Time to start treating necessity like a myth.
Any physical addiction I ever had started with the mistaken idea that I "needed" said Substance to be social, to write, to sleep, and so on. I was fat because I thought I was too out-of-shape to exercise. I go crazy after relationships end (or change) because I convinced myself that I needed said person to be happy. Bollocks. I just liked the person, the stagnancy, the Substance an awful lot. Parties are more fun when you're drunk, that's just the truth. But nobody ever died of boredom or unadulterated disgust.
I want to perform poems like Ian Curtis sang: gradually losing composure.
Click to view