Checking out this site, and I see the Bliss thing. Out of nowhere I realized maybe my heart has healed after the breakup with my one true love.

 

Dope was my lover, my best friend, my world, and my one desire. Sounds cliche, but so true. I swore I'd never get over my dope. Now in eighteen months the sting has eased. Of course we're reminded of our love when a song comes on or when we pass somewhere familiar. When things get nuts, and our heads pound instantly dope is craved. Just one bag, and I'd be good quick.

 

Then it hits me. Passing a familiar place is where I waited for some dealer to take his good old time on purpose while it snowed, and I had no freaking coat on, and I had to keep throwing quarters in a call back phone which decreased my loot researved for the dope. One time my friend was so mad she told the dealer he owed her the $3.00 she put in the phone. I was laughing so hard AFTER I got mine. There's nothing sexy, cool or interesting waiting on a dude who makes his money on others misery. Supply, and demand for sure. So instead of recalling the high I try to recall that waiting while I was sick, and hiding from people who may know me because I am sans a coat in the snow. That's bliss alright.

 

Listen to a song, and I recall wandering extremely dangerous neighborhoods I have no right to be in. Songs in Spanish waft through the air, and I want to pretend I'm on an island, but nope I'm looking to score cause my man went on a freaking vacation, and the next in line went with him. Go down our list, and find they all went on vacation. Took a rest. Now what? Put my tail out there, and risk being shot or locked up. I used to wonder what was better. All this for bliss. Absolutely. I can't understand Spanish, but I like the beat of these songs. I dare not stop to listen because a cop is yelling at me to go home. No dope today he yells. Go where you come from. I don't have Latin beats where I CAME from. They don't want me back. So I walk, and walk, and my friend waits cause she's afraid, and I return with nothing, and this ain't fun. She lies to me, and I lie to her, and we were kids together. Good girls from nice families, and we are sick, and sweating in the cold and we lie, and lie. Just for that bliss I guess.

 

There's nothing I miss about that. When that twinge hits me, and I think back about how nice it would be just one more time to shut out all the crap I think back, and where that bliss got me, and what I lost, and how hard I've tried to rebuild. Then I don't remember the warmth, and completion of my soul. I remember telling my childhood friend a pack of lies, and traipsing around some peoples neighborhood looking for dope, and desecrating their neighborhoods, and doing things I wouldn't want done in mine. No. I don't miss it right now. I hope I don't miss it forever. I don't miss that one true love. I'll try and love me instead.