中文小毛足鼠 Chinese Roborovskis (etc)...

HERE ARE SOME OF THE ANIMALS IN CHINESE:

Roborovski hamster xiǎo máo zú shǔ 小毛足鼠 "little furry-footed mouse"

The generic word for a hamster is a cāng shǔ 倉鼠 a "warehouse mouse" (referring to the cheek pouches that get packed to near-bursting with grain)

The word for Syria is Xùlìyǎ 敘利亞 so a Syrian hamster is a Xùlìyǎ cāng shǔ 敘利亞倉鼠.

A dog is a quǎn 犬

A cat is onomatapoeically a māo 猫

A xióng 熊 is a bear.

A panda is a xióng māo 熊猫 a "bear cat"

A fish is a yú 鱼

A wasp is a huáng fēng 黄蜂 a "yellow bee"

Though you'd actually call a bee a mì fēng 蜜蜂 a "honey bee"

A bumblebee is a dà huáng fēng 大黄蜂 a "big yellow bee"...

A hornet is a mǎ fēng 马蜂 "horse bee"!

The word for a bee, fēng 蜂 is pronounced the same as "wind" fēng 风 as in fēngshuǐ 风水 fengshui ~ "wind-water"!

And that's enough Chinese (Zhōngwén 中文) for one day!

Zàijiàn 再见！ (GOODBYE!)

*******

VIDEO: a hǔ tóu fēng 虎頭蜂 "tigerhead bee" in East Anglia, UK!

Roborovski Entertainment Circus

...furry friday on saturday...



TINY HANDTAME ROBOROVSKI HAMSTERS

Here is Butter the white faced roborovski hammy. Look how tiny the (fully grown) hamster is compared to the hand:~



This one's called Lily, very cute, more of a struggler. Look how quick she pings on the wheel:



ROBO DUST BATH
Open secret: hamsters love taking dust baths:



ROBO SWIMMING
no they don't look like they're "enjoying it" but they do look cute and very tiny nonetheless...



WISHING Y'ALL A VERY FURRY WEEKEND INDEED...

02：50澳门

IT'S TEN TO THREE in the morning. I have to sleep in a sec but here's 2 more good videos. Listen to Barber's adagio; it's the choral version and louder than NASA.

HERE's another version of Barber's Adagio for Strings (sung) "heaven"
if your computer has quiet sound like mine this one's louder than the NASA version posted yesterday



CUTE THINGS EXPLODING: ROBOHAMMY



I AM LEARNING CHINESE AGAIN. Not Japanese. Chinese. This is because I have a Teach Yourself Complete Mandarin Chinese double CD and book pack and am thoroughly enjoying doing tones at top volume. My neighbours already think I'm insane so why not go the whole hog with this?

我太太不喝酒。 "my wife does not drink alcohol"
我喝中国茶。"I drink Chinese tea"

Wish me luck with the Chinese language. I am sure I shall need it...

TALKING OF SUBLIME TUNES
AVE MARIA: STREISAND

Rhubarb and custard pie..!

I WENT TO NARCOTICS ANONYMOUS YESTERDAY... at long last! I arrived there late (as per usual). I found myself having to sit right at the front with people behind me (as per usual). People in the meeting were making me paranoid (as usual). And I missed the chair (as usual) ~ that is my favourite bit, when somebody tells their life story about getting on drugs, getting off them, what happened and why. I love the chairs. I didn't say anything but the guy next to me piped up in newcomers time to say he'd just come outof the lunatic asylum with depression and was being treated by the Nutters At Home psyche team. I was really glad to hear that.

Then a woman spoke up about taking her friend's mother into hospital. Her friend's mother was seriously ill with... schizophrenia. I'm keeping my mouth shut about being schizo. It was quite a revelation to realize it's not a crime to be mentally ill at NA. That's certainly how it felt when I had prominent "issues" of my own. They all thought I was on drugs and more than one told me so. They never listened to anything I had to say, eg if I told somebody afterwards, "I can't take any drugs now" they'd interrupt "of course you can't" probably meaning "because you're like me, and taking drugs will set you off back on the road of addiction". But that isn't why I can't take most drugs. They make such an obvious mess of my head I'm averse to touching them again. Addiction doesn't come into it. Nauseated loathing and aversion very much does.

It's day 2 of my pill-popping escapade. Even though I posted about going back on them last week, I held off, hoping for a hypomanic miracle that might lift me on my own.

I still have distracting thoughts around the exterior of my mind ~ mostly on the right hand side. They're not as loud as the voices even yesterday, so maybe the pills are working. I bought some Valium to wash them down. Why Valium? Well you try taking heavy antispychotics without it. Having to stay awake while your brains are chemically coshed really isn't pleasant and 4mg risperidone from nothing really does feel like concussion ~ minus the headache, but all the brain-whirling dizziness, confusion et cetera all the same. It's not the pleasant wooziness some smackheads seem to enjoy, it's an overpowering feeling of being bashed on the brainbox. I wish the Nutter Club was still going so I had a forum to complain about this to people who understand. I only took 3mg risperidone yesterday, thinking it might make me a little less wuzzy. Tonight I'm thinking of taking all 4 again, but I'm scared of being out of action tomorrow. On Monday I felt done in for the first half of the day. Almost too unsteady to want to risk walking up the street. With time all these side effects diminish, except for the effect risperidone has on sleep. It doesn't make you go to sleep, so it's no good for initial insomnia. But it does keep you under once you get TO sleep.

My friend Buggerlugz has EIGHTEEN tiny roborovski hamsters pinging in all directions in tiny hammy lairs. They keep breeding and having trotterdonkey babies. One is named Reggie, another is named Anchovy. I think Anchovy was meant to be a boy but she's a girl. I thought my "Baby" Itchy Roborovski was a boy at first and persuaded her to walk around on a CD case so I could check this. She was most offended at being examined in this manner and bunnyhopped on the floor and would have pinged away if I hadn't chucked a towel upon her.

And did you know baby hamsters are called Pups. They look like baked beans with paws?...?





Here's Bashful, Itchy and Spherical in one of their old nests before they died. They had about five or six nests on the go at once. Itchy is the drowsy one who looks like she's been nibbling at the risperidone... She used to hear voices saying "Have you been trotting on your wheel?" and "come here you furry swine!" but they weren't schizophrenia; they were me!

I've been scoffing Mr Kipling's rhubarb and custard pies with Cornish Dairy ice cream. They're really nice. Yes I decided to break my diet a bit. There's something really miserable about depriving yourself of food. I lost about 11 pounds but Valium Marilyn's scales aren't very good. You have to bang them twice then clamber upon them. Marilyn has lost a lot of weight, having been in hospital; she looks like a little old lady now. She's depressed because her Mum and Dad both died a few years ago and their house was her refuge from Nasty Old Life... and it's not there any more. Her son stole 3 or 4 strips of temazepam 20s off her. We had to go right through everything looking for them. He's in his late 20s and still smokes cannabis ~ hashish would you believe. Why on earth anybody would voluntarily smoke that psychosis-causing gunk is anybody's guess. Marilyn rants about how harmless it is, yet she never smokes it. There's even a "Cannabis is Food of the Gods" type movement that believes spliffs should be used in mental healthcare instead of stuff like Valium. The sort of people who believe this have never tried Valium and never had a mental health problem. If they had, they'd know cannabis is the LAST thing any psychotic person with half a brain would want to smoke... though having said that I do recall clearly how the 2 favourite drugs in the mental hospital were 1: cannabis (by a long way) and 2: CRACK COCAINE... the 2 street drugs most liable to bring on extreme paranoia are used recreationally by paranoiacs themselves! But not all these people get full-on symptoms in every conceivable way. I once asked one whether something had ever happened to him that happened to me when I went mad ~~ and he looked at me like I really had a screw loose! His symptoms were probably more extreme than mine in many ways... but just different.

Yesterday's NA really helped me focus on WHY I want off these drugs I'm so hooked on. People remind me why I want to stop them, by telling how their lives were messed up.

I pingpong between believing heroin should be legalized and on sale from vending machines and thinking that all addicts ought to be executed by lethal injection (of heroin).

I still have a huge mark at the top of my thigh like a cigar burn. Originally it had a pussing head, but now it's scabbed over. I picked the first scab off but a beautiful second scab has appeared. There's a huge volcanic lump under it that I keep squeezing in the hope some pus might ooze. But it's totally dry. It's not disappointing not to have an abscess, but when I do have one, I most certainly get value for money out of it, with all the kneeding and squeezing and pus-milking.

This song was going round my head as I walked home from the chemists in a thunderstorm:



MADONNA: WHO'S THAT GIRL

I FOUND A 6ft long little trotter horse narrow cardboard tube ideal for tubby roborovski hamsters to ping along. It's lying up my street as we speak.

In the shop I purchased a Cadbury's Praline Flake bar and no cyder. I'm giving giving up alcohol a bash and I'm doing it cold turkey. Fed up of messing around. I calculated I was on just over 40 units of alcohol ~ that is 400 mls or 320 grams of neat alcohol ~ per week or three half-litre cans of cherry Fizz per week. I'm fed up of drinking alcohol. As my family put it, I know alcohol is not helping my depression at all. I know alcohol worsens bipolar, even in the relative moderation I drink it in... I know if it wasn't a problem there'd be no trouble giving it up for a year, so that's what I intend to do. A year on Pepsi Cola and tea and chocolate milk.

I'm still sleeping far too long. My head to my dreams dreams 12 hours to 16 hours a night and that's too long. I'm blushing like a babboon's backside over this embarrassment.

If I give up all illicit drugs I may be lucky enough to have a Positive Mood Swing (going UP) but there seems fat chance of that, I feel so sluggish and shamed.

Now I must ping off before this computer really starts misbehaving on me. Good luck to y'all and have a great weekend. And I'm sorry I couldn't find anything furry to post up!

XXXXXXX

I wish I were a pingpong ball...

WOKE UP at 3:30pm today, wishing I was a robo-hammy*. Somehow, if I could curl up, like a furry pingpong ball and have another hamster gnaw my fur for me, it might be OK. In robos being groomed means you are bottom of the pecking-order. I don't care about hierarchy; hamsters don't use heroin. Mass-grooming-wise, robos are the opposite of Russian hamsters, where the youngest smallest one washes the oldest biggest one. The old one died and the young one was there, carefully taking care of his body. It was heartbreaking. When Bashful robo died, Spherical, the last one, kept dragging her body across the cage to put in the nest. I moved it out. She knew this, and dragged it back. Perhaps she was trying to bury it. I kept it in there overnight. Perhaps this gives hamster-closure..?

Well this is crazy. First, on methadone I do not really feel inclined to do anything bar the utmost necessities. This is not what is "supposed" to happen. I thought people on methadone got their lives back. No glimmer of that, so far.

It took me so long to get up I missed Iceland, source of £1.50 Chinese chicken fried rice. So I went to the takeaway for £3, £3.50 mixed vegetable fried rice. It was to go with Iceland £1.50 Satay Chicken Curry. I could have done with a vegetable or two. But: CLOSED! They didn't used to close on Sunday. Maybe somebody has died.
NO!!

Then I hung about on the street corner. No gear! No Chinese!! This is beyond the pale.

I didn't feel cold when I woke up. I am not clucking. The methadone is holding me, though the time was approaching to take a second dose. But I still rang a dealer. I knew he would answer but would have nothing. I know him well enough. Nothing's going on, is it? No mate ~ you know I'll let you know. I know, well, take care. You too mate. Things must be rough! At least he's not trying to sell rubbish.

Dose 2 on methadone is drunk. I'm OK now. I don't get why the urge to use is eating at me. It was doing the same thing on Friday. I didn't score then. I have not tried to score since Wednesday. If I can get today out of the way with I will have spent just £12.50 this week on "B". A record low!

I'm still broke. Food (£40 maybe!!) Socks (£6). Andy Warhol book £10 (and it was 2nd hand! I felt really "clean" devoting this much to an old book!!) Whatever else... O I know what it was!! Cyder at ... quite a lot per day, considering it is 79p a can. My drinking has slidden downwards since the beginning of the week. Very high Monday. (High enough to impair my memory, reading and writing ability considerably.) A bit lower Tuesday... and down down down to maybe four cans yesterday. Every single one was mixed with fruit juice. This lowers to alcoholic content to that of pub beer, about 4.5%. But cocktail is like a very nice alcopop. Highly addictive!

OK I'm not going to any Chinese takeaway now. Something called "chicken tikka lasagne" is in the oven. The Chinese takeaway expedition was partially a mission hoping I might bump into a drugdealer with heroin. (Fat chance of that!) Or "heroin" (higher chance).

I found an article by the way, exploding the myth which anyone who uses will know isn't true, about glass, brick dust, curry powder, bleach in street heroin. To those not involved (good on you!) let me explain: if you smoke it, glass and brick dust will be left behind at the top of the foil. Real heroin runs in lines. It melts and the vapour is inhaled. (Not set on fire, as in smoking a fag.) Curry powder would smell exceedingly strong. Bleach would also reek, and probably go black and smoulder. In a spoon, again glass and brick dust would be left at the bottom. Nothing except truly microscopic particles would get through a filter and into a syringe. The 1ml insulin syringe most addicts use has an integral needle only a THIRD of one millimetre wide on the outside. The passage inside that needle would be minuscule. Curry powder would reek very strongly when cooked up. Bleach would also smell strong, plus it is alkaline and would mess up the reaction with vitamin C or citric acid, which breaks down brown (or occasionally white) base heroin.

Drought-wise, the word here is it's WORSE THAN EVER. Though I just heard from Bristol there's good stuff there. (Will it last?) The news is here.

People using in the 70s always told me you just had to put up with shortages that lasted a couple of days or so. In the 80s after Middle-Eastern "brown" became the norm (imported in much higher quantities than the old "Chinese" gear) there were more users, especially in the north where heroin hit large housing estates for the first time (v early 80s). I was told, incidentally, that because you could chase it from foil, some people really did believe that "brown" was some new kind of hash! Well you believe what you want to believe... Anyway drought-wise, point being, shortages were still more common than they have been lately, though they corrected themselves quickly.

The three great waves of heroin addiction in this country were:
1. late 60s/v early 70s, mostly middle and upper-class bohemian types. Main centre of the trade was in Soho. Also South Kensington (which, if you're reading on distant shores is very posh). Heroin was very much a minority interest. Outside London you'd be very lucky to find it, except perhaps in Liverpool
2. early 80s. Brown didn't hit Britain in any amounts until the Islamic Revolution in Iran (1979). Suddenly it was "all over the place" and people didn't know what to do with it. (Smoking heroin was unheard of, here.) If they couldn't get citric acid, or vit c for injecting, lemon juice was used instead, which really can cause to fungal infection leading to blindness (one rumour that is true)
3. Mid-late 1990s, the price of gear suddenly halved at street level. Bored or frazzled by uppers the rave generation turned to it as a comedown-soother or merely as a new drug. I am of that generation. With "ecstasy" pills appearing in all variations, some rumoured to contain heroin anyway (an almost certain lie). LSD made a resurgence in the early 90s. Cocaine, formerly the "rock star's drug" made its presence felt pretty much everywhere. Used to trying new things, to this generation, heroin seemed a logical next step, to those (like me) who were "just trying it once" for "the experience", then "just trying it again" ... and so on. Curiosity, as they say, killed the cat...

Now one last thing.
UNUSUAL HEROIN WARNING

If this drought doesn't sort itself out, there's a chance that heroin from other parts of the world than Afghanistan might make its presence felt here more than it has done recently.
The stuff I'm talking about particularly would be China White, Colombian White heroin and Mexican Tar.

If you encounter gear that smells of vinegar, it might be one of these.
Heroin comes in three basic forms, depending how far along the manufacturing process it is taken.

~In Britain our heroin is normally heroin base. It's normally brownish, as y'all know. Sometimes known (esp. online) as "Number 3". It smokes well from foil. Injecting this requires addition of a fruit acid, hence citric/vit c. White heroin base is also manufactured, and can be very pure.

~In New York City, and the Eastern United States, as well as Australia and other places the gear tends to vary from a very light blond/yellow/beige colour to pure white. This is heroin hydrochloride, aka "Number 4", designed for snorting or injection more than smoking. "China White" is usually from Burma. Most heroin in NYC is said to originate from Colombia. Cocaine, of course, is Colombia's most famous product = Coke is popular here = Heroin could make its way over in mixed shipments. This type of heroin is EXTREMELY STRONG with purities at manufacture in the high 90%s (good Brown is 70-80%). It can sometimes resemble crack. If it smells of anything, it tends to smell of vinegar. It is mixed cold in a spoon, or gently heated. If it needs vit C, it ain't China White!

~Mexican Tar appeared in Los Angeles in the 1980s. It's black and sticky and heavier than the gear we're used to. Has a strong vinegary smell. The hash-looking stuff we sometimes see is not "tar", which is stickier. Tar is banged up by cooking WITHOUT CITRIC. It's black (or brown) because the Mexicans cut corners in the manufacturing process, swapping chemicals, leaving steps out. UK dealers probably wouldn't know how to cut it, so if it hits the streets, it may do so at import-strength. BE CAREFUL. I have heard you can smoke tar from foil. It may spit and sputter more than ordinary Brown, because it's damper, but it's still supposed to smoke. Far safer than banging this into your veins.

~Lastly there is a gear called MEXICAN BROWN (powder). Smells of vinegar. Said to melt into a tarry substance when hot (e.g. kept all day in jeans pocket, as ordinary B wouldn't). Doesn't require citric for injection. Sometimes snorted. May not smoke anything like as well as our "B".
IF YOU FIND UNUSUAL GEAR, TAKE CARE. GO EASY.

Please don't be tempted to inject, just because something won't smoke. It might not be one of the types of heroin just mentioned. Snorting is safer, but has still killed people. Contrary to popular belief, you can die chasing. A batch of 80% B killed a girl in Bristol in the 90s and she chased the killer dose from foil.

Bear in mind all our tolerances have fallen. Whether using on top of methadone or using just "variable" street gear, if anything of knockout strength comes back, that's what it might do ~ KNOCK YOU DEAD. Please take care.

Hope this isn't too much of a mess. If I edit, I'll never post

Sorry this goes on and on. Emails I should have got to by 9pm. I feel like a dr's surgery. Appointments, appointments. Everything behind time! Thanks for all the comments, I will answer as many as I can ...

*robo-hamsters are the tiniest hamsters in the world and curl up pingpong-ball sized. I used to have them as pets (see below)

MARIANNE FAITHFULL INTERVIEW ~ 1994, her autobiography had just come out

Pets, past and future ~

These are some pets I'd most like to have... and actually have had.

FURRY FRIDAY ON SATURDAY


Akitas are one of the oldest pure-breeds of dog in the world. The American Akita was taken back from Japan by American troops after World War II. It is bigger and furrier than its Japanese counterpart. Whenever I see one down the local park, I want to kidnap it. One came up and stared me right in the eyes. I was down on the grass, so we were eye to eye. She just stared into me. Very intense. Akitas are loyal and dignified and very Japanese. Similar in character to Alsatians or Rottweilers. They are used in Japan as police dogs. I have never heard one bark.


An idea of their size!


The puppies are well known for being savage and wild. This is pretty obvious when you take a look at one:


My favourite little dogs are Norwich terriers. If I got a small dog I wouldn't care too much about breed. The type I'm on about tends to show up in Rescue Home catalogues named "Scruffy". If you've seen "Scruffy", you know the dog I want. Every animal shelter has a Scruffy.


Chinchillas look like rabbits from Mars. They need a big cage, a huge wheel and a "marble", that is, a stone slab you can stick in the freezer for them to lie on in summer. Chinchillas come from the high Andes and do not enjoy temperatures much above 75F, 25C.


The best pets I ever had were roborovski hamsters. These come from Mongolia. They're a totally different breed to ordinary hamsters (2in/5cm fully grown, pingpong ball-sized when curled up). They are the smallest and fastest hammies in the world.


Unlike ordinary hamsters, which fight when kept together, robos are highly social. They sleep in a heap:


They do everything together. But they're easily startled, don't tame at all easily and don't like being handled. They ping off on the floor at the first opportunity, have taken me 2-4 days to recapture. Imagine a wild house mouse on speed and you're still not close! Aren't they cute ...

WISHING Y'ALL A CHARMING WEEKEND. IF IT CAN'T BE CHARMING, THEN MAY IT BE TOLERABLE.

Escaped furry lightning bolt

HERE is yesterday's escaped roborovski story translated into English.
I am going to open a German blog very soon I promise y'all.

When I had roborovski pygmy hamsters, I lost them a couple of times... akh! Two entire days and not a sign ...
Then, after midnight I saw something tiny, like a furry pingpong ball with eyes, that shot across the bedroom like lightning and vanished behind my bed ~ the swine!
Roborovski hamsters are the smallest and fastest hamsters in the world. No wonder I couldn't catch her.
Finally I threw a bedsheet over her. She was extremely unhappy, and went back to bed in the lightbulb box with a thunderous face :-)

The main illustration isn't a roborovski at all, but a cream coloured Syrian hamster, which is about five times bigger... but I just found the picture entertaining...

5am Heroine.

IT IS 05:48 HOURS as I start writing, though I have been musing on what I might say since long back. Outside, on my Turkish Chocolate Biscuit Trip, Flapper, my Giant Tubby Pie Pigeon (who I now know for sure is a wood pigeon, as opposed to the feral town bird, which is a species of rock dove ~ rock doves have iridescent scarves thrown over their shoulders; wood pigeons are clad in matte pastel tones and, as I said before, wear a tiny white cravat. Unlike the plucky rock dove, who we've all seen eating from the hands of French tourists he doesn't even know, I know Flapper, my Pie Dove will never become hand tame. Temperamentally they are the roborovskis of the pigeon world. Untrusting and flighty. Talking of roborovskis, I remember spotting my late three furry pingpong balls asleep in their toothpaste box nest at the time, all looking cute in a row. Unlike other hamsters, who curl into a ball sideways, like a dog or a cat might, robos nearly always sleep on their feet. So that if they are startled they can ping without delay! Anyway I saw the furry swines sleeping peacefully and thought I might surprise them with a tasty nibble for their rodent monoteeth (apparently they only have ONE tooth, top and bottom) so in I poked a "lady's finger" ~ that is a piece of okra or gumbo. O man ~ the commotion! Three tiny balls of fur pinged out the other end of that tube in a furry explosion. You'd think I'd pushed a needle-toothed baby crocodile in after them, snapping at their tubby bums. If they could have done, they'd have waved their hands in the air in horror and cheered, three little drama queens that they were. The reason I've not got any new hammies (apart from that roborovski hamsters are so very hard to find when you want them) is that I'm so terrified of them escaping again. The door to the hallway has a half-inch gap under it. To a little robbie this is as High as the Fourth Road Bridge. In my old house they would go missing for two and three days at a time. Only when I had given up hope of ever seeing each escapee alive again would I suddenly, usually far after midnight, see a furry hallucination silently whizzing across the floor. The ONLY way I ever successfully caught them was by 1. coaxing them into a box or something I could then pick up and deposit back into the robo-tank or 2. throwing a teeshirt or something over them. Even then, if I got my aim spot-on, the tiny terror would be half-over the edge, bulgy-eyed and frozen with fear. Of course, in a situation like that they think a predator has them. Another unique behaviour of robo-hamsters as opposed to "normal" ones was frequent playing dead at times of high stress. Which did look funny sometimes. So from a constantly moving, pinging jamboree of furriness, suddenly the hamster-tank turned into a Madame Tussauds of frozen furry astonishment. Hamsters are exceptionally good at looking surprised.

Now enough about furries. Except to say I actually saw a Norwich terrier yesterday! For the first time in my life. The tiny doggie trotted past me, then away. It was almost like being in the presence of The Queen...

Well it is now a good seventeen hours later. Should I have taken that hit, dripping with syrupy-golden poppy-juice? All it did was make me sleep. And sleep again... My feelings towards this drug ~ heroin ~ and my addiction are split and mixed.

On the one hand I hear my own voice, blithely prattling out the name of the hardest drug known to man. HEROIN. Without saviour of a final softening respectable letter e it's a dirty word, evoking misery, gloom, grunge and despair. Wasted days, wasted years, wasted lives.

And yet Heroin, as trademarked by the German pharmaceuticals firm Bayer in 1898, means strong and brave and heroisch and noble. The fine white lady. My saviour.

My reasons for taking heroin ~ and I mean, for ever wanting to try it, for keeping on trying it. For being attracted to it in the first place. The reasons I was drawn to its narcotic black hole that radiates the glamour of transgression ~ these are all so complicated, I only recently realized I have told myself a Received Version of my own Truth. A convenient Edited Highlights Version, snipped free of inconvenient contradictions and inconsistencies.

It's not so much that Truth Hurts; my truth is very, very complicated.

Heroin saved me. Or I certainly thought it had, for a long time. When I was on heroin I at last had confidence and joy and the love of a relationship with the drug and a human soul-mate.

Years of inadequacy and misery. Years of being someone who never quite fit anywhere, never fitted with himself ~ these dissolved like drops of bright rain streaming down my window. Nothing in the past ever seemed to matter any more. As a druggie high on drugs I was actually able to live in the moment. Past and future were confined to the trash. Little did I realize my life was heading for the garbage can, too.

The most striking difference between me On Heroin and me Before Heroin was, that on heroin I no longer daydreamed at all. The drug was enough of a living daydream. Heroin enlivens and dulls at the same time. It cured all my pain ~ mental, physical ~ everything, for a while. Having endured years of what doctors called Chronic Fatigue and Depression I now felt free.

The last psychiatrist I saw said I was... still AM self-medicating.

He implied that, unlike many other users who use to escape boredom or many other things I wasn't using to escape. I was using as someone incomplete, who with heroin suddenly felt whole. These are my words for his expressions. I think he was right.

From the beginning my interest never was in getting "out of it", being wiped out, unconscious. Heroin gave me an accelerated, brighter better version of me, full of confidence that felt real. Not a jittery turbo-charge like cocaine's counterfeit security. The heroin-state felt totally and utterly real to me. And of course I only wished I could be like that all the time.

In the beginning I WAS like that all the time.

I have been musing deeper and deeper on ... what am I doing? Where shall I go? How did I ever get like this? And how will I ever get out? Do I want to get out?

One thing I've come to accept: methadone treatment is NOT working for me. It is not making me feel OK. Physically (mostly) perhaps, but not mentally. On methadone the depression is so intense sometimes it is unbearable. Methadone is supposed to give addicts a shot at normality. theoretically a well-functioning addict could even hold down a job on methadone. I have never, EVER willingly done ANYTHING on methadone. I sit and sit. i look around at the mess that desperately needs fixing and have no energy for any of it. Nothing changes. Nothing gets done. Since methadone, nothing has improved, except that I have stopped going out making money to pay for gear. But my non-life has slipped into a black hole. Anything I need to do: a dentist appointment, a trip to see my mum, a trip into town ~ I have tried doing these things on methadone, they are heavy, burdensome chores. No matter how much I might "want" to get them done. I very much want to see my Mum, but the process of getting there entails extreme stress. I have tried living on methadone and it just does not work for me.

Now I am realizing there ARE other treatments out there, ones that work. Yet they always seem to be for someone else.

I think I told the story of when someone gave me a bottle of morphine syrup which I drank instead of methadone. I was amazed at how good I felt. I felt absolutely OK and fine. The life-defying dolour of methadone was gone. I am now researching whether my addiction could not be treated perhaps with direct heroin or morphine therapy. The heroin would be injectable or smokeable, morphine would probably come in long-release pills. The deeper I dig, the more disappointed I am, that therapy I know would at least give me a chance has so far been denied me.

I have been on various methadone scripts for over TEN years, I have gone to two detox units but couldn't handle even medication-assisted detox. I have tried Subutex. I have gone cold turkey. The ONLY improvements over ten years have been: 1. I no longer go out "grafting" ~ begging money to get my hit and 2. I now pay bills on time and get in weekly shopping. Not every single penny goes on drugs as it used to. But every spare one still DOES and that's the point.

I used to think and it has been levelled at me, both expressly and in many snidey ways, that I was somehow weak for not being able to go through with, for example a detox where every care was taken to make clients as comfortable as possible. You'll hear the whining junkies in there state "we're all in the same boat"...

But I look back and realize we were NOT all in the same boat. I was the ONLY person awake ALL NIGHT at that place. Nobody else lost half their days a gibbering emotional wreck in the 1-2-1 counselling room. No we weren't in the same boat, not at all. Nobody else I know seems literally to have gone crazy doing cold turkey detox. I was horrified years later to see I had met diagnostic criteria for "mixed bipolar episode" when I tried to come off heroin. Only when I heard repeated stories of people lying in bed for a week, sick, did I realize my experience was totally different. Far from lying down, I couldn't keep still for more than 2 seconds. In both detoxes I got extra meds, which is about as commonplace as a Norwich terrier with wings. I could go on and on. I'm not saying my problems are insurmountable. I'm just saying I feel that STILL ~ after all this time, they have not been properly addressed.

If I felt I could deal with this situation myself, trust me I would just go away and sick it out. but all that is likely to do, in all honesty is put me in a mental hospital if not a morgue. Because I will kill myself. If life is hopeless on drugs, imagine how bleak it feels with no drugs at all?

I can't believe I ever got so dependent. I hate it.

I feel desperate and angry. With myself. With the "system" I've got wrapped up in. With methadone, which I absolutely loathe ~ no question about that. I wish I could actually envision life clean, like those smiling characters who adorn American websites offering high-priced clinic facilities. But I honestly do not see it.

I could talk on and on but I'll only talk round more circles. I have just had enough. But WHAT NOW?



MORE INFORMATION ON SLOW-RELEASE ORAL MORPHINE PILLS: READ TERRY WRIGHT'S AUSTRALIAN HEROIN DIARIES: MORPHINE VS METHADONE UPDATE


WAT THAM KRABOK MONASTERY
Famous Thai vomiting and bitter herbs detox among monks...



NEW FULL-LENGTH DOCUMENTARY at my Random Video Blog: Afghanistan's Fateful Harvest... CLICK TO SEE.

A stab at Dutch...

I'VE HAD A GO at writing bestselling fiction in Dutch... Here, for your entertainment is a story about my late hamsters Pandable and Itchy and the never-existed cairn terrier, Sparky:

Deze ochtend lopen de Syrische hamster Pandable en de roborovski dwerghamster Itchy langs de Vondelstraat. Daar voldoen zij aan de cairn terrier Sparky.
"Goede morgen, hoe gaat het met je?" zegt Pandable.
"Zeer goed, dank je," zegt Sparky. "En hoe gaat het met jou, Itchy. Ben je krank?"
"Och ja!" zegt Itchy. Ik heb mijten in de vacht. Ik ga naar de dierenarts. Ik heb een afspraak om tien uur. Ne hoor! Ik moet nu gaan. Het bont is well jeukende!"
"OK, tot ziens," zegt Sparky.
"Tot later," zeggen Itchy en Pandable.

This is what it actually means. It's all in the present tense to be arty. (Not that I'm unable to use the past tenses in Dutch or anything...!)

This morning, Pandable the Syrian hamster and Itchy the roborovski pygmy hamster are trotting down the Vondelstraat (in Amsterdam). There they meet Sparky, the cairn terrier.
"Good morning, how are you?" says Pandable.
"Very well, thank you," says Sparky. "And how are you, Itchy? Are you ill?"
"Oh yes," says Itchy. I have mites in my coat! I am going to the vet's. I have a ten o'clock appointment. Now I must go, my fur is well itchy!"
"OK, see you later," says Sparky.
"Later," say Itchy and Pandable.

I ran it through Google translate, which produced this masterpiece!

This morning walk Pledges Able Syrian hamsters and dwarf hamsters along the Itchy Vondelstraat. Then they meet the cairn terrier Sparky.
"Good morning, how are you?" Able says Gage.
"Very well, thank you," says Sparky. And how are you, Itchy. Are you sick? "
"Oh yes!" Itchy says. I have mites in the fur. I go to the vet. I have an appointment at ten o'clock. Ne hear! I must go now. The fur is well itchy! "
"OK, goodbye," says Sparky.
"Later," said Able Property and itchy.

Sopranos Dairy-Mouse Tune ...

NOT A HUGE AMOUNT to say today... my actual post is trapped somewhere cyberlike half-done until tomorrow... I was writing about the future of the English language so you can either sigh with relief at being spared THAT one a day longer, or piss your pants in anticipation. Ooer!!

Here's a video from Marianne Faithfull ~ I really like this tune, it is from the "ovular" (non-un-a-politically-differently-incorrect (is that arcane enough? surely I'm PC now!!) contemporary way of saying "seminal"... it's from Faithfull's seminal 1979 LP BROKEN ENGLISH...

TAKE A WALK AROUND TIMES SQUARE...

MARIANNE FAITHFULL: TINES SQUARE
Set to videomontage...





I WAS SHOCKED, in a 4am rerun of Sopranos on Channel 4 (why did no-one tell me how good it was ~ I thought that show was daft comedy which is why I never bothered watching 1st time round, I mean what else can a man be, whose name is "Mr Soprano"..? Not a father, for one thing... I mean, surely, a male soprano is by rights a EUNUCH!!...

Anyway I was watching the episode where Tony Soprano's associate gets married and can only attend his own daughter's wedding on bail if he pays $400,000 for US Marshals to be at the reception with metal detectors and all...

... when I heard strains of one of my OWN SONGS being sung to the cutting of the wedding cake!
I don't think Andrew Lloyd Webber will be shaking in his boots, but this IS one of my most famous Hamster Songs ~

This is the song I used to sing Baby Itchy Roborovski when she was pinging up the clingfilm tube, popping out the other side looking "surprised" ~ as hamsters are so wont to do ...


Itchy's covred in fur
Itchy's covered in fur
She's a tubby dairy mouse ~
and she's covered in fur..!

How on earth did Hollywood TV producers get hold of my work?!?







IT'S ALL GONE PETE TONG
rhyming slang: "it's all gone wrong"...
Pete Tong was a BBC Radio 1 DJ, famous for his Friday Night dance-music round-up...
I've seen the film ~ the story is too true ~ set on the "British" party isle of Ibiza, it tells what happens when it really does all go "Pete Tong"....



GREGORIAN: VOYAGE VOYAGE
Here is a Gregorian chants version of yesterday's top tune by Desireless...
... ever so French!!



A no-nonsense video-edit of the same:



DJ YAHEL: VOYAGE (TIESTO REMIX)
This is a bit chilled out for my taste... and it's another tune entirely... but it's quite nice





What a charming little ro-ro!


Stop Press: $1800 for a baby Norwich terrier?... What planet are these people on?...
The United States of America!

PS: No Norwich terriers to be found this side of the Pond, but Norfolks are about £400, which would be $600. Look at this tiny trotter! Is it because American breeders are trying it on..? Or are the tiny terriers cheaper here because they're indigenous to this island and thus more widely available..? What do you think..?




THE HUNGARIAN MUDI
A rare Central European herding dog...
Anyone ever seen one of these? They seem even rarer than the elusive Norwich terrier!

Here's a blue-eyed huskie named Thunder having a little bay on his 4th birthday... and even doing some tricks!

New Pets Soon

I WAS hoping to post something deep and meaningful here, but whatever it was has gone from my mind.

You know I stopped feeling depressed totally for a time!! But now the tide is turning. I sleep suspiciously long hours (always a warning). And have nightmares. The night before last I dreamt I was escaping from a Thai prison (too much Midnight Express/Bangcock Hilton I think...)

Bangcock Hilton Customs Scene:
Nicole Kidman acts out every tourist's worst nightmare...



Bangcock Hilton: trip to prison:
The nightmare gets worse...



Bangcock Hilton is a famous Australian-produced mini-series from 1989, starring a very young Nicole Kidman as the poor kid duped into carrying 140g of "number four" heroin out of Thailand...

If you want to see Bangcock Hilton in its entirety, click here ~ running time over 2 hours, so you've been warned!



There are all sorts of animals I would LIKE to keep, but cannot for practical reasons: Akita-doggies are prone to bark, and need lots of grooming and expensive food (I'm not feeding my animals rubbish). Mars-rabbits, better known as chinchillas, are exceedingly cute, but need a huge cage that you cannot hide...

Now I'm seriously thinking of getting some new robbies, but before I do, posthumous honours must be bestowed on the old lot. Aristocratic titles are usually associated with British towns, so Itchy-san will be The Donkey of Derby (where else?!), Bashful-san ~ who so loved biting me in life ~ can be Nibbleswine of Nottingham in death. And Spherical-sensei (sensei is a more honorific suffix than san, so the name means something like Dr Spherical) is posthumous Trotter General of the Western Isles... That sounds very royal because the Royals are well into Scotland (I think this has to do with retaining a toehold when the future United Kingdom breaks to smithereens, as I would not put it past it to do...

In case any of you don't know, Roborovski hamsters are the tiniest, pingiest hamsters in the world... This picture here gives a good sense of scale compared to the human hand. The tubbiest one here is fully-grown:



Roborovskis are the most social of all hamster species. Their behaviour often mirrors that of others in the group, deliberately or unconsciously:



These tiny animals have huge appetites. You needn't worry about rotting their teeth with sugary treats, as the teeth grow out. Though too much sugar isn't good for their general health (but they love it!) ~ I wouldn't feed even five trotters a biscuit this big ~ about 1" diameter:



And like many small animals, they frequently rotate nests, perhaps having four or five on the go at any one time and show a distinct proclivity for sleeping in what seems to us some slightly bizzarrre places:



Sarcastic Bastard I cannot get through to your blog ~ the internet caff has seen fit to bar access!!

A Perky Hello!

FROM the roborovskis and me, while I still tap in an extraordinarily long post about my own depression that won't be finished till tomorrow afternoon... Till then, keep smiling!!

:-)...

Donkey Derby II

THE CUTE fuzzy old donkeys are raring to go:



And they're off!



Giddy up now, you swine!



Approaching the finish line...
(It was a long race: note how the riders have aged)



And the winner is:



"We came last in the donkey derby!"
"And we're covered in fur!!"



"I can't run very fast either!"



"But you've got longer legs than us!!!!"