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Medals upon medals. Trophies upon trophies.
Praise from your peers.
Ecstatic cheers from the crowd.
Now imagine one day you throw all of that away.
The sweet thrill of victory, gone from your touch and instead locked away inside of your memory.
Reluctantly thrown away, of course.
Imagine the one thing that keeps you stable, keeping you (quite literally) on your feet, gets slowly ripped away from you over the course of a few years.
Instead of racing other people, you find yourself CHASING something entirely different:
DRUGS.
You no longer have the adrenaline of a million racehorses flooding through your veins.
You no longer have the butterflies fluttering diligently in your stomach.
What could you possibly use to recreate such staggering feelings?
Psychedelics to replace the butterflies before a race starts.
Psychedelics to replace the butterflies before a race starts.
Stimulants to replace the adrenaline as you test yourself on the track, and the satisfaction of victory as you cross the finish line ahead of everyone else.
What goes up, must come down.
Similar to the aftermath of a tough race, drugs will have you crashing down to the ground faster than you could say "one more time".
I suppose this is why they call it a "runner's high".
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Savaal
you artsy mf