relapse ≫ ricky horror

one

I reached for the last cigarette in the Marlboro pack and lit it up with my pocket lighter. I took a long drag of it and puffed out the smoke, then inhaling the scent right after. As several days passed by, I soon noticed I had gotten weaker and weaker. Nothing seemed to phase me anymore; I was neutral to every single situation. I was always intoxicated, shameless, and carefree. Nothing bothered me anymore, which was actually a really horrible thing. I portrayed no expression or concern to anything or anyone whatsoever.

As a kid, I was always the outcast; never really had more than a few friends. Not a lot of people liked me, but I can understand why. I was never the cool kid, I never was the first to start a tight friendship. And when I did, I would always fuck up the close bond with my friends. I liked being alone, where I can't fuck anyone up with my repulsive habits.

My parents were exactly no good, either. They would either talk mad shit about me, stab me in the back, or send me to my uncle's house to spend some nights in. That all happened during my time in high school.

But now I'm 24; I live in a small flat with my closest pal Chris and, as I've told you before, I am an addict. Chris has told me multiple times to stop with the drugs, yes. but being as ignorant as I am, never listen. He's thought about moving out of the flat, too. I guess I'm a really stubborn and aggressive guy. Most of the time, I don't know when to stop. I love danger to an excessive limit. I just love the thrill and caution of doing something bad. Call me insane, which is most likely what I actually am, but being an addict, this stuff is casual, I guess. I've only been in two 'close' relationships throughout my whole life. I have no time for relationships at the moment. And even if I did, nobody would go for me, just because of the low life that I am. All this shit was never easy for me.

But yeah, that's my life; no words, I guess.