Don’t let anyone tell you weed isn’t addictive.

{Undated.}

It’s been weeks. I’m different. Things of my surrounding world are not as they should be. I am sad, depressed even. More than alone, I am haunted by my own individuality. I feel as though I have been drugged {Probably drugged yourself, jackass.} I am not myself. I’m lying to my parents on a regular basis. I’m losing control of myself slowly but surely.

No more. I will not sit idly by and watch myself be controlled, manipulated, and used. No more will I drive across town on a whim for dope. No more playing nice with people who piss me off. Fuck them all. I will not be the easily persuaded individual I have dramatized myself to be.

{Marginalia} I wrote this as a product of my own society. Where media has turned my mind into a scared, paranoid, jumble of misplaced fears.

{More marginalia} Darkness is my enemy, it hides the faces that have never been seen. I see. In flashes and fragments. I see. I see the evil held within, and feel the ominous vibrations of horrible fears to come.

Animal Stoner Possum

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