Kratom is my only entertainment. Kratom is the only thing in life that is worth it. Nothing else matters. Mattress. It’s a mattress in disguise. It’s a mattress in disguise, Harry! Get down!

I threw up. As usual, quite a bit of volume to it. Also it’s loud, from what my family tells me, and I imagine sounds terrible. I do this to myself “” endquote. Legal disclaimer, I the slave must take all the blame.

I got rid of the coffee though I liked it. Maybe I can get rid of this. My one hope now is either the group therapy works, or I puke enough times that my stupid fucking brain rewires and realizes that it’s not a happy, nice beverage just to have oh whenever (i.e. all the fucking time).

This is stupid. If this were heroin I’d be dead and od’ed a long time ago. My addictive personality potential is too high. Why am I like this.

I quit booze, but only because I felt like I was dying for three days straight after the last time I binge drank. I don’t want the kratom to come to the same experience.

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