Category : Diary/Journal

Sub Category : N/A

I've been told by numerous people that I am "wise beyond my years.”
That I was born in the wrong decade;
I don't think so. 
I mean, sure, I'd rather have grown up in the 60s or 70s for musical and revolutionary reasons, but I may not have made it as far in life as I had with the past decades' over-indulgence of sex and drugs.
We live in the age of immediate access and instant gratification, which is what I'm all about. 
I mindlessly self-indulge in things that work as quick as the striker hitting the base of a round after a trigger is pulled. 
Most days I feel as though the skilled and ingenious syringe was designed solely for me. 
If I had been born in another decade, say, the 60s, I'd still be a strung-out junky, with the same sick love for the needle. 
It’s that Immediate gratification that fuels my addiction. 
And my addiction is my life. 

My addiction had gotten to the point where I wanted to shoot up everything I could.
And now, I nearly have. 
But deep down, past my addicted self, lies my child-like soul that cries every time a needle breaks the skin, regretting the day I had been curious enough to try it.
My soul is now an apathetic stranger who avoids me when we pass each other on the street.

I am forever under the influence of a mind-altering substance. 
However, even when I'm sober, off of everything, I'm still under an influence of some kind. 
Or rather, someone else's influence. 
That someone becomes more addicting than most drugs. 
Throughout years of using, I've found that the strongest drug befitting for me, is not a substance, but another human being.
And it’s seldom someone other than—
...a girl.