isadndiasndkdsjfnsaclkeworugvnkcm,xc3 It has been brought to your attention that you’re an alcoholic. And that it’s a sickness. And it’s killing you. You're crawling on your knees through life, your booze-filled belly dragging on the ground, your brain now fuzzy, now in overdrive, your hair sticking together with today's cold sweat and yesterday's vomit. Perhaps they’re right. Anything is better than this. Even bone-dry reality itself. Maybe you can quit?

first you

how do i

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