The Part Before Change
I don’t glamorize this
there’s no movie score behind it
no needles
no sirens
no alleyway mythology
this is quieter than that
which makes it worse
this is the kind of fight nobody respects
including me
so I’ll say it clean
no excuses
no filters
no performance
and I’ll let it sit exactly as it is
I don’t fight needles
I don’t shake in alleys
I don’t steal for a hit
it’s a fuckin’ weed pod
that’s the pathetic part
that’s where the shame lives
everyone laughs when you say it out loud
weed isn’t supposed to be dangerous
it’s supposed to chill you out
make music sound warmer
make food taste better
make life softer
but for me it’s a leash
the need comes quiet
not dramatic
not rock bottom
just that low hum in the chest
that whisper saying just one pull
you earned it
you survived today
then the shame comes right after
fast and heavy
like someone turned the lights on
and I’m standing there
grown man
fighting a plastic stick
I hide it
I plan around it
I measure my day by when I can hit it again
that’s the part nobody tells you
addiction doesn’t always look like chaos
sometimes it looks like routine
sometimes it looks like me
knowing better
still reaching
I hate how small it makes me feel
how weak
how it shrinks the room
shrinks my thoughts
shrinks my courage
I hate that I need it to feel normal
and hate myself for needing it
at the same time
it’s not the weed
it’s what I’m running from
it’s the silence
the old noise
the pressure in my chest when I sit still too long
so I hit the pod
and for a minute
I disappear
then I come back
foggy
ashamed
telling myself tomorrow
always tomorrow
and the worst part
the part I don’t say out loud
is knowing I’ve fought harder things
taken real hits
bled for real reasons
yet this stupid little thing
still has its hand on my throat
that’s my struggle
not dramatic
not cool
not tragic enough for sympathy
just real
just ugly
just honest
no moral
no bow on it
no lesson yet
just a man admitting the cage
and not pretending it’s made of steel
this is the part before change
the part nobody screenshots
the part that actually matters
vita sporca
Somewhere in the middle of this, I stopped nodding and just went quiet.
It’s not loud or dramatic — it’s small, routine, awkwardly honest. A tiny thing with way too much power, and the courage to say that out loud without making it cool or tragic. That’s what got me.
This feels like the moment right before the door creaks open. Not the change yet — just the hand finally touching the latch.