sometimes, i wish my life had no worth. i wish i didn't belong to anyone, i wish no one knew me. if there was no love attached to my existence, i could indulge in what i consider to be the experiment.
through pop culture, through friends and through family, i have had residual experience with hard drugs. never direct contact, but enough to see the influence they can have, the alternate universes that become so real. and ever since i hit high school, i have wanted to immerse myself into a sea of drugs. i want to do everything i've seen, everything i've heard about. coke, meth, crack, ecstasy, special k, mescaline, speed, benzos, morphine, ghb, lsd, shrooms, pcp, roofies... fuck it, i could go on and on and on. i want to experience it all, i want to have a full understanding of what drives people through these substances, of what we gain and lose as human beings through the outside influence of our own mind. i want someone else's brain inside of my head.
but... i am filled to the brim with love. i am attached to other people in a million different ways. i have a lot of people, i have a lot to be. i am so deeply invested in the person i am, i am so happy with what i've got, that i have only ever tried weed and alcohol. and even then, not enough of either to cause any kind of problems. and even though i would never give up what i have, even though it makes me whole, i find a little bit of cowardice in myself. am i so attached to what i have that i wouldn't even attempt another life? is it cowardly to be so happy that you're content and fat and unable to let go and delve into another consciousness? am i less of a person because i feel unable to let go of the fullness i have now?
i ask these questions, yet i am resigned to my life of no answers. as much as i want to know, i'm fairly certain i will never be strong or alone enough to pay the price those answers are worth.
i am whole through cowardice. fuck me, though, i love it.
20:32 | Jul. 31, 2011