I'm a nervous person by nature. I go through fits of uncontrollable laughter or even cry at times when things are really shitty. I care so much what people think and go crazy knowing I'm never what I should have been and never will be.
These thoughts are just what they are. Thoughts. I hate thoughts. The shit doesn't stop. When I've been up long enough to experience the hallucinations that have lulled me to believe an alternate reality, aside from the true reality I know is really there, I then except the fact that my minds in some real deep shit.
I'm to the point of losing an abnormal amount of carbon dioxide from my blood. If you don't know, that just means I'm on the verge of hyperventilating. My rapid deep breaths are getting shorter and faster. My hearts pounding through my shirt. I'm wondering if I'm the only one that can tell as I stand at the cash register with a fist full of change scrounged from where ever I could find it.
I've got just enough to pay for a six pack of Pabst Blue Ribbin. The best beer in the world simply because of the price. It's hard to make a living in this world but easy to make a killing for some reason. I've got plenty of people that would've rather not of met me after these last ten years that have passed. I've earned their hate and they would kill me before they would ever consider helping me.
I choose my paths wisely to avoid the traffic of all the haters out there. I stay in the "cut" you could say. Before I shut my system down and crash as softly as I can with this sorry substitute for a true seditive like a klonopin or something, I've got one question to self.
"You there self?"
"Yeah what now"
"Does it make you a hater if you hate haters?"
No answer. It's just like me to avoid dealing with such hard questions. How do I know?
I'm talking to myself again. At this stage everythings a blurr and I would rather be in a black out or pass out. Which ever comes first is fine and it's only a matter of time til.....................