On December 18, 1997, American actor-comedian Chris Farley was found dead in his apartment in Chicago. He did what some druggies call speedballing. You mix cocaine and morphines to create an a euphoric high. He speedballed his way to death.

I remember watching a documentary on him. Apparently he went through a lot of depression because of his weight and size. It's interesting because he always managed to poke fun at himself about it. He did numerous movies and skits that revolved around his weight. His entire joke was about how fat he was. Yet, when he went home after a gig, he'd shoot up on drugs to numb his pain. There was nothing for him to laugh about.

Seems like the burden of being a comedian is that no one ever takes you seriously.

I always thought that was depressing.

A constant problem that I had when I used to smoke pot was that I'd get in way over my head. If I knew I was going to blaze with a few of my friends later in the week, I would spend sleepless nights in anticipation. My incentive to wake up would be to get high. My incentive to go to school was to talk to my friends and plan how to get high.

And then when I did get high, I always got too high. My entire body would tingle with a heightened sense of feeling. My mouth would feel like it was bigger than my entire face. I swear I could hear my stomach churning, my gastric acid simmering around.

Seconds become hours, songs that would only last two minutes lasted for an eternity. Your eyes attempt to focus on something only to float out of focus.

I lose all grip on reality, and I slip into a dimension I don't know how to get out of. And while my friends are next to me, I am alone. I want to grip a friends shoulder, but he's too far away. And all the while, I am laughing. I am laughing, and slowly slipping into madness. I'm sitting on the edge of the universe, and I'm about to fall off into oblivion.

And I'm in over my head.

I have never failed to fail. Pain. Pain. Pain.
-Kurt Cobain

People seem curious at what I used to do, what I'm doing now, or how f*cked up I really am. People wonder why I disappear from everyone after I promise to call everyone. I remember someone telling me that they had thought I had died somewhere.

It's true. I died a while ago.


(yes it's emo, stfu)

wow that's interesting. the end seems nonexistant almost. it is a rambling though and for what it is, it's nice. emo, yes. interesting descriptions too. i would've personally liked to see it a little bit longer. i was also wondering if this was based on some sort of real life happening or if you just wanted to write it?

True story. :)