No amount of booze will fill this hole

I have to calibrate my booze intake very carefully to fight the depression. None and I am depressed. A little bit and I am happy. Too much and I am depressed again. Then I make crazy threads nominally about disco and get all truculent. Really, I am just sick of this depressive trough. I wish the manic peak would come so I can start driving my motorcycle into obstacles again.

I wax on and wax off mr. miyagi style
about pillz and how much they felt good
inside me, now I am left with only the
stark real world of pain and shitbaggery.

Don't you take pills for back pain? Also, pills are not real drugs. They are the man's approximation of real drugs. You can wax on and off about pills but there is no vacillation between taking drugs and not taking drugs. My only stumbling block is the drug dealer.

Must they be organic and possess the aboriginal man's stamp of approval, like ibogaine or peyote? I want to finagle my way into an O'Odham saguaro wine ceremony this summer. They puke it all up and go back for seconds. I read about it in a book.

The older I get the better I understand Marlon Brando.

we were beginners
in the hood as five percenters
But somethin must of got in us
cause all of us turned to sinners

I was at the corner store about ten minutes ago and Randy was there. Randy is the local dude that sells bootleg dvds and knows everybody and he was talking about Which Way Is Up. Anyway that is my favorite movie and it is all about the bullshit culture.