The human body is an odd machine indeed: after Twenty-Six Years of Leprosy (my spin on Marquez’s “One Hundred Years of Solitude), I am forced to conclude that its comings and goings, as well as — even more oddly — its migrations from one part of the body to another are things which not even science has yet been able to explain.

And here’s the kicker: when I was a full-on junkie in my heyday (and this included everything — from booze, to weed, to ketamine, Molly, GHB, LSD, coke, heroin — my psoriasis was at an all time low for 15 years. Now that I’m only left with cigarettes and decaf (not even alcohol anymore), I’m COVERED in it.

Were I to apply ANY logic at all, I would venture to say that, as a junkie, my levels of stress and anxiety were close to none (mainly because, despite all the substances, I always managed to be self-sustaining and keep jobs). Now that I have no mood stabilizers, I have much more than I did in years.

Also, I know any medications with cortisone clear it up, but I have done my body sufficient damage, so I point-blank refuse to take cortisone until I absolutely must some day in my old age, for whatever reason.

Odd, when one thinks that being healthy would help clear these things up.

Go…fuckin’…figure, right? LOOLLL