As I sit on this warm open beach bedside loathing the days to follow and events ripping threw my past that beckons the future I lean back in my wooden chair arm wrests hugging me comfortably as I glance to my right and find a vividly colored butterfly as it restrains its self slowly with wings moving swiftly about it like an iris with black mascara streaked eyelashes fluttering around it, it lands softly on a sun beaten sea drenched piece of driftwood. It brings me back down to a world I’d once known, long ago, a peaceful, blissful reality I once lived when my biggest worry resided in weather and smiles to soon be perfected. That time seems so long ago in comparison to the daily horrible burdens of my new everyday life. It sends a hard stinging lump straight to my throat making it hard to swallow and impossible to think. I sink further into this black abyss it feels amazing yet so wrong, why should I a person of no gratitude or remorse for any wrongful action I commit experience once again a feeling so outer body and beautiful. This is the feeling I get from dirty drugs as they leak their thick mercury like fluid into my young innocent brain, a thing so fragile to be handed over so willingly to a thing of such violence, obscenity and general harm. The thought of this alone sends a beacon of panic threw my mind and at the same time casting me deeper into the beautiful feeling of not giving a fuck about anyone or anything but my own basic needs. It is a selfishly pitiful gaze into a life I hope not to live for the rest of my days. I’ve wondered time and again, while straight, how much do I really like the feelings invoked upon me by a sensation that is entirely illegal and for good reason. I ask myself now as I am lost in an unknown land of happiness if it is truly worth it. Yes one day I will regret my prior actions but the feeling of not caring kicks back in and all I can do is become more selfish, now even affecting my own future self.
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Fuckin Stoned
- January 30, 2008
- floating
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