"I hang up the phone and I stare at the floor and I think about my Mother and my Father in a Hotel Room in Chicago and I wonder why they still love me and why I can't love them back and how two normal stable people could have created something like me, lived with something like me and tolerated something like me. I stare at the floor and I wonder. How did they tolerate me."
"Near the end, there is a section of testimonials. There is one by a dentist, one by a European drinker, one by a salesman, one by an educated Agnostic. They were all Alcoholic disasters, they all found God, they all started dancing the Twelve Steps, they all got better. As with all testimonials like this that I've heard or read or been forced to endure, something about them strikes me as weak, hollow and empty. Though the people in them are no longer drinking and doing drugs, they're still living with the obsession. Though they have achieved sobriety, their lives are based on avoidance, discussion and vilification of the chemicals they once needed and loved. Though they function as human beings, they function because of their meetings and their Dogma and their God. Take away their Meetings and their Dogma and they have nothing, Take them away and they are back where they started. They have an addiction.
Addictions need fuel. I am not convinced Meetings and a Dogma and a God can fuel mine. If what the doctor says at the beginning is true, and joining AA is the only way to cure me, then I'm completely fucked. Fucked Fucked Fucked."
"We're here to help you James. We're here to help you get better and to help you learn how to stop killing yourself. If you do what we tell you to do and you follow the Program we prescribe, you will live a long and happy life.
I have recieved my sentence.
It doesnt have to be carried out. Just trust us.
Have you got anything else to say to me?
I hope you'll trust us, I hope you'll give us a chance to help you, and I hope to God you're here tomorrow.
I stare at him. His eyes are thick and wet and breaking. He is obviously sad and obviously disappointed. I'm tired of making people sad and I'm tired of disappointing them and I'm tired of seeing them break. I have seen this too many times. He will be the last.
I am singularly the most self-destructive individual I have ever known, and this fact makes me hate, and destroy myself, even more. Paradoxical?
I have found a motivation to live. I want to do something really famous by the age of 27, and then join Jimi Hendrix, Jim Morrison and Kurt Cobain. Pretty?