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Doing just fine

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Sometimes I think I'm going out of my mind, but I tell myself I'm doing just fine. There are so many people hurting in this world; who am I to complain?  I used to blow through my day, drink beer, have sex, fall asleep, and do it again the next day. My line was always, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn." I lived hard. I was brutal. I was mean. Who was harder than me? I was like a diamond phallus cutting holes in the sky, scraping big F-offs in the pristine, white clouds. I didn't just burn my candle at both ends, I broke the candle in half and lit both ends of the halves. My goal, it seemed, was to rampage through a short but chaotic life. I chose my chemicals, and then my chemicals chose me.   Something told me I had to change. I kept hearing that voice. My reply was always, "I'm doing just fine." When I blew out my knee, I made like it was nothing at all. When I stopped sleeping altogether, I started to worry. When I would l...