Eternal Addiction

I was tired of trying to escape reality. I look back at my life now and it seems like a blur at times. How many days did I try to erase with the help of a substance? A person? From the days I was in middle school to the realization of what I understood in life. To be able to experience life to the fullest without diminishing who I am as a person.

It is true to some extent, many of the classics, hits, and etc were created under an influence. They say true art is born through the blood, sweat, and tears that exert our raw nature. Yet as well, I’ve found it all to be a simple band aid. Growing up when I was first introduced to drugs, I thought it was foolish. But as I felt the gravity push me down, I felt the need to be lifted up. In turn I allowed myself to be taken by a substance. Reaching the point where I needed to feel nothing to feel everything. From bottles in hand, bottling my emotions to trees allowing me leave and fall through the skies by the breeze exhaled. I became consumed. 

Time would shift. I as well saw in myself the beauty in life. One would think that being changed by events would thwart any sense of ego yet it remained. Ithought of myself “in control”, though it was obvious I was not. One addiction switched to another and I thought freedom was found in blissful ecstasy when one was beside someone else. It became a game and sex was the drive instilled to keep me alive, or so I thought. And then it occured, love in its purest form. Within such notions or my knowledge, all said was true and lost within this person I was not. But then again, the broken pieces of who I am could not hold the substance and the beautiful mess I was seemed to cut the other til the string was cut. All was lost or so I thought. Looking at the clouds before I took on my usual self. Allowing my mind to be silent, my emotions as cold as winter and the storm drowning me in the seas of guilt and imperfections. Yet there he was, drenched in blood, a symbol of his death on the cross. But this was a dream, so I thought, for who should love me enough to die for my faults. Chains breaking and my hands feeling no constraints. My mind finding a peace I longed for. A feeling to feel whole abounding my the springs running through me, overflowing and making me be complete. This is love. He is enough. 

A sense to no longer “escape”, hinder or hide who I am in any way shape or form. But to grow, learn and experience reality in its entirety. To feel with a passion that comes from his own. God. Love. Truth. My eternal addiction.

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