Honesty Has Always Been An

My Mum Brought Me Up On Her Own. All We Really Had Was Each Other.

Say I Feel All Sad And Self-indulgent, Then Get Stung By A Wasp, My Misery Feels Quite Abstract And I Long Just To Be In Spiritual Pain Once More - 'damn You Tiny Assassin, Clad In Yellow And Black, How I Crave My Former Innocence Where Melancholy Was My Only Trial'.

If You Strip Away Self-effacement, Charm And The Spirit Of Mischief-qualities That Make Determination And Ambition Tolerable- You're Left With A Right Ar**hole.

I Also Quite Like To Be Recognized By Children; I Find It Sweet.

All We Can Do Is Adapt The Way We View This Condition, Not As A Crime Or A Romantic Affectation But As A Disease That Will Kill. We Need To Review The Way Society Treats Addicts, Not As Criminals But As Sick People In Need Of Care.