where their conscious self valuing, or WtP, kicks in, and forces them to go into an ordeal rather than to give up.
Whatever is lost by then should pale in comparison to the strength to alter ones course.
I bet you could recover a mouse.
I have yet to meet a weak addict. That’s the irony.
Give me 100 addicts and I will take France.
Well you gotta recover them first I guess. Too disorganized if not.
My honest to goodness diagnosis? The world as it is configured is not enough of a challenge for these souls made of steel.
But thats the whole point I’m making.
I know some people who tried mild drugs and completely freaked out. You’ve already have to be relatively strong to even endure drugs. Let alone to go into it properly, and let alone to get out of it.
Completely agree.
Almost everybody is an addict. Most people, if you pull away their New York times and their Starbucks latte they have no idea what to do with themselves. Ive rarely met a person who had gotten into drugs who hadn’t won a great deal of interesting experience on its account.
Why do you think I ever did drugs? To make life easier??? Hahahahahaha
If thats what I wanted out of it Id have left it all alone after I tried my first bit of weed.
Gib -
“Ah, so to become greater than you ever were even with the help of drugs. ← That certainly is a holy grail if ever there was one.”
Yes.
If Nietzsche is to be taken seriously, perhaps the place to find the strongest men is among those called the weakest. The most reviled.
Nandayo.
Thats absolutely beyond any question.
Look at this world, Society. Does it behave like there are any strong people in respected positions?
Trump is the only person Ive ever seen with status that isn’t insanely weak. Well, our ex Queen Beatrix is strong too. And there have been some. But over 99 percent of people who are well regarded are invertebrates.
Note: I mean in our society. The shit we have to deal with.
I could have been, would have been as rich as that idiot Joker thinks I am, much richer even, if I had been able to glide along in the shit-stream of the film industry to which my talents gave me access. I could have bought houses and cars for my family and sometimes wish Id gone that road but I just could not endure the pointless, philosophically utterly frigid, narratively artificial kindergarten it all was.
I told myself: Ive been making stories on film for 3 years and I was really good at it but now I’ve told everything I can tell, and Ill need some real bad ass experience in order to make a cool film. So I quit the prestigious school which refuses 99 percent of applicants, for which I had worked so hard, because it only harboured porcelain doll type humans and I felt Id end up one myself there.
Look at this shit.
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dn0vOOiwOhc[/youtube]
My friend in film school, only one who had some balls, we were doing camera both, finally decided to share-direct a film. Look at this horrible travesty, the utter faiblesse.
He once told me, when I was already deep down in the pits, when I was making some humiliating confessions, that he envied me because he didn’t have any sort of such trouble or challenges and thus fucking crazy weird stories like I was oozing with. That was pretty cool of him to admit. But only after he made this movie, years later, I realized he wasn’t even kidding.
Brother, its all about the stories you can tell.
My grandfather told me, youve got the best profession there is - storytelling.
Yeah well, I thought then, thats all very cool grandpa but you have the best stories.
So I went out and made war with myself, as there wasn’t any war raging so I could do what he did to get his fucking stories.
My other grandfather, oh man did he have stories.
Say, did you ever jump out of a cattle train in the middle of winter Poland to save your life?
They were stopped by the other “passengers” the first night for fear, the second night he got an accomplice and they jumped when the train made a shit-stop, and they lay on the rails underneath the train.
They walked and walked through the snow and finally knocked on a door. Turns out it was a ss officers door.
He ended up chained to this other guy for a year.
But he escaped again.