No personal tale is complete without bringing
the narrative, poetic or prose down to its last moment, or conclusion. In this
case a working reformed drunkard. I can say now there appears in my system no
organic need for alcohol. My chemistry does no longer demand it. I have weighted it now for thirty-years! But
I reached the conclusion, I will drink as I need it, but I have no need for it.
You see first it becomes a habit of mind, then it changes one’s chemistry, to
be a physical craving. Not so unlike tobacco, or cocaine, or morphine. I’ve
discovered most drinkers do not drink alone; it is a social custom, then a
habit, then a must. So we have three needs: mental, social and physical. So what is my problem? I do not care to revisit all those drunken
days of yesteryear that is why I do not drink. I can’t find the word in the
dictionary, but my sobriety means all the words in the dictionary what they are
meant to mean. I want nobody or anything to control me; never again, I have buried
white logic. Let Mr. Barleycorn, sleep
soundly!