I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity.
I despise reality, and use every substance under the sun to try to warp the world I've been cursed with. I have a boy who loves me but is unfortunately mad, a job that chains me to a desk for forty hours a week, and an obsession with things that cannot be mine - the sky, for instance, or things on high shelves. I cannot be blamed for a generation who were brought up on the ethos of 'drink drink drink smoke fuck fight'.