WOKE UP SO DEATHLY-DULL THIS AFTERNOON (yes, that late) that I could not get my head around three of the simplest chores. Eventually I got round to the first of them: hair-washing, which I did in one of the two sinks in my room. The water went a gratifying shade of black; that's all I can say. The second chore involved gorcery shopping. Being broke didn't matter as I had vouchers. I did remember the chocolate Nesquik and deodorant.
Whatever task #3 was I never shall know; it never got done (or else my memory is even worse than I thought).
Now,as midnight approaches or has passed I ponder the imponderable ... Okay this is what I'm wondering: how am I going to feel better when I give up heroin, the only joy in life I have?
No wonder I feel down. My life is rack and ruin. I'm seeing my Mum on Sunday and stressing already about coming up with an entire outfit free of ciggie-burns and bloodstains.
Well I have a good book to read. As I said ysterday, it surprised me that I found it so engaging especially on the face of it with four such lacklustre characters with such dull lives. If you want to know what grabbed me, there you have it. They all somehow remind me of myself!!!
Royals and rugby
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IVY my phone is dead I need to get a new battery at least and this I can only do next week. Please bear with me till then ...
So I am reading your post here and thinking to myself that based only on your funny description the book you are reading sounds like Barbara Pym. When I used to not be able to breath unless I was reading some book or another, I discovered her while I was living in NYC and visiting a friend out in Jersey. I perused his library of novels and became hooked on her after reading one of her books from his collection. I don't remember what it was about—I never do—but I do remember that I loved the cadence in her writing. It had this unique pace to it. All she seem to write about was different slices of life and not particularly grand nor tragic slices. She is the only author I can say I ever enjoyed because I liked the way she wrote but was indifferent about the story. It IS about how she portrays the characters—they seemed familiar yet about someone I didn't know who lived in a country I was not familiar with... at least not the kind of familiarity derived from one of her books. The stories all started from somewhere and just seemed to end somewhere else with no hint the story or book was over with except for the few pages left to turn.
I was totally wowed by that. Now that I have read on and it is, in deed, Barbara Pym you are reading, i am stunned.Not too long ago the coincidence would have made me edgy. Now it makes me feel connected.
You go boy. Ms Pymn. My take on her writing inspired the title of my now garaged blog, Life Sliced Thin, Stories from the more visceral side of life. It's a catchy title, no? I just can't be spending all my time writing about that crap any more.
Stay the you that you are, my friend.
WS
I don't know gled...I don't think heroin sounds like a joy in your life. I think it's sucking the joy out of your life, but maybe you just can't see that right now. I honestly think you'll rediscover true joy (in little things) if you get off it. But wtf do I know? I just think it's wearing you down that's all.
You'll find joy in living without heroin, if you look for it. Good friends are a geat asset on that journey. Keep them close.
hello dear, haven't visit you for some time...come on, heroin is not your friend, or at least a bad one...you're worth more than that...hold on...
take care
love from Mousie
how is your mousey?
I agree with Debs; I know you feel that heroin is "keeping" the joy in your life...but if you could only get off it....there are so many other less hamful joys that you will have the time and energy to pursue.
((hugs))
Rx
ciao
You're going to feel better because you'll actually be able to *feel* something other than medicated. You can do it.
I agree with other commentors here, that there is life after Heroin, but life *with* the drug contains a certain joy which is difficult to explain to someone who hasn't used.
Gledwood, the post reminds me of a André Malraux quote about opium: "Opium teaches only one thing, which is that aside
from physical suffering, there is nothing real."
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