I stand behind the podium and talk about the event horizon, which brought me into these rooms. My audience: other unwitting astronauts whose lives, like mine, were deconstructed by the Black Hole of addiction. Though the time and place may be different, the physics of compulsion and allergy are precise and repetitive. Nodding heads affirm my calculations to be accurate with the vectors and trajectories of their own experience. I conclude, with the gratitude of a reassembled life, and pray, with gravity, for my feet to stay on the ground.
Toast your bread with satisfaction.