pushed them miles away from me.
All I had left was Mary Jane, the genie in a liquor bottle, cigarettes and the queens deep in my pockets. That was my life; my obsession, my very own prison, my custom built hell and above all my cycle of death.
A ‘wise guy’ once said humans die everyday when we sleep. I was starting to believe him. The loneliness would bite till the alcohol had taken its toll along with other so called ‘stimulants’ then I could eventually pass out and wake up the next day remembering nothing with a clean slate, a new life and a new emptiness.
Chapter 9 take me back
In the so called modern world, people are only ever ready to share their pain, never their joys. People only come together in hard times, funerals, fuel crisis, recession, terror attacks and tragic events. When everything is well, everyone goes back into their own corners, trying to be better than their neighbours or best friends, gossiping, plotting and scheming or whatever they do behind closed doors. Everyone else becomes the competition and then shortly after turns the opposition and then the enemy. At this point I was like an extra terrestrial looking into the world to see if it was habitable and seeing this put me off and in a way even justified my way of life, far from modern society.
Everyone pretended to be someone else so no one was special. Being better than the next man was good enough for some so there were no high flyers if nobody was flying. I would some times wander why couples would fight and despise each other, or why friends would turn around and gossip about each other or feel bad to see their fellow mates prospering or getting further than they could instead of sharing their joys as they shared the