While you're hunched over a basin, feeling sick in your head- o to hell with that, you feel sick all over. That's when your brain starts working again and it sends furious nerve impulses to your limbs, like petty, useless phone calls to complain about the a mistake in a bill calculation. But unlike that bill you can't undo the number you've input. It's scribbled down all over the walls of your mind in dark permanent ink. Regret would be an understatement. How did you stoop so low.
You can bask in the temporary joy that it sheds and it's fine. It's frivolous but it's damn fine. Why? Because you need it. You crave it and you feed (in this context, literally) on this need of the other. It's the irresistible shot of vodka you cannot not take, it's the nicotine in a cigarette and soon, it becomes cocaine in your blood. It doesn't mean a thing. You merely choose to believe that it does just to get yourself through another 24 hours. You do it to make yourself believe that everything is worthwhile.
And you'd totally do it again.
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