Didn't ask you to save me. Not when you knew me well. Wouldn't ask you even to behave for me. I know there's no help in hell.

So, several weeks into my new role at work. All has been going very well, and if I carry on like this, I might even be able to dig myself out of the debt pit I've been sat in for the last oh so many years. Eventually.
Nice timing then, when the big bosses at work have decided to change our pay plans. We've had a months notice to let us now our commission structures will change, and as such, we will all be earning less. For me that means financially I'll be back to where I came from.
Shit Happens.
Good job I don't need money to be happy.
A little every now and then would be nice though.

I have searched for you, in the darkness of a dozen dingy dance floors. In countless queues in cafes in the suburbs. In the bed clothes of a thousand stranger's bedrooms.

I'm getting stoned tonight.
It's been a long, long, long time since I've had a smoke.
I don't miss it. I don't long for it. I don't crave for another.

As with most drugs, getting stoned affects different people in all kinds of different ways.
For me, I feel an amazing connection with music. I love music anyway. Music is my life. But enjoying music after one has partaken on a spliff, I feel connected to it in a whole different level. A much more emotional connection. I feel it much more. And I keep hearing new parts in the songs, buried deep within the rhythms, but I'd never heard them before.
I also do a lot thinking while I'm stoned. I don't know why, but my brain just feels more active.

Don't wait for me.