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with friends like these, who needs enemas

Lost the last of my friends to crack. Or money. Not sure what's what, but it's over.

Those "friends" got me so paranoid yesterday I spent most of it huddled in the middle of my living room in the dark. Hiding. Scared. PTSD triggered. Flight or fight kicking in. Ready to run.

They claim weed is a "gateway" drug. If it were legal I don't believe that would be so. Not anymore than coffee or cigarettes or booze.

Well now the only friends I have are on the internet. People I used to know for real have perverted into digital representations of themselves and I will probably never see them again.

Or people I have never met who refuse to let me actually be a part of their lives and the convenience of my association is wearing thin I can just tell.

Or people I know in real life have become real assholes who only care for themselves and their next fix.

For the record. I have never smoked crack. I will probably never smoke crack. I try to avoid those hard drugs. But I have (unfortunately) known a ton people who have had their lives ruined by crack and cocaine.

Stupid suburban white kids. Not sure what the hell they are thinking. Most of the time, I don't think they think at all.

I feel very alone. Thank goodness I have a supportive husband and an awesome kitty cat.

Maybe everyone sucks. Maybe I hang out with the wrong type of person. Maybe a vegan potluck at the libary is in my future or maybe I should just accept the fact that I am not the kind of person who should have "friends".

8:47 AM - Thursday, Jan. 15, 2015

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