Delusions of Addiction

Truth and lies

2006-04-23T23:08:00.000-07:00

I managed to make it home, but truth be told I‘m not sure if I wanted to… There was more than one bus, more than one vehicle that looked suitable for jumping out in front of. I have realized more than I thought that I would while keeping track of my thoughts. One is that I am not a good person; two is that I am on a path of self-destruction that my middle-class suburbia family doesn’t understand. They will never understand that it doesn’t take a shitty childhood with abuse, of any kind, to create an addict. They will never realize that just because I have brains doesn’t always mean that I want to use them. I spent most of my life dying to fit in with any of the kids at school. I never did. I don’t want to be someone’s poster child or letter of example. These are my choices, drugs did not ruin me, they ensnared me, there is a difference. To often I see or hear people complain that drugs destroyed their lives, what a cop-out that is. We make the choices, drugs don’t. By blaming drugs, we are just often putting blame onto something other than ourselves. (This is a society thing right now, it’s everyone else’s fault, it’s the experiences in my life’s fault) When are we going to stand up and take responsibility for the things that we do and the people that we hurt with our choices? I know that I’ve made bad or wrong choices, but they were/are my choices. Now I am forced to make a choice I never wanted to, my family or my lifestyle… I understand that it’s hard to watch someone be an addict, but is giving him or her an ultimatum really the best option? Clean up or else? I hate to tell the ‘preacher’s’ of the world, but whoever gives me the ultimatum is the one who loses… at least in most life decisions. Giving up your family isn’t easy, though neither is giving up an addiction. Most sober people would say that there isn’t even a question as to what to give up, but it isn’t that easy for an addict. We never, and I do mean never get rid of our addiction, it is always there in the back of our minds even when it isn’t right in front of us. Just ask any smoker, you always crave that habit, that addiction when you get stressed, or when things in life go wrong. Granted acquiring powders is a little bit trickier than going to the store and picking up a pack of smokes, but it can still be done… The point of all this, I sit here with a mirror in front of me, a few rails lined up, wondering if tomorrow will be any different.

crashing

2006-04-22T21:13:00.000-07:00

I stood looking dumbfounded at the door, which had just shut silently behind her… I was shaking, my heart was pounding and I simply couldn’t breath. I was dieing… Why did it have to be like that? Why did it have to be all or nothing? My eyes slid across the room, falling on the shattered mirror… Thank god I hadn’t cut up the lines I was going to before the knock at the door. I had lost so much, but at least I could still get high and my body screamed to get high. I went to the bathroom and took down one of my make-up bags. I pulled out my compact, got a screwdriver and hammer, broke the mirror out of its case (cases just cause build up, I prefer my mirror as just that, a mirror), walked back to my couch broke up everything I had left (figure about a half gram or so) lined it up in five neat rails, picked up the phone and called my dealer (if I was gonna do this, I was gonna need more), hung up the phone, leaned over and inhaled, again and again and again and again and again… Until it was all gone. (Yes, I licked the mirror and blade) I sat back and let her fingers slide into my soul. She ensnared my heart as it began to pound, the rush of blood through my veins echoing in my ears. The moments before forgotten, as she wrapped me in her arms, entangling my senses and ensnaring my soul. I’m not quite sure what happened next, whether the phone or the doorbell rang first. I wiped my tear-stained cheeks, straightened up, yelled hang on and sat back down. I attempted the second time, grabbing the phone and answering it as I stood up. At the door I found one of my favorite girls, all dressed up and no one to go out with… On the phone my dad… I don’t remember the words, but I know that it’s all my fault and that I’m stupid and irresponsible, I also know he loves me and can’t understand why I do the things I do. He cried, I died again… I hung up the phone, looked at my girl and said let’s go. She asked if we could step inside, I said most certainly. She whipped out her pipe and we smoked ourselves into an increasing stupor. I asked if we could stop by my dealer’s as we put on our coats, she said yeah…as long as I shared, we both laughed, like that wasn’t going to happen… We got to my dealer’s and we got high again, have I mentioned that at this point I had about a gram surging through me? We headed for the club, I’m glad I wasn’t driving, the tracers where intense off the lights of the world. She threw a cigarette pack at me and told me to light a joint…I didn’t need telling twice. I remember getting to the club, I remember my first couple of drinks and dancing and lights and music and faces, lots of faces… I remember leaving the club, I remember the party after, I remember the sun rising, the eight ball snug in my purse, the boys were being generous and who could pass up generous… I remember stumbling home, the world buzzing with life around me. Me greasy from days of not showering, hiding behind sunglasses tinted as dark as the moonless night sky… The sun hurt, hurt everything, I just wanted to get home…

remembering can be painful

2006-04-21T22:57:00.000-07:00

I know it was about five o'clock when there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find my mother (of all people) standing in front me. I panicked, the mess behind me was proof of the life that I lead... The words spoken are irrelevant, but the pain was unbearable. She was worried when I didn’t come home and now she knew the reason why. I fucked up and she cried, it was her heart that broke…not mine. She begged me to see reason, begged me to see what the choices that I have been making were doing to me. She actually thanked God (her god not mine) that she didn’t have to see me everyday. Then she screamed and raged at me, her disappointment and pity etched on her face. The words that fell from her lips clawed their way under my skin slowly eating away at my already exhausted mind (I’d been up for…well for awhile anyway). She told me to pack my stuff as she whipped the mirror from the table and shattered it against the wall. (we were in the apartment, door closed) I raged back, told her to get out told her it was my life, told her I was sorry, but this was who I was… I made a mistake… And that was it, no more, no less. She looked into my soul, livid with my truths entangled in the lies… My eyes pleading with her to accept my words, my heart broke as she picked up her purse. A deep sigh escaped her lips as she stood up and walked to the door. She couldn’t control me, only love me and she couldn’t watch me do what I was doing… I can’t go home unless I’m clean…no excuses, no exceptions…

I think I died

2006-04-20T19:15:00.000-07:00

I know it's been a few days, but the last one was rather disturbing... I think... I don't really remember anything. A close friend of mine has a key to my place and apparently found me unconcious lying in the middle of the bathroom floor. After checking my pulse, determining I was not dead, shaking me into conciousness, putting me in bed and watching over me for the last oh I don't know (she just left a bit ago) how long (and yes she woke me up in intervals), I sit here wrapped in a blanket shivering but concious, at least for the moment. I have a cup of steaming chicken broth beside my computer (I don't think I can handle anything else as it hurts to breath due to the amount of retching I apparently did) and a hot cup of tea. I sat on the bottom of the shower for awhile and just let the scalding water wash over me as it filled the bathtub. I was freezing the whole time. I remember today, in bits and pieces and yes, I've smoked a few joints but truth be told I don't think anything else can cure my nausea. My head feels like someone has stuck a railroad spike in it (Mind you, yes, they used a malet to pound it in good and tight) Everything aches and I just feel off... I wonder if I think hard enough I can figure out what happend, but that may have to wait...

not feeling better

2006-04-18T20:45:00.000-07:00

Have you ever noticed how stupid one can be? I mean how stupid and idiotic do you have to be to forget Easter? To forget about your family? The truth is I was stupid enough to get high on Friday and forgot to come down... As a matter of fact I haven't decided whether or not coming down is such a good idea. I mean once a drug addict always a drug addict right? I might as well justo plunge back into the world I'm trying (yes, I am trying) to leave behind. The truth is I struggle everyday, every time the world gets rough, everytime I'm bored all I really want to do is get high. People say that drug addicts can't break away from drugs by themselves. I'm begining to see some truth behind what I thought was madness. I know that millions of people in this worldfunction without drugs. I just don't seem to be one of those people. Even when I'm not high on powders, I smoke weed or go out for a drink (or ten). I realize that I have an addictive personality - a personality that is prone to become addicted to things like drugs, alcohol, even people. I've spent the past weeks trying to log what I do to see if anything I do makes sense, if the way I think makes sense...

feeling an eighth of an inch high

2006-04-17T19:39:00.000-07:00

My mom couldn't hide the dissapointment in her voice when I called... It broke my heart as she almost whispered in moments and in others forced cheerfulness to the surface. I have managed to single handedly put a damper on her holiday. (I don't do Christian holidays if I can help it, though I humor my parents and my siblings by making them at least a way to get together) I did the only thing I could do when I got off the phone, I did another line...

who said it could be easter?

2006-04-16T07:45:00.000-07:00

I realize that I've been a bit out of it recently, but who said that it could be Easter? I forgot just doesn't seem like it's going to be a good enough excuse as to why I didn't go home this weekend and I know that "I was high" isn't going to work either. I may have officially just broken my mother's heart and I was almost to high to notice. Actually if it wasn't for one of the people I was with who has kids I wouldn't have known until it was to late. At least this way I can at least call...

I love adventures

2006-04-15T21:10:00.000-07:00

So I have about six people surrounding me. Some are drinking (not loud and obnoxious, just havin a few), some are smokin bud, some are smokin powders, some are doin rails. Actually we're almost all doing all of the above, but it leads to great conversation and a rather large slumber party. (minus the slumber) Today we spent time by the lake for awhile (I'd say swimming, but where I live you don't want any of your toes in the water at this time of year. There may be water, but the ice isn't gone yet. One thing I don't understand: Why people, men inparticular, must throw things onto the floating ice chunck (it's usually one chuncks (or the one large one, depending on time of year, stage of thaw and of course how many others have previously attempted this sport; everyone's gotta get lucky once in a while right?) in a vain attempt to break it? But hey as long as it occupies them (and it does, oh trust me it does). We went for a walk after up the shore line. I love where I live, nature is so in your face no matter where you are. (No I'm not tellin you where it is then you might come here, like it, stay and eventually it will be too big, it almost is) We've been hangin at the apartment watchin movies and obsucure television programs. In moments I am part of the group around me and yet in times like this I prefer to make excuses (hey I do have projects to do) to be seperate from them. It enables me to sit back and just watch.. the expressions of their faces as they talk, the twitches that are unique to only them...

adventure looms

2006-04-14T22:20:00.000-07:00

I'm off on an adventure for the weekend and thought that I would drop a quick note in case I get sucked in. I've realised many things and one is that I may never not be addicted to being high. I like being high. I like the way it makes me feel, well at least when I'm high. I like being high with my friends, on almost anything. For some reason I am an addict, a semi-responsible, but an addict none the less. One must take note at this point that only the insane or addicted would start a weekend adventure at this time of night... It's a good things I'm both

contraversial ramblings

2006-04-13T18:52:00.000-07:00

I tend to over think everything. I'm also a bit paranoid. (hey, even when I'm not high thank you very much). Due to my overthinking, (which goes especially haywire on days when I don't sleep) I tend to come up with some rather bizzare ways of looking at the world. For example, Monogomy... (something I'm not a real big fan of) When did society come to the conclusion that human beings are supposed to find everything their looking for in one person? Isn't that just a bit unrealistic? I don't even have one close friend, I have four. They say that drugs chip away at our inhabitions, if that's the case why do we have those inhabitions in the first place? I guess maye it's better put - Are we a better society for "building in" the inhabitions that we inevitably are going to want to chip away at? Does society play a more beneath the surface, besides the in your face, role than we want to acknowledge much less accept? All this leads me back to where those inhabitions come from in the first place. This leads me to another contraversial topic, religion. Don't get me wrong, I think that believing in some type of morals and values is essential to existing in the world. I just think that religion has been skewed away from what it was originally ment to be. Why? Power. Power over each other, and not just physical power. Emotional power. The power to control the ways that people think, believe and feel. Look at Catholicism for example. They took Pagan beliefs and incorporated them into their own in order to gain control over the common folk of the time (mind you I once found pagan described as the religion of the common folk). Catholicism (the birthplace of most, if not all modern Christian religion) changed more than just the belief's of the people it touched. It changed the way that entire races and even the sexes were viewed. I think religion, at least Christianity, has done more harm than help where human inhabitions are concerned. Sex (hey look, I rolled around to Mahnogamy again... well sorta) is a good example. In many Pagan belief systems, sexual acts were seen as something to be celebrated. In many Christian belief systems, sexual acts are seen as evil or being of the darker side of life. It hasn't been until the last say ten - twenty years that the taboo that sexual acts are not to be spoken of, or are shameful has started to change. So what does all this have to do with the fact that I've been up for way to long? Well, I was raised in the Catholic religion. I'm not trying to deny my own free will, but I think that some of the inhabitions and insecurities that I attempt to drown out, come out of the things that I was taught (whether inadverently or not) as a child. Ultimatley we are responsible for the way that we choose to believe and the things that we do. I question though "our" ability to seperate the whispers of the past...

hurting all over

2006-04-11T20:55:00.000-07:00

Have you ever had a day where you wake up and just hurt? Just achy hurt, all over? I woke up like that this morning. I thought stretching might help, no go. Surley a hot shower would make it all go away, or not. I thought caffiene might help, nope. Muscle relaxors weren't even affective. It sucked, so I smoked a few bats, in a desperate hope that I would not just feel like a bigger puddle of mush than I already did. This was definitely not the brightest thing I have ever done, though it did give me the munchies, so I remembered to eat. Yeah, go me. I was rummaging around in my purse when I felt a small bag with something hard in it. I forgot that I had stashed it in the back pocket. I got warm fuzzies just looking at it. I couldn't help it, I knew it would fix me and it did. I went to school, I went to work and I'm getting ready to do homework. I feel like I live a semi-normal life, well with the exception that I stopped by my dealer's today...

little old ladies

2006-04-10T21:03:00.000-07:00

Could someone please tell me who filled this world with little old ladies in big hats and way to much perfume? I really want to know the answer. I continued through the night into the day, with only a shower as a semi wake-up. I went to school in a half daze and then to work at four. This is where the issue came in. This short, rather round, old lady in a big hat with obnoxious flowers on it (also obnoxiously big) came into the department. I let her look around a bit, inhaled all the clean air I could and went over to ask if I could help. (I was really hoping she was just looking, she wasn't) She replied while pulling a catalogue out of her purse (which was also overly large) "I want this spread, everything, do you have it in stock? I was attempting not to pass out as she waved the pages under my nose circulating the already sickningly sweet air that was around her. I looked (I prayed we didn't have it) and hey one thing went my way, we didn't have it. She looked at me with puppy dog eyes and inquired if I could order it for her. (Did I really want to? No, but something tells me that's what I get paid for) I walked over to the counter and started the ordering process on the computer. She had issues with me ordering it on the computer, can I do it over the phone so they get it right? Sure, no problem. When I order it could I make sure that they get it right, because they got it wrong last time. I found the one thing even more obnoxious then her perfume, her breath. I finally got it all finished, then I asked her how she would like to pay. She reached into the depths of her bag pulling out a bulging wallet. Opening it up she had to go through each credit card and discuss how much she could put on each one, then she fiddled with her checks. At this point she started going into social security and retierment. I swear to God that I heard her life story and more. I smiled (you know that I'm really tired and I wish you'd just leave me alone smile) swipped the card she finally decided on and sent her on her way. Her smell lingured in the department for the rest of the shift... I'm glad I'm home smoking some weed, where the smells are normal.

Sunday...

2006-04-09T21:15:00.000-07:00

I do believe that according to the Christians Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest. If that is the theory I want to know why I rarely get to actually rest on Sunday? I rarely get to sleep, even in the earliest of the morning hours. (I'm not stupid, I know it's the drugs) I went on a walk today, it was actually warm enough that I wore only my sweatshirt. Yeah! I love the woods, it's so peaceful. I know this is going to sound strange, but I love to tweak outside. (Yeah I know that it's bright but that's why sunglasses were invented.) At night, during the day, who cares as long as there is fresh air involved. It did us both (my friend is hiding from the world with me) good, though when we finally arrived home a spell ago, we got high again. Something tells me that it could be a very long Monday...

The begining

2006-04-08T20:33:00.000-07:00

The day didn't stay as peaceful as it could have. A friend showed up about six in tears. I'd like to say it was something as simple as a fallout with her man, but family is much more ocmplicated. Mother's are much more complicated to be specific. As the words fell from her lips, her blue eyes glistened in the light, tears forming and flowing out of her control. I did the only thing I could do, I listened quietly while rolling a joint. I finally interupted her long enough to tell her to light it. (Pot soothes the nerves and I hoped it would help calm her down) As we smoked her puffy eyes started to sag, so I turned on the tv and grabbed the quilt off the back of the couch. We talked for awile (she did most of it hashing and rehashing the words that had been spoken). Her voice growing quieter with evey second. I looked over and she slept... I covered her up and went to the kitchen to make myself a little something. When she awoke she looked at me with a sly smile and asked if I wanted to take a trip and help her forget... I couldn't let her go by herself, there's no telling where her emotions would take her and besides it's the weekend... She pulled a pipe from her bag, sat cross-legged on the floor, pulled out a baggie full of rock, pulled out a piece, put it in the pipe and lit up. When she offered it to me all I could think of was the horid taste that I would soon have in my mouth and how I would so much prefer to just deal with the slide that goes down the back of your throat after a line. Oh well, the trip was free...

a normal moment

2006-04-07T13:01:00.000-07:00

I feel normal. This is weird for me because I've felt different my entire life. I was sitting outside, people passed me by, smiling as they went. I was looking at the sky, it's big. Where I live the sky, even in town, is filled with stars. Every once in a while I get lucky and witness the Goddess in her majesty as she dances across the night sky. Constantly changing her patterns and colors, she offers us a taste of her hidden beauty... Maybe there are messages hidden in her dances, then again maybe I'm thinking to much...so much for normal.

Another long day

2006-04-06T00:24:00.000-07:00

I slept and slept and slept after I got home Tuesday night. Have you ever been driving down the road and all of a sudden there are three roads in front of you? So, you pick the one in the middle as the actual road and just pray that you don't collide with anything until you reach your destination. All I can say is that I'm really glad the drive home is fairly short. I am also completley convinced that my car, not only, can drive itself, but that it knows the way home... this is good. Today was a not so bad day after I peeled myself from the sheets and slithered to the shower. The hot water running over me helped me to shed the layer of life that had built up on my body over the weekend. I realize it's half way through the week and that Friday is just around the corner, but everyone has to have those weekends where they kinda meld into the begining of the week. It's just that it happens to me, seemingly, more often than to other people. Lots of things seem to happen to me more often than they happen to other people... I wonder why that is... Oh well, it's a good thing that nothing suprises me anymore.

a short note

2006-04-04T12:26:00.000-07:00

I don't know how I'm going to make it thru the day... I just woke up, I missed class and work is on the horizon. I have dug myself a hole and once again all I want to do is curl up in it and die...

I didn't mean to

2006-04-03T20:33:00.000-07:00

I lied, but I didn't mean to... Well I guess it wasn't a lie per say, but my Monday thru Friday responsibility is faltering. I still haven't managed to get any sleep, but I have managed to catch up on all of my homework. I thought that this was a major accomplishment. Hey, I'm even ahead in a few areas. It's nice, a bit of stress relieved. I did make it to class today and I don't work until tommorow around four. I figure if I eventually find a bit of sleep tonight I should be ok.

sleep, what is sleep?

2006-04-02T21:46:00.000-07:00

I've learned recently that fate is a cruel and fickle creature. I did not intend to slip, intend being the operative word. I haven't seen the backs of my eyelids for quite a spell. The funny part is I've been rather quiet in the things I've been doing. I rearranged my room (it requires cleaning, so I'll spare you the details), did my homework, stared aimlessly at the computer screen for awhile which has led me here. All this time I've been thinking about the way my life turned out. I never intended to be the addict that I am. I guess you could consider this a testamonial of sorts. I know what I am everyday that I look in the mirror. I am not blind, but (as there usually is with addicts) I have the freedom and the ability to make this choice. I pay my bills, I don't have kids, I go to school, I take care of myself (more Monday thru Thursday versus Friday through Sunday) I survive just fine in this world of madness. Hey, I did surf the net for awhile this evening and believe it or not I found a few interesting sites that deal with drugs that are neutral, yet informative (I figure hey if I'm going to enjoy them I might as well know as much about them as possible). No, the truth is I was boppin around Columbia University's web site (don't ask) and I found this page. While it does contain info on drugs, it also contains all sorts of Q and A about all sorts of different topics, including things from man boobs to statutory rape. It's weird the things one finds when they aren't looking.

still going

2006-04-02T07:22:00.000-07:00

As much as I like sleep, I hate it at the same time. I think it's something left over from my childhood. My mother always tells me that attempting to get me to sleep was always a war of sorts. This was do (and still is) to the fact that I didn't want to miss anything. It didn't (and still doesn't) matter what was happening I needed to know. Now don't go getting the idea that I'm a nosy neighbor. I couldn't give a shit what people outside my world are doing, it's the one's inside my world that intrigue me. I don't like people, people suck (well, their ok in small doses). I hate to say it, but rambling seems to be the thing to do at the moment as I haven't yet slept...

a calling

2006-04-01T00:20:00.000-08:00

Another day another dollar, as the old saying goes. No school, just work. I would like to say that I'm heading for a relaxing weekend (what's left of it), but adventure calls...it always does...

a thought

2006-03-31T10:58:00.000-08:00

I like sleep. It's rejuvenating and not just for the body either it's good for the soul too. Just thought you ought to know....

ramblings of sobriety

2006-03-30T20:47:00.000-08:00

I had what most would consider a normal day. I woke up, went to school and work, came home, ate dinner and am now doing homework. I hate normal. The truth is all this sobriety is a bit overwhelming. I'm not accustomed to it and I don't know that I want to become accustomed to it. I have looked at where my drugs come from, but here's the deal - it's not like addicts are all going to stop using, so what difference does it make if one addict quits? Those who choose to manufacture such creations are still going to do it. Kids are still going to grow up in crime ridden neighborhoods, in houses with addicted parents. The world we live in sucks plain and simple. It sucked when our parents gave it to us, it sucked when their parents gave it to them. My point is (yes I have one) It's no wonder there are so many of us in the world with addictions, even legal ones. My brain hurts. I've been thinking like this all day. I think I'll just smoke a little bud and wander to bed...

Fact (and a little naivity)

2006-03-29T12:39:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure I understand addiction and all the info that goes with it. I was reading an article at the doctor's office that dealt with the manufacturing and ingredients of meth. (I think I need to do research.) Growing up I swore that I would never put anything into my body if I wasn't aware of it's ingrediants. That went to hell in a handbasket. I had no clue of all the different shit that was used to cook up a batch of meth. My own naivity shows through here. I mean I always knew that it was bad for you, I always knew that it wasn't "society approved", but what the hell? I feel really stupid, how could I have not known that maufacturers of meth sometimes cook this shit up in the trunks of old cars, or in their basements with their kids upstairs (Hello, highly explosive) I guess it just never occured to me to look at where my drugs were coming from...

recovery

2006-03-28T08:14:00.000-08:00

I didn't actually manage to get the license plate number of the truck that ran me over as I slept. I slept long and hard though in the dungeon that is my room. I woke up yesturday with just enough time to make it to class, even though my skull felt like it was splitting open. Thank God I didn't have to work! I oozed back into my apartment (I had become a puddle sometime throughout the day) and seeped into my couch. I didn't turn on the light, I didn't turn on the tv, I didn't do anything, but slip into a delicious state of unconciousness. I woke up sometime in the night with my stomach trying to eat it's way out of my body. I blinded myself with the kitchen light as I turned it on and rummaged through the cabinet in search of soda crackers and hey, bonus for me, I even found juice of the orange variety in the fridge (When had I bought that?). I settled into the couch and zoned on an old Audrey Hepburn flick My Fair Lady. Bast curled up in my lap. I don't know when I dosed off, but I woke up a bit ago, still hungary. So, I guess I'll leave you and wander to school, they have food.

unspeakable deeds

2006-03-26T20:39:00.000-08:00

I sat in my living room having just finished work, relaxing. I opened my school bag and slid the books onto the table. (sounds responsible right?) The phone rang, this would prove to be my ultimate mistake. I answered the phone, it was seven o'clock. No, I wouldn't mind getting together with a few friends for some drinks, besides I could really use to go out. Nine o'clock is good, just enough time to do a bit of homework, have a meeting with the closet god and get out the door. I made it out the door on time and headed to one of my girlfriends houses, well actually it's an apartment but it doesn't matter. As I walked down the hall towards her door I could hear the thump of bass, for some reason this made me smile. I was overwhelmed by the smell of weed and incense as I walked in the door. I love that particular type of incense, sandlewood rose. I had barley gotten my cost off when one of the guys handed me a blunt. (A little weed doesn't hurt right?) I sat down inbetween two of my companions for the evening and proceeded to get stoned out of my gourd, it was great. More people arrived and the music played on. I don't know when we left the house for the bar, but we must have looked like a gang as we spilled from the apartment into the hallway, down the stairs, across the lawn to our cars. I hopped in with five others in this really sweet old Caddy and away we went. We must have stopped at least five different places for drinks and shots before we reached our final destination. (Is it just me or has anyone else just went out for a drink and ended up foobarred?) The club was packed when we finally arrived, but we managed to find enough places for all of us, though we were scattered out a bit it was nice as there were people to visit and even more to run into. Some of the guys went to get us drinks and us girls we hit the dance floor. I don't know why but there's just something about getting lost in music that I find incredibly appealing. We danced a few songs, fought our way back to the table, slammed a sot, took a few drinks and fought our way back out onto the dance floor, this time with guys in tow. I don't know if it was in the middle of the first song or the second when the guy dancing against me slid something into my hand. I knew the feel of it right away, it was a bullet. Not the kind you fire from a gun with either, it's a vile with a curved top that fits snuggly into your nose and yes it was filled with powder. A cheshire grin appeared on my face as I turned twords him and went down on him. (it's a bump and grind thing) The advantage this gave me was that I while I was down, no one could see me. The first rush was intense, the second and third just sent me into heaven. I swipped my nose swayed my hips back into a standing position, slid the bullet back into his hands and was met with a kiss. This would not have been a problem, but he belonged with one of the girls we were with. This was not good, and I enjoyed it way too much. What began as a innocent night ended up turning into a sordid affair, literally. At first I was like a kiss, no big deal. Then there where hands sliding along my thighs and his body pressed tightly against mine (have I mentioned how unfair I feel this all was, it was an assault on my senses, my very lonley senses.) A part of my brain was struggling for air, with all of the people we were with, surley someone has seen this and even the most naive people could feel the energy between us. The music ended, we broke apart, his fingertips brushing against my ass as he moved away. I fought my way back to the table, searching for my coat. All I knew was that I was hot and just wanted to feel the cool air against my wet skin. I slammed what was left of my drink and pushed my way past endless faces to the door. I'm not sure when or how I got back to my friends apartment (I'm glad it was her's and not mine), but that guy I had been dancing with was who opened the door. The group was considerably smaller, maybe ten people or so. The music was on, but this time it was quieter, though now it was a radio station. I was ushered to the table where I found these insane lines had been cut up. One was mine? But I didn't order this. It's a gift? That line has got to be at least a quarter gram, if you put it in a pile and weighed it. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth? Well, since you put it that way... I think this was possibly one of the moments I am least proud of, I inhaled...all of it. (though it took a couple tries) Remembering at this point is incredibly foggy as we were smoking a blunt too, I think in the end we smoked a few. I don't know when I ended up alone with my guy, but it happened and things happened. I do have to say though it was a lot of fun, especially when his girlfriend joined us... A few hours later we did some more lines...

regret

2006-03-26T08:08:00.000-08:00

There are a lot of things I've done in this life time that I'm not proud of, last night was one of them. I was with friends and we (yes, I fell) were doin some tweak. (It felt so good to feel the surge as my body took in the powder) Truley it all started out as an innocent evening with friends. A few lines, a trip to the bar (a few joints along the way) and home to my bed, or so I thought...

A new day

2006-03-24T08:40:00.000-08:00

I ended my day as I haven't in a long time (semi-sober, I was smokin some weed but that's it). The truth is that not doing drugs is harder than it seems it should be. I sit in class or at work and all I really want to be doing is getting high. Life seems so much easier when I'm high. Right now I struggle to get everything done in a day. I sit here having been to all of my classes yesturday and having been to work last night. I needed to get high, I felt like I was going to explode if I didn't get some teak. I lived, I didn't give in, but I wanted to, I still want to. I don't want to struggle with all of the burdens that I've placed on myself. School work needs to be done, bills need to be paid and in moments I don't care if either happens. I want to stay clean, but I need my fix. I need to know that I can get everything done in a day I need to and without tweak there dosen't seem to be enough time. There's never enough time...

a new idea

2006-03-22T13:44:00.000-08:00

I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't keep striving to better myself and yet (I'm begining think I am an addict, I beginging to think my friends(?) were right) I keep falling down. I sit here smoking a couple of hitters of weed, quite content to not be tweaking, to not be trippin, to not be fucked up (well at least not drug wise) beyond reason or comprehension. Before I hit the bathroom wall I couldn't even achieve an hour or two without a line, I am doing better. I'm trying to keep my use of heavy drugs (powders, liquids etc etc) to my time, not when I need to go to work (this is a drag as powders made work go by way faster than it goes by now) or when I need to go to class. This is my newest idea, I am attempting responsibility. We'll see how it goes...

a rough morning...well day

2006-03-21T16:18:00.000-08:00

Sleep was blissful in its tranquillity... I awoke to a new day, I snuggled with my cat and did the stupidist thing I could think of. I stood up. My entire world began to spin out of control. I sat back down. (I'm not totally stupid, I know black spots mean to sit down) I held my head in my hands and seriously contemplated simply passing out, but I could never get off that easy. The back of my head, right at the base where your neck and skull attach, began to ache. The dull throb spread like fingertips toward my forehead, my scalp tingling as they went... a deep and forboding sense of nausea began to creep into my already overwhelmed senses. I wanted to die and not video game, get to try again die, but die, dead, never comin' back, passing into the summerland kinda dead, ya know? I managed to crawl (I have rug burn to prove it) to the bathroom. There I sat and dry heaved (I can't remember the last thing I ate) until my ribs began to ache with every lurch. I laid down and I cried. (This only made the headache worse) After picking myself up and actually onto my feet, I shuffled down the hallway. I searched the cupboard for the cure all to all stomach ails, soda crackers. Then I opened up the fridge and upon looking (I had to admire the glow) decided an extremely cold glass of water would be great. I padded to the couch, turned on the tv, slowly munched some soda crackers, sipped some water (decided to let it warm up a bit, as it made me queezy), took a darvaset and faded in and out watching tv for most of the day...I missed class...I called in sick to work...this is not good.

A very long day

2006-03-18T16:18:00.000-08:00

I discovered many things over the past day or so. The biggest was how much dirt had accumulated in my appartment. A bit after my last post a friend stopped in, it was good. The problem began from there as I turned (now completley wide awake) and stared at my home. I found facing me the havok of the past three weeks, complete with half empty boxes of lo mein. (Mind you this is about all my stomach was willing to handle) It was disgusting...I found dirt I didn't think could possibly exist. I began by simply picking things up (no biggie right...) I'm not sure what exactly the first distraction was, but I do recall the bathroom taking about two hours to complete. (It's not that big) I vividly recall staring at the floor with a toothbrush (in places) in hand, going around the toilet and anything else that could be gone around. By the time it was all complete it was so bright it hurt the eyes to look at it. When I was finally done there my attention turned back to the project of trash collection. This lead me to the dimise of my loving room, just looking at it hurt. There were blankets crumpled up on the couch, this lead me to start to fold them, which lead to picking up the cusions, which ultimatly lead to me pulling out the vacuum... (This may sound like a normal day of cleaning, but one must remember that something as simple as a single cat hair will create an ultimate obsession with all of the hair in the house.) I vacummed the living room floor on my hands and knees. Then I moved the furniture...all of it. Somewhere, somehow I became distracted by the kitchen. ( I still haven't finished the living room yet) There was yuck and more yuck. (I think it just may have seemed this way to me) I drew a hot sinkful of suddsy water and plunged my hands in, got distracted by the bubbles for a bit (It was awhile, but it wasn't like I was looking at a clock) and then remembered the task at hand. The dishes, but oh look a ketchup bottle that needs to go in the fridge... The fridge, I think there may have been things in there that had reached the point of taking up residence and hey look, that shelf could really use to be wiped down. I put the ketchup back onto the counter and begin emptying the shelves, and then the door and hey look below the drawer is a cat hair (have I mentioned my black fluffball I have aquired named Bast?) I can't begin to count the minutes spent in the depts of the fridge. Though shortly after I got it back together I discovered the freezer and well, you can guess how that went. By the time all was said and done I discovered my sink had no more bubbles and was cold. Only one thing to do, empty it and fill it again. Oh and yes I got distracted by the bubbles once again... Then I did the dishes and got distracted again with the filling of the third sinkful of dishes. After the washing and the drying and the putting away I started to wipe down the counters, where guess what I found? Yeap, hair. Have I mentioned my obssesed hatred with hair? Everything was moved, everything wiped down. The floor was completed on hands and knees. I even pulled everything out of the cupboards and wiped the insides down. I completed the kitchen. Which lead to finishing the living room and my bedroom. I think it was about half way through my bedroom when I realized that I needed to be to work in a little less than an hour. Enough time to get ready (add in clothing stress) and fly out the door to work. Oh and don't forget the lines I did on the way out the door. Work was, well work. I stocked, I checked, I acted as sober as possible when 'on the floor'. I came home, relished in the warmth and wetness of a shower, smoked this joint that I had rolled sometime well on cigarette/weed/line break the night before, sat down before my screen and decided to share my very much longer than I had ever intended day. (and yes I skipped a lot, but those are other tales for other times) I will say that a soft pillow and the warmth of my blankets sounds so very delicious...

lost (well, I was)

2006-03-16T03:31:00.000-08:00

I got lost...as a matter of fact I just (literally) crawled in the door. I often forget how tweaking really makes time go by at an unusually rapid pace. I also forget how often, when I don't have a screaming responsibility (work, school), I lose myself into my own little world. It's a really good thing that I have friends to help me home and drop me off on my doorstep. Really these last two days are an intreaguing tale, that will have to wait until I become coherent again...which may be a day or two as the last day was longer than it may have appeared. (and it didn't even come with a warning label: Warning this day may be longer than it should be...why can't life come with warning labels?)

can't do this

2006-03-13T22:28:00.000-08:00

I can't do this, I'm exhausted. I was up late, really late. I worked really early. Needless to say even with a few bumps work was longer than it should have been... Can you really see pink elephants if you've been up to long?

staring out my window (sorta)

2006-03-12T20:23:00.000-08:00

I managed to get a bit of sleep last night, but my morning bump set me about my day quite nicely. I got up, went to work, got off about three. Met up with some friends, did a few lines along the path to tonight. So here I sit, once again staring out the window... I wonder if I'll live like this forever, I hope I do. Then again there's a part of me that hope's I don't. I don't know I'm lost. Lost within myself were it seems no one can find me, where no one cares to find me. I want so many things and I can't schieve any of them... I used to dream, but latley the dreams have stopped coming. I was supposed to be starting this great adventure (life on my own) and I have nothing... nobody... I can't even manage to keep plants alive... Why do I do this to myself? What fun is it to become a prisoner of your own mind? I should have stayed with my friends, I should have just stayed all night long as don't know how long this high is going to last... This is what I get for trying to be responsible...

wading through

2006-03-11T16:22:00.000-08:00

Here's the deal, I like to be high. I like to be high so much that I stopped by my dealer's on the way to work today. (only a few lines and never while actually at work) Mind you I work in a department store, in a department all by myself. The great thing about this is that my boss loves me to death because of all the shit that I get done in a shift. I love it because hardly anyone shops in the Home Fashions department very much. On a busy night I get maybe three customer's. (and they usually don't have anything from my department) Otherwise I pass the time blissfully putting together displays and stocking shelves. Added bonus is that they work around my school schedule. I think I've come to the conclusion that one must be a productive addict, just dangle your feet off the end of the dock into the water kind of thing. Maybe wading on occasion, but never actually diving in and going under. I don't really miss the constant fog it seems that I have been walking through for so long, but I'm not able, not willing to completley let go...

another day

2006-03-10T13:03:00.000-08:00

I am pleased to report that the mirror laid untouched for a time yesterday, though not all day. I stayed up late, but not all night and I tried to remember to eat something besides the toast. It was a good day, I wasn't so out of it that I only half heard what was going on around me because of the stuppor that I was in. I needed enough to help me function, to help me think.

the next morning (well, for me)

2006-03-09T08:52:00.000-08:00

I think that I have slept for to long...I dosed off shortly after my last post. I woke up about an hour ago. Don't ask me the time, it would require actually being able to comprehend a clock. Not that you want to know, but I showered (I think I forget how good the water feels...) actually ate breakfast (well, toast anyway) and managed to keep it all down. (thank god for weed, it quells the nausea) I live in a different world when my body is 'clean', I think in different patterns (none of which make sense to anyone but me I'm sure) it's strange. I sit with a cup of steaming Earl Grey (honey and lemon, yummm) looking over my computer, wondering about the things I choose to do to myself. Knowing the sweet alure, the tantalizing tingle of excitement at the thought of picking up my mirror. (I know there's enough to get high, I've already cut it. It's amazing what you find when everyone leaves) But I wonder why I think I need this seduction...

ramblings of an insomniac (of sorts)

2006-03-07T07:46:00.001-08:00

No one will ever understand that I need my release. How am I supposed to fit everything in, in only twenty-four hours? Work, school and play, I need to play it's what keeps me going. Either that or it's what calms me down. I don't know. Maybe I should eat, maybe I should sleep. I know there are people out there who don't live like this. People tell me that I shouldn't live like this... But if they knew how much it hurts both physically and emotionally to stop. I'm finally happy with myself, in a way. People used to stare and make fun of me because I was fat. Now it seems I suffer an almost equal taunting because I'm too skinny, my skin has erupted with holes and breakouts. My friends used to ask what diet plan I was on. You should have seen their faces when I told them I was doing it on my own. I never said it was healthy and no I'm probably not technically doing this on my own. But I can finally go shopping in any section of a store that I want, I've never been able to do that before. I always had to go to 'special' stores for fat people. I'm tired of lying to my parents, but they'll never understand. Maybe I'll just curl up in the corner and die (truth is I am out of everything except a few joints all of my other junk has been consumed into the depths of my body). My mind tweeks at that thought, but I'm not a junkie, I can stop doing powders (Angel Dust, Coke, Glass...never touched Heroin)... I quit drinking, (a shot would be nice right now though) I quit trippin', (shrooms and acid) (God I miss that, well the good trips anyway) I don't take buttons anymore, though I do still smoke pot. I quit powders once already, It won't be that big of a deal and who says I have to quit?

2006-03-07T07:46:00.000-08:00

I've seen the sun rise to many times in the days that have passed. I can't think or maybe I think to much. Thoughts run through my head in endless streams. I can't seem to stop them. My mom called last night, I made the same excuses I have been making for months when she asks why my grades are slipping and why I don't sound 'normal'.

a quick drop in

2006-03-05T16:22:00.000-08:00

I cant begin to express the tiem that I have been haivng. Its been a long day or two... how long has it been? oh well I finally made it home and I thought that I would drop a quick line to well, me I guess... ooohhhh the door, yeah!!!!!!!

good company

2006-03-03T17:21:00.000-08:00

One of my girls stopped by to see me today. We sat around doin lines and just shootin the shit about life and how much people suck. It felt good to laugh, to be in the company of a real friend. I shared with her the tale of going out and she agreed that I don't need people who are just going to criticise everything I do and the choices I make. She invited me to go to a party with her tonight, and I think I'll go. I often forget how good it can feel to be in the company of people who accept who you are and the things that you do...

a different kind of night

2006-03-02T19:50:00.000-08:00

I did something tonight I haven't done in a long time. I went out. Out to the bar with a group of friends. I could see their side glances at me, them whispering behind my back. Talking about how much I've gone down hill, how terrible I look. They have no clue, no idea about what I do. They offer their judgements of me, without trying to see that I am ok, I am happy. Just because I don't conform to their world of what's right and what's wrong. What's the difference between them going out every night and getting totally sloshed and me doing Meth? It's my drug of choice...

I left the bar feeling hurt and a bit disgruntled. These people that I had viewed as my friends are just hyppocrites. Mean and vindictive hippocrites, they sit on the side and make judgements about things they don't understand... They don't even have the common courtsey to talk about me when I'm not there. They think the noise will cover what they say... This only confirms my suspicions that they are trying to change me, who I am because they think what I do is wrong. They know nothing, they don't know how good I finally feel about myself. Meth allows me the ability to forget, the things I've done, the choices I've made, the person that I have become. I like to forget, I like not having to feel...to not have to care about anyone, or anything

A moment for myself

2006-02-28T19:57:00.000-08:00

I couldn't bring myself to face the world today. I decided instead to continue putting my puzzle together that I started this morning...at three am. It's amazing how my fingers shake, yet they still seem to find the perfect piece in record time. That's the nice thing about Meth, I actually have time to do something for myself...

anticipation

2006-02-27T22:52:00.000-08:00

I ran out today...it was not good. I called my dealer about two in the afternoon, he told me an hour tops and he could hook me up. I lined up the last two small rails I had and sat down to wait. An hour went by, two hours, three hours, I was out...where was he? I called, no answer. It was agony waiting, lying on the couch just wanting a fix. I finally got up and start to look through all of my stuff, there had to be a little bit left in the house somewhere...Maybe along the sides of the mirror I can scrape enough out. Four hours and I started to shakeand nausea began to set in. By the fifth hour I was curled up on the couch, in the fetal position with a thin layer of sweat building all over my body. I lost track of time, fading in and out of restless, fittful sleep. A knock at my door startled me awake, the green glow of the clock told me it was ten thirty five. I slid off the couch onto my feet and shuffled to the door (my head felt like it was going to explode). My dealer stood there looking at me as I stood in the doorway and told him to come in.

I thought I was going to explode with antisipation as I waited for him to give me my shit... Finally he went to hand it to me, but just before he dropped it in my open, waiting palm, he told me that I didn't look so hot (yeah right, he deals dope, he doesn't care about me). I didn't even wait for him to leave as began to chop up the beautiful crystals. I got just enough done for a single line and inhaled. I cleared my nasal passeges and continued cutting. I looked up and saw my dealer shaking his head, then he turned and left. The door clicked as he shut it and a sudden rush swept through my body. I had what I needed. I did up another line, got up walked to the door and turned the dead bolt...

A walk through the woods

2006-02-26T22:46:00.000-08:00

A friend knocked on my door today and asked if I wanted to get out of my unnaturally dark apartment, to search for fresh air. Just opening the door almost killed me, the sunlight was overwhelming with its brightness. I figured what the hell, why not. I changed clothes (I hadn't showered in a few days, but I figured deoderant, parfume and new clothes would be enough (more effort than I've put into myself in weeks, possibly months...(hey what day is it anyway? ) I also put on my blackest tint sunglasses. cuz bright light sucks. I told her I'd be right out, as I slipped into the bathroom for a minute. I cut three nice size rails quick, inhaled, looked in the mirror, fluffed my hair and headed back to the living room.

I asked what she had in mind as I slid into the passengers seat of the car. She said she thought we could go out to the State Park just outside of town and just walk and talk. (It was here I started to get a bit nervous, about what I wasn't sure) As we drove I realized how glad I was that she was driving as I just wanted to glaze over and chain smoke. We got out of the car, crossed the road and set off at a leisurely pace down the path.

At first we just talked back and forth about nothing of any consequence. A little over half way she looked at me and told me that I looked like shit. I told her I didn't know what she was trying to say. She told me I was full of shit and that all I had to do was look in the mirror at myself, truly look and I would know what she was saying. I argued back that she was just afraid to get to the point. She lashed back with me looking like shit was the point, the bags under my eye's, my sudden drop in weight, the small scabs that she saw whenever I pulled my sleeves up, (long sleeve shirts are nice I tell you) and the fact that I smelled like I hadn't showered in a week (ok maybe two, but I was busy) were clear indications that something was up. I told her I was just busy and didn't notice the time passing between shower's and sleep is something I do in spurts. (also because I am busy, this is not a lie) Concern came into her voice (It reminded me of the dentist a little, but a very little) and she paused in the middle of the path to look me square in the eyes and tell me she was concerned. She pointed out that I'm hardly ever in class anymore and even when I am it doesn't seem like I'm there. I stood quietly glancing at her, but mostly following the ants as they moved along the ground with my eyes. For just a moment a thought flashed through my head that maybe it was the drugs...but how could something that makes me feel so free, so good be so bad? I looked up at her with a soft smile on my lips and assured her that it was just me being busy, not enough time in the day, things of that nature. We walked the rest of the way in silence, her in her world me in mine. I slid back into the passenger seat of her car and softly sang along to the radio and we passed through the streets to my building (if you sing you can't talk). The silence wasn't uncomfortable, but there was a strain in the air. As she put the car into park she looked at me one more time, told me if I needed anything to call. (yeah right, like she had any good hook-ups) I was fine up until this point when she grabbed me; hugged me tight; kissed me on the cheek;whispered that she loved me, even if I didn't believe her; kissed me on the other cheek and pulled away. There was a single tear drop sliding gently down her cheek... I got home (grateful to be back in the darkened bliss) turned on some Ozzy and sat on my couch. I looked out my window (the things in the shadows almost got in last night, but I was to quick for them) and attempted to think about something different, something that would take away the nagging at the back of my brain...something that would make on single tear disappear from my memory...I reached for the mirror and inhaled.

something in the shadows

2006-02-25T23:29:00.000-08:00

I know I've mentioned them before, the things in the shadows outside my window... I sit staring at them, seeing them move out of the corner of my eye. I wonder what they want from me...where their going to try and take me. There did you see it? Just on the other side of that tree? Deep in the darkness, dancing in the shadows... Did I lock the door? Wait I don't know about the windows...I need to check...but their moving again in the shadows... I slide my hand across my desk to where my mirror sits, Can't sleep or they'll find a way in...

a moment

2006-02-24T22:56:00.000-08:00

I can't stop twitching...I try and do things and I shake...my hands won't quit shaking...I've written on so many pieces of paper that my fingers are bruised...I don't remember...anything, past this post...hang on let me grab my mirror...it'll all be ok...

which day is it anway?

2006-02-23T18:48:00.000-08:00

I'm confused or maybe just lost. I don't have any clue what day it is. Everything started out normal, a few rails, grabbed my books and left out the door. It was when I got to my first class of the day that I began to realize something was amiss...the door was locked and the lights were out, maybe the professor was ill? I went to the office to check. I walked in and asked my question, the girl behind the desk looked at me funny and laughed. I was confused...(to say the least) When she had regained her composure (to a point) she told me that my class met on Tuesdays...It was Thursday. Embaressed I backed out of the office. Thoughts raced through my mind...how did I screw this up? Oh well, since I didn't have class I decided to retire to my room and the tranquility of the 'gifts' waiting there. The one thing I could count on, the one thing I didn't screw up.

a little dose of reality

2006-02-21T21:05:00.000-08:00

I had a dentist appointment today. (yeah, even tweaking balls) I figured, no big deal, how is my dentist going to know that I'm out of my right mind? Well, I found out...not that he really knew I was flyin at that exact moment. He did sit down beside me, on his little swivel stool, he spoke with what seemed great care and concern... He asked me what I had been doing that would make my teeth start to decay so fast. I mumbled that I didn't know. I'm an average college student, I consume massive amounts of pizza and soda. (well, the pizza depends on whether or not I actually remember to eat anything at all, but the soda...any true tweaker will tell you, there's nothin like a bit of caffeine to boost your day) I blamed anything I could instead of telling him the true answer. His eyes looked sad as he told me that he had known me since I was a child and my rapid tooth decay didn't make sense. I simply shrugged, my eyes glued to the floor...Who is he anyway, pretending to be so concerned about me? The truth is I'm the only one who cares for me...so what difference does it make if I decide to get a bump every now and then? It's my life.

Sleep

2006-02-20T20:45:00.000-08:00

Sleep finally found its way into my life, fifteen hours of nothing, no dreams, no thoughts. I awoke with a start and immediatley reached for my mirror...I don't know what I'm doing. After a good sized rail I sat in front of my computer, wondering (with a mind refreshed) why anyone would want to lead a life without being high. Why would anyone pass up the opportunity to feel such a beautiful release? To function at a higher level? To be able to work longer and harder than the next guy. Isn't that what it's all about, the rat race? Getting ahead, being better than the next guy. I get so much done, my papers seem to write themselves, I don't even notice when time passes me by while reading. I don't have to worry about having enough hours in the day, and I'm not really hurting anyone am I?

back of my eyelids

2006-02-18T21:32:00.000-08:00

It's been so long since I've seen the back of my eyelids...I wonder at times if I ever will again. There is madness within the bliss I have found and it's eating at my soul...

waiting for salvation

2006-02-17T23:27:00.000-08:00

I'm waiting for salvation from the crumb corner blues...I just need him to get here. My skin has been crawling, literally, it seems to be sliding over my fingertips even as I write... I just need to see if there is any bit left on the mirror... maybe I can manage a line out of what is left...I just need him to get here. What's that? Out there in the dark...can't you see it moving? There's something there...please just let him get here, it's been twenty minutes since he said he was on his way. I want to think straight, Just a bit to help me think straight...

still awake

2006-02-16T20:17:00.000-08:00

I'm still awake and I stare over my screen, watching the things in the shadows, the things that are out there trying to get in... My window offers me a look into the world at large where in the shadows hide the people who will try to take this bliss away... I reach over and pick up the mirror, three rails lay neatly waiting...waiting for me to take them into myself, so they can explode into my being and release me from my fears... I can't resist them... So I inhale and I stare out the window, waiting for the things to come and get me...

what a day it was...

2006-02-15T13:17:00.000-08:00

The truth is that shortly after I posted the last post a friend stopped by, she was on her way to class and was wondering if she could borrow my razor and mirror. Sure, as I had just done three rails; one can never deny a friend in need - and hey she usually shares...bonus for me! I think it was roughly 6 o'clock pm before either of us realized that we had both completley missed class. We made a command decision at this point (well as much of one as we could), we called her dealer, finished off what was left (I lost track of the number of rails awhile ago), and went to meet him. I went in with her (this was a first), we sat in a dingy, dark living room on a worn and tattered couch. The guy smelled beyond belief and I couldn't help but notice the holes that covered his arms and face, this is irrelevent as all I really cared about was the package in his hand. My friend and I went in together, an eight-ball all around. I figured, hey grab it and lets go, her dealer had other plans...He pulled out his personal and started to break up the beautiful crystals that slid from the bag. There's just something about the way glass looks... anyways, he filled his glass pipe and he passed it around, again and again and again. I'm not sure when my friend decided to leave, but she grabbed my arm and whispered in my ear that we needed to go. We made our niceities and walked out the door. As we crawled into the car she started to giggle...we must have sat there for at least half an hour, laughing until tears streamed down our cheeks and our sides hurt. I don't have a clue of the time, but we finished off the night by meeting a few friends out for drinks (and shots and lines and blunts and, well just and). Needless to say recalling the events that followed is a foggy experience at best, but I know that I still haven't slept and I'm not sure I intend to...(I'll sleep when I'm dead and even then I'm not sure)

falling down

2006-02-14T07:55:00.000-08:00

I collected myself off of the bathroom floor this morning...(yes I slept there) I felt like a semi-truck had driven through my apartment and ran me over. I walked out into my living room, holding my head (and looking for something to spit in as my lungs and throat felt a need to purge themselves of the substance that covered them) I looked on the table and there lay my salvation; a small corner of a baggie tied off on top...my heart raced there was still some left. More than I thought actually as I lined the rails up. I leaned over, straw in hand, and wondered if this was the right thing to do (it was a small short thought) and then I inhaled. The burn isn't even an issue of pain anymore, it's more like a sweet announcement, that soon I will no longer feel or think... I love that, a promise of certain bliss... I never have adjusted though to the taste of the 'slide' going down the back of my throat...

a look in the mirror

2006-02-13T08:03:00.000-08:00

I awoke this morning, looked in the mirror and found the person staring back at me unrecognizable. Her sunken cheeks and eyes, the breakout that had consumed my entire body. I ran my fingers through my hair and when I looked I found clumps threaded into my fingers...I started to cry...what had I become? I crashed into the wall behind me and slowly sank, becoming a wrecked pile of human flesh upon the bathroom floor... I don't know how I got here... I don't know how to get out...