I'm caught, trapped by my own web. Spun so hastily and fierce, tightening and suffocating. I caved - I smoked the drugs again. It seemed perfect, but nothing is perfect. Idyllic warmth and pictures zooming by, twisted and distorted, so overwhelming and poignant. Wasted meaningless time. Reality pushing over the high. Amplified and fast. Spinning round and round. Smells and noise too powerful, deafening pain. Over sensitive touch and feel. The painful 'clink' of holding the metallic can. The bitter sweet taste of alcohol, dripping down my throat. Trickling until the floods erode the barrier. Darkness. Numbness. Heavy. The ending looming, the regain of the sadness.
The guilt. It was always there perhaps it was even heightened. The SI took over. The descent into hatred, disgust, disappoint. Sickened by myself. Sickened by them. Contaminated filth walking around defeated by herself. Its times like this, when I think everyone else who survived, didn't take thisv route. They are strong.I want the web to end or maybe I need it there to cling to some kind of fake normality, my safety net. Failure and fallings. Weak, pathetic, broken.