Scartissue

I'm always eluding to the big surgical scar on my arm from having that abscess removed, so I was taking pictures so I took a pic of my arm (the flash kept turning my arm this glowing white, haha, I'm soooo white, it's almost not funny). Obviously, all of you wish that you could have one too, something so fashionable and... pink! Haha it still hurts like a motherfucker, I think they fucked with the nerves in there or something. So, yeah, now that I've blogged 4 times today (I'm a bit bored, if you haven't noticed). I really am going to bed. = )

Lust for Life

I was just thinking about something:

I was watching Trainspotting the other night for probably the hundreth time (I can repeat all the lines... haha, I'm a nerd, okay?) and I thought about when he's walking into the bathroom. Everyone is apparently staring at him. I feel like this is such a real portrayl, whenever high I feel like everyone I pass knows it and is staring at me and thinking, "You junky. You're high! I can tell!" It happened at the festival on sunday, I was walking towards the main area and everyone I passed was just completely staring at me, in the city too, almost anywhere it seems like. Now, I know it's nuts, I know that that's not really the case. But, I was just kind impressed with how true to life that is...

= )

Clash City Rockers

We walked through the village, it looked somewhat like the park on East 15th St and 3rd Ave. My parents and I... going to cop dope? In front of a building there was the smell of lighter fluid and metal burning, so we walked in to this apartment. I only had enough money for one bag, but my parents bought 3 (why they were there I don't really know). The room was dark and caste in a green light, small, dark, and green. I didn't have any works, so the girl who was there took this needle she had and gave it to me. It was filled with what looked like fat I've seen on plastic surgery shows, after they've sucked it out of some rich person's stomach. I got into the bathroom - it was fluorescent lit like at McDonald's - and flushed the think pink-white paste out of the needle. I looked down at my left arm - it had not scar in my dream - and it was so milky white. I did what I used to always do - I checked to make sure I could hit a vein before cooking up. (My veins are either A) tiny, B) hidden, C) covered in scar tissue from surgery, or D) rolling - my veins suck so much) I hit it right on the first try, without even pulling back I saw blood flow into the tip and fill it dark red. (I used to try and hit it first so that I wouldn't have cooked up and be unable to use the solution, which had on more than one occasion made me cry - fuck, haha, ridiculous but true)

Then I woke up.

I hate dreams like that, so real that you can taste the food and feel the drugs. That happiness you feel as you receive the drugs, a pleasure that you wake wanting more of. Most of my drug dreams revolve around me receiving drugs from other people - some of the time as gifts, once they were falling from the sky (I kid you not). Today during lunch Nina took me out to her car, she was giving me the weed. She didn't have a bag for me, so she rolled up the nugget in a piece of paper, which I then shoved into this plastic shopping bag in my car. The entire bag smelled of weed when I got back to my car 3 hours later. The stuff is so good, it's kind of ridiculous. It looked kind of small, she told me that it looked small but that it was just packed tightly. I don't think Nina would rip me off, though, I trust my friend's loyalty in matters like this just as much as my own... which is occasionally not very much. But, that whole thing has little do with friendship and more to do with drugs and economics. If your friend rips you off you can't take it so personally, I mean, it's fucked up, but not surprising. Your friend and your drug dealer are two different people, so you can't expect the business woman and the friend to act the same way. At least, that's what I tell myself.

Today was okay, I took a quiz in English that I didn't even know we had, I think I at least got a B. I'm more worried about my stat test, though I'm sure that I at least got a B. Nothing much happened today. I talked to Ashley, she says that I can't come over until her mother approves the list. That will be interesting, I really am interested in seeing this group home - I can't help being curious. I had a guitar lesson, which was okay, not amazing, but not horrible. I have dinner tonight for Rosh Hashanah with my parents and my grandmother (happy new year, everyone!) That will be good - well at least good food.

I got out of the car from guitar and I vomitied in my mouth, it was weird because I so wasn't expecting it and my next thought was, "just don't completely vomit." I wonder what it's all about, but I'm sure it's nothing serious.

Anyway, I'm going to lie down. Happy New Year! = )

Acid Rain

It's a torrential downpour outside, I can hear it from my bed. I'm being very lazy this morning, I've been up for about 2 hours and done nothing but eaten a little and sat up in bed and read. My life is just so exciting obviously. I don't know if I'm going to go the festival today, I may just lay around all day, work on the essay due for tomorrow, read, do some more homework, and maybe play cards with some of my neighbors. Doesn't that sound kinda lovely? Well, to me it does. I have tuesday off, which is another lovely fact. Tomorrow night I have to go to my grandmother's house for Rosh Hashanah, that's always fun, if there isn't any fighting. There has always been fighting at family dinners like that, I remember one year my grandfather told my father that he was not a good father. My dad got so angry that we all had to leave. I don't know why my grandfather thought that, though I probably agree with him. Not that my grandfather was really good, but that's a long story.

I just had to run to the bathroom, my stomach is... cleansing itself. I have been "stopped up" for a few days and I took a laxative. Which is a fucking horrible idea, but at least my stomach doesn't hurt too bad... The thing is that laxatives never work properly on me, it will take way longer than it's supposed to take effect and when it does I can be sick up for close to 3 days. I don't know why I decided that it was brilliant, but I did take one last night. Holy fuck, that was a bad idea, haha. Well, whatever, I'll just deal with it, it was dumb, but once it's over I'll probably feel better.

I'm thinking about buying some weed from Nina, I'm thinking like $10 or $20. I should text her about that, see if she has enough. I have a feeling it will be fine, but I have to talk to her about it today, otherwise I won't get it until Wednesday, and I definitely want it for Tuesday. Without any school I need something for my brain to do. She should have the same stuff as Lauren, so it'll be a good deal.

Yesterday was so nice, though I felt a little out of it until I went to sleep. Usually I feel like it wears off after a while and then I go back to normal, but yesterday it just kept hitting me in waves. I tried to sleep on the sofa but I kept getting ousted by people, which was annoying. I kept having to remind myself that I was doing shit, and opening my eyes. It's that point in time when my eyelids feel as if someone has put glue on the bottom of them, and every time they close I have to struggle to open them again. I'm trying to untangle the events of yesterday, but I really can't, my mind feels so confused. My parents were gone, I was in the sofa and I was watching TV, I kept nodding out and then realizing what I was doing and opening my eyes. They came home and I sat with them for a while, and then Sam came over. Sam and I just shot the shit for a while, discussed Lauren (fuck, that's all that we seem to talk about, all of us), discussed college, watched dumb youtube videos, and baked cookies. I know all of that happened, but the stuff earlier in the day is just like snapshots of time, not really true stuff. Oh yeah, I took a shower in there somewhere, too, totally forgot until a few seconds ago. My rents also brought me home food from a diner, haha, I do remember more now.

"7 Tattoos" is so good, I've devoured it, I've got about 70 pages left. So good, but it has made me wonder something: Did everyone in NYC during the 70s become speed freaks? Every book I read where someone is doing drugs in the city and is alive in the 70s ends up becoming a speed freak. I guess, he was actually a dopefiend during the 70s, and was actually a speed freak in the late 60s. It's weird though, it just seems like everyone was doing speed. Maybe it's just cause the books I'm reading are about drug addicts... couldn't be... = P

Well, I'm off, this was a boring  post.. Nina still hasn't texted me back. Butt slut. Haha, I'll catch you on the flip side. = )

Could this be a country at war?

I laid on my back and rubbed my stomach. The warmth of the old cotton t-shirt I had slept in. I felt like a cat having it's belly rubbed as it lay in a warm spot of sun: content. As I sit up the world begins to move in a weird way and a smile spreads on my face. My mind swims and I want to run through the neighborhood and shout the praises of opiates. I want to scream it to anyone. I feel better, so much better, I think I must be the winner of the world, haha. X plays in my iPod, it's a perfect gray morning. My collarbone itches and itches, I lazily scratch it and I feel amazing. Closing my eyes I feel better. I feel better. I'm reading "7 Tattoos" by Peter Trachtenberg. I love it! I started reading it before I was high, so it's not just the high. It's so good, possibly because we have similar lives or just because it's a fucking excellent book. X continues to serenade me, I'm listening to the album "Hey Zeus!" which is from the early 90s (1993?). I don't think many people know it, but it's very excellent for a gray morning, kind of dark, but good. APPLE kind of reminds me of this album, they have similar sounds. I probably need a shower. I probably need some food. I should fry an egg and make some toast. Suddenly, I'm famished. I bought lucky charms on thursday, I could have some of that too. I should call Anthony later and make sure everything is cool with him, apologize for being annoying. I'm thinking about going over to the festival early on Sunday, like 10 a.m.. He's getting there at 8 a.m. because he's working the radio station's booth. He promised that he would hang out with me for some of that time, I wish he was here. He's so sweet to me. He seemed really happy yesterday, even though we get no time alone (I'm a 17 year old, okay, do you remember being 17? Okay, well, then you understand why we need some time alone, not in school... haha, seriously, though, it's pissing me off) just hanging with him make me happy. We have really ridiculous conversations, we're two good friends if nothing else. I'm so happy, fuck, I wish I could wrap up this feeling of happiness and sip it everyday, just a little. I wish it wasn't chemical, I wish it was just in me, and sometimes it is. In the city it comes out. Walking down the street with the VU playing on my iPod and it's this amazing feeling of contentedness. The city... okay, so here's my biggest problem with the city: me. I have very little experience with dealers, most of the ones I've met have been people I've been friends who were making a little side business, not real dealers. So, to go and have to find one, I mean, I just feel like a dumbass, ya know? It's like I need an instruction manual. I'm good at meeting people and making friends and fitting in fairly well, that's the only good quality that I have in this. Talking to people doesn't bother me, it's more the right people. Fuck, well, I'll just figure it out, I'll eventually meet someone, it's not that hard. Haha, I don't really give a fuck right now. = )

BTW, you need to listen to these two songs: "Baby You Lied" and "Country at War" by X, it's from "Hey Zeus!" They are both excellent songs! = )

It's not a microphone, it's a bong

Justin turned 39 yesterday, that number makes me feel so young. I reminded him that he was 22 when I was born, how creepy. Justin is so old, but I have the biggest crush on him, I can't help it, I get all puppyish around him. Everything he says is like amazing, his band is my favorite, and he's so cute, especially when he's drunk. I don't think about him like that that much... but I mean, he is hot and awesome, haha. Every 39 year old should have some 17 year old lusting after them, if there isn't one then that means you're old. = P

Guess what?!?!? I got my first A in Latin in the past year!!! A 97!!! Only one point off the entire quiz, holy fuck I feel brilliant. = D To celebrate this I got supremely blazed right after school. I went to Lauren's house right after school, whatever she had after the first bowl, I was kinda high. Then we smoked another and I was fucked. She walking into the house and I was looking at her foot, and I swore I saw like yellow liquid come out of her foot and become a droplet on the floor. Her house was also filled with food, we had not idea why, it was so weird (her house never has anything). We took all of these cracked out pictures with the food on her kitchen table. She even let me eat two Cosmic Brownies (my personal favorite, if you know the brand then you understand, I think they are really only stoner food though). I can still fucking feel the shit, I've been feeling very very high all night. It's lessened to the point where I just feel a bit funny now, but I mean, what kinda weed lasts for 8 hours? One thing I have noticed on my exploits to Brooklyn, is that all of the kids there are really lame at smoking. I was taught that you better suck on that pipe until you feel like you're going to explode, and I always hold until at least the person after me is done. Those kid would like inhale for a second and then immediately let it out, I said to Tanzen, "You smoke so daintily." Then again, my first real high moment was at the hands of Nina and Lauren, who stuck me in Nina's shed until we'd smoked probably 6 bowls and her hat was changing colors. That was the most amazing thing, her hat was fucking incredible. We then rolled in the grass and I felt like the sky was really close to me, like I was in a fish-eye camera lens. Haha, that was my first experience being stoned out of my head on weed, my friends like to call me "hard-body" because I smoked as much as they did but I was never as high. That's why I was forced into the shed, and forced to smoke. I think like the last two bowls was me smoking and them standing over me, going "keep going, Lucy, keep going. Come on, you can do it!" Haha, it was like some weird coaching moment, I'm sitting on the floor of her shed trying to get high as fast as I can. I have to say, some of my best memories of my friends have been moments like that, ridiculous times and situations, but we were all so close. We were all really good friends. I really do think there is something fucked up with my tolerance for everything, I've always had a higher tolerance for things than the people around me, it's annoying as fuck. Anytime I've had to dose for the first time it's always iffy, because I never know if it's really going to hit me or if it won't even affect me. It sucks, then again I think it just runs in my family. My cousins have always said, "Your dad can drink Guinness like it's water." Haha, it always made me kinda proud in a weird way, like proud that I have those same genes, and when it comes to that kind of stuff I should be proud. My dad is a genius and good at everything he's ever tried: lettered in 8 sports in high school, straight A student, scored a 1540 on his SATs, amazing jewelry maker and artist, was always able to get women; my dad is just a beast at life. That's I guess what I don't like about his current state, how awesome he once was is now gone, now he sucks at everything. I feel bad, I just want to keep him in that state of awesomeness.

My throat is dry, my mind is bored. I have so much homework this weekend, I can't even believe it. My teachers are fuckers on a major scale, what the fuck is wrong with them? Well, whatever, Anthony is annoying me and I think I pissed him off a bit. I kinda bitched at him for not being able to hang out outside of school, which I know is his parents' fault, but I just can't deal with it. I felt bad afterwards, because I know it's not his fault, but fuck, we need to hang out not in school. Anthony was put on ADD meds even though he doesn't have it, I told him he seemed happy and he said he was on this ADD medication. Haha, I asked him, "so, how's the speed? Are you doing drugs child? I'm going to have to slap you upside your head!" Radio show was good today, life will be good tomorrow. I just want to play Scrabble with Anthony, gosh darn it.

I finished "Beam Me Up, Scotty," which was so good. Whether someone is sober or enjoying the high life, it still works. It almost made me want to clean up my act... almost. Ashley doesn't know when I'm going to be able to come to her group home, but I'm kinda psyched. Sweet kid, I feel bad, sobriety is going to end soon for that one. When she gets out you can just hear it in the way she speaks. I figure that forced sobriety never works, you have to really want it. I was high last night, and it felt so right, it made me feel so much better. Man, this weed is making me so tired, 8 hours later you'd assume I'd be fine, but my head feels so tired. I'm going to bed, night night all you cyber junkies. = )

BTW, if you tell me who wrote the song the post is named after, I'll be forever impressed.

I'm Set Free

I laid in the bed and stared at the blue ceiling. Tanzen walked out of the room and into the bathroom. I could see Rosie across the room on her bed. The pull out bed I'm sleeping on is dipped in in the middle, so I've slid into the center. Tanzen comes back. "Do you have any mouthwash?" The taste of stale tobacco and weed has dried out my mouth and left me feeling like I need a shower. "Yeah, there's some in there." I walk into the bathroom and latch the door behind me. It's perfect and dirty. The blue tiles are chipped, the mirror is covered in spots from toothpaste that missed the sink. I stand in front of the mirror and look at myself. For a second I think I should thank her for the bed. Then I realize that that's a dumb thought, she's my friend, she wants me to stay over. I look around the bathroom, through the disposable razors and half empty bottles, I see one bottle of mouth wash on the counter. It looks about 2 years too old. As I stare down at my toes I see one laying under the sink. I pick it up and unscrew the cap. The inside of the cap is stained partially brown, so I swig some from the bottle. I swish it in my mouth for 30 seconds and spit. I stare at myself again. My greasy mohawk is hanging down over the right side of my face. I continue to scope out the room, sizing up things in it, looking for anything that might be of use to me. Nothing. I realize what I'm doing and think about it. Nothing. It doesn't bother me. I see a bottle of half used cough syrup, eye make up remover, nothing worth my time. I step out of the bathroom and close the white door, it's paint peeling. Tanzen is tying her shoes and looks up at me as I sit down and begin to lace up my boots. As we walk to the subway we raise the same discussion as always: me. I begin talking about sobriety, cleaning up my act, or at least having more self control. She nods and smiles, interjects occasionally with nothing much to say besides the regular things. We walk into the subway and our conversation continues. I lean against the big beam next to the track, my shoulders resting on orange tile. I feel bad, but not really. I feel like I should feel bad, like I should shut up before something bad happens. We get on the train and two stops later, after a few more hushed words, we hug and Tanzen hops out. I ride the train in silence and I think about it all, turning it over in my head. The Velvet Underground keeps playing in my headphones, I keep repeating the song "I'm Set Free" and "Jesus." My stomach pops and pumps, sharp pains run up and down, from my rib cage to my hip bone. My entire digestive tract digesting itself. When I get home I feel excited as I work on the common application, as if it will change my entire life. As if I will become a new human being, a new life form, when college hits. It washes all feelings of hopelessness. I will be set free.

That's what happened on Sunday. Today was a pretty good day, I had 3 tests, which weren't that bad. I think I'll get at least a B or A on Environmental Science, it was pretty simple. I'm shooting for an A on my Latin quiz, I really felt like I Aced it! I've become so content with Cs in that class, it had almost stopped phasing me, but I feel really good about it. Afterwards my teacher and I discussed a paper I wrote over the summer, and this kid Ian started talking about his love life. I also learned in Latin today, how to say "a man who forces oral sex on others:" irrumator. We translated it as, "face rapist." Haha, that was a pretty excellent part of today. Last block I had a test in European history, it was actually on the Cold War. I don't know how well I did, my essay was okay, but the multiple choice section was hard.

Tomorrow I have a test in English and then I have a test in Statistics on Friday. I have an essay due on Monday, a test in Latin on Wednesday. Fuck, do they hate us or what? Today I'm hoping that Lauren will still want to hang, I just need to do something with my brian. I figure, if you ask a stoner to smoke, they won't turn it down. That's what I need right now, just something to ease the tension in my head. I haven't hung with Lauren in a few weeks, hence there has no complaining about her being a bitch lately. She's kinda been codependent on Nina, which is freaking all of us, including Nina, out. Lauren is going to have a hard time during college. She's been fucking with her own morals (her parents are alcoholics and she said she would never drink, but she ended up getting smashed multiple times during the summer for the first time). At least I never had any moral qualms with any drug, haha, I'm pretty equal opportunity. I think that's also worrying people, I have a feeling that once we all leave and she is left to her own devices she will get into hard drugs. Her family is made up of alcoholics and dopefiends, those genes aren't helping her at all.

I had counseling today at school. This woman named Karen pulled me out of study block to go talk to her in this closet (trapped in a closet with Karen, haha). She's nice, and she lets me play my iPod, what could be bad about that? I've said to much, fuck, she was asking me about the books I've been reading lately. Well, I didn't know what to say, almost every book I read is about drugs, so it's not like I could lie that easily. So, I started talking about "Beam Me Up, Scotty" and then for some reason we get onto Irvine Welsh and I recommend "Ecstasy." She asked me what it was about, "It's about ecstasy." "I'm beginning to see a pattern here." What the hell? I hope she doesn't drug test me. Speaking of drug tests, I filled out that form for Ashley, so I'll probably going to see her on Friday or Thursday at the group home. I'll be her first guest, which is a nice gesture. She's a nice kid, not the smartest, not the funniest, but we get along pretty well and we just mainly gossip and tell stories about our pasts. It will be interesting, apparently there's a lesbo there who is going after her. And on friday I'm doing Anthony's radio show again, just him and me, his friends were coming up, but they aren't now. It'll be fun, I like doing that. I'm going to bring some CDs or whatever, so that he'll play them.

We have to pretend to be having a wedding in health class, and I picked our wedding song, "Fall in Love With Me" by Iggy Pop. I figured that it's pretty good, I'd do that as my first dance, haha. My group is 4 girls, me, Nora (who I'm friends with), Maria (I kinda know her), and Laura (I kinda know her, too). It's funny, it's like a big lesbian polygamist wedding. Nora is taking charge of the wedding, but she's going to give us a little bit of say in the dress and some other things. I don't know why we do this, I feel like we should be doing something more important than this, but whatever. We get to watch intervention in health class, which is always entertaining. The teacher, Ms. Geary, really likes me, which is cool, it means that she's always nice to me. Health class = easy and awesome.

Well, I must be off, I have to translate Latin and take notes on this chapter for European history. Oh, joy of joys! = )

Junkfood Junkie

I stepped over the puddle of spit on at the top of the landing. My Vans hit the floor as I trudged down the back stair case, squeaking on the maroon step coverings. It's my school. It really is my school. I rubbed the back of my neck where the hair is short and thought about how I fit in. My friends were all sitting outside the stairs and I wandered over to them. Anthony was sitting with his back to the wall. I sat next to his legs and rest my back on them. Alexis was sitting in front of me studying Latin. It's just a regular day in any regular high school. My friends were not high when I saw them after lunch, I was surprised. I need to get high. The idea floats into my head. I need to get high. My head starts to hurt and all I want to do is lie down. I role my head onto Anthony's knees and close my eyes. He agrees that he too wants a nap. I wander the halls everyday and feels eyes stare into my back and my head, my crappy clothes and dirty backpack. 

Being a junky in high school is like going through a mind fuck everyday. So, not only do you hate yourself because all teenagers do, all you can think about is drugs. I hate myself, I hate my teachers, I hate dumb assignments and tests, and all I want to do is get high. I remember I used to watch the clock ticking down the seconds. That sick feeling in my gut, screaming for the bell to ring. Sitting on top of the toilet lid in the dark bathroom. Prepping the shot, cooking and thinking nothing. All thoughts are about the drug, the arm, the needle. You stare at your arm and pull white from blue, it becomes a map towards a high. I miss those days. I miss the purpose I felt knowing that every action was leading up to a goal. Biting into leather and seeing the teethmarks appearing. White crust of saliva from the previous days, on a black belt. I remember shooting blood on the ceiling, dropping a blood filled spoon on the carpet. I remember crying when unable to hit a vein anywhere. That's what I remember most. I remember the sadness without a hit. I miss it, I mourn it, every time I get high now I think about iving. It's weird, for months and months I didn't even care, didn't think about the needle. Now it's all flooded back. I want to get high. I need to get high. I don't care about all the 90s I've gotten on tests, how happy I feel after that, I need drugs. I like drugs. Because I think too much without drugs, my mind is off in outerspace freaking out. My mind needs downers.

Anyway... today was okay. I have 3 tests tomorrow and homework, so I'm going to go study and work and not get high.

BTW, everytime I want to get high now and I can't I just eat. I'm "stuffing my feelings" with food, but if it gets my cravings to chill then I'm cool. Also, apparently the biggest druggy I know has been clean for 3 months, which is depressing. Now how can I make fun of her??? = P

Catch ya on the flipside! = )

I'm Waiting for the Man

Saturday Morning:

I'm going into the city in two and a half hours. At the moment, I'm all dumb and in love. Haha, oh my god, that's all I can say. I'm feeling very girly right now, so you'll have to excuse all the dumb shit I may say today... I just can't help it! = )

So, yeah, Anthony and I... omg, I really do think I love him. I know, I know, I sound like every 17 year old, okay, but here's the thing: I've made sure never to say that unless I really believed it, and so I never have. I know that lots of teenagers say it to whoever they date, but not I. He is amazing. We couldn't hang out yesterday and so as I'm driving by where he's standing a block away from the school I pull over. His mother calls, which basically results on him shouting into his phone. I really thought he was going to smash it, he was so pissed off at her. Anyway, she was being a bitch and not letting him come over to my house. So, I made the decision to go with him to the radio station. We hung out with everyone, which involved fixing a mixing board for a good two hours and just generally hanging around. Then, around 4:45 he realized that he had his radio show that day. What the fuck? I thought it was starting next week. Hold on, let me call my parents. "Anthony, this is really good then we can hang until 7." So, I became his radio assistant, he allowed me to pick some songs and he picked some of my favorites:

-The Passenger - Iggy

-Cretin Hop - Ramones

-Beat My Guest - Adam and the Ants

-Drive My Car - The Beatles

-Search and Destroy - Iggy

and more. He looked so in control, flicking the switches shuffling through PSAs and Promos that he had to do. Whenever he had to go on air he would get all nervous and stutter a little, but it was cute. And then when we finally had to leave, he kissed me and then gave me a hug. Haha, omg, I really do love him. Holy FUCK!!! Haha, I wish he was here right now. That's the only thing I can think when he's not around. I was thinking about it in the studio how I would get clean for Anthony, I really would. I've been really dumb and been listening to my favorite dumb love songs. Yes, I am a girl, I am 17, and yes I do have a playlist of all of my favorite dumb love songs. Oh, Anthony... Damn, I wish he was here. = )

The city will be fun today. We're going to go book shopping, one for my dad, a few for me. Tanzen wants to buy a bong (after 3 months of planning on it). So, it shall be an interesting day. My house is freezing at the moment, so I hope outside isn't as cold. My dad turned off the AC (Iuppiter!), but no heat so I woke up and was like Oh my god... why is it so cold? This feels like December. Even with the heat on our house is freezing in December and January. I figure I'll wear my Misfits shirt, my a pair of jeans, my docs, probably my main jacket

Sunday night:

The story of the rest of saturday is pretty long, but I'll try to sum it up as best I can. Tanzen and I met at Union Square. We went to Strand and bought some books about junkies (I had a list of books that I wanted). Afterwards we went to lunch at this place called Moonstruck on 3rd Ave and East 5th Street. Her friend Sean meets us, who wants to go cop weed uptown. He can't remember the name he gave the dealers on his phone, so as we eat he sorts that out. The guy he thinks is the best is not picking up and not returning the texts he keeps sending from Tanzen's phone. Finally he decides we'll just go meet the other guy, who apparently skimps on the amounts. As we're walking towards the subway the guy he really calls Sean. He almost began to dance in the middle of the sidewalk as he answered the phone. We hopped on the subway (I loudly protested going to get the wed, stoners in general, and me having to pay money for the subway). They both coughed up money for me riding the subway (if you're going to drag me to cop drugs than you're going to pay for the subway ride... haha). We get into Grand Central Station and we walk out of the terminal. After Tanzen goes to pee and we find a way out, we begin to walk over. My boot begins to hurt my leg, it's pinching the tendon on the side of my leg. So, we continue on, I stop every few steps and rub my leg or express the pain that feels like a hot knife being shoved into my leg. When we reach where we're supposed to meet the guy we don't see him. He calls Sean and tells him to meet him up a street. I sit on the scaffolding that happens to be there. This fat half-Japanese, half-white kid walks up. He has black ringlets sprouting under a backwards baseball cap. His body is covered in a black sweatshirt with a dragon embroidered on the back. Two goons, who happen to be his friends, just walk up the block past us. I had a feeling that they were most likely muscle, just the way they appeared. Tanzen and I stand on the corner as Sean and Tommy (the dealer) walk down the street and exchange green for green. Sean meets up with us and Tommy continues strolling down the street, his friends have walked up the street past where we had all stopped. As quickly as the deal had gone down, we now walked down the streets at a clip. After some persuasion I decided to stay the night in Brooklyn with Tanzen and get "smoked up." Tommy keeps calling Sean, so Sean refuses to pick up because he isn't really excited about the news. After we get about 5 blocks away he finally picks up one of the calls. Apparently he owes another $10 or some of the weed. Sean isn't sure whether to split or meet up with Tommy. Our vote decision is: RUN! Haha, we begin to jog pretty quickly down the streets towards Grand Central, which of course is where the expect us. Tommy is right in front of us suddenly and him and Sean walk down the street. Tanzen and I stand around the corner in front of a glass storefront. We can't see what's going on, but our first instinct is to see if Sean is getting beat up. Suddenly, Tanzen and I scurry behind them and sit beside them as Tommy takes some of the weed. Sean and Tommy slap hands in a "everything is cool" kinda way and we walk off.

Sean needs to go weigh out the weed to divide it up equally between him and Tanzen, so we have to go to his house. Instead of all of us getting out of the subway and having to pay again, Tanzen and I sit on a bench in the subway and I read to her from a book called "Beam Me Up, Scotty." It's about a crackhead, and it's amazing! I love this book, I was worried I would hate it because it was about crack, but it's actually really good. It's also about him getting sober. It's set on the LES, so I know everywhere that they keep talking about. I like that because most books are about places I've never been to, but this is somewhere I have my own thoughts about everywhere he's running. Anyway, after a half an hour Sean reappears and we get back on the subway and walk to Tanzen's house. Sean takes a cigarella he has, he takes the brown paper from the outside and uses it to rap up this giant blunt. As we sit in Tanzen's house, Tanzen and I have to breathe on the paper to keep it moist. 

Finally, we get out of there and walk over to Prospect Park to meet up with Sean's friend Jacob. After meeting up with Jacob, one of those moments where you shake hands are told each other's names and think to yourself "this information will never help me, but I'll take it anyway." We wait for another 3o minutes until we can go to his other friend Nahim's house, which is right down the street. We have to sneak down behind his house through this alleyway and into the back of his basement. After about 5 minutes of us just waiting there Nahim appears. We smoke it all and the 3 foot by 7 foot room is filled with white smoke. This is supposed to be purple kush, which should be impressive or something but does nothing to me (I think someone got ripped off... haha). Sean decides he needs a piss, so Nahim leads him out of the tiny room into the unlight and stuff filled basement to the bathroom. Suddenly there is a lot of loud banging and Nahim yells out to us to get out here. Sean is unable to stand, he is hitting everything. My first thought, being a lovely young junkie, is Fuck this, I barely know the guy, Tanzen and I can leave him here for Nahim to deal with it. That's what I honestly thought. Nahim is trying to shepard him out of the basement but he is almost unable to stand. Suddenly you see him stiffen up and fall head first into a pile of tools. The most amazing face plant I have ever seen. He looked dead. After we clamber out and drag Sean out of the basement, Tanzen took his right side and I took his left and we brought him back on to the sidewalk. We had to keep telling him to walk and he kept complaining that he wanted to sit down. Finally, we sat him down on a bus terminal bench and we all began to stare at this giant poster of Janice Dickinson's show, it was extremely puzzling. I analyzed it for what seemed like 10 minutes. Sean was now able to walk, so we brought him to where we usually met up with him and almost ran back to Tanzen's house for dinner.

Dinner was hard because I was high and I had to make sure to act normal and look people in the eye and say normal things. I thought I was going to die. Anyway, after that we played cards until Saturday night came on, and after 10 minute I began to nod out (that's what it felt like, haha, it was nutty, I smoked way too much) and so Tanzen and I headed up to bed at 12.

The next morning we talked about shit, read some more of the book, discussed the night before. She is very very disapproving of my continued desire for an H dealer in the city (hah, we're calling it Mission H). I guess that's not surprising. On the ride home I listened to the Velvet Underground until I finally was home. I worked on the common app and did homework.

A few questions still remain:

1. What else was Sean on, which caused him to literally just fall to the ground? I have never seen someone that fucked up on weed before. To me it looked like someone who had taken too much smack. He wasn't in the bathroom for him to have done that though. I don't know what it was, but it was fucking obnoxious as shit.

2. Will I ever actually get around to seriously trying to score? I've been very distracted about that goal, it's sad, but a serious goal. Hey, don't judge me people! (haha)

3. How will the visit's to Ashley's group home go? She is a level one now, so she can have guests (I will be her first, how cool is that?). I have to fill out the form tomorrow.

4. I'm seriously considering getting clean... Am I serious? Haha, for that answer and many others, tune in to tomorrow when Lucy describes the lingering problems and annoyances of high school! See ya soon folks!

Here Comes Your Man

Yay! The ban on my unhappiness was lifted yesterday. Sadly, I was asleep for a good part of it, but it was still a lovely sleep. I'm very happy about life, haha... guess why? I'm kinda worried, as I drove home today after dropping of my friend Nina (a different one than usual) my only thought was I should get high today. Nope... I should wait until saturday and I'm in the city. The city is always so good and it makes everything better... I could like cut my regular dose and just have a small high... I mean, I could cop sooner than I wanted to, this could work if I got high today... I'm not going to though. I have homework that I need to get done before I go into the city. Tanzen and I shall go on another adventure. Now this begs the question: should I be high around Tanzen? Is this a shitty thing to do (around everyone else I wouldn't give a shit, but she actually allows me to talk about anything)? I doesn't really matter, and I know what the answer for me is, no matter how much I don't want to admit it: it frankly doesn't bother me at all. The only other thing is that in the city, while high, you have to walk a lot. Which always is something I'd rather not to do, but whatever, it'll be fun. I just can't be high on the train because I will nod out against the window. I'm kind of excited as always. I love seeing Tanzen and it's always fun.

In other news:

My dad's birthday is tomorrow, so we're going out to dinner. I should probably make him a card or something. I didn't get him anything, he never asks. Anthony and I are also hanging out tomorrow, so I just have to hope that neither encroaches on the other's time. I want to do both, but that's easier said than done. I hope the food is good, that's what I'm mostly thinking about (how horrible... I know).

For my dad's birthday, I'm going to tell a story he told me:

My friend came over to my apartment, this was before you mother and I met. Everything was normal and we were sitting talking. He was sitting on my sofa; he had on a white long sleeved shirt. Slowly I began to notice a red spot on his inner arm slowly get bigger. It kept growing, I asked him, "Did you cut yourself?" He looked at me and didn't say anything. I then immediately told him, "Get out. Leave and don't come back until you're clean." You see, Lucy, I think heroin is the worst drug. I've never done it, or speed for that matter or crack.

Obviously, when I first heard this, my only thought was, "well, that's pleasant." I think it's kind of ironic now. He's always liked to tell me about the drugs he's sold, done, etc.. It used to be entertaining, but mostly I just don't want to hear about it.

Anyway, I've got homework to do and a guitar lesson to go to, so I'll check you guys on the filp side.

BTW, listen to the song "Here Comes Your Man" by The Pixies. I've been listening to it non-stop for like three days... haha. = )

What I See

My leg twitched inside it's shell. I stared at the screen. I've been thinking over a few weird moments, which I haven't said anything about:

1.) The homeless guy (possible junky) in Tompkins who walked past me. I looked at him and he stared directly into my eyes as he walked past me. I don't know what to think about it, I figure he was just sizing me up. Trying to figure out what I was and where I would fit in if I was going to be joining the unwashed masses of the park.

2.) "Yeah, it's all in with dealing with sobriety." My new thought is that Ashley can actually read my thoughts. We were talking in gym class about our weekends, I'm saying how I feel like shit, etc.. Nothing about the state of my drug use and suddenly she's bringing up my sobriety (which is going like shit, because it's going to be ended tomorrow or thursday). Cool kid and doesn't seem to care that I'm a needle using junky (then again, she's in a drug addict in a group home, probably doesn't feel she has room to preach).

3.) He stared at me like I had just insulted his mother. This guy at the Reagan Youth show kept giving me dirty looks the entire night. I was the only one with my mohawk up, and I wonder if it was that (sad but true). I figure if you're at a hardcore show, you should at least have the balls to say something to me instead of just shooting me dirty looks.

There are other things that I don't feel like bringing up... School's okay at the moment. I got two tests back: 90 and a 93, so two As is always good. Along with a few homeworks that got check pluses and "excellent"s (I said I was a good student, = ). I still haven't talked to my calculus teacher about missing his class. I hope that he doesn't yell at me, not that it would really bother me. I've realized that I don't give a crap about that class, I hate it, he makes it horrible. I enjoy math and he makes it unnecessarily hateful.

I'm wondering what's going on with my leg and if I can see about getting some medical dope for it. It won't be easy, just because of my arthritis (ironic isn't it). All parts of my right leg hurt, my knee is all swollen, sharp pains are running up and down my calf and foot. My doctor will probably just shrug it off as always, he's one of the leading doctor's in the world, so I have to trust him.

The TV flashes with "The Cleaner." Guess what? It's a show about drug interventionists and it focused tonight on a girl with the name of Sarah who had a problem with dope. It's not a reality show, so it's more fun. I really do enjoy it. There's this one guy Swenton, who reminds me of me. It makes it uncomfortable, because we're so similar.

Well, off to bed and another day of school... let's not say that I hate my life, just the things that I have to do in it.

- Lucy = )

BTW, two quotes: 

"I don't do drugs. I am drugs." - Dali

"Life's a bitch, but one day it's going to be my bitch." - My friend Nora

Are you really happy?

I keep blogging and blogging and blogging today from sheer boredom and a general feeling of ill will upon all humanity. I feel like killing everyone. It's just one of those days, I feel like shit, emotionally and physically, blah blah blah. I went to make dinner, two fried eggs, one rolls of the table and cracks, both stick to the pan and are extremely hard to get off. I put pepper on them instead of salt. I feel like all I do is complain when I start blogging. Usually, I sound a lot more upset or annoyed than I actually feel. Usually I'm pretty happy as or after I blog. I feel like this irony must be expressed.

I'm bored out of my mind, I hate the entire world, I feel like killing myself... ooop, guess what? What's a 17 year old junky to do without any gear? Eat, do homework, complain, do some more homework, eat, listen to music, read, attempt to sleep. This monotony is going to beat the crap out of my brain. I feel like I should be slamming my head into the wall, or running away. I'm too dedicated to this ideal life of senior year and then college, I can't run away. I mean, I can, I've thought about it a lot since I was younger. You are in the bottom of floor of Penn Station where the LIRR tracks are. You wander over to the 123 and hop on a train to Christopher and Sheridan Street. You wander over to someone's house and call them to see where they are. They don't answer. You wander over to St. Mark's and into Tompkins. You see the crusties and the Vietname vets. You sit down on a bench. You end your past life. This makes me think of this girl I knew Devon, who was kicked out of her house last spring and had to stay in a park for 2 nights. On the third night her friend found her and took her home. She then spent the next few weeks moving from friend's house to friend's house. It was all because she got a B on a test or something. Her dad, a pot dealer, is apparently a stickler for grades (the irony of the century). She's a cool kid, and he let her back into the house in the end of August.

I don't want to go to school, I don't want to go to guitar lessons, I want to get high and sleep. Rinse, repeat. I know it's just the absence of drugs that is the cause of these feelings. They just feel overwhelming, I just don't see any point right now. Tomorrow will be better. Tomorrow has to be better.

Adult Books

DOPE (and other drug) BOOKS:

1. "Tales from the Geronimo" by Scott Frank - My favorite book of all time. I picked it up for $3 in a used book store. It may be hard to find, but it's well worth it. I've read it probably 5 times.

2. "Trainspotting" by Irvine Welsh - It's amazing! But you probably already know that. Renton is amazing and I love him more and more every time I read it.

3. "Candy" by Luke Davies - Australian dope fiends. My first dope book, I've read it twice. Very entertaining and a generally good read.

4. "Junky" by William S. Burroughs - Classic. I feel like it's interesting mostly because of the setting and the words they use. Occasionally hard to understand, though you can usually get the general gist. (For example, how much is a grain? I've never heard any measurement called that.)

5. "Speed/Kentucky Ham" by William S. Burroughs Jr. - Honestly really really interesting. About a teenager about my age, but the length of time they talk about is very vague and confused because of the heavy use of speed. I almost found it more interesting than "Junky" (that's probably a sin, but whatever).

6. "Ecstasy" by Irvine Welsh - The stories are really interesting, funny, and bizarre. Very very good read. Interesting even though it focuses on e. Renton makes a cameo in one of the stories.

7. "Porno" by Irvine Welsh - Not really a drug book, but it is the sequel to Trainspotting. Mostly focuses on coke.

I feel like I've read way more, so I'll come back later and edit it when I think of the others. = )

Pulling a "Sicky"

Okay, so here is what I am thinking about on my day home from school: A) I need to finish my homework, B) I need to get better, and C) I need to get my life more in order. My biggest problem is that I need to figure out which path I want to take. If I'm going to care then I have to get myself cleaner. I don't need to quit completely, just get my life in a more orderly way. I feel like the whole idea of getting clean is really something that I'm always hearing other people say, and I feel like I should have some big goal. But I don't. I don't have any desire to get clean, if anything I would rather use more. I like being high, I'd rather be high. I feel better about everything, I know that's not a good reason, but does there have to be a reason. As Scott Frank says, "Why care?" (that's an approximation, I can't find the exact quote). I don't care. I don't think there is really anything I'm going to gain from getting clean. That's the problem, I'm not gaining anything, maybe a bit less worry. That's what I'm struggling with at the moment, I just don't see the point in getting clean because there doesn't appear to be any large benefit. The only obvious one is that I think I'm worrying Tanzen. She hasn't said it in that many words, but she seems to be very circumspect about my present circumstances. I feel bad about maybe giving her something to worry about, I figure I'll shut up the next few months and then she'll chill.

I guess my biggest crossroads, is whether to stay on the straight and narrow path off to college and being studious. Or to just not give a shit anymore. I'm thinking about what I'm going to do next summer. I have a feeling that it will be a defining factor in my life. We're all discussing big plans and everything else, but I wonder if we will all end up picking our paths right then. We're talking about maybe getting an apartment in the village or maybe going to Dublin. Some many options...

In completely other and more uplifting news: I'm reading this book called "Brass" by Helen Walsh, which about this girl Millie whose at Uni in London. She can make this decision to either continue on her path of over drinking, over drugging, over prostitute seeking (she's a lesb'in), and under achieving. Or actually getting her shit together and graduating college. Holy fuck, remind you of anyone, besides the drinking, the lesbianism, the prostitutes, and the under achieving. It's not so bad, not amazing either, but oh well. It's an okay drug book, mostly coke and e. She's kinda dumbass, but it's at least mostly entertaining. I've got about 50 pages left to read, so I may finish it today if I have the time.

I had a dream last night that my family found my stash. A few nights ago I had a dream that my parents were sending me to 'hab, which apparently was hilarious (during the dream I couldn't figure out why it was so funny). I hate them, they are so vivid and scary. 

I think I'm going to make a posting of my favorite drug books, because I have read a number and some are excellent. I probably shouldn't be focusing on drugs, I should be focusing on Latin or Environmental Sciences.

Go Nowhere

I'm going to puke man. Oh fuck, this is going to suck. They're both staring at me in the subway station You don't look too good, Lucy. I try to put on a smile, I give Ned a hug and then Tanzen and I wander back to her house. The show had wiped me out. It was incredible though. USA and Reagan Youth put all of us in a frenzy, just elbowing each other and trying as hard as we could to get everything out of us. I talked to some people I'd seen at other shows, and my friends and I goofed around as per our usual. Reagan Youth, Endangered Feces, and Aggressive Force were the best of the night, APPLE was obviously good, but just kinda weird. Common Enemy wasn't really good, they kinda sounded like the killing a cat and not in a fun kinda way. I thought I was going to puke, crap myself, or faint a few times, more than I would like, but I just tried to push that to the back of my mind and have a good time.

Today Tanzen and I woke up early and got into the village by 12. We wandered down St. Mark's and over to Tompkins. We wandered around and I scouted out the people, trying to piece together the scene. We ended up sitting down two benches away from a homeless guy, and this other one pulled up named Tommy. He started to talk to us, he was a Vietnam vet and he had a brand new bike that he got for $20. It was really nice. He said, "Do you wanna take it for a spin?" Are you serious? "Yeah." I stood up and he let me put my hands on the handle bars. Thanks. "Well, you don't look like a heroin addict or a bike thief, so it's cool." Well, I'm not a bike thief. And I rode off and went around this fenced in area, with a big grin plastered across my face. It was so much fun. I felt like a little kid. It was so much fun. I got off and my hands started to shake, I guess it was an adrenaline rush or something. A few minutes later Tanzen and I wandered off to the subway where we said our goodbyes. I got to 34th and 6 ave and I had to sprint to catch the train in 3 minutes. 'Twas not pleasant 'tall.

Now I'm home and I'm planing on doing all my homework for tomorrow and then passing out. I feel like shit, I'm thinking about maybe staying home tomorrow if I still feel this shitty and not doing anything. I don't really feel like having a guitar lesson tomorrow, I may just cancel it and postpone them until like the second half of the year. The mood I'm in just says, "I don't want to go to lessons." I see myself in the mirror right now and I look dirty. My hair is gross and my face is caked in dried sweat and water. I need a shower, a nap, and a hit. I think I might like try and get myself clean, or at least cleaner. I need to work on this bullshit, I don't see the point, but I guess I should, right. That's what everyone seems to always be saying.

My computer is being spastic, but you should listen to the song "I Don't Care" by Black Flag. It's funny as hell and awesome, no duh, it's BLACK FLAG! = )

Sick

I was so sick for four days. I honestly wondered if my innards were eating themselves. Let's just say that everything in my digestive track just kinda became concrete. Today, I thought I was going to die, I took some laxatives last night so that I felt better for tomorrow's show. Well, after second block they took effect and I didn't want to use a school bathroom, so I decided to wait until I got home. Anthony and I couldn't hang today because he had to go practice ice skating for hockey. We hung out in the radio station until he left around 5, I worry that I embarrass him. He hugged me good bye and his friend Matt said, "Aww, that's cute." I felt bad, but I really did want a hug. Let's just say that I got home, I thought I was going to die on the way home, but now I'm feeling much better.

The biggest news of today is my new pal, who I don't remember the name of. Anyway, here's the story: I met her a few days ago at gym class. She said she moved here with her mother. Today she opened up to me, realizing that I was of the druggy breed, and she's staying at a group home for the next 6 months. She's been sober for 3 months (I have a feeling that won't be kept up after she gets out), and she is also on probation. I told her about the scar on my arm, I told her to guess what the infection was from, her guesses were: cutting (how 8th grade) and self tattooing (haha, I have one on my left ankle actually, a blue star made out of sharpie and a safety pin, at 15 I was kinda dumb). I told her she was wrong, obviously, and she said, "well then my only other guess is heroin" (apparently, needle use and heroin is interchangeable, what the fuck?). I said, "Not exactly, but the same kinda deal. Never lick your needles." I don't know if she was cool with it or not, I think she was kinda taken-aback (hey, I'm not the one in the group home). But, she's cool, I think her name might be like Nicole or something. I have a feeling we're going to get along just fine. She's conning her psychiatrist into giving her adderal or something else to control her "ADHD" (a.k.a. her junky lies). I'm kinda impressed that she could get it that easily, her lying is in fact fairly impressive. I've done like 1.5 months sober before and that was too long for me. I'm really impressed by her 3 months, though I feel like probation and a group home makes that a more appealing option. So, hopefully, I'll have more to say about her when we have gym again on tuesday. 

Tomorrow is the Reagan Youth show, which is exciting. I'm quite psyched actually, I'm thinking about waking up early on sunday morning and maybe Tanzen and I wondering around the village for a while. I think I'm going to see about getting her to help me out. I know it's kinda bad, but if you're going to offer me a helping hand and not expect me to take it then don't ask. I feel so tired, and now I'm high, I guess it's a combination. I've been feeling very weird lately. That feeling like the world is rushing at you, literally, like everything is moving too fast for your brain to comprehend. It used to be bad and would hit me in school walking through crowded halls. It's as if someone has put a towel over your brain and is suffocating it. I wonder if I should really ask Tanzen to help me out, would it be bad? would it make me a bad friend? I know that that's really about how I feel and my concerns are really only about how it reflects on me. I guess I just want anything I can get my hands and if someone wants to help me, then that's their business. I feel so confused about how to handle things, I know that the world is going to fuck Tanzen up, it's only a matter of time, but will I be part of that. I know it's a dog eat dog world and someone is going to take advantage of her, I just don't want to be the first one who is using her kindness for my own good. I think partially she really wants me to say yes so that she can have some. It's so confusing (if you couldn't tell by all of those nonsensical sentences). Slowly, my biggest dillemma is whether I am a friend first and a junky second, or a junky first and a friend second when it comes to Tanzen. I'm almost always a friend, but I wonder if these actions will really change it.

Well, I think I'm going to go read and take my mind off of this decision. I'll post pics from the show. I hope everyone has a great weekend. My first full week of school is over! = )

Sister Midnight part duo

I walked into the medicine cabinet and I felt relief wash over me. My headache wasn't as bad.  I'm just getting some tylenol, dad. I have a headache. Relief is a bottle of hydrocodone in my hand. I took two and quickly put it back. Slowly walk back into the den sipping a glass of water, talking to my dad. My stomach aches right now. Pain ripping across it and onto my back. I feel like shit. I haven't been able to sleep well for the few past nights, which is catching up to me. I lay down on my bed in a sweatshirt and a fuzzy blanket over me, cold sweats running down my back and face. The fact that everything in my digestive system has turned to cement isn't really helping me, either. My body is kinda, well, let's say, punching me in the face. I'm attempting to eat dinner right now, slowly chewing over each bite and the pain nipping at my innards. I was talking to Tanzen over the internet, talking to her about my pain. My headache is part sleep deprivation, part the absence of my favorite thing. We both kind of laughed at that. I've had to speak in code to her over the internet since her dad once got onto her facebook and saw our plan to get some 40s in the village. Let's say he wasn't too happy. Tanzen says she could go and see about getting me something. My stomach goes yes! and then my mind goes I cannot do that to Tanzen... Fuck... I tell her that I can't do that to her, that it would be really uncool for me to put her in that position. She shrugged that off, and said that it's totally fine. I kinda hope that Tanzen completely disregards what I said and go get whatever she thinks my favorite thing is (honestly, I have no idea which drug the kid thinks it is, but I'm sure it won't be bad), but I also feel guilt that I would put her in any kind of situation which could result badly (at least if I was there I wouldn't feel bad about it). In all honesty, I want her to get me drugs, but I want everyone to get me drugs. Haha, I wish I could just walk around and have drugs drop from the sky, people hand them to me, or any other delivery method that gets them to me.

Fuck, the pill hits me like a punch to the face. One second you're normal just waiting, and then it hits you in the head. I love it, swallowing has never been my favorite way to imbibe my drugs, I'd rather hit a vein or fuck up my nose, but I'll take it anyway I can. I've been thinking about that more and more, I realized that my choice of drugs is anything that hits me hard and fast, that is a real drug, not weed or E or dumb shit like that. I figured that if we were planning on picking up some shit in the city, if there is no smack in site, plan b would be getting speed (amphetamines or meth). I've never done speed, but I'd rather that than buying weed. Also, I do like psychedelics, but there not my average cup of tea. Psychedelics are for a rainy afternoon, evening, night, and then morning (possibly into the mid-afternoon, if it hasn't worn off yet, haha). When I took a nap today, I was asleep for about 10 minutes, I had a dream that my parents knew about my drug use, they kinda made fun of me for it.

Today school was boring as hell. I thought I was going to fall asleep in almost every class. I gave Zach and this kid Stephen rides home. I didn't realize that Stephen lived on the complete other side of town from Zach and me. So, it was a bit of an adventure, I almost hit a garbage can and I almost killed all of us, but it was fun. Zach is kind of an asshole, also a bit of a bigot. He was complaining about kids in his old school wearing confederate flags, but he's calling Stephen a fag after Stephen gets out, and then is talking about how he hates only poor and dumb black people. I wanted to say to him, "WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?" I'm not against anyone, and I'm definitely not a bigot. The thing is Zach and I share the same feelings about preppy shit heads and the like, so we can make fun of them. My other friends get all pissed off and offended when I say things about them, they say, "what's wrong with you?" Zach and I blast "Search and Destroy" in front of the school, with the sunroof open and us hysterically laughing. Zach and I are like two peas in a pod, so I don't know how to feel about him being so wrong.  I don't have a crush on Zach though, I like Anthony so much more. Anthony is so sweet, we pack up microphone sets together and we just stand beside one another and I juste feel protected. Anthony and I laid on the floor on friday and watched that 70s show, it was cute. We're very awkward and teenager-esque. It's problematic, in some ways, I need to get him to relax, he'll barely sit right next to me when he comes over. It's kind of endearing and kind of annoying, haha, oh high school. I brought in records today to get them digitized in the school radio station. The Necros "Tangled Up," Blanks 77 "Up the System," and a record of the Teen Idles, State of Alert, Youth Brigade, and fuck I forgot the other band. The best thing is that it has little Ian Mckay's first band the Teen Idles, and little Henry Garfield's (now Rollins') first band State of Alert. They're both so adorable on their pictures, I want to eat them up.

I should be doing European History homework, so now I'll do that. I'm watching "The Secret Life of the American Teenager," which is such a dumb show, but kind of entertaining. = )

Sister Midnight, live Iggy Pop video dancing and being hot

Sister Midnight

My brain feels like it's collapsing in on itself. I need to get high. I need to. This isn't a want, this is a necessity. I need something that will take away this feeling in my brain. Oh fuck, I don't know why I do this to myself, but I guess I do. I was clean for a month and a half during the spring, and I was really proud of it. It's the kind of pride that I attempted to tell my friends about, but they were just like, "whatever." They don't get it. I talked to Tanzen about it, and she didn't get it. No one I know does. It's like this big triumphant feeling. I figured that I wouldn't start again, but present me with gear, and we all know what's going to happen next. Fuck, I want a hit. Just one, just something small to take all the cravings away. I feel like I'm going to cry (how pathetic is this?). I have some other shit, but it's not what I want. The only thing good is that it will distract my brain from the lack of opiates. Fuck my life.

Calling sister midnight, can you hear me at all?

Salad Days

Today was my first day of school and it was actually awesome. I woke up around 8 a.m. and kinda puttered around the house, getting ready very slowly and enjoying my extra time (obviously, I mean, I even blogged haha). I hopped in the car and decided that I needed some music to pump me up, this consisted of the following songs "I Fought the Law," "God Save the Queen," "Anarchy in the UK," and "When I Come Around." I listen to a lot of upbeat catchy songs before I go into school always just so that I'm in a good mood. Also, walking into school with a mohawk it's easy to get intimidated by all the staring, so if I listen to this kinda stuff I can get into the right attitude to deal with that. (Obviously, I don't mind staring, but it's hard to face it from 100s of people in the same room).

Anyway, I pulled into the parking lot around 9:30 and got into a spot easily. There were like 10 senior boys standing next to my spot smoking and as I pulled in they all stared at me and gave me dirty looks. I saw a few people as I walked in, and we all greeted each other with strained smiles and poor attempts at conversation. I waited outside my homeroom, which was locked and empty, for 25 minutes with this gay guy Stephen who is really nice. We chatted there for a while, which made me relax a little bit. I saw Anthony and hugged him immediately, then I noticed he had poison ivy on his arm. We're hanging out tomorrow, which we both agree will be the highlight of our week. My homeroom is good because it has four of my friends sitting right next to me, so that's really nice. We were all hanging out and joking around. Nina has bronchitis, so she sounds like an old Jewish grandmother. It's because she's been smoking waaay too much this summer. Maya is sitting there, being her creepy-lesbin-fake-junky-self. She's asking Nina if she got any codeine or anything. And I turn to her and say Maya, "Are you trying to get Nina's pills? Nina, Maya is trying to get all up in your pills." Maya says, "No... my mom had bronchitis and she got codeine... but codeine is really good." I say, "Codeine is a waste of time." Now, I could have said, "At least go find a better opiate," but I figured that would be pretty bad. Our homeroom teachers were standing about 10 feet away, but that never seems to faze us. I'm a bit worried that my friends are going to end up getting all of us drug tested some day; they don't know when to shut up... ever. We went to this assembly, which was the usual blah blah blah. I saw this guy with straight blonde hair that reaches his waist.

We went to lunch and I met up with Anthony near the art rooms. We walked down to the radio station and see Mr. Woodruff. I'm so excited because he told us he and his wife are having a baby. I think that's awesome. Mr. Woodruff will make a great dad, in some ways, he's adopted all of us in the studio. I think of him as my "punk-guru." He grew up in NYC and was a part of the scene in the 80s. He's my favorite teacher, he has even loaned me records and burned me CDs. Lunch flew by and I barley got a bite to eat.

I walked up to environmental which was okay. Basically the first two columns of desks are awesome, it's basically me and 3 of my friends. That class should be okay, I remember her from when I was a kid at this camp my school district runs. It was weird in that sense, she said that she recognized my name. I then went on to Latin (my favorite class!). I saw my favorite teacher, who we lovingly refer to as Gut. He had a notecard on each desk with or Latin name on it. My Latin name is Mystika (it means mystical), he made the "a" in the anarchy symbol (which made me smile). I love Latin more and more each year. Then I went to gym and hung out with Felipe, Jacob, and Zach (the new kid with the long hair). Zach is from Virginia and he moved to a place pretty close to my house, so I gave him a ride home so that the wouldn't have to walk. He's actually really cool, so I'm hoping that I can integrate him into my friends. Finally I went to AP European History, but I got there when everyone was already seated. I don't think the teacher likes me very much. She kept staring at me when she would ask questions as if she expected me to answer. When she was talking about people from regular level U.S. History switching out she was staring at me. I wanted to say to her, "Look, I've been in AP U.S. History for two years. Stop judging me because I have a mohawk and you obviously think I'm a slacker. You don't know me, so leave me alone." I know that that seems like a lot to draw from staring, but it was very very apparent.

After school, I walked to the parking lot with Zach. Lauren was sitting in her car, so I walked over and introduced her to Zach. I was going to point out that where she's parked smells like weed... I then realized that it was probably her car. Haha, so I decided to not say anything. I drove Zach home, which was kinda fun. He's a really cool kid, so I'm glad that I met him. I felt bad when I saw him in gym, he was sitting all alone and just looked out of place. Anyway, I got home and chatted with a few friends on the phone. Now, I'm pleasantly high and ready to enjoy the rest of the day. I also wrote a lovely song called "Teenage Cliche," haha, classic - punk 3 chord.

Overall, I've enjoyed today and am just glad to have gotten through it. All of my worrying was for nothing and I'm actually happy that this school year has started. = )

BTW, I made a mix and I don't know why, but I feel like posting the tracks... because I'm just that cool. = )

1. Mucky Pup - The Exploited

2. Bored of Television - The Methadones

3. Smoking Popes - Sexy

4. Mister Sister - The Tender Box

5. Shake Down Your Walls - Be My Doppelganger

6. 5 Years in a Time Capsule - The Challenged

7. 31 Year Old Daydream - Toys that Kill

8. Symbols, Slogans, Lies - The Observers

9. Tail Lights - Modern Machines

10. Lazy Eye - Silversun Pickups

I think all of these songs are all quite classic, though some are way more well known than others.

Back to school special...

The house is quiet this morning. Just me and Aden (my dog). I feel really different from last year, and I noticed it this morning. I was sitting on my bed pulling on my boots and I looked at what I was wearing. Everything was new (for me at least). The flannel shirt I bought at the Salvation Army on 3rd Ave, the Blackout Shoppers shirt I got a few weeks ago at the show, the black Levi's my mom bought me in Chicago, and finally my Docs. Sure, I'm basically the same person, but I have definitely changed a bit. I was thinking about how the seniors always seem so different than juniors because they seem like they really are themselves. I think I'm finally a senior. Haha, I have 25 minutes before I need to hop into the car. The only thing I'm worried about is getting a parking space in the senior lot. I can't wait to see Anthony and all the other people I haven't seen since school, even a few teachers. Well, wish me luck, I gotta go jump in... boots first! = )

(I couldn't think of any good songs about going to high school, besides "High School" by the MC5... so, no song reference today... = )

A photo of me!

This is a photo of me when I first got my mohawk done in June. The pink has basically faded out by now. Hopefully, it won't matter that this is up and no one I know will some how stumble upon this. Well, that's me! = )

A 17 year old day dream

My nose feels like it's running. I remember standing in my mother's room talking to her, my left side facing her. I felt something sliding down my face, it was heavy. She walked into the bathroom after an enternity and I ran into my room. I looked at myself and saw a white streak running down from my nose to the top of my lip. Surprise was my only emotion. How could she not have noticed? I really believe that sometimes they would try and ignore my behavior.

I remember standing in the kitchen spinning the greatest lie of my life. She was standing at the stove cooking and I was walking around her. My fingers were turning something, turning it. Rotating it. Rotating it. During a pause I looked at what my two fingers had been absentmindedly spinning. A gray needle cap was in my fingers. I quickly stuffed it in my pocket.

How do other people not see the signs? If I saw that I would say something. I wonder what is going on in other people's minds. I hate pills sometimes. I've been taking hydrocodone for months and, although I shouldn't be complaining, I'm going to. You can't shoot them, you can't snort them, so you have to swallow them. There is nothing about swallowing things that I like. With a shot there is preparation, there is the needle, things which I enjoy. Snorting something even has preparation, and then the act. There is no climax to swallowing a pill, it goes down and then you wait. I sit at my computer and flip through Gledwood's blog, then Melody's blog, I move on to Michelle's blog, or Kelly's blog. I continue to flip through these things until it hits me and then I will sit and write. Although I enjoy how it feels I long for the preparation, that feeling that your actions really matter and are leading up to a goal. I want a goal.

I was digging through my kit (not really digging, I kinda took everything out and then put what I didn't want back). I decided to take a Flexeril, hoping that it would help me sleep tonight. I decided, as you sometimes do, to rail it (which I do any chance that I get). Horrible idea. I snorted a little of the powder and my thought was, "Oh, damn, now my eyes are watering." It's funny, but I didn't cry like I would have in the past, my only reaction was kind of a lackluster annoyance. I was annoyed because it was a waste of a perfectly good pill, but beyond that I didn't really care very much. At the moment the opiates in my system and the Flexeril have formed a tag-team and are making me almost close my eyes. It really has kicked in pretty well, which is a good thing. I was thinking about my kit, I can itemize it right now, even though tonight was the first time I've looked in it since spring. It contains: two needles, an alcohol pad, a few peices of cotton, a Bic lighter with almost no fluid, an old fashioned lighter which needs more fluid, a mirror, a dollar bill, an extra needle cap, and an empty bag of weed with a stem in it. The other day when I was in Lauren's car she pulled out her "kit." Her using the term was kinda weird to me, and I thought, "That's not a kit. Who did you learn that label from?" I know it sounds weird, but my first thought was, "I call it a kit because that's what every junky in reading/life has called it, but you don't read/know any of these people. What the fuck?" I guess I've pulled out my kit in front of her, in fact, I've probably called it my kit. I changed the bag it was in after she recognized it one day. I've been thinking a lot today. I wrote this giant post, which I'm going to post before this one. I'm going to label each section of that one, because it really is massive. Haha I had too much time to think to night.

Bored of Television

MUSIC AND COMICS:

The Methadones keep telling me, "I'm bored of television, but I'm always keeping it on." I smile. It's a good song. It came on this compilation that came with this comic book I got in Chicago. The comic is a classic punk-stoner-mid-20s dude one, which are my favorites (haha). I keep thinking about how the compilation comic I'm in will be out in November, I can't wait. It's kinda weird to think about, but it's awesome. None of my friends are really psyched about it, but I'm so excited. I really wish I knew some zines where the writers didn't already do all the comics. I've been working on one about a guy who works at the Gap and, in an attempt to stick it to the man, begins to remove the body parts of some of the customers while working in the fitting room. He then sells their body parts to different stores to use as mannequin parts. I think I've already talked about it, I have the first 4 boxes done, but I think it will take probably 16 boxes in total. That seems like a good number, something that would make a long enough story.

DISBELIEF AND SICKNESS:

I can't believe that tomorrow is the last day of summer, it's making me feel almost sick. There's been a weird haze hanging over me for the past few days, I've been dizzy, hot, tired, and just feeling out of it. It's a weird state, something that I would attribute to being high if I wasn't stone cold sober the times that it occurs. It makes me nervous because being all wobbly is only going to make people suspicious, which is all I need.

GROWING UP AND WHO I AM:

I don't even want to think about school, I've been trying to do all the work for it, but I've had trouble concentrating. I can't believe I'm starting senior year. That's crazy. I'm turning 18 in 6 months which is even crazier. I know how dumb both of those things sound, it just doesn't seem like I'm that old. I definitely don't feel 17, I feel like so much younger. I don't want to grow up, I want to be a teenager forever. The only thing good about growing up is moving out and having some privacy and freedom. I feel like I'm being pulled in two directions: one to college and success, and the other anywhere wherever I want, not caring about what's going to happen. I can't reconcile the two, it's really bothering me. I know I'm going to end up in college, it's set up and fixed, it's like a giant boulder on the path. In some ways I think of the song "16" by Green Day, "I wish my youth would last forever, why are these times so unfair?" It's corny, I know that, but I guess I just feel like I don't want to be expected to be all together and set like adults are supposed to be. The more and more I see the more and more disillusioned I feel. Every adult I meet seems worse and worse off than the first one and I can't reconcile it with how they are "supposed" to be. People keep telling me what I am and what I'm not. "You look like a punk." "You're a stoner." "You're a nerd." All these people want to label me, well I'm way more than a fucking label. I'm a typhoon that's going to kick the shit out of you unless you back off. I'm the kid who walks into school everyday just praying that you're going to pick a fight because all I want to do is punch something, anything, and your face will do just fine. I'm the kid who you push on the stairs who is going to push you harder, and when you ask why, I'm just going to chuckle. I'm the kid at the show who knows the band, who has patches on the table that the band is selling. I'm the one at the front of the stage who the singer is poking in the head. I'm the kid who you tell your friends about and suddenly I'm meeting people who all know my name. I'm the kid who you have no idea where I'm from but you assume I'm a local. And you know what, I fucking love who I am. That's what I've come to realize, there is nothing I want to change about myself. All of my mistakes are my own and any shit that I get into I will have to face, I can't deny it and I can't change it. Everyone else want's to deny who they are and they want pretend they are someone else, but I see through most of them and that's what makes me angry. I hate all of these phonies that I have to deal with day to day. I can see most people's true colors and I usually see things that I hate. Sure, sometimes I'm weak, sometimes I get sad, but I know that and I own that. In some ways, I'm excited about school, I love dealing with everyone. Alone my emotions are so boring, there is no one to combat them, no one to alleviate them or make them worse. I love school because it brings out happiness, love, humor, anger, pain, it brings out everything. I love school because with human interaction you figure out your true character, it forces you to change and do things you can't do alone. I love school because it is so entertaining, I hate the boredom, but I love all the emotions that it brings into me. I love feeling things; for 7 hours a day I have no reprieve and everything is more real.

TODAY (NYC AND AT HOME):

Today was a good day. I had to wake up early which was horrible. I felt like I was in the twilight zone. My mother and I loaded into the car and we drove off to NYC. I love the drive and I know all the sights by heart. Slowly as we approach you see the entire New York skyline and I can just feel all the possibilities spread out before me. That is why most people will tell you they love New York, it has every possibility you could want, all you need is a way to find it. As I drove past I wondered how many people were taking their morning shots, it was 7:45. We finally got there around 9:15, right in time for my doctor appointment. We discussed my knee and all the regular crap. I have to have a blood test, which always makes me nervous. I'm worried that my parents are going to sneak a drug test in there (I'm convinced that they would take such pleasure in that, sadistic freaks). We were done by 9:35 and driving out of the city. The drive back is even better, we drive back on the West Side, which is truly beautiful. I've always enjoyed sitting the passenger seat, alone with my music. I got home around 12 and slept until 3, at which point my neighbor Katie came over.  I've known Katie since we were children and we're almost like sisters. We sat around and hung out as always, Katie says something strange, I say something back, she miss hears me, I correct her, we both laugh; it's a time tested method of communicating between two insane people. It's always fun, though occasionally it really tries my patience. Katie and I are like two really insane old ladies. She made me watch "The Secret Life of the American Teenager," which I was hoping I was going to hate. But, I have to admit that it wasn't horrible. Now I'm watching the Cleaner, which is, as it is every week, so good. Haha, this week it's about a high school student (a senior) who is addicted to heroin. I think I'm going to watch it again in the next hour. The pills are starting to kick in and I'm starting to feel better.

SLEEP AND PARANOIA:

I'm having some problems with sleep. I get in bed at 11 and I can't fall asleep until 1:30, it's driving me up a wall. I just wish that I could be like normal people and get in bed and fall asleep. My mom and I were just discussing this. We were talking and she was staring into my eyes and I was freaking out. My brain is screaming, "SHE KNOWS SHE KNOWS SHE KNOWS ABORT ABORT ABORT GET OUT OF THE ROOM." I keep talking to her and slowly I back up into the hallway where the light is off. I get into my room and shut the door. I stare at my eyes in the mirror. My pupils are fine, I look gross and dirty, but not obviously high. Ugh, paranoia probably helping my sleeping either.

CONCLUSION:

Anyway, I hope everyone else is feeling great and is sleeping better than me.

THE METHADONES, "BORED OF TELEVISION":

Ca plan pour moi

I knew that if I said it to her she wouldn't come over. Can we just stay in the house? I'm tired. "Okay, I'll be there in a bit." She never showed up. She texts me a little later, "I'm not going to make it. Thanks for inviting me man." It freaked me out. She earlier told me that she was "in a bad way." Whenever I say "I'm in a bad way" then it's usually drug shit. It means that I'm fucked up, really really fucked up. Like when I took that lyrica shit, I was in a bad way. To me a bad way is almost always physical. I worry about Lauren. She's very very very depressed, her parents are alcoholics, and she's become a giant stoner. She said she was in her car a 2 minute drive from her house. I hope she's okay. I hope she's not really in trouble. I texted her later that she was freaking me out because she is, but she never responded. I hate dealing with this shit. Now I'm worried about her. I really wonder what's going on, probably her rents were fighting so she split. She does that pretty often, usually she calls Nina, so I was surprised when she called me. I'm not her "go to person" like Nina is, so Nina probably went over and got her. My thought is that A) she split because her parents were fighting, or B) she's really thinking about offing herself... I'm going to guess A just because it happens really often. I wonder if it's somehow related to coping some drug. Fuck, well, I can't do anything about it now, so I'll just wait to find out.

I think that I'm definitely going to this exchange in the les when I go to the city next weekend. It's for youth, so you have to be under 24 to go to the place. It's for homeless youth and youth involved with the streets (haha, well, I walk on the streets.... apparently drug use is related to being involved with the streets, so I guess I'm included, or something like that). I'm kinda wondering what it will be like, but I feel like they'll probably be nice to me and not treat me like shit if I go there. The idea of exchanges kinda freaks me out in general, I don't know, I guess I'm worried about A) cops, B) them giving me a hard time (I guess that makes me no sense, the whole point is to help, right? though a whole lotta people say they want to help but they just try to fuck you over), or C) them turning me away or making me do something I don't want to do (I don't know, they make me suspicious). Tanzen should be thinking "what the fuck" when we go there, but I have a feeling she'll think this is really cool (or some other shit). I guess I'm exploiting that factor in Tanzen because she listens to me talk about all my junky shit and will still be friends with me.  Haha, something about it evokes that whole sense in me that enjoys a good adventure, especially ones that include my favorite things. Also, nothing really bad could happen, I mean, sure, I could get turned away, but beyond that I think it will be okay.

Tomorrow I have to go to my doctor's house in uptown, which won't be fun. I have to wake up at 6:45, which sucks so much. I woke up at 12 today and I'm still tired. I have to do a lot of work for school, it starts on thursday (which is a horrible thought). I have 50 pages left to read, a book of poetry to read too, an essay to write, answer 2 questions, rearrange 18 questions (my friends and I are sharing answers), write an outline, and highlight a chapter. So much work, so little time. I'm going to try to do some of the bullshit on the train tomorrow. I can easily do all of it, I've just been super lazy. It's half I don't give a shit and half I would rather be high, and together they make me not want to do anything. I spend a good part of the time this week thinking about getting high, then getting high, then thinking about how dumb that was, then getting high again, haha, then hanging out with people at which point we would get high. I think I've spent every night for the past week high, and I've changed it up, which is surprising (if it was all the same thing it wouldn't be so surprising). Maybe I need to relax and focus on something else for a while. = )

I just found out Lauren is fine, guess who was there? Nina. Nina came and got her. As I said, I could bet my life on it, Nina is always there to pick Lauren up when she's "in a bad way." I'm so not surprised that I'm almost annoyed. I'm kinda glad that Nina cleans up all of those messes because Lauren is such a handful (haha, she's a mucky pup). I would deal with it if she wanted my help, but she never does. The last time I had to deal with this was in May or June and she was high. We're all stoned out of our heads and she's talking about killing herself to Nina and I. Nina takes the lead and I'm just standing there not sure what the fuck I'm supposed to do. It's just always been really stressful. I love the kid, but it's hard to talk someone down, never one of the things I've enjoyed. 

Anyway, I should be heading off to bed. This post has been pretty boring for everyone else I'm sure, so I'll end it now...

BTW, I think "ca plan pour moi" roughly translates into "it's gliding for me" which really means "being high works for me." = ) 

It's a good song, it's in French, which kinda sucks, but that's okay. It's by Plastic Bertrand.

I am a cliche

We smoked weed at the end of the culdasac. I was kind of freaking out as I sit there passing the pipe back and forth, we only got two hits each out of the bowl she packed. I didn't really care, I wasfreaking out just sitting here. I was glad that I was not at home at least, I'd been way too high this weekend and if I had sat home I would have lost all self control. One hit left, better save it. Two weeks until the Reagan Youth show. My friend wants me to get her shrooms when I get to the city, but I don't really feel like it. Tanzen really wants to get some, so I guess I might do it for my friend if we do go buy some, but I might take a bit of my other friend's money (she's such a bitch constantly, so I don't really care, and I'm getting her shit). Tanzen needs to talk to Sean, I'm worried the child will forget (she's a bit forgetful). This whole decision to score in the city is making me thing more and more about going to this needle exchange on the les. I could always just go to a pharmacy and buy some, but I'm not so set on that idea (teenager walks in with mohawk asking to buy needles, oh yeah, everyone would be cool with that, people shouldn't make stereotypes, but they do). The idea of an exchange kinda scares me though, I guess it's a fear of the unknown or some shit like that, I'm sure I'm just thinking like a crazy person. Anyway, all this thinking I'm having about shots and such is too much for me at this moment. But, I did post these two links for your amusement, they both made me laugh. = )

Uncyclopedia on junk

Uncyclopedia on my husband