You know you've been taking too many mcs when the nurse remembers your name, and the doctor greets you with: "Weren't you here a few days ago? So what can I do for you today?"
Ah, Doctor, if only I really wanted to be cured.
Since last night, my choice of poison has not stopped tasting like those in London. The distance of eight time zones, between there and now, is not quite that far after all. But only allowed in short spurts, the fragile balance is to be kept, before I open the door to nevermore.