Colin Farrell for Detail

Seven Psychopaths actor Colin Farrell photographed by Mark Seliger for Details magazine.

Here is what the 36-year-old had to share with Details.
On his boozing
The bottom line is I ended up miserable. I’d done enough of a job of flagrantly abandoning myself in a very loud and public way that I began to fall apart, you know? There was a time when I needed to do three or four films at once. It was the best place for me to hide. 
He’s gotten time since he stopped drinking
Honestly. I’ve got eight hours a day now that I didn’t have before, when I was drinking every day for 18 years.
Becoming a father to son James (now 8)
When I had James, I made a decision not to change. I literally said, ‘I’m not changing! I’m gonna be his friend!’ Like a f–king 28-year-old drug-addicted drunk friend is exactly what my 6-week-old son needs.” After two years of substance-fueled fatherhood, he thought, “Why am I resisting?” 
On why he didn’t stop drinking before then
That was a whole by-product of fame… There’s a form of expat guilt,” he says. “I feared people at home would think I’d changed. So my Irish accent got stronger in America. This was me coming in and going, ‘I don’t give a f–k!’ But, of course, not caring is a form of caring. 
His idea of keeping it real
I wore the same f–king pair of boots for 10 years,” he recalls, laughing. “From Cape Town to Tibet to L.A. to Dublin without laces. The same f–king grubber boots that I bought for f–king 20 pounds in a market in London. Initially I wore them because I didn’t want to care about how I looked, and then they became my identity. They became my character. And then I wouldn’t wear anything else—the idea of it put the fear of God in me.
Stupid money
I’d fly over loads of uncles and aunties. I think the most I brought over at one time was 30 friends and family. ‘Cause the money back then was f–kin’ stupid, man! It was so stupid. 
Money, booze and self-fulfillment
It’s very easy as someone who has in his life a certain amount of material wealth, but the best thing about fame is debunking it,” he says. “The best thing is that you get to go, ‘Oh s–t—I’ve just knocked a big one off my list and it does not lead to happiness.’ Inevitably it ends up back on the drugs and booze,” he says. “It’s such an energetic part of where I came from. It was part of my brand, and it’s hard for me to talk about the last 20 years and not have fame and addiction be a part of it. But it kind of does get old . . .”  
He used to be a serial liar
Oh, I wouldn’t tell a truth all day,” he says flatly. “If I’d had chicken and beans for dinner, I’d tell you I had steak and potatoes. No purpose, just habit. The amount of energy you have to put in and the amount of lies you have to tell to keep a drug habit alive, it’s fairly significant. Your whole life is a lie. 
Embracing the unknowns
Not knowing what the f–k I’m doing as a dad is huge,” he says happily. “I don’t know what I’m doing, and that’s a very liberating thing. You just go, ‘Oh look, there’s s–t on the floor.’ There’s actually sh-t on the floor—I have a picture of it on my phone. So what do you do? You clean it up, put a diaper on his ass, and that’s that. It’s just about being present for these guys.
“Life is change, life is evolution, growth . . . ” Farrell is saying. We were talking about love and the impermanence of everything, and this has set him off on one of his verbal flights, in which the words tumble out quickly and he seems to be performing a speech he’s writing in his mind as he goes. “Life is apogee, apex, decline, life is death—and everything else is open to discussion.” 
Love and marriage
Farrell isn’t with either of the mothers of his sons, though everyone gets along. He was married once, to the British actress Amelia Warner. It lasted four glorious months. Or as he puts it: “I had a brief liaison with the notion of permanence.”
Being in a relationship
“I haven’t been in a relationship in a while,” he says. “Two and a half years since I was with Henry’s mother. If I ever do get involved with somebody again, I will try as much as possible to shut my f–king mouth and stay f–king present. Love in action, man! Not love in f–king words.” 
When told that drinking and dalliances can be a kind of hedge against loneliness
“They’re not hedges so much as they are curtains,” he says without missing a beat. “Hedges are natural, curtains are manmade. And they work until they don’t.”