I was looking at the moon last night - almost full, and - if scientists are to be believed - shrinking, growing smaller with age - and thinking that I'd like to take up drinking heavily and doing drugs again. Was I any happier then? No. Um... NO... but I rarely knew this. I spent so much time in an altered state of mind that I only realized I wasn't unhappy until I was sober, and that is a state of mind that can be easily remedied.
What stops me? I don't know... Actually, I already have so many drugs running through my system that I'm not sure if I've been able to count myself as 'sober' since the age of ten (I was such a precocious child). I know that the doctor told me, more than once, that taking up with my friend crystal meth would kill me, but the medical profession has been telling me I'm dying for years now, and, yet, here I am - ticking away whether I want to or not.
All I want is what every person who embraces drugs and booze wants - to stop feeling what I'm feeling. Why can't they make a fucking drug for that? Most of the junkies in the world would become Wall Street execs and surgeons if they could swing that; street whores would all but disappear; teenagers would take up rugby or some other shit.
I think tonight I'll be content with getting very, very drunk on Southern Comfort and I will suck the soul out of my bong. I would very much like to become unconscious before nightfall, and stay that way for a long, long time.
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