who_leo
Showing posts with label pill head. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pill head. Show all posts

27 November 2015

You deserve each other, you and those monsters

There is no easy way to say this
but I've been thinking about turning
not running but rather
kind of like a werewolf thing
unexpected, transcendental,
not a kin to your kind anymore
I mean, who would want to be?

To be known as your ex lover
to be seen as someone you once held
it is repugnant, to think I shared myself
to the last drop, with the likes of you
your family, your friends, the lot of rats
merely scrapping by, because that is
all you know and can do.

Once I tried to help you, twice I did lift you up,
and yet three times you did betrayed me, then the fourth
you left me to die in their hands.
You knew exactly what you were doing
taking away from me all that I held dear
my own choice to say yes or no, to consent.
To you it was just a game to play
just another piece of meat to bite into.

I loved you, and I gave so much of myself to you,
and as before I was betrayed by a most heinous of acts
done by a heartless bitch just wanting to get rich quick
because you never knew how to sell your mind
the work you did with your hands wasn't enough
if it wasn't holding onto someones cock
and you couldn't do any good talking with your mouth
so you had to get on your knees and pray for milk
with your baby boy so he could eat.

You deserve all you get,
all of the lies you are fed,
all of the people who will use you,
you deserve each and every moment you hate
the smell of the garbage pickers on top of you
because your love is something to be sold
because you can be bought and traded like a commodity
there is nothing about you which is redeeming,
there is nothing about you which can be saved.

I do not want to belong to the same genus as you
I do not wish to be cataloged among the same lines
as someone who will sell their own blood young and fragile
as someone who will take pure love and corrupt it with hate
To be with you was a learning experience of all I do not want
To be with you was a task to be completed in order to grow
Now all I can think of is making my memories of you disappear
Now all I can think of is remembering you so I do not forget
Why I want to become something else
Why I want to be free of you.

26 May 2015

On a rainy day, court is in business.

There in the court
with the massive Queen
which sits in the middle of the great hall
just spitting out words to the masses, orders

Our lovely maiden–anticipates
swords unsheathed all in a row, stiff
a queue of would be gentlemen await her
across the entrance of the great hall.

While their hands tightly grasp their swords
their lips whispering of her great deeds,
it rains as the Queen loudly drowns away
a soothing sound of water coming down.

If it doesn't rain, the land withers.
If it doesn't rain, the crops die.
If it doesn't rain, there is no dinner.
If it doesn't rain, babies starve.

So she saves the world
enchanting crowds with red lips
floats across the open court
on her nimbus cloud.


14 April 2014

On Lizards

She coils like a snake
shedding her skin habitually
leaving remains of who she was,
or rather pretends to be,
along with the carcasses
of those she's consumed,
eaten whole, swallowed,
perverted.

There is a glimmer in her blue eyes
every time her tongue sticks out
to sense the air around her,
tasting for a fix, hoping
to feel the warmth of the cold night.
A field of dust is laid before her
she crawls upon it with belly swollen,
the last victim of her bite.

She leaves trails behind
as her body moves, a straw,
clearing the powdery surface,
revealing beneath the rotten ground
kept from sight, hidden,
until her swift movements
clear a woven path visible
to those who dare pay attention
to the swollen mess that is left behind.

She coils around again,
having found comfort
upon the tiled bathroom floor
of a broken down house
with cracks on the walls
as it tries to hold up the sins of a past
which extends thousands of years.
Poe would have cried
at the sight of such visage.
Skin flakes, scales glow,
her long tongue sticks out into the night
as her brilliant mind is numbed away.

17 June 2012

Burnt Marshmallow

"Wretched night" are the words that escape his lips. Walking through the back alleys of the town, garbage lines the side of the buildings, some of it is made up like homes for the indigents and lost. Each step gets heavier and heavier with the passing of time, he needs his fix. Finally at his destination, a man in baggy clothes and baseball cap with shinny stickers on it looks him over.

"What will it be?" He knows his costumers by the visage of death drawn upon their beings.

"I just need the usual... It's been a long night." A stack of singles and fives is passed from one to the other, and as soon as it is counted a bag containing tiny blue pills is exchanged.

"See you soon."

----

When he gets back to his apartment she is waiting on the dirty old couch, a thing full of smells and stains that remark the past 2 years as if they'd been decades. Her thin lips are dry and chalked, a crust under her nose and bags under the eyes makes it hard to remember what she looked like before it all started. He puts his coat on the back of the door, and crunching past plastic cups and caps that litter the hallway he scratches at his head. Thin arms and even thinner wrists still manage to gather the tools of their addiction. Straws, tin foil, and a couple of lighters of which he can't recall if they are dead or not.

"What took so long?" she asks as her head wobbles, trying to sit up. He makes room for himself on the edge of the couch as he clears some of the table by tossing a heap of garbage to the floor.

"I was just thinking, maybe we ought to get out of here soon. I mean, like... get out of here, this town, start new somewhere else." He opens the baggie and takes two pills out, rips two pieces of tinfoil, and passes one of each to her. She grabs a straw and lighter just as he does and places the pill on the metallic surface. With the straw in her mouth she begins to burn the underside of the tinfoil, a smoldering crackling is emitted from the pill as it heats up and starts to smoke, she suctions the white smoke as the smell of burnt marshmallow fills the room. He follows suit.

As the pill melts, it moves on the tinfoil, making a dark spiral as it travels on the surface of the heated metal. Their lungs absorbing the opiate and eyes widening, this is what their life has become. After two more pills they lay back and hold one another.

"I think it would be a good idea." Her hair is oily from lack of washing, she tucks it behind her ears. Pimples are sprouting like mountains across her unwashed face. When was the last time they washed? They can't remember, the bathroom is only used to defecate once every couple of days, and maybe to throw up in more often than anything else. The shower is seldom used. "I'm tired of this place, the people are horrible."

Sustaining his head like a helium balloon that has grown too heavy, he comes in and out of consciousnesses unable to talk. They both fall asleep on the couch.

-----

Sunlight. It's warmth is heating up their faces, it awakens him. She's still asleep. Getting up he feels his bones crack, falling asleep on the couch is no good for them, but he doesn't notice after a fix or two. Once in the kitchen he pours himself some water in a cup that's been sitting by the sink for who knows how many days, weeks even. After gulping it down he opens the fridge to find it empty. The last of the food stamp money had been spent on their current stash, selling them had become yet another habit meant to sustain their addiction. He serves more water and drinks it down.

Sitting on the couch he sets up another piece of tinfoil, the roll is still new and has quite a bit of the shinny paper on it. He shakes the lighter to make sure it's still got fuel, placing another pill on top he lights up. She awakens as he blows smoke on her face.

"What... oh... here..." she grabs for the paper and straw as he lights it for her. This is how every morning is spent.

"We need more money, we'll be out by tonight." His voice shakes a little, she knows what he meas.

"Alright, I'll call Hue. I'm sure he could use some release." She inhales, and holds it. Again, burnt marshmallows fill the air.

-----

She's dressed up, unshowered, but dressed up. Her skinny legs are nothing like they used to be. Once upon a time she ran every morning before going to work at the restaurant, her figure was envied, her beauty was obscene. Every man wanted her, and she knew it. Now she's just another corpse walking the street.

"Hue is coming soon, you'll have to go wait outside. Can you head over to John's and see if he can hook us up with some pot? Tell him he can come by for the money later." She's applying lipstick to her chapped lips, a bit of eye shadow, and some flush takes away the look of death. She almost looks normal, but there is something about addiction you can never hide.

"Alright." It's all he says. He gets up and walks to the door, grabs his jacket and just as he's about to close the door she says to him:

"I love you!"

"I love you too babe... call John's when you are done." He walks down the stairs and runs into Hue, he's a tall blonde man, wearing glasses as usual. He's married, but likes to get his kicks elsewhere just like everyone else. He's never asked her just what he does that he has to go somewhere else to find it besides home, he doesn't care. Hue doesn't know who he is.

-----

John's house is five minutes from the apartment, it is an old house filled with old newspapers and an array of stuff which could be easily thrown out, but John just can't seem to part with it. It reminds him of his parent's, he says. They saved all of this stuff, and now it just happened to be his watch over it, having them both gone this was the only thing they'd left behind. A house full of garbage. He knocks on the door.

"Come on in!" John screams from within. Opening the door with his think fingers, he hears the rustling of the dog as it's running towards the door. It's an old pit bull with barely any teeth left, a very lovable old dog.

"So what's up?" John is rolling a blunt, he always has pot.

"Not much, Lucy is working a job so I thought I'd come by."

"I see..." He knew what this meant, but didn't say anything. Lucy wasn't a stranger to him by any means, even shut in pot heads need to get their rocks off every once in a while.

"Hey, do you think you can front us some of that pot? Lucy will have the money for you tonight, you can just come back with me and she'll have it for you."

"Alright, not a problem." Lighting the blunt makes the room fill with smoke almost instantly, maybe it wouldn't happen so fast if there wasn't so much shit in there, air circulation might be better, but tell that to John, he'd only say that it's his house and he'll do as he pleases. He's right though, no one should be telling someone how to live their lives.

-----

The phone rings, it's Lucy.

"Yeah, I'm all done over here, you guys can come through if you want."

"Sure, we'll be right there."

-----

She's back in her regular clothes, her face is still flushed even though there is no make up on it. Her lipstick is a bit smeared, and her hair looks kind of clumpy. She's smoking a pill as the two of them walk into the living room, seems like Hue left her a tip, there is a bag with a nice stash of pills by her side of the table. This is good, he wont have to go out tonight to re up. John takes a seat on a metal chair across from them, tossing a baggie of pot on the table.

"Twenty five please."

"Here you go." She puts down her utensils and reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small wad of bills. He accepts the money and pulls out a pre rolled joint, lighting it he winks at her and she smiles.

"So what is up for tonight?" John takes a couple of puffs and passes the joint to Lucy.

"Oh I don't know, thinking we are going to stay in and maybe watch some Fifth Element." Her voice seems raspy, maybe it's all the smoking.

"I was thinking we could get some groceries, the fridge is kind of empty." He takes the joint from Lucy and inhales a large hit, coughing as if his lungs were trying to escape years of torture and abuse.

"Easy old man, you can't take those big hits with this stuff." John takes the joint from him and puffs at it. "I can give you guys a ride to the market if you need, I could use some supplies myself."

"Sounds good, now that we have a little bit of cash it sounds like a good idea." She lights the tinfoil, and sucks in more of the burnt marshmallow.

-----

It's been three days since Hue came around, and they needed more money. Lucy went to walk the streets for a little while, he stayed at home trying to figure out who he could rob and how to make a quick buck.

Lucy comes in a couple of hours later, her dress is a bit ripped, and there is something dripping from between her legs. She doesn't say anything as she passes by him on the couch, she throws a wad of bills on the table and heads straight to the bathroom. He hears the shower go on. He grabs one of the last pills and lights it up.

"Hey, Steve!" She screams from the shower. "Can you head down to T's and pick up some more blues?"

"Sure thing babe."

-----

The alley hasn't changed much, a couple of bums are fighting over the contents of a garbage can as he passes them, they don't even notice him. Shadows seem to elongate and compress, the wind is blowing and there is little to no fresh smell, it's a stink of decay that seems to linger in the inner city. Shivering from the cold he crosses to the other side of the alley where T is usually hanging out this time of night, but he's not there. Instead there is another dealer, he's seen him before. Tall and dark, with an over sized coat on, gold teeth, and a fuck you look to him.

"What you need boy?"

"Umm... where is T?"

"He ain't here... now you need somethin' or not?"

"Yeah, I need two hundred worth..."

"Aight..." He reaches in his jacket and pulls out 4 baggies, each with 5 pills in it.

"Cool cool..." He hands the money and takes the bags. "Catch you around."

"Yeah, whatever."

-----

Back in the apartment she's smoking the last pill from the last stash. There are a few bills left on the table, and the aluminum roll is growing thin. He walks in and plops next to her, setting the bags of pills on the table as he does so.

"We really need to get out of here..." He says, but just as he does she kisses him and exhales into his mouth. The hit makes him feel light headed, he forgets what he was talking about.

"You just need some more of this..." She rips some foil for him, opens a baggie, and sets up a fix for him. "Come on, smoke some and fuck me."

He get's high, he doesn't fuck her, his dick can't get up after he smokes the pills. They both pass out on the couch as the sun begins to rise on the horizon.

07 April 2012

I awaken from a dream of you into a nightmare of sorts.

Since I last wrote two people have passed away due to drug overdose. This synthetic heroin is killing people. 3 weeks ago it was a woman in her mid to late twenties, I didn't really know her but I had met her on a few occasions, a passing face one can say. I did know her reputation though, and as sad as it was it's hard not to say that we all saw that one coming. Latest addition to the count was three days ago. Brother of a childhood friend, cousin of an old old friend. Passed away much too young, 21 years too young.

That was my news this morning, as I woke up from a dream with you again, sour girl. This time it was a bit different. We lay under a tree next to a lake, not together but with one another. Streams of air passing through the branches and leafs, I could see them as they made their way over the water up to us. Red was all over, and the roots of the tree which stretched out under us like protruding veins which softly dug into us. You spoke to me, told me that I deserved so much better and that life would give to me that which I worked for. Your voice resonated against me, a feeling which now in my waking life I miss. Hell, I miss everything about the dream, your eyes, your smile, the warmth of you. As quickly as the dream began, it ended. You disappeared off the face of the earth, much like you did in real life. Then I woke up, and received a call about a friend, who 21 years too young passed away from heroin overdose.

I hate it when things like this happen, when my mind brings you out and then I'm reminded as to why I made the effort to push you away. Well, I want one thing from life, and that is my peace with you, a sober from heroin you.

16 March 2011

On SourGirls' and their need to numb away the pain.

Drugs have done all sort of things in my life. Above all it has made me realize that feeling is more important than anything, even if it does hurt, even if it does pain my soul. It's much better than being some zombie that doesn't feel a thing. My emotions make sense, they are there for a reason. I will always remember SourGirl telling me "why do you have to tell people how you feel? Keep that to yourself." Well, because it made sense. Because it was reality, it was something tangible in a world full of lost and confused souls. I wont deny myself feeling again. You, SourGirl, numbed yourself in order to not feel the pain of a past love, or something. Stop pushing it on others, just because you didn't want to feel SHIT, doesn't mean others deserve/need to be as miserable as you. I'd rather feel sad, happy, anything at all. Because it's these things that make us feel ALIVE. These are just some of the things that I've learned.

01 February 2011

Mental Miscarriage

As time passes, I find myself more out of this funk that she left me in. I must learn not to love so easily. I must learn not to give my heart so easily. I must be weary of girls and women alike. I must not allow myself to be treated like a toy for a bored little girl to play with. I still say it again and again, Blonde on Blonde by Bob Dylan... Did he read my mind from the past? Or did we unwillingly play along to his script. We may never know. But as I prepare for a second surgery, I can say that I wish she was around, to talk to and to kiss. One needs those sorts of things, part of the human condition you see. I wouldn't mind being the one doing the using this time around, as long as it was her I could dump and make feel like nothing, just as she did to me. But slowly, I'm crawling out of this funk she left me in, because I shouldn't let a girl break my spirit, especially one I thought was a woman.

16 December 2010

My head is up in the clouds

These past few weeks I've had a lot on my mind. One thing in particular has bothered me quite a bit. Thing is that after I've spent years, and I mean YEARS, talking to my friends about not doing prescription medicines as a form of "getting high," I am now prescribed to them. It's weird how the world works. Nothing else eases the pain though, what else am I supposed to do? Pot is not legal where I live, hence I am unable to acquire it. Only thing that is left for me to do is to take those little white pills, and wait for the pain to subside.

I've lost my footing. I was doing real well there for a while, being the person which people came to to talk about getting off the stuff, and how to live without it. Now, it's not so easy to face them and tell them that I am officially consuming these substances as well. Granted, I have a doctors note, and a legitimate reason to take them, but I still feel like there is no more liability on what I say.

I can say this, that I still don't want to see any of the people whom I care for get involved with these drugs, I don't want to be on them either. They make me sleepy, dopey, and numb out more than just my aching back. My mind has suffered, my social interaction has suffered even more because of it. It has made me into a zombie of sorts. I hate it.

Now I wait for a series of surgeries which will hopefully return me to a more mobile state, able to work and fend for myself, I'll finally be able to get out of moms house... again. Really shitty part is that I came here to keep her company about 2 years ago, then the accident happened, and a short stay has turned into an undetermined amount of time. Without being able to work for this time, I've managed to rack up some bills, and lost some people. But what am I gonna do? That is life, and I guess I must live it the way it was dealt to me. Still, no reason to not want more out of it. I do want to do a lot of things still, like see Ireland, England, visit my friend in Japan... All of these things, I must keep in mind. Something to live for. I lost that for a minute there, and it was scary.

w_l

23 November 2010

Today I felt like I had failed you, failed me.

Today I felt like I had failed you, failed me.

It's ok though, things happen the way they do for a reason. People are easily manipulated, and do the things they do. I was always true to my word, and that much gives me the peace of mind that I need.

Still though, I feel like I failed you.

Because I wanted to save you, and it never occured to me that you didn't want to be saved. That you were happy with the needle in your vein. How vain of me to think that I could change your mind.

Still though, I feel like I failed me.

Because I wanted to keep something for myself, that was beyond grasp and beyond understanding. There were moments that we spent that I will never forget, like laying naked in your bed holding one another.

Still though, I feel like I failed.

Because it's not easy to forget you, and as hard as I try, you always come back to haunt my thoughts, when I am reminded of all the addicts I've known, I just don't understand how I didn't see it in your eyes sooner.

Still though...

04 November 2010

Trinkets in her hair

With sinister repose
the voices all have stopped
chanting, wanting,
to come out and expose

Her feelings
they make her crazy.
Because she opt's to love
the one who pushes daisy's

It's ok though
it's all been taken care of
by the wheeling and dealing
of her peers

Of ideas and emotions
that she should feel.
Compilations of memories
erased to keep her heels

Grounded in a pasture
by the green hills
where she can show off
her new skin

But I know who it is
what it is
and how much it is
and though I love you

I'm not willing to pay
the price of my sanity
in order to spend
blissful mornings in mourning

Due to your leopard pillbox head
with your loose moments
and tight ends
it's no surprise your lips carry death.

Distress is all the same
when it's you who carries my name
lips parted and embalmed
the bodies make amends

The soul though,
it's dead
and the love,
past it's expiration date.

30 October 2010

Shortly after a questionnaire

Walking down the isle
like a sly cat on the prowl
I'm heading towards the place
where they lend out relief
in white bottled pills.

There he is
out of nowhere the one
who took away calm
and peace of mind
stole the wind from my wings
it's ok because today I notice
that his smile isn't free though
it aches of the things he's said
weighs heavy with guilt.

I'm still moved
in one way or another
not by him
but what he's now come
to stand for, after all
he's just another coward
hiding from the shades of
yesteryear.

It is her
who I wish would just realize
that there was nothing to pick
or emphasize about our quirks
which could have led us to where
we are. Nothing at all
could have made us
turn like we did unless it was fed
through our ears
by some sociopathic creep.

We were his dolls
and he's had his fun
watching us dance away
from something we knew would last.
I ought to call you a hypocrite
but the one you cheated was yourself
by listening to his lies. It is sad
that you hurt us both from the start
by Heathing to the words of vigilant Usopp.

05 October 2010

Every time I'm with you, I am drunk, and so are you.

I still can't believe that YOU would listen to what some schmuck drugged out pill dealer would tell you, and let something that WE felt was so right, just slip right through our fingers.

So what if I told people how I felt? Did that really bother you that much? Seriously, it wasn't anything so bad, it was just me expressing my want and need for you, a true emotion that could have changed our worlds because you felt it too. I never went as far as to tell anyone anything specific. And when I was sad, lonely, and felt left out I shared those emotions as well because I needed some comfort. Certainly you weren't there.

Sad thing is, that I believe you wanted the same. For a moment at least, before all of the diatribes and all of your friends telling you what you should or shouldn't do.

I knew it, because you and I shared something that I haven't experienced in a long time. You know what I'm talking about, and you shouldn't deny it. Our thoughts commingled, don't you see?

What now? Well, besides trying to forget you, and trying to get myself re-situated, I've got nothing else going on. Meanwhile, you travel the world. Not that I envy you, but I do. Because it seems like it was so easy for you to just walk away from this, like it never meant anything. You even tell me that it was all made up, and that it never happened. Do you think I'm that stupid?

You said I was peddling shit, but I never did such a thing. If you remember (which I don't know if you can, but just in case you can) I never had money. Don't drug dealers have money? Don't they spend lavishly? Because my poor self certainly didn't. I was having a hard enough time trying to just survive. Yet your friend the jack of aces is selling hard core synthetic heroin to people. Yeah, and you were one of them. You think I'm blind? Deaf? Dumb? Well, I have brighter eyes than I let off, because I saw a lot more than you think I did.

For what it's worth, I tried to save you by showing what you were doing to yourself through me, although not to the extremes that you ACTUALLY go to. Didn't it suck? Yeah, well thats how your friends feel. How do you think people react when they know you are all pilled up, or shooting up in some dark room, forgetting everything, letting go of your own self in order to attain some peace when peace was right in front of you all along.

Of course I wondered if all those times you were good to me, nice to me, it was just you fucked up on some drug or another, not giving a damn about me but just seeking your instant gratification. And you had the gull to call me a Taker? You have got to be kidding me. I know all of these things now, and I wonder how you will feel about them a decade from now. Will your upper echelon jobs save you? Or will you still remember all of these sour memories like I do. Will your veins still welcome that needle, will your body still shake and ache without the alcohol. Will you ever realize you are cornering yourself?

Yeah, you know that night, before mothers day? Well, he kept twisting my words, turning them against me. He even said that his purpose was to get me out of the way so he could have you for himself. I'm not so selfish, and maybe that was my problem. So tell me, am I right about that? Didn't it just seem like he wanted me out of the picture? Didn't you feel pressured? Because I sure did.

I miss you. I do, because a friend and a lover like you doesn't come around very often, if at all. As they say, it is better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all. And I loved you. I hope you can understand what that means, and all of the emotions that it entailed from my part. If only we'd been patient. If only that Jack ass hadn't intervened.

Oh, my "ideal friendship," right, that was me trying to accommodate to you. Because I wanted to make you happy. Though now it seems like I never really could have. Since I didn't have money, or cocaine, or heroin, or Roxy's, or any of your tall tale emotional band aids you use to hide who you really are. If only you'd realized your true beauty, the amazing strength of spirit that you harbor within yourself. But no, you let HIM drown you out with drugs and alcohol, all meant to stunt your mind. And the few times I tried to open you up he stunted by selling you drugs and telling you that I was some fucktard, when you two should have been looking in the mirror all along so you could see what was truly wrong. I hope you are happy, I hope you enjoy your life "helping others" while you destroy yourself and make your body a wasteland. Do you know why you didn't get pregnant? Because your body was too toxic to give any life. And if you had, last thing I would have wanted was a child born not just addicted to all of your pills, but also with fetal alcohol syndrome.


"What the hell else are we supposed to do?." - Sparklehorse - Every Time I'm With You.



Something submitted to an internet radio stations' web site.

CAUTION!!!! STRONG LANGUAGE IS USED IN THIS POST. IT'S MOSTLY FOR SENTIMENT. PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE EASILY OFFENDED, THOUGH IT IS RECOMMENDED IF YOU WISH TO KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT THE SOCIETY YOU CURRENTLY PRESIDE IN.




                I’ve been battling how to go about doing this, but whatever, here it goes. PILL HEADS ARE FUCKING STUPID! Ok. There, that seems pretty simple, something they might understand and maybe enough to jargon the memory of the numb to the following:

                All around there is a huge problem with pills. It’s not so much the people, as much as it is the companies who are pushing out these extremely addictive meds in huge numbers, cashing in from every single addict out on the streets who is using it up their nose, on some tin foil, or in their veins. Now hear me out, and pay close attention, and think about this with an open mind. If you are reading this and are one of those people, you need help. If you don’t do something about it, you are just going to rot away. As they say, “you better check yourself before you wreck yourself.” I definitely mean Check into a rehab facility.

                This doesn’t just happen with individuals who are on the streets, heavens no. Those people are smoking crack, or injecting heroin, doing “dirty drugs.” It’s the upper echelons of our society that have taken the mentality of “because a doctor can prescribe it, then it’s good for me;” it is a “clean drug” and not a problem. RiiiiiiiGHT. Unfortunately it is the addictive nature of these prescription drugs that gets people stuck in its clutches, those who often are either trying to get rid of pain, or find them arbitrarily in their lives through others they know, become victims to this EPIDEMIC. Either way, it is something that destroys just like any other addiction one may encounter. So be careful.

                In the recent years I have lost more than a handful of individuals to the pharmaceutical companies, it’s just that I wish I could say that it’s because they landed an awesome job or went out to become superstars. Sadly, be it through death or just having to cut myself off from them, I have found that some just drift away ridding on their modern day dragon into the clouds of their high, not having one care in the world. Because the high they chase is more important than their own welfare, that of their family, or anyone around. Some will do what it takes to keep their supply and buyers going, anything at all, like set someone up, rob, steal, and lie amongst other wrathfully deceitful things. Such is the price people pay for drugs, in particular OPIATES.

                So why put this on Bitch Slap Radio? BECAUSE I JUST DON’T GIVE A FUCK ANYMORE! Because I’m fucking tired of having people around me who I care for loose themselves in something that is just so fucking obscene and life draining. I mean, HAVE YOU LOOKED AT YOURSELVES LATELY? Is it normal for people to look like skeletons, sunken eyes, chapped lips, empty looks and nodding heads? NO! What the fuck are you thinking? Do you seriously believe that what you are doing to yourselves is OK? Do me a fucking favor, and just stop breeding. Let YOU be the last of this fucked up line. Besides, who would take care of your children anyhow? Those who are pill heads can barely stay awake and forget what they are talking about in the moment as they are saying it, what they said to you in the past including promises and just conversation in general, they become COMPLETELY UNRELIABLE! Just not worth having around. PERIOD. It’s sad that most of these people are actually worthwhile individuals who have lost themselves into the void. Sweet dreams, dreamers.

Sincerely,
One Pissed off who_leo


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