November 23, 2012
It's like listening to a good song. At first you're just trying it out. You're curious, innocent, staining yourself with the first drops of desire. Then you’re coming back to it. You're greedy and needy and then you're obsessed. You keep listening and listening and drowning yourself in the music. And then it starts to get stale. The tune doesn't sound right. The lyrics loose meaning. It becomes a formality, a melodic trap. You're stuck listening to this shitty, awful song that you used to love, and it's running on replay and you can hear it in your sleep. It shuts off eventually, but it never leaves your mind. You still wake up gasping, sweating, wishing for another taste of that shitty, shitty song. You just want the feeling that it used to bring you.
YOU ARE READING
The Diaries of Rred
Non-FictionIf you've ever wondered what it's like to do drugs, then keep reading. You'll find out. I'm Rred, and these are my diaries.
