Sometimes I think I should quite like to be an addict. It just seems easy and with the right drug, it gives you a feeling of being terribly glamorous. Cocaine is my drug of choice and I know that I’ve never felt quite the same level of classy as I do when I’ve got a $100 bill up my nose. At the moment, besides pot, the only drug I’m frequenting is diet pills. Mostly as directed but when I’m anxious or otherwise upset, I feel the urge to take lots of them. Such as today, after I talked to my dad.

He knows I’m visiting and I feel obligated to see him while I’m here. Not that I don’t love him, I do. I just don’t like him all that much. Or at all really.

But, he called me tonight to make plans. At least he’s making that effort. I was content just talking about it. So he called me and suggested we go to lunch. I was shooting for coffee, coffee doesn’t last as long. But, I suppose he is driving 30 minutes to see me so I can at least give him an hour of my time. The problem is, we have virtually nothing to talk about. We know the basics of each other’s lives and that’s all either of us cares to know.

I don’t much care for his wife and she doesn’t much care for me and so I have little desire to hear about his family considering they’re my family and I am constantly denied a chance to know them. He despises my mother so I don’t bring her up much. I hate when he goes on tangents about her. And I wish to protect my brother from him at all costs. He’s innocent and not yet tainted by the poison of being too involved with our father. I want him to stay that way. Although his own relationship with him is undoubtedly it’s own kind of poison.