Endigar 156

I have lived another day.  I went to a treatment facility last night.  There is something powerful about going there;  to look on the faces of fear or the masks of bravado empowered by denial.  In the speed of thought, I fly back to my own seat in this place.  I trust no one.  Including myself.  The only god I am willing to believe in is one I must forge out of life and death necessity.  I do not worship this deity, I tolerate it.  But I am wary, not wanting to find myself wasting a good portion of life once more on a social control scam.  I lash out and fight in the dark, hoping to hit something.  grab hold of something.  I am looking for truth with clarity.  I am looking for genuine expression.  Give me your experience so that I can draw my own conclusions.  What is really going on here?

Little by little, I began to find life again.  I found a faith prior to religious contamination.  I open up.  I began to unfold as a person.  I find a new family. 

I had to respond to the encouragement to take risks.  Little by little.  When does a baby grow into a child who in turn grows into a man?  Can the moment be identified?  Neither can I tell you when the insanity of this alcoholic disease gave way to a satisfied sobriety, which in turn produced a man who needs to help others.  It just is.  And it is no less amazing.


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