contemplationcloud

Nicotine makes me forget myself.
It makes the words flow it the absent of false self.

The buzz drifts me to the the evils of the world.
The stupidity.
The unfairness.
The pain.
The death.

Then to myself.
My flaws.
My mistakes.
My future.
My past.

And i make fleeting words of wisdom such as...
Blessed be the rich idiot, because he is the fortunate one.
Drugs is an escape from the horrors of the world, that's why so many use them.

A cold sense of melancholy sets in where i repeat every single evil in my head until i almost panic.

But then i remember.

I see the truth. And now that i know the truth, i acknowledge the fact that i can't do nothing about this truth.

And i let go of it.

And i remember the potential.

As long as there is potential, there is hope.
And as long as there is hope, i will wake up with a smile on my face.

And with this smile i will change the world.

Tomorrow this belief be shattered by the world again, only to be rebuilt.

Until potential becomes reality.

Or when the smile, alas fades from my face.