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Blogs by Bill Brent
on the nature of a drug habit 12/23/2004 11:13:31 AM
FWIW, I am in the midst of an open-ended sabbatical from doing recreational drugs of any variety. Thursday, December 23, 2004
10:51 a.m.
Getting loaded is perhaps the closest we can come to experiencing the ideal of Perfect Love. In a world full of imperfect communication and misperceived motives, at last we have this one Something, a quintessentially non-human substance that offers us perfect attentiveness, a landscape free of the tyranny and treachery of subjective judgments, and no program or destiny other than its own fulfillment. Where else are we going to find such unconditional acceptance in our day-to-day lives?
It is precisely for this reason that each of us needs to come to terms with the inherent imperfection of our time – the faces and places that govern our thoughts, control our movements, define our reality. No one really wants to be entirely alone. And drugs offer us the surface impression of a safe haven. Of course, the bitter irony is that they can't ever replace our innate need to connect with another imperfect, judgmental, inconsistent, and thus potentially unpredictable human soul. What they appear to offer and what they actually provide (or, to put it more accurately, what they exact as their toll) are nearly opposite.
A drug habit is actually quite a boring place to live.
stopped 11:00 a.m.
188 words = 21 words/min. Is this the typical rate of an uninterrupted flow of thought, as manifested by an experienced and competent typist? How much faster (if at all) could this be extracted by an experienced and competent "dictator" speaking into auto-transcribing voice-recognition software? And would the clarity of thought be comparable, superior, or inferior?
