• Isn't it ironic that the needle I long to plunge into my veins seems to be hidden in a haystack?

    I'm addicted to the hardest thing to get. Of course, at the beginning, it was very easy to get my dose, at will, seemingly for free. As I grew more dependant, it cost me more than I could imagine, then it got farther and farther from my hands... until it went out of reach.

    I know what they say. There is a way to get a needle in a haystack. Flames.
    So tried burning everything down. I turned it all into Hell on Earth, watching everything disintegrate and get blown away by the wind. Nothing mattered but what I'd find.

    And finally I saw it. On top of a pile of ashes, there it was, glowing white with the heat.
    Glowing.
    s**t.

    I'm still sitting right next to it, waiting for it to be touchable again.
    Time passes slowly. It's like it's never gonna happen.
    It's right there, yet it's more inaccessible than ever.
    I brought that on myself, didn't I?