What's the point? It's not much of a question if there's no answer. Or maybe the answer is that there is none. But nothing is nothing so the answer stays the same. If we live to die yet die to live, then it all just contradicts. The only substance life has is the substance that we give it. Sometimes that substance is something we abuse. Love, sex, drugs, rock and roll.
We don't always know how we got there and we don't always know how dangerous that substance that we have can be. Sometimes it's not dangerous and it's something as simple as a song. Other times it's someone who's our substance and keeping us alive. And if it's not those, it's something physical. It's a literal substance — a drug, a chemical, a poison. We all have to pick our poison.
"One fifty." He holds out his hand impatiently. I shuffle the cash out of my wallet and hand it over.
And heroin was mine. It was what I wanted. It was what I needed. It was my substance.
"Here you go." He put his hand in his jacket and swiftly put the bag in my hand. "Now get the fuck out of here."
I never stayed to hang around. I came to get what I wanted, and I always left when I was told to. I knew what I was doing to myself, I didn't need to risk getting beat up by a dealer or arrested by a cop. This wasn't my scene and it never would be. All I needed was my substance.
Maybe it was destroying me. And maybe I knew it was but I didn't care. I was okay. I'll be okay. I am okay.
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heroine ;;kellic
Fanfiction"Heroin, my sweetest sin..." he says. "I can't seem to get enough!" he screams. "Pull me under and wake me up," he grits through his teeth. "Morphine lover, make me numb!" he shouts. "Make it so I can't get up..." he cries. "Be...
