The Fear And The Loathing
I used to flip a coin every weekend with a trembling hand holding a shaky key and a baggie of blow behind a locked bathroom stall door. There I drowned out the sounds of paranoia and self loathing screaming off the walls in a symphony of hidden quiet panic, with just one more bump to not feel any more. Then the drugs faded. The lights dimmed. Tabs closed. Grand plans for after hour activities made in the mad haste of infinite possibilities fueled by feeling invincible and freed from the shackles of fear, gave way to just that. Only fear. And another sore 5am sunrise of bone rattling loneliness and nothing followed through on. Fear led me down that road of fleeting invincibility, and fear brought me back to recognizing that delusional trip was speeded fast toward a dead end with a flatline.