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Snow globe

Legal white powder dissolved in water, leaving close to transparent residue of bliss at the bottom of the bottle. I just gulp without thinking, refusing to deny myself the simple pleasure of intaking a drug I’ve become addicted to. Why bother about having to quit when there’s plenty at the moment? Tiny white crumbs twirling around in the water, inviting me to, if not dance, then at least take a little skip. Do a little jig. Rest my head. I’m not in too deep.
On another note, I never liked Vince Neil. He’s fat, whiny and untalented. Though God damnit how I cried when I read about his daughter in Mötley Crüe: The Dirt. My huge, swollen, gold sparkling heart aches and bleeds even for the people I can hardly stand.


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