I. NEED. METH.


I won’t survive on no crystal

Man, it’s like this daily grind with crystal meth ain’t what people think it is. Yeah, some folks see it as just a crazy drug, a mess-up ticket, but they don’t see the real struggle beneath. I need meth just to keep up—without it, I’m dead weight. It’s not like I want to be hooked, but here’s the thing: the doctors and the system? They treat us like garbage. They sell rehab like it’s the magic fix, but really, they’re just lining pockets while we’re left scrambling.

The streets? Yeah, they got dealers who push crystal meth like it’s candy, but no one offers a legit solution. It’s like we’re trapped in this nightmare where you gotta either get it from the streets or suffer. If only the docs would prescribe a clean version—the pharmaceutical kind, something real and safe—that way, we wouldn’t be stuck in the hands of crime lords or wreck our lives with the junk on the street.

We’re functional people too, just caught in a system that’s rigged. Crystal meth users aren’t criminals, we’re victims of a setup where nobody really cares. What we need is help that’s real, not this push-and-pull between rehab promises and drug peddlers. Let us get the treatment that lets us live without chaos, without the deadly side effects, without the game. That’s the only way out.

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