When you were born, the first liquid consumed was likely milk. Whether or not it's considered healthy is debatable. If you're lactose intolerant, water would be the sole lifeblood that carried you through to the point you're at now. As time went on, either beverage likely became commonplace with repeated consumption thereafter soda pop was introduced. Surpassing the juvenile stage of life, alcohol entered at some point and in some form.
Your first beer was icky, and your first shot of whiskey burned with its distasteful introduction to your liver. However, either that day or one after it, you continuously drank alcohol without taking moderation into consideration. Why? Easy: the result causes temporary euphoria. Whether becoming intoxicated emanates from convivial intentions or a depressant amplifier, forcing the body beyond what it can digest per hour quite simply makes problems vanish for the duration---searching for that euphoric recall. Repeated instances begin to hinder life outside the bottle, and the people watching that life.
Simple process actually: man takes a drink, drink starts to think, drink takes the man.
Alcohol is my poison, and my name is Zachary.
Hello. I'm NOT an alcoholic, although I do enjoy to get fucked up a couple nights a week. Six times out of any given month I drink excessively for social reasons or quasi-work-related steroids . . . however, the other two times of the month, I drink to amplify my depression and downright loathing of the human race and cry uncontrollably at how fucked the world is. This is my pain, this is my weakness, and quite possibly, this is the vomit I will continuously return to until my closest loved one reads my eulogy.
I'm not wrong . . . and neither should you be, therefore . . .
Numb Yourself.
Do whatever you have to do in order to temporarily dismiss the ache in your life. Nah, I don't want to even say 'dismiss.' A more proper way to put it would be to "ignore everyday agony." We all have it so stop lying to yourself. Every person reading this sentence has thought of how they would preferably and purposely stop their heartbeat and thenceforth cease to exist in the world today.
Life is pain and heartache. The fact that we're forced to work to acquire money so we can go spend it on bullshit that's supposed to make our lives easier is a fucking contradiction to our life span to begin with, but this is the world in which we live.
We deal with shit every day of our lives; total bullshit we shouldn't have to endure.
But we tolerate it all.
We tolerate users IN our lives and abusers OF our life.
Tolerate family members who we really shouldn't give a shit about, but because of bloodlines and such, we're expected to unconditionally love them despite their lazy and completely fucked lifestyles.
Tolerate the people we chose to fuck when actually whoever we're bedding-down with that night/week/month doesn't deserve chunks from our puke; maybe he beats you; maybe she cheats on you, or perhaps there are men and women out there who are married and perform daily fabrications onto each other's naïve nature and you're simply a friend listening on the other end of the telephone who knows you used to fuck one of them.
Tolerate a boss who belittles/sexually harasses you at every opportunity simply because his name is on some meaningless business cards. Do you even like whom you work with? I doubt it, but more importantly, do you respect whom you work for? I highly doubt that one.
Tolerate physical pain in our own bodies, for Christ's sake: back pain, knee problems, migraines, toothaches, weak bladders and fucking erectile dysfunctions. Maybe you're fat and wish you weren't. Maybe you're a midget or worse yet, in a wheelchair with a brother who can't feed himself without spilling and now it's up to you to play the parent while Mom secretly architects new ways to sneak vodka into her beverage without Social Services knowing.
Tolerate local laws that burden you on a weekly, if not daily basis. Taxes, parking tickets, OWIs, cell phone service charges and ridiculous gas prices. Maybe your worries span globally with lack of education, Social Security (and Homeland,) Iraqi war, insufficient funds for health care or perhaps you try to end hunger in America by contributing to the tub of dried foods while leaving your local grocery, but while driving downtown on most days, see for your own eyes that your offering just wasn't fucking good enough.
Tolerate our own mental pains: schizophrenia, child abuse, Attention Deficit Disorder and such. Maybe you were raped 13 years ago and still can't hurdle the pixilated memories; stripped of a sense of purity. Or there was a shooting you were innocently involved with, which now and forevermore create sweats and panic attacks every time a car backfires or some impatient UPS delivery fuckhead bangs at your door. . . . Or maybe, just maybe, you still strive for acceptance from your parents because all they really do is make you feel like shit every Sunday but you hide your tears while eating mommy's casserole and avoiding Dad's shitty remarks at where you're at in life now. Doesn't matter.
It's all mental anguish!
It's all pain we tolerate.
Let me repeat that: IT'S ALL PAIN. So . . .
How much more can you take?
Well . . . seems just like how our own bodies from the eyebrows-down can ward off cancers and such, our very own brains have a certain resilience to adversity as well (with a little help, of course.)
And as we sit in our little, worthless lives and wonder what's next, we will sporadically attempt to numb all that pain in our head, won't we?
Heh. Yes we will, mother fucker. Pick your poison:
Misery's Medicines
MARIJUANA
Well, there are LOTS of factors that go into play on how smoking herb can affect you: your body weight, metabolism, body's ability to handle a toxin, possible allergy, etc. There are also 2 distinct type and lots of different hybrids of marijuana.
Sativa---gives you a calm, relaxing, mellow type of high. Indica---can give you a more euphoric, trippy type of high. Try to take things slowly and know when to say when. Don't be ashamed of how much or how little you smoke. The main thing: enjoy it while you can. If you start to get a good buzz, lay off for a little bit until you want to further forget about your day-to-day grind.
COCAINE
Brew yourself a pot of caffeinated coffee, really strong. I mean strong enough to make you sweat then drink it really fast. Afterwards, take a piece of sandpaper and scrub the inside of your nostrils until they bleed then go to the bank with a bloody nose, withdraw all your money and take it home and start it on fire. Then go hang out with a bunch of people you don't like and don't trust on the days you need a confidence boost. If this sounds like good times, then cocaine might be the drug for you. Shit, man . . . sometimes confidence is all you need.
ECSTASY
There are numerous accounts of 15-18-year old girls being sexually assaulted by ten or more different partners during the course of an hour at raves, so how many strippers have taken on entire managerial staffs at strip clubs is anyone's guess. Ecstasy has the ability to suppress exhaustion which doesn't mean that the fatigue is gone but that it is only masked. After the rush, the feeling of fatigue returns more heavily and a depressive or miserable mood can last for days. Sometimes one's movements are difficult to coordinate, but when trying to forget about the ills in the world, swallow it, cross your fingers and hope for the best. Just remember, Ex is anything but vitamins, you dumb cunts.
ALCOHOL
Check any one of my previous posts. All were written while intoxicated, and you're still reading. Can't be all that bad, eh, assholes?
CRACK
Crack feels like the first 10 minutes of Christmas morning. Only problem is most people can't afford to buy Christmas presents 144 times per day (do the math,
'cause math is fun!) There's no debate here: you will lose. Like a retard in the Special Olympics, when you feel you've won . . . sorry to say, you've still lost.
HEROIN
. . . and in the end it'll take our blood, take our lives, yet whilst under the bridge downtown, the truth comes out. I am not myself even in the purest of scenes; I'm fabricated, from the outside looking in. The clouds I enshroud myself with are all pretending . . . a falsification on top of the lie. Yes. Onto others, onto brothers, buying from fathers, deceit onto mothers . . .
Digressing from drugs we must look at ourselves as individuals and identify our pains, as hardships come in many forms. Seems that every person on this planet is essentially molded into adulthood somewhere between the ages of 10-20, and whether one was beaten, robbed, raped, tortured, molested, denied, abandoned, scarred, scolded or pimped, one has the CHOICE to overcome their very own adversities . . . or continuously numb the pain through legal/illegal chemicals.
Most of us will never overcome the shit in our lives, and that's why we consume our preferred drug(s.) And there will come a time in this country when the government will figure out how much money there is to be made off people temporarily numbing their pains in life, and it's not petty millions, either. I'm talking billions of profit; enough to fund 3 Vietnams, 5 Saudi Arabias, and 15 Iraqi wars without pulling essential services/human beings from the United States while many of the people who voted for the particular administrations
suffered during their government's bullshit on some other mass of land here on Earth.
SUFFERED.
But, ya know, like Damian paraphrased here on CLDC and said to me personally last month, "In life, one must choose between boredom and suffering."
From what I've learned, suffering means you're actually alive inside . . . so deal with being alive nowadays in whatever way you can.
Drugs = Novocain for the brain.