Your day cant start untill youve gotten your first hit, sad reality for your life but that is it. Cant think about anything else than smack, every day fighting to get your life on track. Trying fucking hard to cockblock yourself to get out of this horribly fucked up routine but its so much fucking harder than what it seems...
The first 10 minutes of day one is quite cool and then after a shower your mind starts to work overtime and for a hit you start to drool. Then pacing up and down fighting with your pet monkey, after he wins and convinces you that you are a fucking junkie. You start counting you money and then you think you situation is quite funny. You jump up and go and score and for the rest of the fucking day its just 'one more'...
'Gonna get back to basics
Guess I'll start it up again
I'm falling' from the ceiling
You're falling from the sky now and then
Maybe you were shot down in pieces
Maybe I slipped in between
But we were gonna be the wildest people they ever hoped to see
Just you and me'
Counting Crows - Recovering the Satellites
You have such a talent, you are truly a great writer. What you say speaks loud.
ReplyDeleteI hope that you will be able to over come this sickness, I really do. I know it is so hard, but I believe you have the strength to pull through! Be patient with yourself, nobody is perfect.
I know I don't fully understand what you're feeling, but somehow I just know that you're going to be okay.
I wish I knew how you feel so I could say something that might actually mean something, but I don't know exactly how you feel, because I'm not you. All I can say is stay strong, keep fighting, I can see that you want to change. When there's a will there's a way.