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One Nice Bug Per Day
Misplaced Lens Cap

#extradirty

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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
$LAYYYTER
Mike Driver
hello vonnie
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"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
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@206-pnw

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You ever feel grief for the person you couldâve been if none of this ever happened to you?
âYou were supposed to be something.â
yeah. yeah i know.
ââFunny, I donât remember no good dope days. I remember walking for miles in a dope fiend haze. I remember sleeping in houses that had no electric. I remember being called a junkie, but I couldnât accept it. I remember hanging out in abandos that were empty and dark. I remember shooting up in the bathroom and falling out at the park. I remember nodding out in front of my sisters kid. I remember not remembering half of the things that I did. I remember the dope manâs time frame, just ten more minutes. I remember those days being so sick that I just wanted to end it. I remember the birthdays and holiday celebrations. All the things I missed during my incarceration. I remember overdosing on my bedroom floor. I remember my sisters cry and my dad having to break down the door. I remember the look on his face when I opened my eyes, thinking today was the day that his baby had died. I remember blaming myself when my mom decided to leave. I remember the guilt I felt in my chest making it hard to breathe. I remember caring so much but not knowing how to show it. and I know to this day that she probably donât even know it. I remember feeling like I lost all hope. I remember giving up my body for the next bag of dope. I remember only causing pain, destruction and harm. I remember the track marks the needles left on my arm. I remember watching the slow break up of my home. I remember thinking my family would be better off if I just left them alone. I remember looking in the mirror at my sickly completion. I remember not recognizing myself in my own Damn reflection. I remember constantly obsessing over my next score but what I remember most is getting down on my knees and asking God to save me cuz I donât want to do this no more !!! ââ
â
RIP Delaney Farrell
You donât have to fight anymore. Fly high angel.
Relapse
And finally everything stops, As I held my breath, The gravity of what Iâd just done, Scaring me half to death.
And as I exhale, As I wait for the rush, There is no turning back, I have broken their trust.
And it hits me so hard, Nearly knocks me straight out, I embrace the euphoria, And peace that Iâve found.
But as good as it feels, To be free of all pain, I am riddled with guilt, And Iâm crippled by shame.
I trust my secret, To only a few, For I know all the damage, That secret could do.
But I do not regret it, For I finally am healed, I tried so long to go without, But the painâs been unreal.
So Iâll go back to dirty, Filthy as a girl can be, If it means that I never, Have this pain ruining me.

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via weheartit
Though I blame nobody but myself for the choices Iâve made that have led me to where I am today and the problems I suffer with. I do feel sad for that young girl who felt her only escape from the shit she couldnât control was through alcohol and drugs⌠I wish I could just hold her and tell her that she is loved, her feelings are valid and that everything will be ok. Iâve seen and experienced more in the last 6 years of my life than most will ever experience in a lifetime. I went from chasing happiness, to chasing an escape, to chasing a high and now I feel like Iâm chasing death.
Iâm scared to see what I decide to do with my future. I can either choose to get sober and live or I am choosing to die, likely of an overdose. The scary thing is how I have no desire to change. My health has already taken a big hit and my heart, brain and kidneys are already presenting with some serious medical issues. Unlike the other addicts I hang around, I appear ânormalâ and am functional, which to me is so much worse. Nobody looks at me and thinks, âI bet she shoots up a ball of fentanyl and meth everydayâ. I dropped out in 8th grade yet went back and graduated on time, I am a licensed medic and up until I started having seizures I was able to work normally. Since they found this mass in my brain I have been unable to work and because my employer hasnât laid me off Iâm unable to apply for financial assistance. I feel stuck, I loved my job and I donât want to quit, Iâm scared I wonât find another one with all the benefits however Iâm struggling to make ends meet with no source of income.
I know nobody will likely even read this but just as the rest of my posts, this is for me. I have so many pictures and shit that I just wanna get out into the world. I feel like Iâm running out of time and that my life is wasting away in front of me. I want to leave something, somewhere. I want people to know I existed. I want to be a warning to others, especially young people, that drugs arenât as fun as they may might seem, drugs are not a viable or sustainable solution to your problems.
If youâre someone who is actually interested in seeing more from me, let me know what you want to see. Lyrical edits? Photography? Poetry/more personal writing? Drug videos? Something else? Iâm interested in what you all prefer or if anyone even cares. Also if you have the financial means and are interested in supporting me, subscribe to my Post+ or send a tip. My goal is to make a schedule and start posting more frequently and maybe build a little community.

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âEveryone thinks the life of an addict is so exciting and eventful, like how itâs portrayed in drug movies. You picture dirty junkies running through the streets, stealing from cars and old ladies, drug cartels and gun shots, you picture us with other people, other addicts like us. Truth is, our lives are nothing like those of the junkies in Hollywoodâ itâs much more pathetic, Iâll still be an addict when that two hour movie begins rolling credits. Hereâs reality; Every day is spent figuring out how to get your hands on $40, finding drugs, doing drugs, hiding drugs, finding places to do drugs, being high, being too high, not being high enough, coming down, going up, hating drugs, loving drugs, hating yourself, being too high to hate anything, making friends, losing friends, dead friends, having no friends, getting sober, relapsing and then finding $40 again. It appears exciting in the beginning but after watching the same scenes year after year, it quickly becomes your least favorite movie. When you look around youâll notice the theaterâs empty because all of your friends moved onto other movies, the front row now feels painfully lonely. Junkie bonds never last very long and theyâre just as unreliable as the drugs they revolve around, when youâre trying hard not to love yourself itâs nearly impossible to love someone else. Once in awhile weâll give into the loneliness and make an attempt at establishing meaningful connections but they inevitably fall apart like Candy and Dan. Maybe itâs subconscious or maybe weâre aware but fact is, weâll always love the drugs more. Weâre in love with euphoria, weâre in love with the numb and itâs a love so powerful that sometimes we forget about all we loved before. Hollywood has cleverly directed movies which give us false hope that one day weâll meet someone so incredible that drugs wonât compare, like an angel sent to bring us to sobriety. After having your heart broken a dozen times it becomes obvious that those happy endings were nothing but fabricated lies. There wonât ever be an angel and there is nothing that compares. The film industry has provided society with an inaccurate representation of addiction, weâre often the villain, the liar, the thief whoâs never remorseful, the unstoppable bulldozer destroying everything in itâs path. Itâs one of the reasons so many hate or fear us, they watch us stealing candy from babies and pushing down the elderly. In reality drug addicts are usually overwhelmed by the amount of guilt they feel. For instance, I feel guilt after realizing my baby brotherâs birthday was the week prior and I completely forgot, or when itâs my aunts wedding and Iâm arriving as the receptionâs ending because I was stuck in a parking lot for hours, waiting. The guilt is especially heavy each time I look my best friend in the eye and promise her that Iâll stop getting high, only to pick up a syringe before the end of the night. Sometimes I think it would be easier if we felt no remorse for the disappointment we cause because then it would make more sense when we did it ten more times and then five more after that. But we do feel guilty, we do know the hurt weâre causing but we canât stop.. I canât stop. Wouldnât it be kind of nice if our lives could be like our favorite drug movies? Donât you wish that we could have our happy ending, maybe be able to quit cold turkey or get a goodbye kiss from a woman as beautiful as Brittany Murphy.. if our lives were a drug movie, the nightmare would be over when the credits start rolling. Think about it.. after two hours weâd be able to live our own lives, leave the theater and choose a different film in a new genre. If this was a perfect world, my life would be a drug movie and Iâd end up happy like the Hollywood junkies. Too bad rock bottom only plays one channel and I still need that $40.â
â -anonymous (via drunktofeellove)
THIS IS THE REALEST SHIT I HAVE EVER READ. SHARE SHARE SHARE!
âNo matter how attractive a personâs potential may be, you have to date their reality.â
â Mandy Hale

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I miss you in quiet waysâin skipped songs, in sunsets that donât feel right, in jokes I can't tell anyone else.