have you ever been an addict. and im not talking
about the hey-i-like-to-do-this-alot type of addict.
im talking about the
type of addict. im an addict. ive never blown anyone
to get it. i dont think i would. but i havent been
given the opportunity to either. the reason i say 'i
dont think i would' is because i like to pretend that
i still have something thats mine. dignity, pride,
standards. but i know i would easily toss those away
just to get it. i know because i have. so all i
really have is it. for one hour. for two hours. for
fifteen minutes or however long it last. however long
i can afford it to last. ill be high for fifteen
minutes if thats all i can get.
im an addict. i dont get high just to get high. i
get high just to get my mind off getting high for a
few hours. after a fix im good for eight hours.
maybe. then the last of my previous highs memory
cells dry up and i want. need. how can i get
my next fix. when. how soon. can i afford it.
scratch that. how soon.
i timed it once. seventy seven dollars got me high
for just shy of a hundred minutes. but i got my fix. and
yet i was broke. funny how they call it a fix. each
new fix is like a hollowtip exploding out my backside.
internal bleeding. external bleeding. but i dont
feel it. until i come down.
i should get help. i know. i should get help finding
it and paying for it because the more im high the more i
live. do i want to stop. yes. i want to stop
searching for my fix. i want to stop the hours
inbetween each fix thinking about the next fix each
fix whispering to me that it will be better than the
last fix. i want to stop. and i will. i will when
im rolling around in fields of my drug. when i wont
need a fix because its everywhere and i dont have to
get high because i already am and i will be forever
because everywhere i look is my drug and its holding
me and telling me that im sexy and i will never come
down because i live in a castle in the sky.
so now you know what addicts dream of.
i am an addict. and i love it. it has its positives
and negatives. and im positive im negative. or so im
told. by myself. my brain can hold two opposing
thoughts. one, that this fix is just what i needed.
and two, that i need a fix.
and now its time.
i can hear my drug calling. i pick up the phone.
i say hello.
she says i love you.
and im good for another eight hours.