Category Archives: DOOM

Bacchus, that first from out the purple grape Crush’d the sweet poison of misused wine.

John Milton 1608 – 1674
Comus [1634], l. 46

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As we became subjects of King Alcohol, shivering denizens of his mad realm, the chilling vapor that is loneliness settled down. It thickened, ever becoming blacker. Some of us sought out sordid places, hoping to find understanding companionship and approval. Momentarily we did — then would come oblivion and the awful awakening to face the hideous Four Horsemen — Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, Despair.

ALCOHOLICS ANONYMOUS, The Big Book

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No evil dooms us hopelessly except the evil we love, and desire to continue in, and make no effort to escape from.

― George Eliot, Daniel Deronda

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Comete
Uphill in Melbourne on a beautiful day
a woman is walking ahead of her hair.
Like teak oiled soft to fracture and sway
it hung to her heels and seconded her
as a pencilled retinue, an unscrolling title
to ploughland, edged with ripe rows of dress,
a sheathed wing that couldn’t fly her at all,
only itself, loosely, and her spirits.
                                   A largesse
of life and self, brushed all calm and out,
its abstracted attempts on her mouth weren’t seen,
not its showering, its tenting.  Just the detail
that swam in its flow-lines, glossing about—
as she paced on, comet-like, face to the sun.

from
Subhuman Redneck Poems, 1996

LES MURRAY.

http://www.lesmurray.org/pm_c.htm

First you are young, then you are middle aged; then you are old; then you are wonderful

Lady Diana Cooper” ― Marcia Tucker, A Short Life of Trouble: Forty Years in the New York Art World

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“She didn’t want to be one of those old ladies obsessed with death, hearing it in every tick of the clock and creak of the floorboards, as if it were prowling around the house like a burglar”

Stewart O’Nan, Emily, Alone

As smoking is to the lungs, so is resentment to the soul; even one puff is bad for you. Elizabeth Gilbert

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“I have absolutely no pleasure in the stimulants in which I sometimes so madly indulge. It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that I have periled life and reputation and reason. It has been the desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of some strange impending doom.”

Edgar Allan Poe