I have become immune to the things that made me think that other types of mind yuck were inferior to what I deserved and it seems more than ever that people die from cures riddled with poison. Help us leave the ever ripening stench of ___want a gateway drug___??? Kill the Pill before it kills you. It will. I have had one more friend pass away because of these ridiculous “cures”.
I miss Paul. I am sick of pain, but not sick enough to die in vain. Bury the pills. This is an epidemic. When they are there, there is no control. It is impossible to say no. The doctor won’t stop giving them to me. If I die today, let them know that I went this way. For want of peace, I became a slave to this artifice.
Sleep, Paul. You are missed and loved down here. I will try to right this place now that you’re gone.
What the Hell hapened to men’s clothes? I am amazed to see harsh words like “Affliction” and “Love Dies” adorned with sparkly trinkets, pink pastels, and tapered-leg jeans. OMG, WTF, ROTFL? GAY? I mean gay, OK, we all pretend that it’s not a big deal to see men kissing and we’ve bought into the rhetoric that it may even be natural to be gay (and gender roles are not…) But please spare us the dignity, those of us who have yet to embrace skin-tight jeans and sparkly pink shirts, of options. I walked 40 blocks down 5th Avenue in New York City yesterday shopping with my beautiful wonderful girlfriend. SHE ended up buying more than I did – IN THE MEN’S SECTION!!! Men’s clothes have become gay and that is NOT OK! Give me back the grunge era! I long for a flannel, ripped jeans and heroin-laced music.