Thursday, October 27, 2005

Winners don't use drugs

For some reason I've become Nancy-Reaganist in my attitude to drugs. The mention of cocaine drives me wild with outrage and hearing young adults talk about getting stoned makes me weep for civilisation.

My last girlfriend did cocaine occasionally. To be honest, you could tell. She was never short of compliments for herself. The night she went off with her friends and did cocaine I stayed at home with unsupressable jealousy, anger and bitterness.

A few years ago, when another girlfriend did a pill in a club, I stormed out, ten minutes after paying half of that months salary to get in.

What in the hell's wrong with me? I used to go out every weekend and do pills, speed, acid, smoke weed, sniff poppers, poke Vick's sticks under my eye-lids and smear tiger balm on my tongue. I went to a club in Stoke a week after a kid had died there of an overdose and nearly did the same myself. I had a part-time job in a warehouse that paid £40 a week and all of it, bar a nominal amount of rent paid to my Mum, went on drugs.

But now I just don't think it's right doing drugs.

I think it just reminds me of a time that I don't want to go back to. When I was going out doing drugs that was It. That was my life. College and my future didn't mean anything to me, I just wanted to get wrecked. Now I associate drugs with that aimless, pointless way of living. It's fun at the time but it's no real life and I don't want to go back there. I quite like having a point to each day thank you very much.

You soon find out that way of life is false when you stop doing drugs and suddenly lose half your friends.


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