I remember the first time I did meth. We didn't know what we were doing. Here were these shards of crystalized addiction and we had no fucking clue what to do with them. We grabbed a butcher knife, and a straw, and went with it.

next thing I know I'm crying happy tears, hugging a tree, and running around the block-barefoot- in the middle of the street, at four a.m.

Probably one of the biggest mistakes of my life. Why was it so good?