I know I shouldn’t, yet my actions would suggest otherwise. I don’t know why I do the things I do, would knowing change anything?
I’m not sure how many times I’ve repeated this mistake. I can’t say I’ve lost count, as such an occurrence is the exact reason why I didn’t keep count in the first place.
I can’t even say for certain that I expect a different result each time I make the same choice. That’s the true definition of madness.
"This’ll be the last time", an addict.
"I don’t want this", both the truth and a lie.
The drug harms me, I try to pull away. Echoes of the brief high I used to feel cause my mood and my emotions to fluxuate, I am not in control.
I become dejected, and cold. The drug is there. The disease and the cure. Square one. And so the cycle repeats.
About the Creator
Writer #567482
C:\Human\Brain\Identity.txt has returned an error.Diagnosing...
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