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angryThe way my life is devoloping is forcing me to not be able to talk about what is happening.
That is an awkward sentence. I don't like awkward sentences. Let's try to clean that up.
...Things are happening to me at this current juncture that I must stifle for the time being. I hate to be dishonest, concealing the turth to me is dishonest, and it bothers me. The way this is playing out though it is in my best interest to be quiet until it comes down.
Irregardless.
Drugs.
The drugs have gotten out of hand. I am addicted.
I am now aware of this. I have gotten addicted to perscription pain-killers.
Not "gotten" in the sense that I was an unwilling participant in the process of addiction, much the opposite, I have become addicted. Much in the same way that a Buddhist becomes enlightened, it is a process in which every step is taken with mindfulness, it is a deliberate procedure that one does fully aware. So too have I become addicted.
I was painfully aware with the chance of addiction. Overtly aware that I am prone to addiction, also I knew only too well that I am self-destructive in my behavior. In spite of this wealth of information, against all sensory-data, I indulged why weakness. I gave int o the easy way. Gave up the path of righteousness and decended into the mire of addiction.
How to I stop this now, though? I have done it before, quit habits with little to no effort, it was as easy as just stopping. The dilema:
"I am not of what sort I once was, Non sum qualis eram."
I am no longer the young man who is angry at the world and wants to destroy social norms. I am the villified inversion of my nature. I am...
How does this new version of me fight addiction? I sure as fuck don't know. I know nothing about this pussy ass version of me, except I hate him. I hate him more then I normally hate myself, especially in light of this recent developement of addiction. The old me went harder, longer, faster, and was impervious to addiction.
I am worthless now, more so then ever before. I have out spaded any amount of self-loathing I have ever had. I have reached a new level of self-hatred. I hate the very flesh that encapsulates this fucked up version of myself.
Ugh. I hate him.
I know it is weird that I am talking about myself in the third person, but this is another phenomenom of my disease; that I seperate myself into different people. It is a way of coping with stress. I can deal with myself only when I don't look at myself as a whole. I have to look at aspects of myself individual of the whole, I might vomit if I were to really allow the complete me to fall under observation...projectile vomit..."Excorist" style.
Whatever...
A Pussy
How does this new version of me fight addiction? I sure as fuck don't know. I know nothing about this pussy ass version of me, except I hate him. I hate him more then I normally hate myself, especially in light of this recent developement of addiction. The old me went harder, longer, faster, and was impervious to addiction.
I am worthless now, more so then ever before. I have out spaded any amount of self-loathing I have ever had. I have reached a new level of self-hatred. I hate the very flesh that encapsulates this fucked up version of myself.
Ugh. I hate him.
I know it is weird that I am talking about myself in the third person, but this is another phenomenom of my disease; that I seperate myself into different people. It is a way of coping with stress. I can deal with myself only when I don't look at myself as a whole. I have to look at aspects of myself individual of the whole, I might vomit if I were to really allow the complete me to fall under observation...projectile vomit..."Excorist" style.
Whatever...
