walking

I'm so fucking high right now that I can't even stand. Or walk. I hope this is coherent. I hate my life. I've given up stealing, I feel like things on the edge of getting better... but they have to get worst first... closer the holidays get... the worse I am  going to feel and the more drugs I will be taking.  My life hurts. The working all the time. The keeping up appearances with friends. Pretending. God the fucking pretending. I wish I could just nail some attractive guy again. It felt better. During and after. And if I hadn't seen Sam the day after, I'd be so much better. I wouldn't be this hurt. I love feeling this disconnect from emotion. It's peaceful, and loose.