Addiction & Self-Destruction

As artists, we’re taught—sometimes outright, sometimes subtly—that chaos fuels creativity, that self-destruction is the price of “real” art. That myth has buried more talent than lack of opportunity ever could. Drugs don’t deepen the work—they narrow it. They steal discipline, dull instincts, fracture relationships, and eventually replace the art itself as the main focus. What starts as “inspiration” ends as dependence, and the voice that was once clear and honest gets drowned out by the need to escape. The truth is, the art doesn’t need the damage—it survives in spite of it, not because of it.

Self-destruction also lies to us about legacy. We think burning fast makes us unforgettable, but it usually just cuts the story short. The artists who last—the ones who truly change lives—are the ones who show up clear-headed, grounded, and alive long enough to evolve. There is nothing rebellious about losing control of your own life. The real act of defiance, especially in a culture that glamorizes the fall, is choosing clarity, choosing health, and choosing to stay here long enough to finish the work you were put on this earth to do.