the doc
has good hair, good help and a crazy opinoin that humans have been on
earth for thousands of years and there is no reason to do drugs.
his pen
has the name of a drug on it, the pad that he writes his notes on has
the name of a drug company on it, and the calender says Prozac. it's
the only printed thing in the room that i can pronounce.
i said,
the paper said this girl took Ecstacy for the first time and people
told her to drink lots of water and she drank too much and she died.
i asked, how can you die from drinking too much water?
he said,
no one really knows what drugs like that can do to you, maybe it kept
her from urinating and that's how she died. i said but that's not dying
from drinking too much water.
he didnt
like the conversation. he just wanted to remove the stitches from my
side.
i said,
i heard it's not the Ecstacy, but it's the things that they cut it with.
he said no one should use drugs unless they're deficiant in something.
and i wish
i had never felt so alienated before, but i had.