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Fuck Doctors, Love Drugs When You Can
2002-11-06 - 12:15 a.m.


before/after
strangely non-functional guestbook

I realized today, its so much easier to cope with drugs or alcohol.

Every time something goes wrong, I want to go to them, run and hide, cling to them like the proverbial mother's apron.

Its so quick.� So easy.

Of course, it doesn't last and there is no real fulfillment that lies beneath, except for a dark, scabrous underbelly that is not without its own cache or level of simple delapidated amusment.

And there are those that say it won't make a problem go away.� That its just temporary.

Well, do it for fourteen years, and some problems do hit the road.� You outlast the motherfuckers.� Stay in the cloud.� Stick and move, bob and weave.�A moving target is harder to hit.

Switch up the drugs. That mescaline was hanging on too long anyway, more pot, more pot.

And eventually you will never forget what was bothering you, but it just doesn't bother you that much anymore.� You really could give a fuck.� It becomes an end in itself.� Give me another hit.�

Its so easy.

And if you've never had a bum out, and then had a nice long drag on a freshly lit ciggarrette, then don't, I guess.� Or do.

Just know that its an easy fraud, a low rent mortgage with a big goddam balloon payment stuck on the end of it.

And a hell of a lot of fun.� I can't bullshit you.

I laughed my fuckin' ass off.� Many, many times.

But when you swim to the bottom of the well, and you realize what you're looking for is not there, its time to speulunk elsewhere.�

Lest it not be said.

Fuck.� I'm so fuckin' depressed right now.� I hope it will pass.


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