I swear, one of these days he is going to catch on. I can’t believe he hasn’t yet. I barely blinked the entire time we talked. He must know something is up, I was all over the damn map.

2 Whole days. I did good for 2 days. And shit, the first piece of bad news I get, I have to get high. This is so stupid. I can’t believe I am this much of an addict. Have I really gotten to the point where I can’t stop anymore? I hate feeling like this. This antsy, guilt ridden, nausea. Ugh. Why the hell do I even get high? I got to hop in the shower, again. I am drenched. This is such a waste of time. Like I have nothing else to do. I am supposed to be looking for a job, trying to pay some bills. Gross, I am sweating. I hate sweat. I’ll never quit, let’s face it. I’ll be 65 and doing tweek. God what a thought.

That’s great. Now I am so frustrated that I got high, I am not even able to enjoy my freaking high. That’s just super. Will that damn phone never stop ringing!

“WHAT!? No, I am fine. I just had a little too much coffee and now I am all jittery. You know what I mean? Yeah, I am just going to take some aspirin. I’ll call you back.” Fool. Coffee my ass.

Oh damn, I got therapy today! Only you Sven, only you. Only you can shoot up, get pissed off and still make it to therapy all in one afternoon. There has to be something wrong when you can do a ½ gram and still actually function. I should just take a small break, bring my tolerance down. Make it fun, remember?

Okay, almost done. Get dressed; put some concealer on my arms. Not too bad for a junkie. Scars are almost gone. Only took 5 months. A rusty nail never knew it could do so much damage. NOT.

If they ever find out, I’ll have no friends left. Hell, I’d walk out on myself if I could.

Okay, where is the pipe? One hit and I am out the door.