"Who Own's My Heart"

I have dedicated this to a friends boyfriend who recently almost lost his life on Friday evening due to meth use, and I have posted this after weeks of planning and wanted to post this in honor of him, and his decision to become sober :)

"Who Own's My Heart" - Video

I was going through my play list this morning, and of course Ms. Miley came on the iTunes list and had to listen to it, and this song came up, and I thought to myself, how can I write something philosophical, personal, and emotional all in one context?  How many of you when you heard this song asked the question, who, or what is she talking about?  

Creation shows me what to do
I'm dancing on the floor with you
And when you touch my hand
I go crazy, yeah

We all are raised a certain way, some are raised in a religious family, with the expectations to do phenomenal well in school regardless of the also expected soccer practice, drama rehearsal, orchestra concert, and the voice lessons every Tuesday and Thursday for our entire elementary year’s of school.  Or perhaps you come from a up bringing of a broken home, where Mom left Dad when you were two, and moved to Seattle and then your separated with Dad, and your now in Central London reading this, and the perfect close nit family example makes no sense to you what so ever.  Ultimately, we all come from different “creations” of our being, so to speak.  We can all piece back to high school our first crush, or our first kiss, what did that feel like?  Did it suck? Hell no it felt amazing; otherwise you wouldn’t have gone back for more, right?  Or do we go back for more because of the euphoria we feel physically, or is it an emotional high we get from our first kiss? 

My first encounter with Meth was, nothing but boring.  If it was, why would I have continued? 

The music tells me what to feel
I like you now
But is this real
By the time we say goodnight
I'll know if this is right

Going back to my very first blog, I'll reiterate briefly, I have for the past 4 years been struggling with a methamphetamine addiction.  Okay fuck this, by now you should have a pretty good idea of my writing to know.. Let me just start off and you'll catch on.


And I feel you (you) coming through my veins.
Am I into you (you) or is it music to blame?



We've all had our days where we sit on adam4adam, at some point of another on the prowl, yes you, in fact your buzzer for new mail probably just went off 3 times as you read this :).  Roughly a year ago, I was in the climax of my "Tina" lifestyle, and I had always heard of people who 'slammed,' and I wanted to know what that felt like.  All the while our parents teach us when were young to not try something bad less we get hooked on the euphoric rush of the act of doing so, or the act of getting to that point.  None the less I still tried it, watch the person I was with at the time un do the clean syringe, pack a huge scoop of Tina in and then draw back some saline solution, and then shake it until it dissolved, then put the tourniquet on my left arm, and then said count to three, and pushed the needle into my arm....  next thing i knew the band popped off, and my head spun, my body shuddered with an incredible sensation that I had never felt in my life...  Before I knew it, I was doing things sexually, that should have been humanly impossible, disrespectful to myself, and even perhaps someone I was dating, but at the time didn’t care. In the final moments of the climaxing high, I began coughing uncontrollably, my breathing stopped, for what felt like an infinite amount of time, and the coughing persisted, as it hit the blood and changed my perception of life to this very day.

 No memory that I was able to recollect at the very moment could even fill the space in which was overwhelmed with so much 'love' and 'music'.  There was no person, or persons that could have been able to offer me such ecstasy.  

Who owns my heart
Is it love or is it art
You know I wanna believe that we're a masterpiece
But sometimes it's hard to tell in the dark
Who owns my heart

For the past 4 years, who was it that owned my heart?  Was it the drugs, or was it me, was I in control, was I deciphering between giving my emotion and physical energy to those who really cared about me, or was it spent, and jolted back up, and drained to then be shot up again with this never ending longing to be in this fog; so hazy and thick that no matter what I did, I didn’t care.  Nothing seemed to matter, my answer to life, if you knew me about 10 months ago, would know it was, “I don’t care.” Or, “I’m over it.”  So easy right, you can get mad at a professor for “fucking:” your semester up or for not giving you the grade you wanted but, ultimately, you fucked yourself.  Debatable yes, but, why did that happen.   Why was my life, in my eyes, such a waste?  Why did I not care?  For months why did I lay in my room in the corner, with a syringe of half dried up blood and meth and poke holes in my arms…and try to shove a little bit in.  A never ending process, and if it worked; “great! I got a little bit; I can get out of bed today…” and some people say, how can you get to that point.  Well, any addict knows, one more sip of beer, oh one more sip it wont hurt anything, I can drive!  Looking back, it has become mind blowing that it was so easy for me to shut out my friends and allow this drug to literally own my heart and mind.  And the term friend is used so loosely now a days, isn’t it, I mean we can meet someone online, or on facebook and the next day, your “friends”.  After shooting up daily, even as little as .10, and friends telling me that they were done with me in their life, Mom and Dad kicked me out, and friends saying, you look like a crack whore, walking into the clubs and hearing my name talked about, days spent online to try and get my next fix, lying to friends about being home, or being somewhere doing something, when in all actuality I was filling up the syringe, or trying to find a vein.  Addiction is something we all face, and I have come to realize is it really about the amount of days your sober, or if you’re a pot head, cigarette smoker, alcoholic, or drug addict, does it matter if you follow the steps, they all come into play, but realizing why you do those things, and understanding that there’s been others who have been though it before, and were willing to help, at any cost, blood, sweat and tears, I encourage everyone to be thankful for those in their lives this evening, as we seldom realize that even those around us, whose lives look absolutely extraordinary on the outside, may be so broken that tomorrow they may not be around, and embrace them and understand life is a precious gift.