Just another Anic Monday

ANIC SHAMANIC. NO PANIC. NOT MANIC.

I slept for hours and hours till 3am then answered Buggalugz'z commment. Buggalugz has hammies. Robohammies, like I used to until they died and went into a cardboard box.

I slept for hours and hours got up 10:41 can't tell how many hours as kept waking up when it was dark, raving in my sleep, waking up again, feeling like I was on an adventure holiday, acheing all over wondering if I'd fallen off a horse, gone skiiing where did I get all these aches and pains? What have I been doing. Oh yeah I'm "ill" people who are "sick" lie in bed so that's what I did lay in my huge hammynest.

Then I got up fully engergized so energized I couldn't keep still at the pharmacy, had to walk half a mile and come back because Methadone Bird was being slow slow. Where did I go? Alcohol shop. Then I went home. Washed me. O yeah that was before the methadone. I did the hot moving bowl of water by the door thing. Space by the door. Slow slow careful wash of entire body head to toes. I know it's not as good as showering but there is no bath and a bath gets you clean when you lie there an hour and towel down all that skin comes off. Never happens in a shower. Showers make me so bright red from all the scrubbing then it hurts. Prefer a bath, me. So I washed, did that, then DOWN THE NEEDLE EXCHANGE with one black sack full of crapparse tiny sinbins and another bag with a tower-block shaped yellow one. No-one paying attention. One pharmacist talking crap about grams and drams someone else taking a shelf apart. Spare me. I left them at the till and vanished. So done that. Needles gone. Wahay!!!

I saw Valium Marilyn as she's intent upon obtaining Valium, I said I only wanted zopiclone. I am prescribed zopiclone. Zopiclone makes me sleep. I don't WANT to abuse drugs, why the hell should i?

I felt better today than any other day. Finally I am at a level. Although my head WAS bingbongtingtonging I was able to play with it and not get sucked into it, the way it does when foot is on the accelerator: instead of wind in the hair it's into a sound-vortex. Ultra-intense. Now I'm flying high and clear. Way better than before. My body is sore but I don't care for a body.

I gotta clean something up for someone else. Doing it in my own time, not out of time. Wednesday is a big day. Wednesday I'm going away to a psycho doctor and a psycho headshrinking thing. That's my big day. Tomorrow is Clean Day.

And I'm fine. I don't want to come down down down I will only frown frown frown and be a total waste of space. Waste of time. Why don't the government kill addicts and mentally ill people? They could save a fortune in taxes? I'd vote for myself to be killed. Never mind generalizations, I'm talking about me here. I'd vote for that. Would have voted for it over methadone, any day of the week. Less EXTENDED TORMENT involved. Ah! But they want us alive and suffering, so we do ourselves. That's probably it. I'm glad the Tories are in, at least I can call them Tory Bastards, even though I HATE LABOUR MORE and would NEVER IN A ZILLION YEARS VOTE LIBDEM. I hate all politicians. I'm the archetypal floating voter. Too central. Love saying "Tory BASTARDS" not voting. If forced to I vote green (who I loathe, when I look at their jealous, sour policies whether or not they're out for saving the planets they hate people who want to be Rich and Behind High Walls (only point I can see of being rich: cut yourself off from the world). So that's my views on politics. Be rich. Pay low taxes. Give money to charity. Choose your own charity and do not be taxed. And have an NHS that is the national health service, free for all.

{If I were actually tied down and forced to vote I'd give 3 Xs before I voted green, green is a v distant "if I absolutely have to" choice politicians deserve... lots of things I won't mention here... They SHOULD INSTITUTE THE UNIVERSAL PRESCRIPITON OF INJECTABLE DIAMORPHINE TO ADDICTS for one thing...}

That's it bye!!

Music comes later.

Illustrated: tiny furry robo (roborovski) hammy; tired yawning tiger; psychedelic psycho-tiger ~ this one forgot its methadone and the pharmacy's pretending to be closed. Note the missing bottom right tooth.

Money Monday

This is in response to Gattina's shout for Fun Monday Money participants. We are to show our wallets and money (if any) inside.
Since I never use a wallet I cannot show that, but here's our newest banknote, the Purple Twenty. Reversing the trend for a decline in aesthetic standards, this, the Bank of England's latest effort is quite classy in my view.
TODAY IS THE DAY most of the layabouts, the sick, depraved, work-&-claiming and desperately-seeking-employment brigades get paid by British Social Security.

Our country's benefits bill is so enormous that all revenue from Income Tax covers this and this alone. All other government expenditure derives from the VAT sales tax, (which is levied not only on goods but professional services ~ when my book finally comes out I will have to pay VAT as a writer, once I go over about £45,000 ~ which I hope, of course, that I will... and the multitude of levies raised principally from smokers, drinkers and motorists (no wonder our country's in a mess!)

If and when I do ever get out of the nasty Benefits Trap, and truly am well enough to work and have a life (not going straight to bed suicidally exhausted and barely able to get out when the time rolls round for work again) ~ if I ever manage this, I will be so overjoyed I plan on leaving the country!

Then I'll have a whole new set of banknotes to play with...

... hopefully piles and piles of 'em!!

Snowball Mondays Again!

BUT NOT THE DRUGGIE (HEROIN-CRACK INJECTION) TYPE: overnight it snowed transforming London Town into a winter wonderland... three to four inches deep (though it appears deeper, that's what was atop our wheelie-bins, making them look like a row of giant wedding-cakes)... traffic hushed, shusshing through the slush. Tescos (major supermarket chain) was closed till past eleven; my methadone chemist has only just opened with a line of desperate shivering junkies silhouetted in the still-falling, flurrying snow. Some other chemists, apparently, haven't opened at all and so their clients have had to come into an emergency methadone dispensing "surgery" at the drug service in the next borough along from me (I don't know what my borough's doing, though I'd hope it's the same...) London is divided into more than 30 boroughs... It's such a sprawling town in fact that even the locals take pride in being unable to locate or never having heard of areas where hundreds of thousands of people reside... Redbridge, Barnes, Forest Hill and Forest Gate are some that get me. Those last two are nowhere near one another and locals get really offended if you mix them up. (I've been to one to see a fluoro-haired trance-granny from my clubbing days. Even in Goa the travelling locals knew all about her when I asked after her to a much younger, prettier Kensington-posh looky-likey. "Oh her??!? She's a K-head and besides she doesn't have planets in her hair". (And this from a 26-year-old (acid) triphead who was forever ranting at the top of her croaky voice, her every anecdote commencing with "I'd been tripping for 3 days when..."...

Anyway back to MY drugs of the present-day. Yesterday I crossed another bridge. Clearing out my packed-to-bursting with vit c sachets, fresh "works", old "works", empty "works" packets, swabs, supposedly single-use druggie cooking up spoons (I'm the only person I know who uses them. I'm not blackening and bending my new Ikea spoons, no way...)

... Anyway I threw out loads of trash, and, when the drawer was done, had my three old crack bottles lined in a row. They were all miniature Martell brandy bottles with the bottoms knocked through (you can do this in a second with a screwdriver, and though it would seem this might shatter the entire thing, a neat pipe-worthy hole is popped out of the bottom). Then you shove squiggly washing-up wire in the top and ~ bang! ~ you're ready to "rock"!

So I gazed at these rather pinefully for a while. No chance of even the tiniest bit of recycle from any one of them: they've been obsessively scraped, poked and "chugga'd" out a million times while I was high... And taking one in each hand, I smashed them together, reducing both to smithereens and dashed the last one on my tiled kitchen floor.

I did feel faintly sad at having burned this bridge, though I've barely a single happy memory of crack, or any manner of cocaine ~ except I did love banging it up concocted with heroin, the famous speedball or snowball. I loved those; used to think they were yummy...

... But no more. And now we've real snow outside.

Waking up, shivering and a bit sweaty, thinly held by a late night dose of methadone, I've never been so displeased to see snow. I tramped outside cussing myself for oversleeping, cussing the weather and generally acting like a grouchy old man (if/when I actually do get old at this rate I'm going to be insufferable..!)

Yes I did give in to the temptation of heroin, I'm afraid. Money Mondays are so difficult for me. But coke ~ the druggie "snow" ~ is and always shall remain a mixed-up dimming remnant of my past...

Fascinating documentary on Channel 4 last night: THE MADNESS OF BOY GEORGE ~ all about the New York community service episode, and his past life, including the heroin addiction but not the rent boy scandal that's got him serving 15 months for "false imprisonment" (with handcuffs)... excellent stuff.

MADONNA: OH FATHER
Continuing the snowy theme... Whatever you say about her, Madge does do great videos...
Hey can anybody stateside confirm for me whether this actually does play out there? It's the only embeddable version I could find but for copyright reasons only plays supposedly in the USA. It certainly doesn't play here... but for you Americans I thought you might like a "treat" (or something to make you puke, depending how you view the "Queen of Pop")...

Madonna - New Music - More Music Videos

BRITNEY SPEARS EVERYTIME
I'm not into Britney at all, but this is the only one that made any impression on me...

Just Another Maniac Monday...

MONDAYS ARE NOT EASY DAYS! I associate Mondays with blitzing out as much as possible. Finally I (should) get to an NA meeting tonight... just as long as I can double-confirm what time it starts and that it is indeed still on there...

... I've not been to NA in years, never did the programme but did "keep coming back" enough and get genuinely serious enough quite some time ago to actually sort myself out with a sponsor.

The sponsor was more enthusiastic than me about my getting clean and somehow the tide turned, a powerful and inexorable feeling, if you ever have fought an actual physical tide that's just how irresistible it felt in the end... then he fled every meeting he felt likely to meet ME in and has never been seen since! His number is somewhere in a long-defunct old mobile-SIM so I've no idea whatsoever how he is. I just hope he still is clean as he had a year's clean-time when I knew him and that must be two-and-a-half years ago now!

Something I realized during my "awakening", and what got me the all-time worst was just how intensely dead so much of me had become. "Spiritually bankrupt" is another way of feeling towards the same meaning. It's not easy to explain as most of what I succeeded in posting here described in glass-half-full type terms what I'd succeeded in saving of myself from the grinding spiritual death of such intensely powerful and all-encompassing addiction...

Death does not speak, does not feel to reach out and even try. Death, being a state of utter unknowing could not say much even when the living portion wakes up enough to realize just how dire things have become. What is there to say about death. Death is nothing and (I know, anyhow) ~ as the Bible says: "the dead know nothing"...

Slowly I'm trying to get back in touch with people but that is not easy in small tranches of time so please don't be offended when I don't get back to you. It's just because I'm spiritually dead... OK excuses excuses but... y'know~??!?

PS: in response to 2 of yesterday's comments, 1: the trotterij is still fine (I think that is Dutch for "trottery"; at least it sounds that way... & 2: I cannot be sure which bridge features in the Coldplay video but the view somehow reminds me of looking due South from the one nearest the Tate (oldschool) Gallery near Pimlico tube...

Raw Peanuts Monday Mourning

RIGHTY-HO, I'm sat here with my new favourite snack of raw peanuts and Bashful, Itchy and Spherical are drowsing in their toilet tubes and it's plunging into deep autumn. Always my favourite time of year though I know lots of people who hate it (strangely all for the same reason: because they once lost someone at this time of year). And I'm down and depressed as well. Wasn't even up for writing yesterday, which I think is a really sappy thing to do as there's no excuse in the world for not writing. A professional writes every day no matter how "uninspired" they might tell themself they feel. Wasn't it Trollope who said, "I only write when inspired. And I make sure inspiration strikes at 9am sharp every morning!" I'm definitely with Trollope on that one though if I churned out a slew of world-slayingly dullard novels about boring clergy in catatonic middle England as a result I would surely commit suicide.... Still I am coughing and spluttering from last week. Mother Hubbard told me "it's never as bad as it seems" this morning. I don't know why she thought I was depressed. Usually I could chop my head off and play football in the street with it until any of my friends would spot anything unusual about me, but hey...

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Video of the day:
1. music:
Leona Lewis - Bleeding Love
2. other:
Cancer Research Ad: Fields of Gold

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PS Click to see a recent picture of the fully-grown-up Baby Itchy!

OK, fair do's; that's a capybara, the world's largest rodent. But it does look like Baby Itchy now that she's officially "gynormous"...

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Blog recommendations of the day:
Perceptions http://villagerinsrilanka.blogspot.com ~ life of a Sri Lankan farmer...

Weird Fascinating Stuff http://weirdfascinatingstuff.blogspot.com ~ psychotic squirrel terrorizes Germans!

Appalacian Mountain Trails - fall colors! http://jlivingstonjr.blogspot.com

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Baby Itchy Gallery.


Click and scroll down for some exceedingly entertaining Baby Itchy Roborovski pictures from before she was practically hippo-size.

OK admittedly they belong to someone else who says their hamster "has to be kept with the same high security as a serial killer on vacation" but it does look pretty much the same as poor Baby Itchy...

Actually, here's their original quote:

Our Roborovski hamster is quite shy and runs like the wind on a windy day. He has escaped a few times but now, he is handled with equivalent security to a serial killer on a school trip to the seaside - but with lots of love as well.

Monday Bloody Monday

THANKFULLY THE DAY IS NEAR OVER. I once bought a hamster when I was depressed to try and cheer me up. It was a female tubby golden Syrian mesocricetus auratus. I called her Tubbemer. She did not cheer me up. In fact I don't think she ever really liked me. We never got on as well as me and Pandable (who looked just like Tubbemer but was a boy.) Pandable was a wonderhammy. Slept solidly all day. Woke like clockwork at evening time. Got up. Washed ears. Did weez and pooze in corner. (Golden hamsters always use the same corner as toilet. Dwarf ones are more scruffy and just wee and poo anywhere.) Once Pandable was solidly awake he hit the wheel. I had to buy him a special enormous free-standing rat wheel as all hamster-"sized" ones were too small. He could not stretch out and run full-pelt. He used to run this rat wheel literally from dusk until dawn and woe betide you if it got blocked with sawdust or toppled over. He went nuts charging back and forth amongst the tank until you got up and fixed it. I read somewhere that the "average" hamster runs five miles a night. Well Pandable was a superhammy in that case as he did eight miles every night! I know this because we attached a yellow label to one end of the wheel so we could count rpms. These we multiplied, an average distance per minute timesed by the eight hours or whatever it was he spent rambling on this bloody thing. He barely ever got off it. Except sometimes to run a circuit of the tank and swiftly get back on again. Even if you let him out on the floor and put the wheel in the corner of the room, he'd just run straight up to it and take up rambling on that ... bizarre creature. When I took him to my Dad's house in a mouse cage with a smaller hamster wheel he spent the entire week in a foul mood, angrily gnawing at the mouse-bars and doing pooze on the new wheel in protest ... sorry I am rabblitting on and on about hamsters I know I should not. I am so depressed and down and exhausted though. I am planning to stop all drugs all together in the near future and want to cut down the methadone and come off. I know this will make me feel mentally dreadful. But the time has come to feel dreadful without heroin-methadone in the mix. You know that saying by The Verve? The Drugs Don't Work ..? See? They really don't. I don't know. My friend Ivy (from the internet) keeps saying she is going to be an escort. I don't know what to say to her. I just told her be careful of warts and don't let the punters wheedle you into dispensing with a condom ... I don't know what else to say. Everyone in my house hates me because they thought I was leaving. I want to go. But you know the saying "better the devil you know" ... that is really hanging me up. Also I don't want to move too far from this area. I would have to bus down every day to the methadone chemist's for one thing ... what can I do? What shall I do? I don't know. Monday! Bad mood bloody Monday!!

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Go to http://pinguindude.blogspot.com for a bullying story

Mournday Monday

I HAVE TO POST SOMETHING BECAUSE IT'S A NEW DAY AND I'M HERE. Not in the mood=what do I say? I tried to make biscuits last night. The resulting slop was horrible. Also I do not have an oven (only hotplates). So I attempted cooking these on tinfoil atop that. Bad move. I am in a bad mood because that Matran (who doesn't officially even live in our house) had the cheek to speak to me threateningly. I didn't say one word back. In retrospect I think this was a good move. One day he will get himself in real trouble and I won't be the one wasting my energy on him. I don't really have much else to say. Evilstein said he was coming round today. He did not. Well not when I was there. As I said I have a birdcage. Maybe I should find some birds to put in it? Little ones like zebra finches. Also they don't make annoying noises. I once had a budgie in my room. I love budgies but the chirping drove me to distraction ... Yeah, zebra finches it is. Of course I may not do this... but on the other hand why bloody not?

Right. Song of the day: We're in Heaven - DJ Sammy version.
Or click for original Brian Adams version ...

Miserable on Monday

IT'S BEEN ONE HELL of a miserable weekend, waiting, waiting on one thing to make it feel better. Today was kept waiting for four hours at Mother Hubbard's house. All manner of dreadful thoughts had been going through my mind ... little positive for me to say. I'm going to give the two best Youtube links below. Have a click and see whether you like them...

1. Nora the Piano-Playing Cat

2. Michael Jackson's Thriller Wedding Video

Do tell what you think~!!

Run-a-Day Monday

YES I SPENT ALL WEEKEND SULKING and in bed and not seeing the internet and not feeling well and sleeping the minute my back was turned to any activity. I did have ritual Sunday Lunch at Mother Hubbard's, but fell asleep on the corner of her bed after that ... then I fell awake for a great deal of Sunday night going into Monday morning ...

... why am I posting this boredom in such details? ...

Ah yes! I just saw my ten messages from wellwishing friends. I thank you all! Seriously. That was so nice of people troubling to get in touch ...

Now I'm here, hot alone. It's not a fever, but I wasn't well. This morning, felt like I had a stomach full of metal staples scrunching in on me around all that yellow bile. Aaaarrrrgggghkk!! I hate bodies. Hate bodily functions. Hate nonfuctional bodies. Hate functions full-stop. Just ... functioning ... is pain. Nicer to 4get about it. Do angels sit on the toilet? Serious question. How superior not to have the burden of a body ... a ray of sunlight ... a drop of golden sun ... a golden dream ... a dream forever onwards. "Thou shalt not surely die," said the Serpent to Eve I once read (reasonably) is the ultimate lie. That humankind has no immortal soul. That the divine in human is the image of God, in whose image we're all created. That no-one need worry about eternity, unless we qualify.

This is the Christian theory that I have heard: that goes against every other "inner divine" - religions are paths that converge at the mountaintop - we've all lived before and shall live again ... most typical theory. Speaking as one who's dabbled in Hinduism, Buddhism and Techno-Shamanic Paganism or "the New Age" as well as Christianity, have quite a variety of religious experiences under my belt ...

I don't know that I could otherwise deal with eternity. Let alone fully comprehend it ... I would have to qualify ...

Eternity. We all know it. It's all that infinity before we were born. Do you know such infinity very well? Because I don't ...

On that note I leave you ...

PS Anna Nicole Smith: polydrug addict not heroin addict. Ie she was an addict who took a little of everything and a lot of somethings. But essentially a mixture ... My apologies. Correction.

Mopeful Monday: Common Cold

IT'S NOT LONG AFTER 8PM, yet it feels incredibly late and glary. This monitor is demi-migraining me out with its flickeriness & pixxelated psychic zigzzagging ... yes I am prone to migraines in the so-called "classical" format which nonsufferers find so bizarre & difficult to comprehend. Far from being a mere headache, classical migraine kicks off with an "aura" that involves disrupted eyesight (typically, something similar to the visual sensation you experiences when someone lets off a camera flash at you in gloomy ambience and the dazzle refuses to shift for a few minutes). Mentally you tend to feel vague. You can go numb (often down one side). Some people have even got temporarily paralysed. Nausea hits. Vomiting is common. And all this from a medical condition that probably qualifies as "most used excuse to justify time off from work of all time..."

Once I was sat on a chair minding my own business at my friend's house, got up from the chair. Blood rushed out of my head. Too quickly, as it turns out. Something resembling a spangly-flish-flashing curtain had instantaneously been pulled across literally 80% if not 90% of my field of vision. I was totally blind in one eye, nearly all blind in the other. The only sight I had left was a strip down the right hand side. It was like when digital television messes up. My vision had all gone except for this one neat remaining strip. Literally I was BLIND.

Told my best mate what had happened. I wasn't panicking, so much as utterly bemused. He told me to "look" straight ahead (not that anything was there to see) keeping my eyes wide open. Next thing I felt was something in my eye. I'm irritated to recall this as this was so typical of him. He had to test me, didn't he? Had to disbelieve and doubt. And he'd poked his finger right in my eye.

What else can I say about this? Except that most people would perhaps have smacked him one in his eye. I was used to contact lenses, so his finger didn't perhaps bother me as badly it might someone who wasn't used to fingers going in their eye. And there aren't really nerves on the eyeball, so it didn't hurt either. But what an imposition! What a cheek!! Thinking back I'm still irritated with him. That action was so typical of the guy. But on the other hand I'm glad that my outrageously extreme migraine story does at least have one person who can vouch that I did go blind, it was true ... Anyhow, migraine continued:--

Then I got a headache so bad that no tablets at all would touch it. Migraine headache tends to be focused on one point in the head, like being stabbed by a knitting needle. And any movement of the head, like walking or even just turning the head perhaps is agony ... This went on for three days. Eventually the doctor gave me something mysterious in the form of anti-inflamatory injection. He may as well have injected water. But the migraine eventually faded.

So that's my three-day migraine story. And BTW I pronounce it my-graine. I've noticed that mee-graine is more often used by people imploring time off work, by selfish people and liars. E.g. Penelope Keith said "mee-graine" in To the Manor Born ...

As for today, my methadone sickness has turned out to be a common cold ... so I was sneezing for a reason last night in my multiple six-eight-ten sneezes sessions. Diarrhoea is going (aren't you all delighted for that titbit!!). And no, I do not have bird flu!!!

Before I sign off, let me trawl my mind for possible incursions into sanity ... (why did I say that? My cousciousness, fresh as a mountain stream? Or a polluted industrial effluence discourse...? O wot does this mean?

It means, Gleds, that you've nothing to say and should really have signed off two paragraphs ago! Okay. I just want to say hi to all the people I met while blog-hopping earlier on. There were loads of them. I've a notebook full of urls, and some of the best have gone in my links already. One thing the internet has shown me truly and well: that there is talent spread out among the general population that is genuinely amazing. The blogworld has its writers, photographers, designers, artists, pundits who are just as good as their paid and paper-published counterparts... if not far better.

So the days of that head-up-the-anus breed of newspaper columnist, in my view, are well and truly numbered. Us bloggers do the self-same job just as well-- and for free-!!