بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

 wish i could step outside my self, watch as these drugs attack my cells, let them take the signals to a brain no longer there no longer shared, so stranger i become. it's not quite a state of misery, just a very near facsimile, perhaps trying to trick me further into missing, what's long been shelved in pieces, but the present is quite as it should be, a path to squeeze the lemony juices from my being, and find at its end an -ade worth tasting to be believed.