Everything makes me want to do drugs, lately.
In present day reality though, I’ve shifted to loving the idea of drugs more than actually doing them.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m still a huge, raving, wild fan of them and I get jealous when people tell me about their disturbing and enthusiastic drug-capades. (Especially if they're young and don’t know what a hangover is, yet.) It’s just that I can’t keep up with my own hedonistic biddings- physically, emotionally or financially.
Hangovers, money bleeding, closing down bars in NYC (5AM! Oh, my!), those adventures have greatly subsided.
And, yes, it TOTALLY sucks, and, yes, I am afraid in my heart that I am NO FUN anymore... but I am happier now if I don't have to look myself in the mirror as the sun is coming up showing all of the little veins appearing around my mouth and my nose. Not to mention the migraines and excessive, next-day pizza guzzling.
Not a pretty picture.
Then, 5 yrs ago, I decided to get into comedy: the body/brain rush, the shakes, the blacking out (just from stage fright), the self-loathing and stomach flips all sandwiched in with the excitement of sometimes feeling uber-human for a second or two while happily trading the protection of my heart for the noise of laughter. UGH, gross… but I can’t help it.
Once in a while I really feel like I am a comedian. When I get on stage multiple times a week, I get kinda steady when I hold the mic. My muscle memory of a few jokes lands and then… I feel p r e t - t y f u c k - i n g cooool.
So to celebrate I have a drink, and another, and another…. ta-da!
Drugs and comedy go hand in hand.
Drugs and anything go hand in hand, just do them together once and it’s a lock!
Cycles of creation and destruction.
Continually telling myself I can stop.
…only if I want to stop.