First time she shot up it was like God had given her answers to questions she hadn’t dared to ask.
The meaning of life. The nature of love. The essence of self.
She fucking loved it.
Now it was all about avoiding that go-to-hell empty sickness that announced itself with chills and nausea, a town crier marching ahead of the invading army.
There hadn’t been anything close to euphoria for a long time, but she still feels the magic power that she can banish the fiercest wolf of a jones in an instant.
If she can just find a bathroom.
What a sad story.
THere is a lot of pain hidden here.
Poetic to the max! Terribly sad tale but brilliant prose
The desperation at the end makes this addict’s tale all the more pathetic. Well done.
Incredibly sad.
Sad