Being sick is rarely fun, specially without weed. I can manage any kind of sickness with it. Somehow you just don’t give a fuck. Might be the major trait of that herb.
For that reason I am really looking forward towards my promised lung cancer. I do not smoke for shits and giggles! I was promised lung cancer and if that should be another one of those false hopes they raise in us like the hoverboard or jet pack, I will go on a rampage or sue someone!
Due to the symptoms of withdrawal I asked myself how I would know today if I am sick.
Could it be the constant sneezing or the running nose?
Is it possible that the change of tune in my voice indicates something?
Or the coughing of blood maybe? The sweating attacks at haphazard?
The spontaneous vomiting, sleep deprivation, diarrhea, anorexia, enhanced perception of loudness or imbalance in temper are also on the list.
All these could be major indicators of disease as well as withdrawal, so who knows.
But I think my body simply shuts down. Nothing makes sense any more. My doctors have already given up on me and it is time that I face reality too. From now on I will be useless to society. A relict of easier times.
A few weeks ago I watched some reality TV-series about porn-stars and liked it. I should have known then, but I was still under the illusion of “things will fall into place”.
The signs are there, no longer to ignore.
Only one possible cure to this menace .
I installed a toolbar…
They shoot horses, don’t they?