(April 10, 2017 at 10:07 am)Longhorn Wrote: Why? As in, did it just feel that good or was it escapism from something?
I think it was a combination of both. Even with the heroin, it started out just something that felt good to do. Then after some time I think it became more about self medicating than anything else. Opiates took away anything resembling anxiety, sadness or depression... so even if using heroin started out innocently, it became so much more than that by the end.
Also I would argue that there is something inherently different between someone willing to try a hard drug like heroin and someone who maybe just smokes pot or drinks. I mean, drugs are drugs, alcohol included. But considering the stigma attached to harder drugs I would probably lean toward thinking there is some genetic component to addiction where, for whatever reason, I thought it was okay to stick a needle in my arm, whereas most folks would see that as completely insane.
Or maybe it's a combination of genetic factors and traumatic life experiences I went through in my younger years. Who knows?
“Love is the only bow on Life’s dark cloud. It is the morning and the evening star. It shines upon the babe, and sheds its radiance on the quiet tomb. It is the mother of art, inspirer of poet, patriot and philosopher.
It is the air and light of every heart – builder of every home, kindler of every fire on every hearth. It was the first to dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody – for music is the voice of love.
Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to Joy, and makes royal kings and queens of common clay. It is the perfume of that wondrous flower, the heart, and without that sacred passion, that divine swoon, we are less than beasts; but with it, earth is heaven, and we are gods.” - Robert. G. Ingersoll
It is the air and light of every heart – builder of every home, kindler of every fire on every hearth. It was the first to dream of immortality. It fills the world with melody – for music is the voice of love.
Love is the magician, the enchanter, that changes worthless things to Joy, and makes royal kings and queens of common clay. It is the perfume of that wondrous flower, the heart, and without that sacred passion, that divine swoon, we are less than beasts; but with it, earth is heaven, and we are gods.” - Robert. G. Ingersoll
