Chapter Seven - The God of Productivity, Cursed

CHAPTER SEVEN

The God of Productivity, Cursed

COCAINE

COCAINE DOESN’T enter quietly.
He kicks the door in, lights blazing, voice sharp, and eyes too wide.
He doesn’t sit down. He doesn’t slow down. He doesn’t ask.

He commands.

And for a moment?
He makes you feel like a god.

Sharp. Smooth. Untouchable.
A version of you without fear, fatigue, or second-guessing.

But it doesn’t last.

It never does.

Cocaine is a stimulant, pulled from the coca plant, refined into powder, packaged into power.

He promises edge.
Speed.
Confidence.

But it’s a performance drug, not a spiritual one.

He doesn’t expand your mind.
He tightens it. He focuses it into a laser aimed straight at your goals, your grind, and your dopamine.

And for a while, it works.

Cocaine hijacks your reward system.

It tells your brain you’ve already won.
That you’re the best in the room.
That you can keep going forever.

Your heart races.
Your thoughts sharpen.
Your fear goes silent.

And suddenly, everything becomes possible.
Talking, building, dancing, writing, working, scheming, whatever.

Until the moment it turns.

And it always turns.

People chase him because the world demands more.
More energy. More charm. More output.
And cocaine delivers. Fast.

He makes tired people feel awake.
Anxious people feel invincible.
Insecure people feel magnetic.

He is the mask.
The armor.
The loud suit of synthetic self-worth.

But the cost?

Is silence.

When he leaves, the echo hurts.
The crash is more than chemical, it’s existential.

Cocaine doesn’t love you back.

He flatters.
He elevates.
He disappears.

And when he’s gone, he takes your dopamine with him.

So you chase.

You build tolerance.
You need more to feel normal.
And soon, you’re not chasing highs anymore.

You’re just trying to feel okay.

That’s when he wins.
That’s when the god becomes a curse.

Cocaine is the teacher of illusion.

He shows you what the world rewards.
Speed. Energy. Charisma. Control.
But beneath it all, he teaches the hollowness of chasing validation through velocity.

He teaches that power without peace is a prison.
That your worth isn’t measured by your output.
That silence is not weakness.
And that the soul can’t be hustled.

He says:

“I can make you feel like a king.”
But he doesn’t say for how long.
And he never says what it’ll cost you to feel human again.