In recovery. Not saying what from tho

A gun or a [redacted]? Can’t tell which one I want in my mouth more. Cock it and pull it baby it’s a dilemma of an american psychoslut. Literally got so sad the other day I hate when I miss a dose and in turn experience direct consequences.

If the cost of mental stability is a lack of taste then it’s honestly a toss up.  Drugs exist but you can’t fake niche, you get it or you don’t. Would I really want to live a life where I’m happy but uncultured, when in my heart of hearts I understand my purpose is to worship and understand things? Being tapped in is so important to me personally and if delirium is the mechanism by which I exist so highbrow, so Delphic and feminine…then so effing be it.

“Go to hell” I’ve lost 1.5 identity-shaping brain chemistry-altering shrooms equivalent fics, babe I’ve already been.