Seven

It hits you to the extent where it knocks you down. It knocks you down so far you’re lying on the ground, lying, dying in a cesspool of your own misery.

It felt nice at first. You felt a little dizzy, a little blurry, a little fuzzy. You wanted more, and you went after it. You got more. You took it.

You didn’t realise that after just one hit you’d be addicted..

Then it gets warm, you can’t sleep, you’re restless, you’re thankful, you listen to one song, constantly, it’s repetitive, but you don’t care.

Side effects start to kick in, the dizziness gets worse, the blurriness turns into hallucinations, the fuzziness turns into fear. Fear for yourself, fear for them. Hallucinations, rages, fits. They begin. Not neccesarily full on at first, but they kick in, slowly.

During this stage though, it still feels good, it still feels nice. You think what you’re doing is right, and although it hurts, you think it’s worthwhile. You have patches of the downers and patches of the uppers. But this doesn’t last long.

Soon the side effects kick in hard. You regret ever doing it. It hurts worse then anything else. Your whole body feels it. Your head pounds, your hands shake. Nothing is how it was supposed to be. Nothing is how it seemed it first.

You’re knocked down. On the ground. In a cesspool. You feel almost dead.

And then you wake up. Then it gets better. You feel good again. Everything is clear.

And then you do it. Again.

And again, and again…

That’s how it works.

This entry was written on May 22, 2007 by Alexander van Zandt. It is about/includes mentions of cycles. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.