Published on Sunday, May 30th, 2004 at 9:41 pm

So, I’ve been developing withdrawal symptoms. Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t been on drugs or even alcohol, it’s just another thing, nothing at all really. It develops in the same way… really pesty gnarly stuff.
It’s not lasting long, either, I guess it should really be more terrible nowadays. The first day, I was unconscious, as usual. Nothing seemed to be different whatsoever, I was unaware of things to come.
The second day came with the constant bickering, the icking, and that uneasy feeling that seems to own your stomach. You can’t sleep, you can’t stay awake. You’re like a vegetable, green and steady. You don’t do nothing, feel nothing, move anywhere. Just stand there… autistic. You can only scratch your head and move sideways in bed. The sheets seem to laugh at your ridiculous movements. The pillow stays a sidekick to the few thoughts you manage to gather.
On the third day, you can move now. You got out of bed. Ate correctly (this is weird, once you stop, you develop the chucks, you enjoy a full meal the way it was intended to) and you move to the bathroom. Take a shower, and once you look in the mirror you can see how old you have grown. Oh, you still look the same to everyone. But inside, you’re like a million years old. You feel wiser, as if it really meaned anything. You walk around the house, waving in an unusual manner… almost euphoric.
But on the fourth day, all of this goes to hell. You go out of the house and feel the world with the same sharpness it had before you came in. You are snapping back now, you see? And it hurts the most. Now it doesn’t feel like moving again. Eating is not the same. Sleeping is not the same. You crave now. You crave again. Not food, not sleep. You feel those cells craving, requesting you for it. Your brain tells you the same.
And you will follow routine now. You will get up, not knowing what you will do from now on. You run, you walk fast, and then creep slowly. Moving then, each day at a slower speed. Going for that moving carrot up ahead.

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