why not?

i used to said that i was born and raised in solitude. so… being alone wasn’t something that should make feel bad, or sad, or anything.

then i tasted love. but it’s how they say right? easy come, easy go.

solitude ain’t warm anymore, even for me. the man raised by solitude. the “stranger of humanity”.

it’s same thing with life. i was born sober. i was raised sober. then i tasted the sweet blow of… some shit. and then, soberty was cold, emotionless and seems useless and stupid.

the aftermaths of love may stands for a time, but you may find someone else.

but you find drugs at any second. and when the cigarrete is over, when the joint is over, when the dust is over – all you want is that shit again.

i thought i could stop. my gf was my motivation.

now she’s gone. just me. the weird me. my weird family. my alcoholic depressive sister who hates my father and doesn’t talk to anyone besides my brother, who hates my father too. here i am. at the core of a living hell. alone.

i need someone to talk. please anybody.