Opiate

It dulls my senses and gives me the freedom I have always looked for. All the world's a farce when I am overcome with grief, angst, in indignation and a tumult of happiness.

Its Saturday night. The desire to intoxicate myself and those around me has returned. There is a sudden surcharge within me, to inhale the semi synthetic latex, to lose myself in the narcotic and do the frequent role-play that am so acquainted with by now. I know that it is not what I am. But what's the harm in pretending?

I wear the mask of innocence, roll my eyes with casual nonchalance and smoke. No one sees me, except my soul. I feel my heart beat increasing with the passing of each second.

Opiate has its own romantic charm. It can numb you, kill you, make you see things that shouldn't otherwise be seen. You, yes, not even you would be able to generate the kind of self control that's required to resist Opium. I am a proud addict,unwilling to give up on the zest of life. That is Opiate.A phenomenon. A cloudburst of ecstasy. A bearing on my self consciousness.

I care a dime for realization. For what they say when they see me doping on the roads, in night clubs, and the restricted zones. "They are so narrow-minded", I say, "Why do you care, when I don't? Go mind your  qown damn business. I am bad, and will always be. You might be good, but not for long."- Its more of a warning. My speech is slurred. I decide to inhale once more. The last time, the woman in me promises.