Life, Reflections, and the Truth of Me

So, I was sitting here tonight reflecting on my life and the many strange and wonderful paths that it has led me down. I couldn't help but to get a little nostalgic with the memories. It is strange that when you look back on all the paths of your life that it can make you so happy and sad at the same time. I think it is because when we reflect on these good times we know that they will never be again. Sure, we all will have good times, experience crazy adventures, and make new friends, but deep down it somehow seems like it will never be as good again. As I was sitting there a moment of clairvoyance washed over me and I realized that I was wrong, it wasn't the nostalgia or memories that was making me feel these strange feelings...it was me coming down out of an eight day heroine induced coma that was brought on when I locked myself in my room for two weeks straight with two kilo's of pure columbian heroine, enough household chemicals to kill a family of elephants, and three gallons of jack daniels. When I came to conciousness once again I realized that I was sleeping on a pillow of my own vomit and feces, and my room smelled like a guano cave. I also noticed two dead hookers messily shoved into the corner of my closet. As I sat there picking fecal matter out of my hair and digging through the dead hookers pockets trying to find some more heroine/coke/meth...anything that would send me back into the sweet embrace of hallucinatory dreamland just a little longer...I saw myself in the mirror. I was shaken to my very foundations. What had happened to me? How could I possibly let myself slip into such a state? I decided right then and there, staring myself in the eyes, that I would never let this tragedy happen ever again. It was time to make some changes. I decided that I needed to stop wasting so much money on whores so that I would have more money to spend on drugs.