Friday not Sky High Day

IT'S ABOUT A QUARTER TO NINE NOW... maybe I shouldn't have been quite so negative in the previous post ... but hey, I have been in a famously sour mood for the last month.

My "conjuring trick" very nearly failed to materialize anything of worth earlier. Then I flounced my magic hankie once more... puff of smoke... hey presto!... £15 appears in my hand. I took this to a flat where I exchanged £10 for a tiny-looking heroin bag. The other £5 I spent on food. The days are gone when I donate my every last penny to the "cause". The heroin was supposedly strong (I can vouch that I tasted it last night.) If it had been cut, it would appear a lighter shade of orange in the works (coloured cut is a sophisticated process beyond the ordinary dealer's reach). I might add for clarity that our gear is always "brown" meaning from peachy-"flesh" (white skin) colour through concrete/wall plaster pine/blond brown to dark muscovado. Usually it's at the lighter end of the scale. A greyish light mud-coloured substance not unlike dried mud. But quite concrete coloured. When you cook it up (adding citric acid to liberate the drugs) the resulting solution is usually a far richer brandy-brown than the powder would appear to produce. So I'm pretty sure the drugs are indeed the same. Just my useless body isn't tolerating them... correction is tolerating them too well. My tolerance to heroin has always been sky-high. I'm like an opiate-sponge. Cocaine... initially I seem to be able to use more than most other people. But very quickly I come to a point where a metaphorical giant power-swich is flicked in my head to ON. And stays ON for a long while afterwards. So all in all I'd say I cannot tolerate cocaine or crack because I'm far more prone to the negative effects (including florid voice-hearing paranoia) than most people I know. Last time I binged big-style on that ... well I could easily have been sectioned if only a doctor had got to me. I was in one hell of a state. Nearly electrocuted myself. The devil was hissing at me in one corner of the room. From another, secret cameras were filming my every move. I got quickly fed up of wearing no clothes to "give them an eyeful" and took to dismantling plugs/etc with a small screwdriver. To prize out their evil electronic monitoring eyes. And very nearly electrocuted myself. What am I blabbering about here???

Okay well back to today, someone lent me £15 (my ONE possible source of loans). Dealer was there on time. After an unremittingly bleak day I felt more of a lift from scoring than the drugs actually gave me. All heroin does (generally) is make me feel no different whatsoever for taking it. Or possibly makes me dull and sleepy. A not worth paying lots of money for feeling. Not even as nice as a sleeping pill (and weaker). So I question why I bother using at all, I really do. Okay I'm not up for rabbiting on so I'll continue tomorrow....