Drug of Choice

Truth be told, we're all on skag. 'Cept we don't call it skag no more. Not skin popping, not none of that. But we all on something or other.

Some people actually use drugs...sometimes I wish I was that privileged, to turn to another substance to disappear from the depths of my own abyss...but I'm not. And sometimes I thank God that He has a greater purpose for me. It's not the substance, but I still get high. For some people it's the liquor, the pill, Mary Jane, sex, or a whole host of other drugs.

For me, it will always be, has always been, is right now...Love. Stupid shit. I gotta be the most down to Mars female you've ever met, but sometimes I just feel like a fucking loon...sorta like the way a junkie nods his head or smokers have red eyes, drunkards slur their words, and I, I lean into my pillow like he's the man I wish was there. It's all types of love though, not just what is it? Agape? It's the passion for what I do, for discovering who I am, for discovering who can handle, and love all of that.

It's movies and books and plenty other arts that I get lost in, just as unhealthy as anything else, my defender and my prosecutor all at once. Time will pass, and I'll wonder, "Damn, was I on that?!" But right now, I'm not clean, I'm not in rehab, and I'm not caring. I'm a user...but I can't quit anytime I want to.