In dubio is a Dutch expression meaning something along the lines of wondering about stuff or trying to decide for or against on a situation. This sums me up quite perfectly right now. I don't even know if I really want to share or if I actually want a reaction, but right now this seems like the right thing to do, to get it off my chest. Quick recap of last week for me. Wednesday I get my first pay check and repay a friend (who bought quite a bit of tobacco for me, by giving him 50 bucks worth of tobacco back, also repaid my parents who I borrowed money off of to go drinking [20 bucks for drinking + 100 bucks for checks]); Thursday I take out 100 bucks to buy coke, weed, hashish, tobacco, space-cake and booze; Friday I decide to get another 50 bucks worth of coke and get another 50 bucks for beer that night; Friday I ran out of coke and booze-money, also got some more space-cake, spent 175 bucks on booze and coke; Sunday I was royally fucked in the head and completely detached from reality due to, what I usually call, a coke-hangover. I went through 3 slices of space-cake, 4 grams of coke, 3 packs of tobacco and a few crates of beer. Now I'm starting to wonder why I even spend that much on all that shit. Sure, it makes me feel good... for a short while, but in the end it fucks my body up, destroys my bank account and pisses the people closest to me off (a sarcastic sense of humour + coke = shitty me). Then the following week I feel shitty for spending half my fucking salary in 4 days. Add to that the damage I do to myself, whilst I promised my best friend I wouldn't kill myself and you have one very confused me. It starts to feel like a slowed-down suicide, I mean I went through 2-2.5 grams of coke on Saturday ALONE. I'm writing a story called 'Dagboek van een Junk' which is about my own and my friends' experiences with drugs... I'm starting to feel like if I wrote down what I did last weekend it would be a best-seller anyway and I could call it non-fiction to boot. I'm not really sure what the hell all this means, nor do I know what the fuck I'm going to do next, but it kind of feels really good to get it off my chest, even though I've probably gone through a dozen incarnations of the above in my head and it still came out different. Hell, as I said, I don't even know if I WANT a reply.