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Addicted to punishment or limerence?

Discussion related to all forms of addictions.
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Re: Addicted to punishment or limerence?

Post by Peanut » Sun Jan 14, 2018 8:05 am

Ahh that makes sense. Alcoholics like limerents want to remain in lala land. Their addiction is stronger than their desire to change. Thanks everyone!

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Re: Addicted to punishment or limerence?

Post by JohnDeux » Sun Jan 14, 2018 2:45 pm

Peanut wrote:
Sun Jan 14, 2018 8:05 am
Ahh that makes sense. Alcoholics like limerents want to remain in lala land. Their addiction is stronger than their desire to change. Thanks everyone!
Just felt an urge to add to this because I would not use the phrase "...*want* to remain in lala land". If you ever get a chance to read some of Gabor Mate's work on addiction, for me it was a lightbulb moment: "Yes, that makes sense....addicts want to cover up pain". And in addition to chemical or other manner of dependency that gets started through the process, it becomes the easiest, most reliable way to cover that pain, even if a greater way of dealing with that pain exists beyond the addiction. While the pain still exists....and is not being addressed....the addiction itself is the "go to" way to keep that pain at bay. So in that way, it's less than a "want" and more of a default circuit for soothing pain and confusion.
"Pay no attention to that man behind the curtain...."~ The Wizard of Oz

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Re: Addicted to punishment or limerence?

Post by Erata » Tue Jan 30, 2018 12:41 pm

Poet Cathal Bui Mac Giolla Ghunna, born about 1680, died in 1745 in County Clare, Ireland

He was said to have studied for the priesthood in his early years, where he learned his powerful turn of phrase. His work evokes a depth of humanity. A number of hymns are attributed to him, although he ended his life as a poet, wanderer, and heavy drinker. The nickname "Bui" means yellow, or amber.

In his famous poem, An Bonnan Bui, the poet admits his complexion matches that of the Yellow Bittern, comparing himself to the thirsty bird. The retiring waterbird dies of thirst while the waters are frozen over and the poet claims tongue in cheek that he drinks to ease his fear of the same demise.

Here's a translation that retains the wry humour of the original verse:

Cathal Bui Mac Giolla Ghunna
translation by Tom MacIntyre

Sickens my gut, Yellow Bittern,
To see you stretched there,
Whipped, not by starvation
But the want of a jar;
Troy’s fall was skittles to this,
You flattened on bare stones,
You harmed no one, pillaged no crop,
Your preference always, the wee drop.

Sours my spit, Yellow Bittern
Thought of you done for,
Heard your shout many’s the night,
You mudlarkin’ – and no want of a jar;
At that game I’ll shape a coffin,
So all claim – but look at this,
a darlin’ bird downed like a thistle,
Causa mortis: couldn’t wet his whistle!!!

Sands my bones, Yellow Bittern, that’s fact,
Your last earthlies under a bush,
Rats next – rats for the waking,
Pipes in their mouths, and them all smoking;
Christ’s sake, if you’d only sent word,
Tipped me the wink you were in a bind,
Dunt of a crow-bar, the ice splitter-splatter,
Nothing to stop another week on the batter.

Heron, blackbird, thrush- they’ve had it too,
Sorry friends, I’m occupied,
I’m blinds down for the Yellow Bittern,
A blood relation – on my mother’s side;
Whole hog merchants, we lived it up,
Carpe’d our diem, hung out our sign,
Collared life’s bottle, disregarding the label,
Angled our elbows, met under the table

While the wife moaned with the rest
‘Give it up – you’re finished- a year’-
I told her she lied,
My staple and staff for the regular jar,
Now – naked proof – this lad with a gullet
Who, forced on the dry, surely prayed for a bullet,
NO, men, drink it up – and piss it down,
Warm them worms waitin’ under the ground!
Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it. --Rumi

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