Addiction is nothing more than a temporary proposal. With the promise of happiness in the form of a pill, needle, paper or plant. A bargain that cannot be denied to the beaten and bruised. An agreement that must be met with consistency owing to the fact that the moment the consumer is forced back into their despair by the mistress of manufactured moods, they cannot help but risk their lives while sacrificing their assets into a hope of escaping for even a second. To be free from the chains of reality and to finally soar into the clouds of self retribution, even if it is to walk along side the path of self destruction. How is one supposed to continue their horrendous and torturous existence if they know there is a whole universe of sensation and utter astonishment right behind a door which can be opened only with the promise of relinquishment. A surrender of well being, morality and a measly couple hundred bucks. How could one be so blind to lack understanding to the point of acknowledging the escapees with a sense of repugnance and aversion. It is this reaction that makes it even more tempting for the battered to partake in such an occupation that does its job without fail. Will the paradox end?
YOU ARE READING
Tragically beautiful
PoetryThis is more of a poetry piece rather than a story and although it might be pretty amateur I hope you enjoy it.
