Actually, this is just another 420 blog.

You cannot quite understand the power of addiction until you have seen it firsthand. Until you have seen it eat like an acid through everything you are. It is astounding to watch. Its slow and total corrosion of your entire life is mesmerizing. As you watch it, you keep thinking, "At some point, the corrosion will stop. There is no way it will be able to eat through this next thing. This next thing is too important to me." But then it does. It eats through everything. And you realize you are dealing with a vast and inhuman power. The most frightening thing is that consequences do not work against a well-developed addiction. There are ultimately no consequences, none, which can separate you from your drug. As your addiction progresses and your self-control slips away, there is nothing you won't risk to continue doing your drug. Nothing is important enough. Nothing is sacred enough. Money. Career. Marriage. Home. Family. Goals. Art. Religion. Dignity. Safety. Health. Sanity. Parents. Children. Life Itself. All of it will go into play. All of it will be put on the table. If you play the game shrewdly, you might get to keep some of it. You will not get to keep all of it. You will pay. You will pay in ways that you cannot imagine. You will look at the people who have lost more than you, and you will pretend you are different than them. You will pretend that you can walk away from the table. But the time will come to walk away, and you won't. You will keep playing. You will be made a liar. If you play long enough, all your pious little promises will be shown to be lies. "I have a good job. I would never risk my job." "I love my wife. I would never risk my marriage." "I love my children more than anything. I would never risk my children's safety. Ever." "I don't want to die." Whatever specific promises you make will be the ones that you will break, because those are the ones you have made to try to control yourself. But you won't be able to control yourself. Your self-control will be pried from your grasp like a toy being taken away from a child. And when break these promises, you will not be some mindless "junkie" who doesn't care anymore. You will be in many ways the same person you are now, and you will know how awful and horrifying your actions are, and you will do them anyway. You will not be able to believe what is happening to you. You will tell yourself that you are unlucky or cursed. You will watch in horror. But what you are watching is yourself. The horror is what you are doing. I realize that this all sounds rather silly and dramatic. From the perspective of somebody dabbling with drugs, this all sounds laughably overwrought. But if you ever go where I have been, if you ever see what I have seen, this will still sound laughable, not because it is overwrought, but because it is insufficient -- because it doesn't even begin to describe it.

Alcohol goes great with nostalgia and melancholy. It's what gives us misty-eyed barflies, forlorn poetry, midnight phone calls, the last page of The Great Gatsby, Sinatra ballads and 73% of all country music.