Sometimes I drink gasoline, and I know that it's bad for me, and I'd do it anyway. That's my personality. I think it runs in the family. We all want for something. Like the kick in the teeth and the sense of relief that I get when I drink gasoline. I do it when I can't seem to relax, or when I am happy, or when I am sad. And it makes me crazy, and it makes me sick, and it makes me nervous, and I swear that I'll quit. And then I do it again, cause I don't learn lessons, and it isn't the answer, but I don't know the question these days. Even though I know it's poison, it can make me so damn pleasant. Isn't it hilarious what people will do to themselves? I'll never relax in my wildest dreams, so I calm myself with gasoline. I do things I swear will make me feel better, but I suffer the consequences forever. Maybe I secretly want to feel worse, to feel what I probably think I deserve. But it's hard to know, cause I never learn lessons, and it isn't the answer, but I forgot the question these days.