I am beginning to believe this is a problem. My longing is more than that, it is a nagging need curling and churning in the pit of my stomach. It is the one thought which continuously erases others, others which would generally take precedent to the rest, which would generally take control of me and my emotional state as a whole. My mind is consumed with the need for that euphoria, that sickening euphoria that when prolonged leads to this self-induced, self-inflicted, painful and draining crash. Without that, I am not me. I am a shell, a manican wearing a brightly colored mask. No part of my personality glitters and drips glory. It is a constant surge of emptiness, my life is without meaning as well as everything surrounding.