For the last two days, I've been feeling like a junky. Not because of the track marks, or the sleeping in cardboard box, or any of that shit.

But a junky, all the same. Because I go get a fix, I feel all good and "walking on air" and crap for a few days, and then I crash and burn because I can't get another fix.

That's what I am. I'm a love junky. I need some love methadone real quick. And then a good long time in detox.