Fucking High

Wow. Cake. So delicious. See? I'm not so uptight! I'm not even angry, I'm being so sincere right now. ^^

Anyway, I'm high right now because I figure it's the best way to be happy. And it's also the best way to diffuse hatred because these points of data make a beautiful line that point straight to idiocy leads to just completely wanting to give up on someone. I've given up on them so hopefully it'll discourage them and they'll have to find someone else to help them.

Anyway this cake is great, it's so delicious and moist.

I love you world. Even though you're swallowing me whole. Hold me nameless!

Drug Noble

You know, you dream up all these scenarious of punk kids just doing what they wanna do. Because that is the punk way, do what you want whenever you want and don't give a shit about anything else but respect other peoples' methods of living.

It almost begins to sound noble. It probably is, because it sounds way better and way more inspiring than any other idealogy I've ever been introduced to.

This new wave punk addiction is just so enticing I can't help but to wanna be them, to join them to play along. I wanna be a music junkie to their level, I wanna go rebel and get all of the tattoos, take all the drugs to have a fun time.

However, I was aware of the problems this can all cause but never really cared about them cause it's fucking just living. No thinking just moving forward and not caring. I'd give anything in the world to be that braindead. Drugs could dod that for me.

Since I know I'm not fully willing to give myself up and have that dedication it seems I've resolved to simply create little scenarious of characters in my mind, all these people have names and each one is a unique extention of a special desire. However, I've never truly decided to tap into the pain that comes from this way of living.

I've never experienced anything that wasn't fun when it came to the lifestyle. Sure their was the typical few death overdoses but I'm not afraid of death so it wasn't a big deal. Then of course their was the struggling for food and shelter but that wasn't what scared me either.

It wasn't until I met my uncle, a grade A homeless junkie that I realized how sad and how painful it all really was. To see him so happy and see his eyes so dead. So frail and so gone. So amusing and tricky, all the skills he has acquired to get the drugs get high and hide.

He is the most disgusting person I've met.

Because of this, I couldn't love him more. I wanted to hold him forever, have him continue to spin these fantastical stories as his mother's eyes welled with tears. How beautiful these pitiful and fleeting moments were.

So much antipathy. So fucking noble.