I was always looking for something else to make me feel something else. No more.
. . . cannot be touched, but felt; cannot be seen, but heard; cannot be lost, but found.
Extreme believing for me is ignorance, no matter what side of the fence you’re on. If I can’t empathize (even a little) with what you believe, I don’t understand enough.
When we judge others, we’re no better, except at identifying their broken pieces and making ourselves feel better about our own.
There is absolutely nothing a drink will make better.
What I once thought was fake, is very, very real; what I once thought was fun, is very, very sad; and what I once thought I wanted, I pray to never have again.
It’s the fear of alcohol that takes the power away from alcohol, ironic as that sounds; no different than the notion of surrendering providing us with power.
“I’m still an oversensitive alcoholic, I just don’t drink anymore.”
As long as I have faith in my beliefs, I don’t need to know the facts, which no one knows anyway.
Action creates my path; no amount of planning, wisdom or experience will reveal the entire path.