Act of Desperation

I wonder why I cannot let myself succumb to alcohol, or drugs. I mean, I should at the bars just getting fucking hammered. Or here in my room trying to drown myslef with some JD. Or I should be headed out to the streets trying to score some pot or crack or meth or something.
Instead, I plan on having my roommate find me head first in a pie pan. Death of chocolate overdose.
Taking some all of Barbara’s pills would be easier; at least it would be cleaner.
Or I could just listen to my conscious and just start slashing on my arms. But that would be messier than the pie.

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