What Happens
When sober life just doesn't do it for you.

Normally, I'm a very nice, happy person that has loads of energy and spirit. This is when I have a lot of drugs to fuel me. During my childhood I was always fairly silent, I was usually one of those kids that would go and sit under a tree at recess far away from the other children. I wasn't happy, but I wasn't sad, I was simply existing. Grade seven was slightly better than the other years, some other children started to mature and decided to sit with me at recess. After that grade was over I had to switch schools.

I had to spend grade 8 at a school operated by rich Italians, and these weren't the good kind of rich Italians (if there is such a thing) These were evil people, bent on making money any which-way they could. Literally every week there was a fundraiser, for most of them, I was told that if I didn't participate I would lose marks. Since the work was actual work at this school I couldn't afford not to participate, and participating cost me a lot of money. I was used to a real downtown school, where you didn't have to do much other than solving a few math problems, sing a few songs, and play dodgeball. I lost all of my friends from the previous school, they were sent to schools far from this new one. Also, there were no secluded trees to sit under at this school. I had to sneak off of school property every day to avoid these horrid children. I tried to stay and communicate with them a few times (sometimes I found some acquaintances from the old school) and every time I would end up with a new physical bruise or being shunned completely.

I graduated from that evil Italian place and went into a high school much like my old elementary school. I was reunited with my old friends and the worst was over. As I started to hang out with my old friends again I noticed that they changed too much over the year I didn't see them and we no longer got along as well. Mostly because I didn't like the same brand of soft drink as they did. So I stopped hanging around them, and played it solo for a while until I finally met a friend that was tolerable. He soon introduced me to his other friends, which were also tolerable and they introduced me to the wonderful wonderful world of drugs.

So, what I'm saying here is; I wasn't having a very good time with life (though I covered it up rather well) up until I started doing drugs. I realized this about a week ago when I was without drugs for two weeks straight. I was stopped from doing drugs completely and I reverted back into my usual miserable self. I felt the exact same way I did all the time as a child in the pre-drug days. The moment I got high again I felt great, a complete turn around. Drugs are what keep me going, they're what keep me alive, how can they make them illegal?

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