My Chemical Baby

Its your crystal meth

Ideal perfection 

Now that I've tasted death 

I'm addicted to infection 

I'm the broken soul 

The line that never fits 

I'm the begger on death row 

Taking whatever she can can get 

I'm self destructive 

But the highs too seductive 

So crush me up 

Rail a line 

Sink down beside me 

Let our bodies intertwine 

If I know no right 

We can never make wrong 

So shoot me up baby 

Maybe sing along 

If you wanna hallucinate 

Baby, I can facilitate 

Its my sadistic ecstacy 

An addictive chemical pleasantry

I can take you higher up

Than wings and jetplanes could ever do 

So come close and maybe 

My chemical baby, 

I promise it'll only hurt a bit

 I don't really know were my obsession with self destruction arose from. Yet, this addictive personality I have acquired over the years has lead me to my new favorite hobby- masochism in the most optimistic way possible (and yes, I do realize that sentence is a complete oxymoron.)
I have no mental problems, health issues and have be raised in a fairly normal-very open minded- and stable middle class family. For the longest time I have thought that this little obsession was just a form of rebellion. Though I have very little deprivation of voice and generally don't have a very solid cause to  rebel against.
I would assume for a while my friends got the indication that I was clinically depressed. Which to me was sickly humorous. Though the constant concern made me question my own sanity, and I wont lie, sometimes I still do. Then again alternating insanity does happen to the best of us.
Even though i do have a sarcastic and "partly cloudy" outlook on life, I am defiantly not depressed, or suicidal for that matter.
I'm just seduced into taking things one buckle away from life-threatening or destructive.
Which I assume just makes me masochistic.