disclaimer: I DID NOT WRITE THIS. but it is entirely about me.

"When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you a whole lot about me that has nothing to do with the use of drugs. I tell you that I have a disease that's identified, but not limited to the use of a narcotic.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that I'm an ego-maniac with low self-esteem. That I judge my worth by who I know, or who I'm with, rather than by who I am. That I'm more comfortable being cursed than complimented. That I will accuse everybody in the world of thinking that they're better than me because the sad truth is I believe I'm less.

When I tell you I'm an addict I tell you that my drug of choice is more. There's no such thing as enough, I'm addicted to new and different. When new and different becomes old and familiar, guess what? I gotta get me some more new and different.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you I don't understand any part of the word "NO"... or "WAIT".... When I tell you that I'm an addict, I tell you that your trust is my greatest weapon. My idea of friendship is to steal all your shit, and then help you look for it.

When I tell you that I'm an addict, I tell you that I'm a master of the complex, overwhelmed by the simple, that I've got all the answers - but no solutions. Matter of fact, my solution to a problem is usually worse than the problem.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that I'd rather prove that I don't know what I'm doing by messing stuff up, than admit that I don't know by asking for help.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that I get everything backwards in my life. That I say what I don't mean and I mean what I don't say. That I can hide in plain sight, that I'm alone in a crowd.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that I'm terminally unique, I'm not like anyone else in the world.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that I only need to hear half the story to know the whole truth.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that I've got diplomatic immunity from the laws that govern humanity an the rest of society. The words "Handicapped Parking", "Express Lane: 10 Items or Less", "Take Only As Directed", and "Turn Your Cell Phones Off" don't apply to me. I mean, don't you know who I think I am???

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you pain is my biggest teacher - I can't take anybody's word for anything. I gotta touch the paint to see if it's wet, I gotta touch the stove to see if it's hot. I'm a victim - by choice...

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you I have a disease that talks to me in my own voice. When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that alone, I am in dangerous company. That sometimes I think the price is the prize.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that I confuse powerlessness with permission.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that I bought drugs in some dope-holes where angels wouldn't go, but the most dangerous neighborhood I've ever walked through in my life is the one between my ears.

When I tell you I'm an addict, I tell you that I'm not finished with anything -- untill I'm done...."

The days when nothing seems to wither
like the traces of your face
the gentle lines of times which tested,
leaving wisdom with their haste
but wisdom visual means years the lesser
more in bed, and less at work
the times when mind wants more than vessel
and body simply cant go on
where does mind go?
when the bed sinks under a bodies weight
it stays to serve those who surround
waiting for their skin to be less smooth

© Stephanie J Picher

quality of life or quantity?

and how do you define either?

i just put all of my pens and pencils and markers and such in a little box. it is the humble beginnings of my new stab at organization. my life is very much a mess, in the literal sense. i am messy and cluttered and cant throw anything away. when i moved into my new apartment, i opened a box to find it filled with old newspaper. i dont even remember packing it. i must have been in some kind of pack-rat trance. right now there is a roll of paper towels on my computer desk. i dont know why it is there, but it has been there for days. it belongs in the kitchen, which is about 2 feet away. it will probably stay on the desk. on the living room floor there is a red headband with devil ears on it that i bought at target for a dollar last halloween. i dont know how it got to my new apartment, let alone to my floor. in my cell phone there is the number of the sister of the guy that i worked with 5 jobs ago and the number of a radio station from a state that i havent been to in 4 years that i cant even listen to if i wanted to. i actually transferred that number from my old phone to the one i have now. my problem has become digital. i know where everything is as long as it is in a pile. i only vaccuum when my mom comes to visit. and this is the worst one: ive saved every note i wrote in junior high. remember those notes you wrote to your friends? the ones you folded in tiny squares and wrote with colored pens in big bubbly handwriting? well i have them all, in a drawer back home.

but my pencil box makes me feel less crazy.