k-trooper
Bluelighter
declaration on an addict
It is one of those self-contradicting statements. I am not in denial. I am not addicted. I have plenty of excuses, self justifications, and hollow reasoning that I have become oh-so familiar with. You always hurt the ones you love.
bullshit.
You always forget you loved anyone at all. The intelligent philosophical ponderings become the in comprehendible ramblings of a manic depressive. The instantaneous confidence becomes the increasing
knowledge of my own ignorance. My thoughts turn increasingly towards the past, before the lies and burnt lungs. Like a lonely old man, I reminice about my days of blissful innocence. My thoughts gravitate towards lost opportunities, forgetting that I may no longer alter the events that have imprisoned me in this void of a human being. Sometimes I close my eyes and she is real, still in my arms. As corner of her lips tremor, as if to utter some consolation for the sate I now ocupy, her image is abruptly stolen from my impossible vision.
Leave
me
the
fuck
alone!
She’s gone. I try to bring her vision back. Her body slowly shifting under my hands as we embrace. I want the cold room, the poor kids outside, the bloodshot eyes all to be my dream, and to be awakened by her warm kiss. She never comes back. They're are days when I tell myself it can’t go on. That I’ve quit. I have lied to myself so many times that I actually believe my own desperate
declarations. There is always that last line, the final hit. Yet another one of those self-contradicting statements. The last line turns into the last week, which turns into an excuse for my ongoing dependancy. All I need is someone. Someone that understands, sees the real me. Not the facade of an addict given to me by my chemical personality.
-What the hell am I saying? Sorry, I tend to ramble on like that. Anyways... Did I tell you? This is my last line. Everyone says I'm addicted. Bullshit. Don't beleive me? Watch, my final hit.
[This message has been edited by k-trooper (edited 23 August 2001).]
It is one of those self-contradicting statements. I am not in denial. I am not addicted. I have plenty of excuses, self justifications, and hollow reasoning that I have become oh-so familiar with. You always hurt the ones you love.
bullshit.
You always forget you loved anyone at all. The intelligent philosophical ponderings become the in comprehendible ramblings of a manic depressive. The instantaneous confidence becomes the increasing
knowledge of my own ignorance. My thoughts turn increasingly towards the past, before the lies and burnt lungs. Like a lonely old man, I reminice about my days of blissful innocence. My thoughts gravitate towards lost opportunities, forgetting that I may no longer alter the events that have imprisoned me in this void of a human being. Sometimes I close my eyes and she is real, still in my arms. As corner of her lips tremor, as if to utter some consolation for the sate I now ocupy, her image is abruptly stolen from my impossible vision.
Leave
me
the
fuck
alone!
She’s gone. I try to bring her vision back. Her body slowly shifting under my hands as we embrace. I want the cold room, the poor kids outside, the bloodshot eyes all to be my dream, and to be awakened by her warm kiss. She never comes back. They're are days when I tell myself it can’t go on. That I’ve quit. I have lied to myself so many times that I actually believe my own desperate
declarations. There is always that last line, the final hit. Yet another one of those self-contradicting statements. The last line turns into the last week, which turns into an excuse for my ongoing dependancy. All I need is someone. Someone that understands, sees the real me. Not the facade of an addict given to me by my chemical personality.
-What the hell am I saying? Sorry, I tend to ramble on like that. Anyways... Did I tell you? This is my last line. Everyone says I'm addicted. Bullshit. Don't beleive me? Watch, my final hit.
[This message has been edited by k-trooper (edited 23 August 2001).]
