I went to Japan not thinking I was coming back. This was our first trip there; this was right before I got clean. And as the story has kind of gone, I got on that plane and I packed real light. I was so addicted to self-destruction, I think more than the drugs. There is something very romantic about it. And I didn’t pack anything, I packed show clothes and they smelled awful, they smelled like I had lived on the streets. I really thought I was going to die. I thought I wasn’t coming back.
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wordscantencapsulate reblogged this from wordscantencapsulate I have a lot of thoughts about the romance of self-destruction - but also just how sometimes survival is this blank...
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