Martinis made from Adderall and gin, cocktails stirred with Codeine and bourbon.
Each step is a fall from Earth up into the clouds. I’m a magician, mastering the massive misuse of Molly, flirting with fiery, foxy vixens. Three wives, four kids, maybe five. Money finds me, and I spend it faster than I can make.
But living hard fast-forwards time. Now I’m sixty. Not a penny to my name. Liver doesn’t work. Cancer in more spots on my body than I have ex-wives. Can’t create joy from substance, can’t sacrifice quality of life for comfort.
Too late now. I’m finished.