Monday, November 9, 2015

Hilary D Zamora writes and paints

For me the games my own mind played were the most difficult in the beginning of my journey. Impatience is rampant amongst addicts because you need to score to fix the sickness. Dope is the relief to a migraine, a glass splinter freeing itself from your flesh. It's like living inside a reality of only tomorrows, because the current rush doesn't matter, only where the next one comes from. Dope is a fiend’s soft pillow inviting dreams when fatigue sneaks up behind you. ‘Guess who?’ 

It’s like alleviating words dripped from a sharp tongue with simple yet definitive knowledge that the words aren’t true. It’s as if the addicts’ drug of choice is also the throne they sit upon, and the altar they kneel before. Take a few hits and that thorn in your side will work its way out, and if it doesn’t at least you don’t have to feel it for a while. Abusing and using and getting used to the use allows pain to blow away; it’s just dust in the wind. “"~Hilary D Zamora


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