Broke

I need a drink, a smoke, a pill. A line, a cut, an out, in any form possible.

I need to eat, eat, eat, then to sleep, sleep, sleep. To wake up and go back to bed again. I need to spend money to buy shit I don't even like. To scream my lungs out. To board a plane and don't look back. I need to go as far as I can from this place that keeps suffocating me with its smallness. I need to run away, to embrace the uncomfortable, to abandon everything I thought I knew.

Because I know nothing. Nothing at all.

Nea