patrick felt like he had done nothing right in his life, he felt like he wouldn't ever. despite scoring distinctions after distinctions, our hero of the story felt that his life was still a failure. he only studied this hard because he had no other directives in life. he was simply a dejected soul.

poor patrick started to let go of his studies, although given his intellect he would still ace with no prior preparations. he enjoyed procrastination, with the full understanding that he will achieve nothing through this. with all the spare time he then had, he had begun to trace back, and think of possibly any happy moments in his life. the reminiscing did him no help. he had no friends in the early days, perhaps all the days of his life. he looked down on himself, for no one took notice of him. the religions, cults, or whatever he was exposed to did not express a direct alternative in life.

he would cut himself, for fun, not for any particular sadistic or self-destructive purposes. rather, i would think that patrick had the innate curiousity to experience how pain felt. under certain "bad" (im not really sure whether to label it as bad) influences, patrick was enticed to the world commonly termed as ABUSIVE DRUGS. as a starter, he did a joint's worth of marijuana. to a certain extent he felt life as humourous (or rather he was laughing off at any animate object). still, this was not joy. the sense of failure still rooted to his mind. (note: all this while he was high, he isn't the hero for nothing yARh???)

yes. as you guys will know, patrick got himself a class A drug, heroin. the sensation was immediate. he could feel blockages throughout his arteries. he felt a tad closer to happiness. just that little more. but alas, not there yet. after consecutives days' worth of drug abuse (children should not try this at home), he did not feel his desired outcome taking place. he did not feel happy. he felt numb. but he continued drug intake anyway, 'cause during then, he nearly felt "happy". again i must say i suspect at this point he may be addicted. maybe. not a confirmative. haha.

there came one time he had a headache. and he jabbed himself a dose of heroin. obviously the drug has drastically reduced his intellect to that of a child. his pain did not fade, instead it persisted for an unbearable period. due to the excessive abusive of drugs, he was not used to pain. he felt a complete stranger to pain. thus, to free himself from this minute cause of discomfort, he gave himself another jab of the "medication". immune from all feeling, he swore he saw his room filled with greenish and whitish colors. he was mesmerised. in all that reticence, he felt that he was in awe of himself. he had reached that state of "happiness"

the next morning, the police came to remove the carcass. patrick's body. apparently he died of an overdose. the officers did detect something queer in particular. wiping away the pungent foam excreted from his mouth, it revealed a broad smile. it was a smile of disdain for the world. and yes, we all know that he smiled not from the sensation of high, but what he perceived logically (yes this is fiction, so nothing is real. i am the storyteller. when i say he can process thoughts i mean he fucking can). he was very clear on his consequence for happiness, and that very consequence was the reason for his happiness.

he succeeded. at last.


Listening to... Queens Of The Stone Age - In My Head

the usual suspects were here at
5:32 PM

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