Don’t Listen To Me! I’m Filled With Sugar Coated, Rainbow Lies.

I don’t like losing myself to an alcohol induced haze.  Knowing
exactly what I’m doing, but uncaring of the consequences.  My world had
become shades of gray but I wasn’t exactly colorblind.  The sour coating
tasted sweet, allowing my conscience to slip away for the evening.  I
started to choke on cigarette smoke, feeling as if I might lose all the
content of my oh so colorful stomach.

You know that feeling of butterflies fluttering in the pit of your
stomach when you’re in love?  This wasn’t that moment.  Bright,
shimmering rainbows swam through my system and out the cracks in my
veins, leaving my whole body warm from the inside out.  A craving I
couldn’t ignore.  I turned so many shades of pink, I didn’t even
recognize myself anymore.  Like an out of body experience, I was no
longer the one who painted the world around me—another had taken over my
skin and controlled the strokes of my brush.


I became just another suffering artist, drifting through the hues.

I spent the final act of my evening staring up at twirling stars,
glowing toxic green above my head.  I wondered where the hell I was when
sounds of desperate sex drifted underneath the crack in the door.  It
was then that I realized I wasn’t as drunk as I had been before. 

I remembered everything.