London Town Is Burning Down

WE HAD RIOTS IN LONDON last night and the night before. It all kicked off in Tottenham where a vigil for a boy shot dead by police blew up. shops were looted, buildings burned out. This spread to nearby Wood Green where shops the length of the High Road were smashed up, earthquake style. Last night the looting spread to Enfield, which is up the road from Wood Green Tottenham and even across the river to Brixton, a famously vulgar inner City suburb well known for drugs and civic unrest. I used to go clubbing in Brixton and I've scored heroin in Wood Green so I know both places well. Tottenham is an endless expanse of crack dens and Jehovah's Witness churches with no real centre. Enfield is the middle of nowhere. My metadone chemist is closing early because he hears the unrest (which is basically organized looting, not true rioting) will spread right across town. I heard another rumour this might happen so maybe it's true.

I wasn't depressed yesterday morn; I was just crying for no apparent reason. Then I wet out to poke through the riot damage and was hyper yet again. Smiling so widely the police kept giving me funny looks. It was a real fun day out.

Then my friend came back and paid me a £10 note and a £15 bag of heroin. He kept complaining my gear was bigger than his and had the cheek to ask for a bit back! Until I said I had hep C and it was all wet in a spoon I had previously flushed blood into ~ that put the grasping fucker right off!

Then I had a lovely 12 hour sleep and woke up feeling ill yet again. For days I have been sweating, freezing cold, bellyacheing, farting like a whizzing balloon and generally feeling crap I only didn't feel it too much because my mood simultaneously soared allowing me less sleep over the previous 4 days than I got all last night!


The ignorant BO-reeking Turk who runs our local heroin money laundering establishment ~ ie a "grocery shop" ~ queried whether I was feeling alright this afternoon. When I said quite alright, yeah, he added are you sure? then said something sarky in his ugly-sounding peasant dialect of his (it doesn't sound like the proper Turkish that comes blaring out of their in-store TV sets, it has very oily over-rounded vowels. You know how most languages sound more beautiful and exotic than English? This is the exception. It's a horrible sounding tongue and I, who speak 6 languages badly, am glad not to speak it. I'm sure even an educated Turk wouldn't understand his barbarian sheep-bleating dialect. Anyway, it's true I had crowded in out of the rain wearing winter coat, glastonbury jumper with furry hood and ultra warm tracksuit bottoms (ie my pajamas, though he shouldn't have known that) and had hands together like a praying mantis. Then he said I've seen you outisde with your glasses. So fucking what. I know my eyewear looks fantabulous but a compliment from a donkey******g peasant is meaningless to me. He waers glasses and his ones look really shit. I'm tempted to get them done under the Disability Discrimination act for takig teh piss out of a schizoaffective. That would fucking serve him right. Also if his shop gets smashed up tonight that would serve him right more. I am very angry with him for daring to speak to me like a piece of shit. Everyone treats me like shit. And you know what? I don't even have to answer back merely LOOK THEM IN THE EYE and people recoil in terror. This has happened more than once lately. The weak and sappy are intimidated by my superior spirit.

I still stand by all I said yesterday morning; all was true. Beauty is passing; ugliness remains. Ecstasy might stretch to touch the universe's end, yet agony is lasting. Only pain is true. Happiness is a mere illusion. If you're happy you're more than likely mentally ill. I do not desire to live in this world I want to live with God. Sorry to tell the truth like that: truth hurts.

Isaiah 11:1-9
And there shall come forth a rod out of the stem of Jesse, and a Branch shall grow out of his roots:

And the spirit of the LORD shall rest upon him, the spirit of wisdom and understanding, the spirit of counsel and might, the spirit of knowledge and of the fear of the LORD;

And shall make him of quick understanding in the fear of the LORD: and he shall not judge after the sight of his eyes, neither reprove after the hearing of his ears:

But with righteousness shall he judge the poor, and reprove with equity for the meek of the earth: and he shall smite the earth: with the rod of his mouth, and with the breath of his lips shall he slay the wicked.

And righteousness shall be the girdle of his loins, and faithfulness the girdle of his reins.

The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.

And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together: and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

And the sucking child shall play on the hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the cockatrice' den.

They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain: for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the LORD, as the waters cover the sea


A STAR IS BORN: EVERGREEN

8:40PM Calm

IT'S MID EVENING. I am trying to remain calm. I know I was ranting like anybody's business this morning and part of this afternoon. Feeling very euphoric and "grandiose"!! Yeah!! Fantastic in other words. Way better than I did any other day. Higher, yet clearer. And less bizzledizzle in the head (I can say that without my head going fizzle dizzle wizzle hizzle) OK it just did, but at a far lower grade. I didn't go into a vector cyclone thing where it takes me off like a helecopter flying into a spiral and out the other side, then touching down on top of all that energy, looking down on everything. On top of the Universe. That feels pretty good.

I'm half tempted to give a list of drugs I didn't take to get there. I do need to make one point clearer. If I mention my experience in terms of drugs or psychedelics, those are merely terms of reference. I never ever was an addict to those substances. I'd done heroin more times in my first month of heavy using (not my first month of using) than I ever did Es, trips and all else in my life. You need to get in perspective the AMOUNT of something taken and the IMPACT it has on you. Heroin has had near-zero impact. It only ever took stuff away. Gave me very little. Psychedelics give. Ecstasy gives. Whether the giving is good I'm not going into here, and I do have a policy of not condoning drug use. Describing, yes, condoning. NO! Live your life, do not use. I cannot think of a single chemical I truly think was "worth it". My biggest recurring dream re drugs was of temazepam, which used to come in yellow (or dark green) eggs full of gel (or liquid). I dreamed of rugby ball (that is an American football) sized yellow ones. I only ever took temazepam in the early 90s that was prescribed to me. So I was dreaming of my own sleep medication which my own doctor, who was the best GP I've ever had (had a rolling once a week appointment with him, that's why I wasn't raving ALL THE TIME back then I was really badly in a mess. The music was a soundtrack, I indulged occasionally, it made a big impression, I indulged again in the late 90s when I was more together, it still made me a mess, I don't do it now) ~ that's me and raving, Eeeeing, clubbing, party drugging. Yes I did it every week for a short while maybe a year or so. So when I feel really good of course I'm going to think of E, the drug which made me feel "like I'd finally found the pot of gold at the rainbow's end". Ecstasy also made me feel lied to. Like nothing else, including heroin, ever has. And I have also spent days lying in bed crying because I felt lied to, let down, and that the people who seemed so nice were themselves on E, I was myself, but we all had issues, sometimes deep-cut horrifying ones and I mean other people, not me that horrified me who didn't need horrifying. And the whole thing turned out into a mess with me hallucinating a good 24 hours after the last pill which MDMA doesn't do, I was scoring the same pills off the same dealer as everyone else. And I wasn't the only one cracking up and not coping come Monday morning. It was horrible to see. When I realized the truth, the real truth about clubbing, beyond the obvious fact that these were young people pretty badly overdoing it in some cases (not mine ~ I was just doing it and the little I did, usually no more than 2 pills... except the very end when it went past 5 then 8... that was over... 4 occasions ie 2, 2.5...2.5 (shit I'm lying I did 1.5 then 1 ie 10 pills=4nights out) ... and I was very well organized re timing etc. When I didn't want to take it I didn't take anything. Or a tiny handful of mushrooms. So few I wasn't "tripping" just had a euphoria you get off a tiny mushroom dose but not acid.

I can't even remember where I was going with this, and Im not spending all evening editing and obsessing. Other people can obsess if/when they want to. I'm not as obsessive as some people seem to think. I have ASPECTS that are.

Hey I found a different tune. It's slow. It kind of makes me want to cry. I don't want to cry about anything. Never cry about myself, it always mystifies me when people cry because they ... whatevered. Tears of giult I can understand. Crying because you hurt someone, I understand. Ha! Do you know what actually healed a lot of my friendships (in retrospect) was me crying when we were yelling at one another. These were friendships/relationships with the opposite sex. Didn't realize at the time they were probably touched.

When my friend Lucky died I felt nothing for a whole month. Didn't go to the funeral. I was in a mess. Had nothing to wear. Didn't want to face people I didn't know who knew her who knew when..? Banging on about her. She fell into frienships with the opposite sex that weren't sexual (or weird) she was nearly 60 they were probably late 20s or in their 30s and they did crack and heroin round at hers. Lucky's flat was a safe, quiet, peaceful place to go. I deliberately kept some distance as her friends seemed to last a certain time then vanish. (She was an addict: an expert at self-confusion.) Then she died, suddenly. It wasn't an overdose, she just dropped down dead, in front of someone else. The paramedics couldn't save her. She always thought she was invincible but I remember myself dragging her from her bathroom after she overdosed. The jolt woke her up, but in those moments she was gone. If you don't take overdose seriously you really are a fool. Anyway a month later I ran into her old friend who showed me the Order of Service from the funeral. I suppose the fact that he was carrying it on him said a lot. And then I cried. And cried and cried and cried and cried. I have never cried so much over anyone I knew. I hope wherever you are you feel flattered Lucky. I cried for you.

I wanna contact the living... not sure I understand this road I've been given...
that's it!



ps if you wonder why the unedited rants, if i tidy up when i'm extreme i'll get lost in the words, if i wait till a time like now: I'll make my own witness statement to myself into a lie, so I can't do it. The "worst" stuff IS who I WAS who I AM who I BECOME when I am like THAT.

Thanks Lizzie. For everything.