Death In the Afternoon

All I can taste is that familiar pungent feeling. It's like if I had never tried it I would never walk through life knowing or regretting it. I'm not sure I regret it yet, but I do wish I had weighed the consequences. I am tainted. Or at least I feel tainted. I am not alone in this spoiling of spirit, and yet that does not comfort me in the least bit. Everywhere I go I can help think of it and its distinct characteristics. Although it is constantly on my mind, I don't yearn for it as others do. This possession prized by some, hoarded by others, is scaring me in ways I never thought imaginable when I was naïve. It has distorted my vision of the world so that I can not fathom minute fragrances. It is hard to picture a world without such corruption, but I wouldn't know. I never try.