I was coughing up my lungs, and I could feel the pain in my throat with every heave. On top of that, I was breathing cigarettes and I was all out of medication. There’s no hope for someone like me on a night like this. Monday night, of all days. I managed to scavenge up some grass on a lucky last-resort search, which worked swell for me considering as how getting the copious amount of resin off my bowl was too much bullshit for sober me. Even as I type this, I can see little black zigzagging lines all across my fingertips. I was just another high school student, really. I had no major impact on anything that seemed to matter in the world, if anything mattered at all. I’m the lowest of the low; An underage druggie who can only scrape up as much money as he can steal. September was not so kind to me during this time. With a new routine, people to see, and malicious goddamn germs creeping over everything during sick season, nothing was what I could call good.
