Green Eggs and Lies
Down the hall, the addict runs looking for an out .Check the windows, check the doors, find the easy route. Any lie will do, he reasons , to use his killing love. I drank too much, I couldn't think, The drive was much to long. I didn't take it seriously, I didn't have a plan, Such fairytale excuses to spread throughout the land.
Each lie he tells he finds rebuffed. We've heard it all before. The voices of his brothers scream back the truth and more. In unison they'll show him what he refuses to admit. Each lie can be dismantled, each reason shown as false. Nothing helped by using it except to keep you hooked. To relax, to think, just when I drink, the fish won't bite, when I drive at night, just at work, if I don't I'm a jerk. The song goes on and on. All these things he did before, the drug just stole his soul. Thoughts came easy because no fix was needed to clear the poisoned mind. You never were so angry until nic and all her tricks.
Funny thing about us addicts, like dogs that chase their tails. While nic burns a hole in our hearts and steals everything that we hold dear. We don't stop taking the posion, in that there is much fear. Instead, we try to fill the void in such a backwards way, we simply use more and more of our drug each and every day. The thing that made the void is what we crave to fill it. Such a stupid mistake I felt the need to spill it.
The windows closed, he stumbles on and considers for a bit. A lie won't work to get my fix, perhaps I'll use the truth. My job is lost, my love is gone, my so and so has died, my car is broke, my health it fails , my joy, my loss, my triumph and my pride . For these I need "my old friend", my pesticidal love.
He tells himself because it's true, it's good enough to work. To question such a slip you'd have to be a jerk. My pains so great that I must fail and my my who could blame me. They'd fail too if they were me, and not one of them will flame me.
The addict tries each "truth" in turn, he assumes it must be real. How could they fault me now he thinks , for anyone would know, such sorrows are too great to bear. A little fix to get me thru , to get me here to there. No one could blame me for this slip I doubt they'll even care.
But at every door a brother stands to block the addicts path. The brother knows the lies of truth, he sees the addict eye to eye, he's said and heard it all before. The grief is understandable but not the slip you see. You will not get a pass from me.
"There is no truth that I'll believe that makes it fine to fall, not one thing gets better with your slip at all. Lies you tell and truths you tell are all the same to me, there is no true excuse for failure, not one you'll ever see." Each lie or truth so cleverly concieved, is nothing but a useless con the addict wants believed.
Now the addict gets quite mad, " how dare you call me out!!" I'll run away because you don't believe, I'll leave because your mean, I'll leave because you called me names, or you like the color green. The addict thinks that we don't know, he thinks that lifes too hard, he thinks because we treat his "truths" just the same as lies. That he can yell "INSENSITIVE" and sever all his ties.
But in reality it is just another door. One only he can lock. No brothers from KTC can hold the addict here. Should he choose to run away and use this one excuse. He'll not believe we mean to help he'll believe it's as he thinks. Convinced we are a bunch of jerks throwing kitchen sinks.
The addict doesn't know he's spinning his own lie. I hope to God he finds it out before he has to die. Deep down he wonders how on earth all his brothers are so wrong. Why can't they see how special he is, how hard it is for him, how it is he's different. Stronger,weaker, more addicted, has more stress or wears a dress, needs it more than a dollar whore, can't stop because he's scared. But I digress that list is much too long.
He exits out the hallway and back into the cold, a world of guilt and shame and fear , a patchwork built of lies. He'll believe his illusions for longer now until he clears the haze . A chance once more at the hallways door? or the burn of cancers sting. Either way a change must come it only ends two ways.
A crack in the door or a voice from a friend will show him this hall again.
he'll look a long way down it with hesitation and chagrin.
Perhaps this time he'll walk straight thru and not try all the doors.
Perhaps he'll heed his brothers words. you see, they know the way ,they've walked this hall before .
Perhaps he'll pull the veil from covering his eyes
Perhaps he'll learn that truth and lies are really all the same. That there is no Godly reason to continue with this game.
and then at last my addict friend, you'll see what you've forsaken, when 100 speak the truth, and yet you disagree, then maybe your mistaken.
You most likely won't like what you hear when it is not so queitly explained to you that your full of shit. Addicts lie, to others, but mostly to themselves. What makes KTC work is the wisdom of large groups. When you participate here you open yourself up so the collection of misfits saints and fellow addicts can gain access to your mind. If your off target someone WILL point it out. Others will agree or disagree. If the whole collection of tards decides your a dumbass, well then you better just buy the T-shirt because you are infact a dumbass. Question is what will you do with that info?
I got mad and wanted to leave. I realized I didn't have a choice but to stay. When I stayed long enough I realized that I was wrong about the issue, I was infact a dumbass. I realized why I had never been successful before, and I realized how to quit. I'm still learning, but I walk down the center of the hallway and don't check locks anymore to see if doors might be open. I'm going to keep whistling dixie and walking down the middle one day at a time. Follow the foot steps and listen to the group, if you can't hear anything, sing out,We'll answer. its like an echo that only comes back with honesty.
skoal Monster
