accomplishedSure, it makes it hell to keep a steady job, but I've subscribed to the notion that having deep, meaningful conversations with complete strangers is much more fulfilling than any mindless task a job can throw at you.
And then there's the creativity that you find welling up inside of you after a bottle of your favourite liver-poison. It's true what they say, about intoxicants lowering inhibitions. For the shy (yet creative) type, booze is a godsend, as evidenced by the following:
'I want to go where the wild wind blows
I want to go to the sea
I want to know what the wisest man knows
And I want to know who is Me
I want to go on some Wild Goose chases
I want see Tennessee
I want to meet a billion new faces
And I want to prance with glee
I want too much, though it's never enough
I want the stars in the Sky
But above all that stuff
There is one thing I need
And that, is the answer to: "Why?"'
Not bad for a guy who can't put down the Bottle, eh? And to think, if I was a teetotaller, that poem would never have seen the light of day. Being self-conscious never made anybody famous.
I guess it's not so bad, being half-blitzed during nearly every waking minute of my life. It sure as hell makes my world seem a whole lot more interesting, I can tell you that. And what's life without something interesting?
