How I Kicked the Habit
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What was my habit? It doesn't matter. It was the same as yours…the same as all the rest. Sure, the subject matter varies, but the tension of that addiction, gripping it's psychosomatic fingers around the vulnerable throat of your person, always bears the same result: compliance. We are bullied, time and time again, by our "desires". They are these desires that breakup our homes, bring down guilty consciences of dirty minds, breakdown our emotional bastilles and rape our virtues until they are bear no discrepancy from the virtues of Satan, himself. Yet, like battered housewives, we shelter and protect the abuser, while praying for some chance that it will walk away. We would rather it leave us, than we leave it. For this reason, we are slaves to our addictions, and like slaves, we bear the marks of tolerance. Tolerance! We will tolerate our instabilities. Tolerance! If we pay no attention to the pain, the pain will go away. Tolerance! To tolerate the destruction of our lives is to lie to our senses about the reality of our demise. Tolerance? I tried to kick the habit, but the habit had become me. |
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