Not even once.

I think I’ve lost the brain cells that are needed to remember where I put things like my glasses or my fricken weed. I probably fried them that one time that I did meth for a year. At least I was skinny back then. I guess looking like you’re dying, with sunken grey-toned skin, and having an inclination towards stabbing your family and loved ones, is only a small price to pay to be malnourished and thin. Now I’m sitting here in bed, 15kg heavier, with peanuts resting on my tummy table and greasy fingers all over my neglected laptop.*

*That’s just an awful joke. Don’t use meth to lose weight. Or for anything. Except maybe to leave your family a bunch of money behind cos you’re dying of cancer and your teaching job ain’t payin ya shit.

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