How does it feel to be wasted? My friends, rather acquaintances, often ask me this question. They are not worth being called my friends. They call me various names. Drunkard, doper and the like. I am an ordinary girl who just wants to enjoy life on her own terms.
It’s just that my ways of enjoying are a bit different. I don’t find anything wrong with myself. I was a quiet and innocent girl in school. Naive is the correct word. Not so studious, but average nevertheless. It all started one day with a cigarette that I stole from my father’s pocket. I was just curious to try out new things.I tried it, liked it and continued with it, not regularly though.
It was the same with alcohol.I tried it when I was in the seventh grade and got addicted to it. Hence the nickname ‘drunkard’ by my so-called former friends. They left me after they saw my ‘true colours’.They always said that looks are deceptive and that I was the best example. I guess it’s true to an extent because I look innocent. Then there were crushes and relationships.
I still remember my first kiss and how it tasted of cigarette smoke. But none of my relationships lasted because I soon got bored of them and broke all bonds. Then my curiosity led me to drugs. One of my friends was having it and I expressed a strong desire to try it and he obliged. This is how I became an addict.
Ignorance is bliss
My folks are unaware of all these things. For them I am like any other normal girl. They have no issues with me. The b***hy neighborhood aunties have tried to change my mother’s pleasant attitude towards me but somehow I managed to convince her that they were just spreading rumours about me.
So here I am finally, wasted, a loser, an addict or whatever people like to call me. My professors think that I wasted my talent and my friends think that I wasted my life. But I am happy the way I am. Why can’t people just let me be the way I am?
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