Nobody Speaks

Inside there’s hunger, an appetite for disaster. Feasting on your presence only makes it last longer. But I’m far from the jury, I wouldn’t dare cross your presence with the tip of my finger. Are you receptive of my fever; conscious of your power? Ironically, I hear less everytime you speak louder. I find true beauty in your essence but less sense in your anger. In a battle to death, does anybody get stronger? Or do you look upon the remains, laugh now and cry later? Impressed about how I turn vilainy into rhymes? You were much more direct when you’d count on me through tough times. Heaven was so pleasant and seemed so far from hell, no wonder you never spoke since only time could tell.

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Friday night. The day I’m always looking forward to for the most simple reasons: I’m not working for 2 straight days and I’m getting fucked up. This is where life decided to parallel-park itself: Between making minimum wage and spending it on useless (And quite repetitive) trips. Sad thing is, the word trip takes a different form depending on your social, economic and, obviously, mental status. If I were to ask you what was your last trip – typical answer -: “I went to mexico with my family.” But if you were to ask me the same thing, I’d tell you without shame that mine was in my basement with my friends. It feels good, but when I look at it afterwards it doesn’t. I’m waiting the whole week for a recycled, repetitive destruction. I put my full dedication and self-respect into not reenacting the previous weekends’ waste of money and brain cells, but I fail everytime. I have 5 days to convince myself to enjoy pure naturally-driven activities with friends, but the fifth day’s hourglass runs over and I’m on the sixth one with Adderalls in my hands, and peer pressure from every ends. I’ve always considered myself way too wise to fall into vicious circles yet here I am, at the pinnacle of my self-awereness, writing publicly about the one that haunts me everyday. What would happen if I were to be sober in a clique full of users. The only issue for me is being the odd one out. So here’s a toast to me fully understanding I might eat dust down the path I’m going while refusing to turn back. And as I’m asking myself who around my peers is gonna fall with me, I get a tap on my shoulder and a familiar voice saying: “Let’s buy 4 pills a 20.” I got my money out even before I could agree. Because that’s what I’m expected to do, but nobody asks when it’s expected to end. And here I am again, narcotics in hand, wondering if evil is slowly dragging me towards the bottom using my oldest habits. I must stop it before these demons end up covering my few merits. 

I hope this paragraph helped you see the bigger picture because it’s monday.. 4 more days to decide how to waste my future.