Fwd: Nirvana

After a huge arguments, a very shitty day and everything that someone who believes in or perceives right or wrong would take up as fucked up, i learnt the biggest lesson of love and respect due to all the 'wrong' of the day. Closed my eyes, opened my heart and touched what i can now understand how someone with a religious background would perceive as a meeting with 'god', in a presence of complete and pure love and forgiveness with just sooo much understanding. Not 3rd dimensional love that is hurtful, possessive or jealous, no, pure, pure unconditional love and understanding. Pure brilliant love, no right no wrong, no polarity, just balance, everything in sync with the extremely humbling feeling and presence I'm in. Tears streaming down my face, tears of joy, tears of understanding, tears from being touched by this purity. A deeper understanding emerges, everything is right, everything is one, different distortions of the infinite creator. Confusion leads to understanding, the 'law of confusion' or what we call the 'law of free will' is just a primary distortion of the law of one. The same as the urge to teach is also directly related to the urge to learn unless you're not learning what you teach - just another primary distortion of the law of one. Behind the veil of secrecy comes the opportunity of misunderstanding, hence learning and so figuring it out in an either positive or negative polarized society or collective consciousness, but as you move higher through the dimensions there is only balance, perfection, beauty, understanding. After opening my eyes and drying my tears i was staring at my feet into the distance, light, halo, yellow burn, sense of deja vu and now i cant look at anyone without seeing a halo around them, it sorta looks like they are quantum leaping and then the colors start 'burning' out the halo, the weirdest, strangest and most enlightening learning experience through love and true understanding and a willingness to know thyself and i mean truly know thyself. Love and understanding, pure cleansing and healing love. True and pure unconditional love for yourself, true and pure unconditional love for others and more importantly the service to others. On the highest level teaching thus learning is godliness at a very primary distortion. Love, love and more love.

'In the sky, there is no distinction of east and west; people create distinctions out of their own minds and then believe them to be true.'

Buddha

What the Fuck!?!

So fucking dazed and confused and not at all one fucking bit amused, all i want to do is blow out my fucking brain but im not even sure that will stop this pain? I dont know what the fuck this is that i feel but i promise you this shit is real. A million and one things on my mind and the thing that bothers me is the one fucking thing i cant find. Everything and everyone is just working on my nerves, fuck me sideways - this is someting that no one deserves. All i constantly want to do is just to fucking cry and i do not have the foggiest clue as to why? Even considering some smack to numb out the pain, fuck that shit! nope, not again - i'm not that insane!
Completely fucking lost in this ocean of uncertainty and all i want to know is what the fuck is wrong with me? People everywhere just driving me the fuck insane, hell man - one person does not deserve all this strain. I'm really not sure how much more shit i can take because somethings gonna give soon and i'm talking snap...shatter...break!
Doesnt matter how much grass i smoke this annoyance i cant ease, jesus fucking christ! I just want one single second of peace. Words can even come close to express what it is that im going through and no professional, no quack or shrink will be able to tell me what the fuck to do? Constantly on the verge but not losing my mind yet and not one single fucking tear to shed...

'By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.'

Confucius

Building block for a new world order

This disease has gotten to a point thats so far past and beyond mad, a reality that is more than sick, twisted, fucked up and way across the line of being sad. Pulling you way out of your true self and the bit of you thats left is so fucked and depressed and with a needle you are so fucking way past obsessed. Getting up and staying clean for a day or three - after putting yourself through all that shit you get up and use: any logic? Nope! Fuck me...
Im not sure if you should analyze the problem or just let go? Stop immediately and turkey your arse off or over a couple of days or wean it off and take it slow. The second option is just an excuse to fuck it up for a while longer; bullshitting yourself into believing it will keep your mind and body stronger? Not sleeping for the couple of days you dont use; then by using again you put yourself through that same fucking abuse, now once again youre fucking yourself over by being high so at night its just another form of sleep deprivation. God dammit, fuck me running! Heroin addiction in your life just causes devistation...
I mean laying down to pass the time before your next hit, while waiting these stupid fucking poems i write and thats about it. Watching the clock and waiting for an hour to pass, up and down, preoccupying time by cleaning, painting or smoking some grass. Life is really out of balance, shattered and a complete fucking waste, how much more sadness and misery do you want to experience and taste? Oh heroin the love of my life or should i call you my favorite lady smack? Definately far from a lady - god i would really love to get my fucking life back!!!


"Drugs are a bet with your mind."


Jim Morrison

Beltching

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Dumbfuck

Really going out of my fucking way to get clean, and now once again how long has it been? A whole fucking 36 hours, and I really focussed all my energy, strenght and powers. Actually got in a couple of hours of sweet dreams and a bit of nitynite, not too much with the pillow did i fight. Back, cheast and face drenched cause i literally sweated like a fucking pig and then out of fucking nowhere i just started romantising about a spick. Losing so much energy in that single second, this fucking obsession is a force that with needs to be reckond. Lost, hopeless, clueless and a fucking life so hectically wasted, its really as if in that second the defeat can be tasted...
Knocked down, get up, knocked down, get up and thats my lifes fucking routine; and for the last 18years thats just how its been. If youve never been addicted to smack than the cravings no one to you will ever be able to explain, its not just in your head it also causes in your body the most immense pain. Smack is the cause and smack is the cure, so fucking plain and simple yet so twisted and obscure. Its not even a buzz or a high or fun anymore: using just to feel normal, go on with your day and take away that immense hurt and sore...
Your mind just over and over fucking with you, you get to a point where there is fuckall about it that you can do. Hopelessly and helplessly caught inside this prison in your head, fighting and fighting and yip...enough said. Pick up the phone and make that dreaded fucking call, anything just to get yourself out of this state of withdrawel. Youve lost this battle but not the fucking war, yet now youre stuck with this problem...MORE!!!

'Skin the sun, fall asleep. Wish away, soul is cheap. Lesson learned, wish me luck. Soothe the burn, wake me up.
I'm not like them but I can pretend. The sun is gone and I have a light. The day is done and I'm havin' fun. I think I'm dumb. Maybe just happy. I think I'm just happy'

Nirvana - Dumb

OK?

Clinically insane, to much chemicals have been pumped into my brain; rotting at the core, still i want more. Everythings fucked, how much of this couldve actually been avoided or ducked, logic overdrive, fuck atleast im stil alive. What a fucking compromise, atleast i didnt get the heart-attact surprise - thats Junkie logic there: atleast i still care? Far fucking gone: well, prove me wrong...
Only happiness is when i dream, complete misery inbetween. Two or three lives to cover: golden boy, junkie and clean and sober lover. All the pieces inbetween, how much hell and misery have i seen. Lived in hell for years, riding me over and over on my deepest fears. Knowing that i need to understand, realising what this commitment of me will demand. Do i have the strenght and power, to make it throught another hour...
See is the only thing i can do; try myself not again to screw. Focus all that i have in me, try and understand what need be. Do i make any fucking sense? All i know is that im fucking tense. Get up and wish this addiction away, once again lucky to see another day. Live for the moment and return to myself or put my ashes in a container on the shelf. You are sooo confused you dumb fuck and you need more than prayers and luck...

'Any idiot can face a crisis - it's day to day living that wears you out.'

Anton Chekhov

Up, up and a crash

How many different ways are there of expressing how lost you are? How many different ways are there of explaining how far? Frustration can only be explained in so many ways before it starts sounding like a heap of whining? Only so many ways of telling about the walls you are climbing. Going on over and over on about being annoyed, repeating and repeating about everything youve destroyed? Already working on your own nerves with all the complaining yet in the same fucking position you are remaining...
Promising yourself every fucking day youre gonna change, writing yourself letters and making plans on how your life youre gonna rearrange. So many spicks youve broken and thrown away, reminding yourself over and over there is another way. Plotting and planning your strategy on paper and in your head, reminding yourself that long ago you shouldve already be dead. Trying to use this fear of your heart stopping as a tool, over and over calling yourself a dumb cunt, an idiot, a fool...
So when are all these plans gonna start falling into place, constantly telling yourself 'watch this space'. Making a mllion plans a day just to stop, i mean for fuck sakes; dead i dont wat to drop. Then the sun rises on the day you marked as number one, quickly a last hit just before your stomach starts to run. Once again you fucked yourself hard - and youre back in the planning phase right at the fucking start...

'And a song I was writing is left undone
I don't know why I spend my time
Writing songs I can't believe
With words that tear and strain to rhyme.
And so you see I have come to doubt
All that I once held as true
I stand alone without beliefs
The only truth I know is you.'

Simon and Garfunkel - Kathy's Song

Blood and wisdom

Pieces of myself dissapearing, completely gone is what im fearing - crumbling more and more as each day goes by, costing more and more to get high. Actually a huge fib im telling, fortunately my nose isnt growing or swelling. More and more cash just to feel normal, witout a hit or two i cant even act formal, always ranting about shit, never anything else and that is it. Why the fuck should i care, its like saying this bag ill share: not a fucking snowballs chance in hell, its not even a situation of time will tell. As each day goes by less and less sense i make, more and more promises i break. Not as if anyone trusted me to begin with, buy a guitar and put this on a riff. See what i mean with the sense thats not there, just a fucking pity i dont actually care. The only fucking thing i care about is smack, god dammit 10 years ago it used to be crack, before that mandrax, coke and meth, i hope i can come clean before i blow out my final breath. Jesus christ ive been fighting for longer than half of this lifetime, fuck me sideways but ive literally missed my prime. Wasting away as every sun sets comes and goes fortunately in my face it doesnt to badly show. Still dont know why the fuck im writing, still dont know why this addiction im fighting. Losing battle from the start - to take on this motherfucker you need more than heart. Something is missing out of this story cause this battle has nothing to do with glory. Losing myself more and more: at this time i would consider a blessing as being found dead on the fucking floor.

'I am the needle in your vein, and I control you. I am the high you can't sustain, and I control you. I am the pusher I'm a whore, and I control you. I am the need you have for more, and I control you. I am the bullet in the gun, and I control you. I am the truth from which you run, and I control you. I am the silencing machine, and I control you'

NIN - Mr. Self distruct

Compose mail

Up and down, up and down, up and down and down and down, sitting on my thrown on my head this huge pile of shit in the shape of a crown. Self proclaimed king of this horrible fucking place, pin-eyed and the black rings under my eyes the only colour on my rubbery pale face. I dont have a fucking clue why im ranting, so much complaining that im out of breath and actually panting. Lost and losing myself more and more every day, wishing my fucking addiction away. How much logic in that statement i made, its like cutting my dick off with a blunt blade, no sense in that action at all, same as like going to a fucking mall - a complete fucking waste of time and space, still to myself im a digrace. Not one word of sense in anything i wrote here all i know is i wish i could dissapear. Do something except for crying and stop fantasising about dying...

'Don't believe everything that you breathe
You get a parking violation
And a maggot on your sleeve
So shave your face
With some mace in the dark
Saving' all your food stamps
And burning' down the trailer park
(Yo. Cut it.)
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?
(Double-barrel buckshot)
Soy un perdedor
I'm a loser baby, so why don't you kill me?'

Beck - Loser

He-he-mooo-ha-ha!

Trying to achieve freedom and liberty through a needle, pumping your veins full of filth for what fucking reason ill never know. Maybe i do but im just in denial about it? Maybe i dont want to realise and understand while im doing this - deeper and deeper into the abyss im throwing myself one hit at a time. Harder and harder im fucking myself and im the one paying for it; not just through cash but through blood sweat and tears - emotionally fucking myself up in a million and one ways, knowing the thruth, understanding the thruth and even comprehending it yet applying it is a completely different fucking story. Hoping and hoping this will leave my life and my exsistance yet through hope and prayer alone it wont. Hard work and lots of energy is what it will take but it has to start somewhere - you know where, youve seen where, youve even stood in that place and saw yourself: your past, your present, your future, your good and your bad, your deep and your dark even the bit of happy and light left in your life and yet you chose to take a fall backwards, standing where it all began - ready to move forward or were you? Was your journey complete or has it just started, was your life ready to begin again or was that moment just there to give you a glimmer of hope for the moment knowing that one day there will be a brighter future waiting for you, maybe even a ray of false hope; a big fat fuck you! A reminder of everything that couldve, woulde and shouldve been? Heaps and heaps of bad choices and oppertunities wasted and thrown away and now you are suffering and struggling for it. Dont know, dont know, dont know...

'And I forget just why I taste. Oh, yeah, I guess it makes me smile. I found it hard, it's hard to find. Oh well, whatever, nevermind.
Hello, Hello, Hello, How Low. Hello, Hello, Hello'

Nirvana - Smells like teen spirit

Ski-bi-di-doo-da-ski-ba-di-day

Every fucking day im battling with myself and me, this piece of info about 10years ago i did already see. Yet i cant get over the fact that to myself i am losing - and this path i chose is definately not about a easy and light cruising. Harder and harder every day it gets, more and more colourful and complicated my regrets. Losing more and more as every day goes by, still i have no tears to cry. Its in anyways not woth crying over your own life youve wasted, cause you know youre gonna be fucked up after this shit once youve tasted. Yet like a stupid cunt youll go for it, finally shooting up this dirty, disgusting shit. Fucking away everything that is good and pure: and for this fucking thing there is no quick fix or cure...
Or is there???

'Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before.'

Edgar Allan Poe

Fuck this day!

Blank and empty page for my random and screwed up thoughts to mess up this clean and clear space. Fucking stunning you dumbass oxygen thief and of organs, skin and bone you are truly a fucking waste. Everyday starts with this hectic feeling of anxiety just to say goodmorning and give me a jump-start for the day, Yip! Heroin is the only thing that can make this motherfucker of a feeling go away. Fucked up phisically and emotionally in all ways untill you get that first fucking hit: BUT unfortunately for you to survive the whole day you need another hit or five and that is about it...
The first hit is just to settle your stomach and calm your nerves down a wee little bit - i can guarantee you if you dont get it before lunchtime in your pants you will literally shit. The one after the stabilzer is there to put you in a mood just to start your day - and if you dont get it everyone must just fuckoff cause youre not in the mood to play. Just got this sudden realisation how fucked im really in the head, i need to stop this shit but im rather writing korny poems about it instead. Its as if someone just hit me over the head with a harsh dose of reality, ive known im fucked up all along but now i can see...
I need to change this fucking lifestyle of mine and fast, cause for fuck sakes how long do i think im gonna last. This fear of death has just creeped me out totally, i really need to stop this shit and set myself free! Its so much easier said than done, and in my books failure has never ever been fun. Completely fucked up a junkie with OCD, sounds fucked up and retarded but thats my life, thats me...

'Give me a Leonard Cohen afterworld, So I can sigh eternally. I'm so tired I can't sleep, I'm a liar and a thief.
I sit and drink Pennyroyal Tea. I'm anemic royalty'

Nirvana - Pennyroyal tea

Bloody arm

The sheer fucking joy of finding an usable vein, the utter disbelief when it dissapears or goes into hiding again, poking yourself full of holes and scratching around in your arm looking for it with your spick, god the life of a junkie is so much fun its actually quite sick, if you didnt pick up the fucking sarcasm in that sentence, then for you i wont show alotta hope or penetance. All of your clothes are covered with blood spots everywhere: but untill youre clean you dont give a fuck or actually care...
Walking around with blood on all your attire, to someone who doesnt know it might look like you got stuck in barb-wire. When you pick out your clothes you always make sure its shades of black or dark blue - cause when then blood starts dripping theres not much you'll do. Blood stains on your clothes or a decent hit? God! I dont even think there is a debate about it. All i know is that this stupid fucking habit need to end soon, cause you can really feel how fucked up you really are when its full-moon...
Waking up and it doesnt matter how many hits you take, this feeling doesnt want to change, alter or break. Physically you feel that youll be better of dead and if you knew it was full moon you wouldve much rather stayed in bed. Emotionally fucked up, wobbling, buckled and bent in so many different ways; Yes! U normally feel like this but its so much more intense and in your face on full moon days. To make it worse you veins fuck around cause somehow or another they know its full moon too, now you tell me: WHAT THE FUCK CAN A PERSON DO???

'Hey god, theres nothing left for me to hide. I lost my ignorance, security and pride. I'm all alone in a world you must despise. Hey God, i believed that promises, your promises and lies. You made me throw it all away. My morals left to decay. How many you betray. You've taken everything.
My head is filled with disease. My skin is begging you please. I'm on my hands and knees. I want so much to believe.'

NIN - Terrible lie

Double Cream Yoghurt

Planted solidly on the toilet or rather let me call it what it is; my 'office' chair, the sound of beethoven pumping in the background thats gently filling the air. FINALLY cooking up after a 3 1/2 hour long wait for the fucking dealer to show - and when youre waiting for drugs the time drags the fuck along, it takes forever and im not joking when i say SLOW! Every single second that passes really feels like eternity - thats every addicts' nightmare and i promise you that its not just me. Pacing up and down, then sitting, then standing again, then sitting trying to keep busy but all youre actually doing is clock-watching - so much precious time wasted while waiting for this fucker whos taking forever just your gear to bring...
Seconds feel like minutes, minutes like hours and hours feel like days. You can phone someone else and make different missions cause there is literally a thousand and one other ways; BUT 'NO!' - you had to ask him for a present and he said yes he'll give you an extra one tonight, so like a good boy you shut the fuck up and youre trying your best not to pick a fight. Every 5 minutes youll phone and the conversation goes something like: 'how fucking far are you my man!?!' and your common sense repeatedly says 'just make another bloody plan', yet the addict inside wins the fight just by saying '6 is so much better than 5' and that little 'justification' helps to keep the clock-watching alive...
By now you are so annoyed and fucking hectically pissed, although there is not much going on in your life that you have missed. Doing things you never do like watching television and reading gossip magazines just to make the time go by, but for fuck sakes you cant distract yourself enough to make it fly. Then like a voice from heaven, finally the sound of my phones ring, god dammit not one but two extra presents did he bring. All of a sudden you forget about what felt like six months you had to wait - and now life is beautiful, perfect, amazing and so fucking great...

'Lost time is never found again'

Benjamin Franklin

Holy arms

Forcing this blunt needle into my body and poking myself full of holes everywhere, pretending that its helping me to forget about my issues and not to give a shit or about anything to care? Blood dripping from my arms, over my shoes and onto the floor; but this blunt fucking needle has to do the job for another couple of hits more, if a doctor has to see me use this syringe he'll probably slap the shit out of me more than just once or twice, and then give me a big fat lecture and some uncalled for professional medical advice. Yet all this fucking shit i already know but in my actions it doesnt a fuck show...
I can sorta justify it by saying ive used ones that have looked much worse; but dont worry i did steralize them with a lighter first. Fucking junkie-mentality of mine, worst part is that its thai white and i couldve just schnarfed a big fat fucking line - but NO when youre shooting up there is no other way, than for me this fucking twisted game with my life to play. Needle, sharp or blunt or nothing at all, even if point first the motherfucking thing on to the ground had a heartbreaking fall...
Just try to bend it right with your fingernails, you dont give a fuck about the yellow and blue marks that shooting with it entails. Cause this fucking hit isnt going to waste, and drinking this shit wont give a buzz and will only leave in my mouth a bad taste; fuck me sideways but alot of issues do addicts go through; but hey, what the fuck else is there left to do? We can always just quit and straighten our lives out immidiately? Fuck if it was that simple - no problem at all would addiction be...

'My congressman says I cant give my brother a clean syringe, If he should get aids and die, that's just too bad. My senator says I can't give my sister a clean syringe, If she should get hepititis and die, that's just too bad'

Fifteen - My Congressman

Hidden love

Once again on a fucking mission to go and score; your one part is shouting NO! but another part of you is seducing you and whispering 'just one more'. How the fuck do you outwit the most skilled opponent you've ever trained and met? Cause this really looks like the perfect recipe for a huge disaster and lots of regret. After years of training and teaching yourself new tricks: Its gotten so fucking easy to bullshit and con yourself into going to get a fix...
So how, when and where are you gonna survive? How much longer can one person for sobriety strive? How much longer can you lie to yourself while keeping a straight face? How many more times yourself can you misplace? Constantly losing yourself along the way, i promise you that by itself this fucking disease wont just go away. You really have to bite the bullet and hold the fuck on, and not just for a while but for fucking long...
Not for a second can you lose focus, get angry and flip - cause in that moment of weakness all your hard work will be in vain after the smallest and most minute slip. From captain recovery to junkie deluxe in that one moment you were weak, and take my word for it with yourself youll be pissed off, annoyed and fucking bleak. That one single fuckup really happens so fast; but the after effect is a problem that for quite a while will last. And then my friend you are right back at square fucking one: and you cant even lie to yourself and or pretend that anything about being stuck here again is at all and in any way fun...

'Listen to me, child, I am what I am and you, you are my only son. Well, I found a silver needle, I put it into my arm. It did some good,did some harm. But the nights were cold and it almost kept me warm, how come the night is long?'

Leonard Cohen - The Butcher

Compose new mail

All i want to do is get out of this vicious fucking cycle, but how the fuck do you get out of it? Stupid fucking idiot, making no fucking sense at all. Just writing and writing to pass the time, wanting to break everything, the sheer joy of just smashing and breaking something, shattering it into a million little pieces like ive done with my life. Getting rid of all this anger and stress, just to be able to let go. How much more do you think you can take, a hit makes you feel better at most for an hour, craving for the rest, more and more is all you want, cash is king, a king is what dealers treat you like if you have it - their best friend. Shit is all that this crap causes. Shit is what you get treated like by your worshippers if you are broke. Broke is what you are most of the time due to this shit. Yet you cant stop worshipping it, pants torn, knees bleeding from all the grovelling, you know right from wrong yet in this reality wrong is right. The more wrong you do the better you feel or is that worse, short term, long term, you polish a turd and its still a turd. Sick of fighting, yet fighting not to get sick, dont know, doesnt show, how the fuck do you let it go?

'You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you. You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you. Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I've got no soul to sell. Help me the only thing that works for me, help me get away from myself'

NIN - Closer

Freedom

Trying to feed yourself liberty through your veins, trying to rid yourself of lifes aches and pains, causing more crap than what your taking away, sometimes you're not even glad to see your next fucking day. I actuaully dont even think ill know freedom if it bites me under my ass, probably not even if you chafe it in my face like splintered glass. Its sorta like being penetant these days, not one sign of being sorry in any of my displays...
Just going forward fucking it up more as i go along. Sorry? Nope - just singing my happy little song. Completely oblivious to the hurt im causing to everyone, and all im doing is trying to have fun? Seeing killing yourself slowly every day as fun? No wonder everyone that loves you decides to run, and as much distance they put inbetween yourself and them, always pretending not to notice you when they see you again...
Well i really dont have a motherfucking clue, as to what the fuck i must do? Always fighting this monkey thats cruising along, pretending to enjoy life and singing my happy little song. Yet on the inside im dying a million deaths, counting down to my last breath. Dying sounds like such a nice and easy way out but thats not what overcoming this bitch disease is about...

'Forget about yourself's. Forget about your culture and forget about your history and just fly. And just fly. Your anger is a gift!'

Rage Against the Machine - Freedom

Fuckup deluxe

From being 100% clean to shooting up again in a fucking week max, now is the fucking time for me to sort my fucking head out and pause, stop and relax. The worst feeling of defeat youll ever taste, all this energy it takes to come clean; what a fucking waste. But why the fuck would i want to fall back into that routine: cause a couple of the few unhappy endings for this story youve experienced and even seen. Yet without even giving a single thought about it? Spick, spoon, strap, water and youre cooking that shit...
The only feeling you get in anyways is this huge fucking feeling of regret, not even considering all the shit it causes, the double life and all the fucking bad debt. Sinking lower and lower as every second goes by, god when your hooked on this shit does time not fly. After you blink just before you open your eyes, you are in for a huge motherfucking surprise. Quick, quick and once again youve completely fucked out, all you want to do is kick your own ass, call yourself a cunt, scream and shout...
But at the end of the day waht good would that do, youre the one that yourself did screw. You are the one that made the bad choice. Fuck! The other day you were just celebrating and jumping with joy cause of rejoice. I suppose you can only start celebrating the day you die, not possible but thats when there is only one or two people who will sit and cry. But they shouldnt, cause finally this battle of yours is over and done. And only after youve died this battle youve won...

'What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know, goes away in the end. You could have it all, my empire of dirt. I will let you down. I will make you hurt'

NIN - Hurt

Drugs = Disaster

Its just ludicrious to think that this badly your life can rotate around heroin and grass, look on the bright side - it cudve been mandrax, crack and glass? God dammit but thats a depressing thought, deluxe model .02 - and this is how amazingly hard yourself you can screw, cause justifying heroin and grass with all that other fucked up shit? More fucked are you than what you thought and by alot more than just a little bit...
You open your fucking eyes in the morning and the first thought to cross your mind is 'smack!', fuck it would be amazing to get a bit of normality back. The luxury of getting a good nights rest, i mean even just 5 hours of unmedicated sleep at best. That will be like heaven on earth, something that can be compared to a new life or the feeling of rebirth? Its not worth it to cry about this shit now, but for fuck sakes its really hard to to get rid of this shit like for fuck sakes - wow...
For the millionth time where the fuck do you start, im over this: find your true self and just look inside your heart. To someone whos never been here its much easier said than done and i promise you that going cold turkey there is not one bit of fun. Maybe if you like crawling out your skin and having and for a week having cramps and water running out of your tummy? then you might consider it cool or even funny? But if your that twisted and thats your idea of fun then i promise you youll do better if you blast a hole in your fucking temple with a gun...

'try to run, try to hide, break on through to the other side'

The Doors - Break on through