Another day in the dumps of the reality that was sure to surface. I knew it was coming. I just knew it was. I’m in my own world as usual, just bouncing off the walls that were built many years before I got my mortal body to experiment with and eventually destroy. How nice of God to give us our bodies to be metaphorically used as temples. Along with amazingly created bodies he gave us plenty of temptations to destroy what he gave us. He knew our path before we chose it so if this God is for real why should I worry about anything. Everything was planned out for our supposable well being, so either way I‘ll end up on the right side of all the wrong I haven‘t been able to stop doing yet… right? I question God so much I’m starting to hope he doesn’t exist because he’s got his questioning about me probably which is a bit more omnipotent than mine.
This is so distracting. This guy that’s sitting next to me is happily waiting intake to detox. I’m angrily humoring his rambling ass pretending I give three shits about all his plans he’ll never follow through with after his trip back down to earth. I’m probably as high as he is now, I just contain it better, I think.
Anyone could tell this guy has no clue what he’s in for. He’s a little on the green side talking shit of how this is his first time to rehab. And he just got high one last time before he committed to actually quitting. He’s blurted to any ears in hearing distance about how he’s quitting for his girlfriend. He goes on about how he’s graduating high school next year and he’ll never touch the stuff. He’s done.
Yeah fucking right! I won’t even bother running down in my head the many disastrous directions this young man will go. He will not do what he’s saying. He’s just tweaking hard. Logic doesn’t reach the altitudes with such thin air. Up high and skating on thin ice and doesn’t even realize it. It’s kinda sad if you want to think about it. I don’t. I’ve got enough of my own depressing things to help me imagine the scars I’d probably end up with from failing suicide from slitting my wrists the wrong way.