IT'S NOW NEARLY 3 in the morning. I slept properly for the first time in days on end. I spent all day fast asleep and got up at 1am. I couldn't sleep whenever it was before I went to bed. Every time I read something (especially written by me) I howled with laughter. Then laughed some more.My "school report" (below) by the way, comes from a Victorian mental asylum. I just altered the words patient for pupil, hospital for school and physician for teacher and so on. The hilarious stuff is exactly as it was penned by Emil Kraepelin, the author.
So I didn't buy any bouncy balls yesterday. When the urge to bounce hit me full on it was still 5am.
O man I ended up on the streets yesterday didn't I. Running round in circles, bouncing bouncy balls and laughing hysterically. Every time I laughed I felt higher and higher. Then I laughed a bit more. I drank a can of cyder but only for the taste. People sometimes think I'm drunk when I'm like that, but alcohol has never made me behave the way an Elevated Mood might do. I felt Elevated and Paranoid last night. I'm still not depressed, so it's all good. I keep hearing words in my ears when I'm laughing. They make me laugh even more. I know that's probably not good but ~ well who gives a shyte.
I'm watching that film The Good Girl with Jennifer Anniston, Jake Gyllenhaal and the baked potato faced man who plays one of the porno stars in Boogie Nights. My favourite character in The Good Girl is Cheryl the PA system operator at Retail Rodeo superstore who declares: a special offer on drain cleaner, isle 3. "Ladies, shove something clean and new up your filthy pipes and turn it around," o how I laughed and laughed at that one.
Anna Grace is in a giant piss with me I'm sure. Her book is like food at a really posh restaurant. Very good but just not enough of it. Now she hates me for being frank with her. Or she's out of her head on Colombian heroin. Or she's gone too depressed to read or write. Or a million other things. But my head tells me it's GOT to be all about me me MEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!
Not a lot else to talk about as I've only been awake for 3 hours or so. I've so far watched the Good Girl twice only today. Twice yesterday though I was too busy laughing at random things to follow it. And I've run out of cup a soups. The chicke and vegetable ones with croutons. O come back to me you crunchy croutons. I could go out and buy ONE packet for £1.29 from my local shop. Or 2 yummy packets for £1.50 when Morrisons opens tomorrow morning. O decisions decisions. Fuck it, I'll get the one NOW. Instant gratification. That's me.
Talking of which: no heroin!
Only had a £10 bag the other day when I was hanging round that bouncy ball shop. The bouncy ball shop is one minute from Heroin Corner you see. Actually what am I saying, there are two bouncy ball shops at two heroin corners. See bouncy balls and heroin must have some connection... what could it be?
Well I'll leave YOU to ponder that one as I can't be bothered. Night night all you boring night sleepers. See ya later. And good afternoon to everyone in Australia.
HI, I AM! i saw your info on femarol vein injection. It worked for 1st time in ages!
ReplyDeletehang on what information where? you mean that link?
ReplyDeletei had a good stab a while ago, but I used a 2 ml with an orange needle (too scared of the blue one). Anyway if I could get it with an orange why cause more damage with a blue one, that's what I say
anyway I stuck the fucking thing in right to the hilt, nothing
didn't want to shift further and further out i'm just too pussy to inject there i wanna stop anyway but congratulations :-)
funny you say that as iv always used a small orange until i couldnt get it any more on either side which was about 5yrs ago then after reading your link i drew up a 50ml/1ml amp with 4 dexadrine added in a 10ml barrel & long blue and BINGO!
ReplyDeletewhere do you get the amps from?
ReplyDeleteyou know practically every day I collect my juice i fantasize that istead of a big bottle of green CRAP it was a little box with a row of beautiful amps
best of all dry amps, but methadone amps would do, anything but that horrible juice
to be honest i can't believe i'm so weak i actually drink the stuff, sometimes i think i'd be far happier back on gear properly, know what i mean
i go to a private Dr for my script every 2 weeks. Take it from me, you are doing the right thing by trying to do as less of the gear as poss & just sticking to your green. I do know what your saying though as the fix is such a big part of being a user hence the reason i went onto amps rather than juice. I can now have a much more stable life rather than running around night & day trying to sort out money then hoping that the gear will be ok then going through the whole routine again! and at least i can enjoy the rush from a fix of meth & enjoy it rather than just drinking it & knowing i aint getting nothing out of it.
ReplyDelete2 serves of cup a soup (potato and leek) for $1.59 at our local supermarket at the moment. It was on special from some other price, but Morrisons sounds quite expensive. Is that a discount or boutique supermarket?
ReplyDeleteJW: Yeah drinking methadone is a waste of time, I don't know why they insist on the ineffectual oral form, it's crap. I might try and get an amps script of my own.......
ReplyDeleteSpindrift: you get 2x packets of 4 sachets of Batchelor's or 3x packs of Morrisons own (also 4 sachets a pack). It's well worth paying extra for the Batchelors' it's got twice as many croutons and is less watery.
Er not sure you should be exchanging your injecting techniques here if you're trying to kick the gear? Glad you're feeling a little up and getting outside, shame you're hanging around heroin corner tho. Go to a park and bounce.
ReplyDeleteThere's a park right by heroin corner where I bounce away. I'm sure the dealer thinks I'm really cool there with my sparkly bouncy ball. Which is really in reserve for the lunatic asylum.
ReplyDeleteYeah I just can't get it together not to ever use heroin. I can do a day or two or even three without it without climbing the walls the way I used to... but ukh! ~ life is so BORING without it.
Also it USED to have a pronounced mood stabilizing effect that it doesn't seem to have. One reason I avoided it before was I wanted to be manic!!!
I don't know whether I'm up down left or right at the moment. I kind of feel irritable then high then tired. Which HAS meant my mood was elevating itself in the past but I wouldn't dare wish for that now. Fucking moods. Always changing. I just want to feel high for ever.
I think this post for me is really insightful. You say that life is boring without heroin, that in the past you have wanted to be manic and that you want to feel high for ever. I have encountered you saying this before but this is so well laid out. I like that you have played your moods as a central theme. However, I think the part that I love most of all is your 'sparkly bouncy ball'. I want one:o) Hope you are well. Safe journey, Paul
ReplyDeleteYeah I hate being down and dull dull dull I can't stand it. It's like living life as a bird with clipped wings.
ReplyDeleteI wanna be high, man! Heroin is only a substitute high, I prefer the real thing (happiness)... Know what I mean :-)
What Baino said.
ReplyDeleteI'm trying to find happiness, trying. 'They say you can't buy love, right, I just saw some guy outside, reckons he's selling it for 30 bucks a piece.' (Horrorshow) What is the drug that can give you happiness? I notice you've done it again though, great insight, you've written that you want to be high and happy in the same sentence. Even more concise. I think it was Aristotle said that happiness couldn't be found in pleasure. It could only be found within actvity for the soul, not pursuit, and that the person is so into what they are doing that they don't actually notice they are happy, and if they do they're not in it, but yes, happiness, I agree. The wings clipped metaphor, is a rough image, but I'm sure it won't always be like this Gledwood. You have great narrative and create some great imagery. Safe journey, Paul:o)
ReplyDeleteAkelamalu: aye
ReplyDeleteSpin: happiness can't be found in pleasure? how depressing is that. I always knew it, just don't like hearing it!!
maybe happiness is the abscence of unhappiness. i was happy as a child before my parents divorced but after that i never was truly happy again. i'm not saying i was profoundly miserable all the time, i just lost something a long time ago and never got it back.
actually the only time i feel a tinge of it is when i feel manic, because that reminds me of being a child, being very excited about being allowed to play on the field on the first day of summer, it's that kind of feeling. people sometimes compare it to drugs, (and i did) but i never really felt "excited" off coke. what do people do on coke 95% of the time? make every effort to remain cool and not to look excited at all!!!!! that's why i loved ecstasy, because I only ever enjoyed taking it at dance parties where you had a perfect excuse to go totally with the flow by dancing with the music, hence expressing the feeling of joy. but in other druggie circles i often found the atmosphere somewhat oppressive. i knew people who smoked in crackhouses but the atmosphere in most of them was positively stygian: really nasty. i remember being in one with a crack-whore on whom the tables had been turned, as they often are. one of the big black guys who was going out to get more crack tossed his phone over and said "look after this till i get back". this girl, who looked like she'd been there too long yet had nowhere else to go back to, rolled her eyes and muttered "as if i have any choice" and i glanced at the deadhead who had brought me into this gloomy room and said "let's get out of here" i remember running outside, the whoosh of fresh air into my lungs was better than any crack.
no i never found a drug that ever brought happiness. originally i wasn't looking for happiness through drugs but experience. i also had a very hippified idea that i might "find God" ... and who did i find? not God but the devil. I actually had conversations with demons when I was out of it more than once. They were a bit one-sided. Lots of intimidation from the evil spirit and me not having any of it. Well those days are over, thank God. I can't use psychedelics: anything that makes anyone hallucinate makes me trip a LOT. I can't do uppers: they cause havoc with my moods and make me para. Cannabis is the worst drug of all for me. Not one single pleasant effect, just outright paranoia. Heroin like I said was only a substitute: as we all know, it's a drug for people who have given up on life, who aren't expecting anything much except anaesthesia.
The one drug that brought anything approaching true joy was Ecstasy. I felt absolutely amazing on E. First time I ever took it I had the lightbulb moment where I realized: so THIS is why people take drugs!
BLOODY COMMENT BOX RAN OUT OF ROOM!
ReplyDeleteAND THE RANT CONTINUES:~~~~~~~
But even that ended in tears literally. I remember the day I realized I wasn't the only one lying in bed crying come Monday morning, totally unready to face the world, totally alone. In the end it started disagreeing with me vehemently. Rather than just wearing off, it would have me tripping 24 hours after the last pill: books dancing on the shelves, contact lens case writhing with maggots... etc. Nasty business. And I was doing the same pills as everyone else, from the same dealer. Nobody else got that. It was just me being far too sensitive. Some people took mind-expanding drugs because they were small-minded. But I wasn't. When my mind expanded, I think it burst at the seams. I never realized I'd caused such damage until I had an extended manic psychotic episode very recently. The feelings I got took me right back to the 1990s and my raving days. I hadn't taken any uppers in a long long time (bar tiny bits of crack, but even that I officially gave up Jan 1 2009 (with a handful of tiny lapses)... I gave up E 10 yrs ago, acid I hadn't tripped on since 1993, bar a couple of half-trips in the late 90s... I stopped partying over a decade ago and yet suddenly I was having the most incredible party in my head complete with E, speed and trips!! That wasn't happiness either, but it sure as hell beat being depressed!
childhood is childhood, one of the last times for happiness in those terms, growing up has its price, adulthood has its rewards. For more than 20 years my drug was getting high, I can relate. I was the rain king, I drank and smoked weed habitually. I had stages where I shot heroin and speed, dropped ecstacy, lsd and xanax. I even sniffed petrol for a while. Then I walked away, got therapy. (I met a wonderful therapist) and found the right medication that has stabilised my life. I ran towards these decisions, not away. The first steps were the hardest and turning the life around took many failures and much affort. I have no doubt you are on this path. It was sad to hear that your parents divorce had such an impact. You are a kind and gentle soul. You deserve a good life. Safe journey, Paul
ReplyDeleteSORRY THIS IS SO LONG; I HOPE IT IS RELEVANT. IF I READ IT THROUGH I KNOW I WON'T WANT TO POST IT SO HERE GOES:~~~
ReplyDeleteI think I became clinically depressed in childhood. My family disputed it (not that I was deeply unhappy, but that I was clinically depressed). I mulled over what they said. They weren't trying to be nasty btw, they just meant "it wasn't as bad as you remember it"... then realized they hadn't taken into account how much I strove to hide the feelings I had. I was obsessed with the idea that I was sick with cancer and was going to die, and actually felt like I was dying, I became extremely guilty over having stolen a £1 note (remember those!) a couple of years before. And I kept washing my hands, thinking I was contaminated. In the winter my hands chapped up and bled. This all kicked off when I was 10 and my parents were getting remarried (to new partners). The announcements came literally within 2 days of one another; the weddings were the same weekend. It was that that blew my mind, because I was totally torn over who I would live with. My Dad had custody of us and I loved his new wife, but really I wanted to be with my Mum. If I'd insisted on living with her it would have broken my family up, so I stayed with my Dad and was so full of conflicting loyalties and emotions I couldn't talk to anyone about, and didn't until about 2 years ago, I suppose I had a kind of breakdown. Really it was from that time on that I wasn't OK because the depression came back and back and back then it eventually turned bipolar then the dr says I'm schizo as well!!!
I looked through a Victorian psychiatry book, which is where those ridiculous "school reports" come from and no way am I anything like as bad as the schizophrenics described in there. Most of my depression was nowhere near as bad as the psychotic melancholia described in that book. I asked a friend whether she ever got so depressed her head felt literally empty of any thoughts and she said yes (she has depressive schizoaffective disorder). What I did match exactly was the descriptions of mania. They were so spot on it was as if the author had somehow gone into my head and written a book about the manic me.
Emil Kraepelin worked in a Victoria mental hospital and in those days of course nobody went into an asylum except as a very last resort, so by today's standards he's describing the outer extremes of madness and despair.
How the hell did I get onto that? Ha! I'll tell you the real reason: I have this constant thing going on that I've been misdiagnosed and being told I was mad was really weird. Imagine tripping on acid, going to see a shrink in that condition (because I hadn't dropped any acid for a great many years so I wasn't tripping... except I was!)... and this dr telling you you're even crazier than you thought you were. It totally did my head in. Not just that he said I was schizo but that because I was schizo everything felt unreal and uncanny. Just the "schizo" in schizoaffective made me think of a nightclub all the time (a schizo-disco)... ukk I can't explain the inexplicable. All I've done is wonder where do I go from here. And I realized all the laziness, the fact I can't be bothered taking care of myself, never do anything I need to do etc etc are all symptoms of schizophrenia, which still freaks me out. Now I've started feeling a bit high again, but I just hope it lasts. I know it's supposed to be an illness but I'd rather be high than low (or normal). I never feel normal. Even when my mood is normal, I don't feel normal. I got totally lost in all this, it's like being lost in a hall of mirrors. I know I'm lost and I know the reflections are distorted. What I can't sort out is what's real from what's not any more. I suppose.
BLOODY COMMENT TOO LONG AGAIN. PART 2:~
ReplyDeleteNow I've really rambled on I know. My path. I wish I could walk one that wasn't riddled with drugs drugs drugs. I mean there's only one drug I ever take now: heroin. And that doesn't do what it once did. We had a drought here that might have been worse than the Great Australian Heroin Drought some years ago. Literally there was nothing to buy for maybe 2 months. And 6 months later the gear's still CRAP compared to what it once was. I did some research and found out that taking purity into account, British heroin was some of the cheapest in the western world. It's probably never going to be as cheap as it once was, my veins are seriously done in and I want a different life. I somehow can't move on. I probably need a personality transplant!
You know that was one of my biggest ambitions: to change who I was. And I have succeeded. I just haven't got to where I want to be.........
you aint finished changing yet ;-) a mere 38 x
ReplyDeleteback later
word verify
nedusle
ana;needuls
take good care
x
ok 39, u r so pedantic
ReplyDeletex
I don't hate you for your commentary on my book. I appreciate it. I've just been away with a new boyfriend, and the love of my life heroin.
ReplyDeleteLove you darling
xx
BUGERLUGZ: changing? My clothes are in spectacular disarray. Clean ones hiding. Dirty ones everywhere. Typical. Now some BASTARD is knocking the front door. Those people are ALWAYS time wasters. Either they know the person and phone first. Or they don't know the person and the person doesn't want to see them. If it's an emergency and they can't phone eg phone broken they shout the name. Fucking time wasters. I'm supposed to go out. Now I gotta hide indoors or swear out the window and I'm not in the mood for doing either(!!)
ReplyDeleteANNA: thank God for that I thought you hated my guts and had jumped off a bridge, not died, and been consigned to a high security hospital!
Well that's what I feared. Whenever I don't hear from you I think something terrible has happened :-(
I'm really glad it hasn't though :-)
Write some more inspiring stuff. I don't know why you say you can't write. You write like an angel.
Nobody wants to read page after page of pretentious tosh. That kind of book, the type that wins literary prizes, does get bought ~ but mostly to be left out in middle class peoples' houses in an "aren't I really cultured" type of way. The type of book you're writing and that I read is the one you're likely to read from cover to cover and you don't care who knows or doesn't know you're reading it. In fact if someone sees it there they're more than likely to ask to borrow it. Then they'll like it so much they never give it back..............
Ooo! THE TINY TROTTERDONKEY HAMMIES SAY PING IN EVERY WAY!!
ReplyDelete