It all started because I wanted to impress a girl in my art class at a party.
But it was harmless. Acid wasn't such a bad drug. Right?
She rejected me but I continued to use it. The world felt just so different with it. I felt like a could fly and I looked at the world with a perception when I was on it. It gave me great inspiration for my paintings.
I found a dealer and they kept supplying it to me. I took it before everytime I had to create a painting for class. Sometimes I didn't actually end up painting it but most of the time it came out looking cool and psychedelic.
But my paintings gradually started loosing their uniqueness everytime if I didn't take huge amounts so I would would feel the same way when on an acid trip.
And if I didn't take it my paintings didn't come out good at all. Did I really have to take drugs to come out with a good painting? I still took it though, even if inside I felt like a failure.
My friends started noticing so.ething was up. And when they found where I hid it... Let's just say the only way they agreed to keep quiet was because I begged. I lost some of my best friends. When they took it away for my "own good" I couldn't help myself. I punched them and kicked then until I pried it from their hands.
I don't know how it ended up this way. It was just supposed to be a one time thing to seem cool to a girl.