Welcome to AA. Also known as Addicts anonymous
Well, hi I’m Jetzael, and I have an addictive personality. But you can call me jet. It started about 4 years ago with small things.
You know, from the things I ate to the seats I took.
But then my addictive personality escalated to people. But let me explain to you how my addiction with people worked… or works.
Itll start of by needing to take a glance at you. That would fulfill my high. Then I needed a simple hello until I needed a hug, a conversation, lunch every day, a seat next to you, it never stopped! My addiction with you never stopped, it just kept growing.
And when my high wore off, you didn’t get out of my head. What were you doing? Were you happy? Did you need something? Are you mad, sad, frustrated? Are you okay? … am I okay?
All I could ever think about, was you.
And we all know here, addictions never end in a good high.
So it got to the point where my questions turned from were you okay? To was I ever gonna be.
I went through the withdrawal. All alone. All the restless tearful nights until I got high again. Not by you though. But her name was oxycodone, with her friends Percocet and codeine.
They became my best friends. They always distracted me from you until I got tired of them, because you… pff… you gave me highs that codeine could never. But then came along all the restless, nauseous, and chilly nights until they all got out of my system. Why? Because I was growing an addiction for you… again. Would you still like me this way? Would you support my ways? But the one question that kept me up all night was, did you still love me?
At least just a little bit?
But then my old home-girl came through, Maryjane. And numbed my mind away from all the questions and thoughts that existed about you.
She would smoke me out every day, before the sun was even two minutes into his 12-hour shift.
We would be numb the whole day so I never had the chance of thinking about you. Couple of months went by, but if you wanna be exact, my addictive personality could tell you how many months, days, hours, minutes and seconds it was. But that’s unnecessary.
I mean, all my highs were starting to let me forget your scent, touch, words, even your face.
But then you crossed me again, and all those things I thought I forgot about you, rushed back into my head faster than any other drug that existed.
So here I am again, craving highs, not from oxy, perc, codeine or marijuana,
but from you.

Roll it, light it, smoke.
Puff puff pass it to the left.
Take a deep breath, relax.

I'm right
on top of
things can't
you see it?

Oh! It's Friday
the 13th?
Thanks Cné.

I'm right
on top of
it, just -- just
trust me!

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

I'm up
to date on
razor
pop culture.

Oh! It's August
isn't it? Sep - tem
- ber. That's

what I meant.

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

   Why can't I live like
Oliver Tree?

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

   Why can't I live like
Die Antwoord?

(An ounce of ****
per week and sleep,
dreamless sleep.)

   Why can't I live like
Mr. Rogen?

LOL

Thinking with short breath, gripping my chest, sinking with stress?
Just to attest, Imagine putting stress to the test
Over pushing boundaries set with intent
Chasing leads, gaining lost time pursuing a lust with broken trust
Only to rise to the question
Can the duality of morals and ethics which define us..
Be overwritten?
Misconstrued needs for skeptics lost in line
Slowly assimilating breathless methods

Hijacked

Black rose petals spiraling to conclusion, Decomposing as if to forget this
Why don't I neglect this elusive euphoria defined in terms of confusion?
Split paths once veering in opposite directions begin running parallel
I know I'm here, but who's that there?
Ominous reflections veer back with eyes unfamiliar
A face with no definition grabs my wrist lurching me forward
Weightlessly ***** following a diverging direction with questioned intention.
Where are you taking me? (Silence)
Operating in two places at once, questioning who is the driver

Hijacked

There but ever increasingly distant, attempting to reach you
The sunrise rekindling the spark of yesterdays intuitions
Preserving eloquence like a flower in full bloom
Suddenly fades eerie in an instant, dwindling on gloomy restless expressions
Cloudy perception refracted by crystalline illusions
The evanescent cypress terpene, king of bliss
Flowing in the direction towards what has been calling it most
An icy chill enters my chest, a constant race to chase an endless quest
A ploy of acceptance with a cotton ball

it took a few moments,
but we eventually found it.
the most amazingly beautiful
place to rest our fragile bodies
and our unique minds.

we sat up for a few moments,
giggling at our high thoughts
and eating our sour gummy
worms. eventually, we just
stared into each other's eyes.

"let's lay down," they suggested.

a soft chuckle left my chapping
lips as we laid back onto the
scratchy and dry grass. putting
on a romantic playlist full of indie
rock, we stop speaking.

we attempted to look up at the sky,
but it seemed to get increasingly
blinding as each moment slipped by.
we closed our eyes, seeing an assortment
of bright yellows and oranges overhead.

our breathing synced, our minds became
one. somehow, despite neither of us uttering
even a single syllable. we were communicating.
bonding, even. for hours, we remained in this
comfortable marijuana-induced silence.

Leave the inner world
for the world outside the walls,
procure supplies,
then, return again.
That's the plan, Stan.

Feet meet cement block.
You remember the last time
we took this walk?
As well as I do.

Insert a line I've used before,
commenting on the violet hues
of parting suns, painting the
skies above us as we go for bread.

Instead of hidden knives,
I pull a hand and offer it
as we cross the overpass.
If you're scared in day,
you're terrified at night.

Without a pause, you're reaching out,
grasping for a comfort, now.
Easy, is it? I'll bet it is.

If life has taught me anything,
the most important change
is that I learn to zip my mouth.

Joy equates to nothing more
than what others see in store,
and go on to demand of me.

Lamb's Bread from The CDC
replaces intensity
I've lost to love, with smoke.

Light it up, and let it go.

Something whispers deep inside me
"You are the apocalypse."
So I set my pipe beside me
And think "I'm too high for this."

Just because its called a blunt,
Doesn't mean it dulls the edges.
It keeps everything turnt,
Giving a sparkle to the senses.

It gives you joy.
Whilst fading away your tensing.
Trips, it takes you on.
Just inhale. Take flight, take off. . .