I did cocaine then wrote this.


I don’t know what to write, but I thought it was important to write something. I’m typing this on my phone with trembling hands, a numb tongue and throat inside which a bitter drip is sliding down. I’m very warm. I’m listening to 21 Pilots ‘stressed out.’

Do I feel bad? No. I feel hot. Not that kind of hot. I mean my body is so full of heat and it’s wonderfully unbearable. I feel good. I feel very good. And at the same time I feel normal. How I should feel. I wish this feeling could last forever. But the best part of the feeling is that it isn’t locked in stasis. (Wow I sound intelligent.) The feeling ebbs and flows and peaks and dips and the lows make the highs even higher. So in a way I don’t want this feeling to last forever. I want it to fade, so that I can get my crappy substance that seems to control my every waking minute (and sleeping if we’re talking about using dreams) and crush it up. Cut it into lines. The consistency is like a kind of bitter white eyeshadow. Soft, but able to form small rocks if you mush them together. Easy to break apart. I would crush it up, cut it, chop it with the side of my driving licence making grids of soft powdered damp dust. I’d be able to once again roll up a train ticket, realise it’s too thick to use and rip up my Waterstones receipt for a book I impulse bought, roll it into a delicate straw and sniff it into my raw nostrils that are crusty with dried blood from its  previous flake abuse. I want the feeling to fade from my front teeth, my tongue and lips. I want it to fade so I can run my dry finger over the counter top, collecting bits of squishy rocks and almost moist powder and rub it back into my gums. I want it to wear off so I can then dip my now wet finger into the bag of whatever-it-is-I’m-not-calling-it, and lick up large chunks of soft snow. That feeling as my whole mouth slowly loses its feeling. The euphoria kicking in, confirmed by the numbing of the mouth.

I want all that. I feel all that. But the thing about coke is that you constantly feel like you’re on the cusp of having even more fun, if you could only do another line.

Another one, another one, another one. Will it ever stop. I feel it fading. I feel it FADING. I’m so annoyed. I’m really fucking pissed off. It’s like I’ve been watching a digital clock for a while and it gets stuck on 23:59. Never hitting midnight. Never quite seeing that weird mental satisfaction that comes with the completion or resolution of mundane events or actions. Everything is off. The world is not my own. I am the only one awake in this crazy world.



It wore off. I feel numb in all the wrong ways. I can feel my mouth…but I can’t feel anything in my head. I’m blank. Numb. Nothing. My life is devoid of feeling once more.

Praying for forgiveness, guidance and acceptance in this lonely world,


One thought on “I did cocaine then wrote this.

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