When I was in highschool I'd take whatever I could get for free, pretty dumb. Me and all my friends popped bars, vicodin daily. A friend of mine gave me these over the counter cold meds. Purple pills and I took 16. I'm not sure if I would have died but I felt like I was dying. In class my body burned wherever something was touching it, my desk, the floor, even my clothes were hurting me. This asshole who sat infront of me started hitting me a little because I probably looked like I was some place else which made matters even worse because the whole time I felt like I was trying to balance myself and he fucked that all up. I left class to go down to the restroom. I barfed up frito pie along the way and then just sat infront of the toilet 'til school was out. I was tired, in pain, and I couldnt think straight.. worst high of my life. I've never prayed for a real reason before. When I was little I just did it because mom said so. Soooo... I prayed the lord my soul to take because if I was going to die, might as well accept it and make peace with whatever intelligent being is out there. I didn't die I just woke up next morning feeling alot better. Following that day I went cold turkey on pills and yet I'm still blasphemous.
My friends are usually the ones who nearly kill me. One pulled out of somebodys driveway and a Silverado almost went through me. They say wrong things in wrong places to the wrong people and expect me to stick up for them constantly.