"the dreamer in his corner

wrote off the world in a detailed

daydream that destroyed, one
by one, all the objects in the
world.
Alcohol used in combination with other depressants, such as barbiturates can
produce life threatening respiratory depression. They have a synergist effect on the
brain when used together, much more so than when used alone. This effect has
been studied in rats who were administered ethanol and pentobarbital. It was
showed that these two drugs had a strong effect on GABA receptors. Usually,
respiratory depression is treated by ventilatory and circulatory methods as well as
getting rid of the drugs' presence in the body. Through this study, it was found that
ampakine CX717 could help counter the effects of respiratory depression. This
proves to be a viable option for treating the dangers of interaction between alcohol
and other depressants.
thorns of roses breaking skin, you're sweating sin and you are petty crime,
premeditated murder, grand larceny
I will name my baby girl Eleanor it has a air of grandeur and neurosis like a funeral
pyre of your rst love
if I died U would breathe in my ashes into your blackened lungs and run away with
ur Parisian mistress
you lie with religious icons and whisper sweet nothings with a forked tongue
all my words sound the same same same all my thoughts remain fucked fucked
fuck me who do you think I am ?????
I am how you grasp your cigarettes
I am your wet dream
you have a touch like cigarette ash, broken glass
you want to be my daddy but you can't choke me hard enough
there isnt a pill i wouldnt swallow
there isnt any of me left on your bedsheets
bones composed of spread legs, forked tongues
was i in your dream? where is your exit wound?
paper thin skin, open mouth kisses
i cant forget what you taste like
all i left behind was smeared lipstick stains
step one
the disease of addiction can take many forms and for me it is to drugs, chaos
and general self destructive behaviors. its complex and affects many parts
of my life and others who love me
my disease has been active through obsession, anxiety, depression, self
loathing, compulsive behaviors and general unhappiness
when Im obsessed, i need answers, i need things to go my way, i need to
know a solution right then, i need what i want, my mind races and i do what
i can to achieve what i want, i cant get out of my head
sometimes i act on thoughts without realizing consequences, im impulsive
and i follow my gut feeling without asking others and its usually distorted, i
behave compulsively and what i want becomes more important than
anything else or other peoples needs
being self centered makes me selsh, only see things through my point of
view, try and inuence things to work out best for me, have my cake and eat
it too, get involved mentally in things that arent my business
physically - ive gone through withdrawal, stress makes me sick
mentally - anxiety, self loathing, self doubt, overwhelming fear
emotionally - caused me to be irrational
recently my addiction has made me lose focus of where i have come from
and lose my gratefulness
yes ive been obsessed with my past, what people think of me, people
pleasing, it takes up all the space in my head (my anxiety)
ive been saying things im doing are for solely closure where some is self
seeking, wanting to be more important, wanting to be missed, wanting to
show how much better ive become for selsh reasons
ive blamed people for my anxiety, depression and for making bad decisions
putting all the focus on them
i have made my recovery seem less strong than other peoples, i compare
myself to everyone and feel like Im inferior. my addiction is certainly bad
enough compared to other peoples but the problem lays within thinking im
good enough compared to other people
yes, yes, yes. i feel like i should know better. i feel like my anxiety and
depression are because im not working the program enough or that there is
some moral failing within me
im avoiding action of taking care of myself because i feel overwhelmed and
like ill never achieve relief
i came to recovery because i had enough, i was in too much pain, i felt alone
and like it was a life or death situation
working step one again is to work through my anxiety and how it relates to
my addiction
i rst recognized it as a problem when i went to rehab the rst time. it was
the rst time i felt like i needed drugs and alcohol to feel happy. i tried to
correct it but not fully. i wasnt ready
sly eyes soft thighs easy lies please try mascara smeared on satin- pillowcases dull
dreams weak knees turning black shooting smack i think you could be my baby but
your friends say im a bad girl a sad girl a mad girl but you still lay me down and
kiss me miss me i'm your sin
i miss the boys with early graves who say my name when they cum i miss the girls
with the heavy eyes who give me white lines in the school bathroom
as I wipe your cum off my lips you say i fuck you like an angel but you don't want
me in your heaven
you told me my pussy is heavens gate
i tasted like valium and four glasses of champagne
slid your slippery ngers into my mouth so i could taste your pleasures as well
you could use me as you saw t, bending me over your grandfathers wooden desk,
my panties were always so wet for you
wrapping yourself around me, ensnared in your intoxicating gaze
fuck me hard enough and youll fall in love with me
and the way i ran my tongue over the depths of your existence in my best lingerie
i melted into your mattress and when you fuck her, you cant help but remember i
am your medicine and she is the placebo
i grew up in hospital intake centers, constant evaluations
can you remember these three words - bell, pear, tree?
count backwards from 100 and take these pills
i grew up in between the legs of sweet girls who just wanted to be free and chose
heroin over me
fuck me in the bathroom for one more line
i grew up in the basement of my parents house
hiding from everything except 1950s horror lms and the virginities i took from
doe eyed boys
i grew up swallowing smoke and cheap vodka, over medicated
i couldnt fuck people without poison in my veins
i grew up in the streets of harrisburg
walking home on front street at 4am, blacked out and alone, looking for the
prettiest ower
i grew up in the midst of hopelessness, chronic illness and the looming threat of
death caused by my own struggles
your skin felt like velvet, and now it feels like rotten wood
i collected pieces of you but your words are cheap
sweet dreams baby girl i love the way you suck my cock and i love the brazenness
of your ways, you dont give a fuck about me and i could care less, i just want to
be your bad habit, you sure are a raving beauty
10/2
i should write more often, they say its cathartic to journal and that its an important
part of recovery. i feel empty, and utterly bored. just completely apathetic about
everything in my life. my head and my thoughts always feel broken or stuck. i cant
quite explain it but its unsettling. i don't have any perspective of hope when i'm
acutely experiencing depression. i don't know how to x it and i know it takes time
but I'm so so so tired of this. its so hard, everything, every task is a struggle. my
world feels grey, no enjoyment in anything. anxiety over how to x myself, the
truth that i can't and i am having trouble accepting that this is a permanent struggle.
id almost rather be physically sick because i feel id have a better chance at
happiness. these feelings are almost meaningless and i struggle to nd some sort of
meaning in my sorrows. i wish i could create something genius, like those artists
and writers who everyone praises despite their severe mental illness. despite,
despite, despite. thats not a comfortable word for me to say. i want something
positive to come out of this but i don't see what can when i'm in the midst of this
fog. FOG - exactly how i would describe my feelings. a sinking feeling in my
stomach. existential crises. constant fucking cravings for sugar and carbs but OF
COURSE those affect my mood much more. goodbye for now, i need to nd a
fucking chocolate bar.
daydreams and hand tremors
baby, oh baby, ill put on a show for you"
do you talk about me in therapy?
have you forgotten how gentle i am with you and your sorrows?
"god-forsaken is beautiful too"
am i your unrequited love?
how does she compare to me?
the circles under my eyes are dark and this misery is a heavy curse
life was not a valuable gift, but death was"