So, one starts using meth because it makes one feel good... one loves the rush, the energy, the extra hours in the day...
Then one stops caring about things in his life. One goes about in a haze, always looking for the next good high. One decides that it's too expensive to keep using without some sort of income to counter-balance it... so one starts selling... just to friends, at first... then on a wider scale...
One wants to stop... but those times when one has stopped, one lies in bed at night and pictures that one amazing time that he got that amazing rush... and all he can do is want it again.
I'm so fucked up.
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