Umm... Happy New Year... or something like that...

Okay, so because I suck at doing this right now... I'm just gonna make a list of awesome shit happening...

-Seeing Mike on Saturday for the first time in 4 MONTHS.

-Punk show my friend set up for me the next Saturday, all of my fav bands are playing.

-Punk show the weekend after that which I set up.

-Seeing all of my friends...

-Hopefully getting to jam before I go back to Paris...

-Oh yeah, and I've been sober from all stupidity for 2 and a half like legitimate months or so... and I was really worried I would fuck it up when I got home, but I haven't, and I don't plan on it.

- IT'S THE BEGINNING OF A NEW AWESOME DECADE... I go between really freaking the fuck out about the new year to be excited. I'm excited. A bit scared, but excited nonetheless.

- I wrote a whole paper for school about when I first started doing drugs and the lying that goes along with it. I talked about Laura ODing and dying, and about me being one of the lucky ones, and blah blah blah other self-obsessed crap... I did end up getting an A- on it though.

I really want to do drugs. I do. But then I try to remind myself that it'll only make me feel like terrible crap afterwards. That'll I'll get high for a while and push myself down into a hole afterwards. I'm gonna do my best to keep away from drugs, because I feel like the longer I stay sober, the better my moods will be, and the easier it will be to keep away.

An entire life of no getting really high? It sounds kind of sucky. But, I'm gonna keep trying to not think of that aspect and instead focus on just keeping it up for now.

Everyone at my school knows, my friends have called me a "drug addict," talked about my "track marks" (these kids wouldn't know track marks if they had them on their own arms, but I'm trying not to really yell at them or get offended), and enjoy reminding me not to do drugs. It's good in some ways and bad in others. I mean, I just hate that name "drug addict." I don't know, I try not to rock the boat because they mean well. I definitely am glad to have people looking after me.

One of the times when I took all of this codeine in Paris (haha, okay, so retarded... I'd never tried it and I decided to just get high, so this was my easiest method) I had basically an allergic reaction. My face grew flushed, I was hot, and itchy. Not like the regular kind of itch, a terrible completely overwhelming itching which covered my sweaty, red face and body. I took some cough syrup because it had antihistamine and suddenly it all went away. After that, I never had a problem with taking that shit again. It was extra bad because 2 of my friends were there and had no idea what was going on. One of my friends, had lots of "druggie" friends back home, so I'm sure she guessed something, I'd also told her about my past. But my other friend, Susana, I'm sure had no idea what was going on. I felt kind of bad, but I was fairly high afterwards, so it was fine with me.

So, it's now time to bring in 2010... a new decade. The first no opiated New Years for me since I started doing drugs. I'm gonna get drunk, and I probably won't really smoke any weed. I got way too high last night. Lauren told me it was called "creeper weed," because you'd smoke some and then a few minutes later you would get a lot higher and you wouldn't notice. I was literally like special ed level last night. Lauren even told me as much. I don't think I can handle it. It really made me depressed and it just sucked in some ways. But I have a few beers (aka 2) and some rum (aka about 4 shots...), and I will drink all of this and then Nina is bringing a bottle of vodka, so I'll be well taken care of. I would rather get high, but not happening.

Anyway, I hope you all have an awesome New Year's!

- Lucy = )

24 days of greatness!

Today was awesome! I got another test back, and it was another A! Yeah, I kind of knew I wasn't bad at languages, but I feel really competent right now. Mike (my anarchist, cleaned-up-heroin-addict, 22 year old, boyfriend) distracted me for a good 2 hours of time telling me all the things he wanted to do to me over the internet. I love him, what can I say?

It's weird because I'm not used to knowing junkies, I've known a few and they were mostly all cleaned up, or I wasn't aware of them doing the drugs they were doing at the time. It's cool because I am really honest with him about what I'm thinking, but I think that he kind of shrinks away from it. I don't know, that bothers me a bit, but I don't wanna fuck up his sobriety by making him think about it too much. When I first met him, like the 2nd or 3rd date? I told him about how I got my scar and shit, and he said A) he had never met a girl who had shot dope, and B) he had never met anyone who shot pills. That kinda surprised me, haha. So, I think, that, it was two firsts for both of us: I was meeting a junky that I was actually friends with, and he was meeting a girl junky.

Hahaha, I know, how romantic?

But, I gotta keep myself away from thinking about us doing drugs together, although I like it. We've only smoked weed together, besides once when we did E with his sister and her husband. Weed isn't much of a turn on, 'cause it's not much of a drug. But watching him snort the E, it was hot, I wanted to prove to him like: yeah, I can keep up with you, we're drug-equals. Maybe it's the whole thing that I never talked about my drug use until after my real everyday slog of drugs was over with, and so I now wanna brag... But not much to brag about?

I had a really bad period this summer. I came into a lot of oxy. And everytime I would get it, I would do one medium sized line... and then the next day I would do one line, and then do another line an hour later. Until, I would have a fucking pile and 4 hours it would be all up my nose. I also broke out my old kit, but the works were too gunged up to be used... thank god, I guess. I probably would've been in a worse predicament. I think that Mike may have noticed the few little bruises and bumps that occurred, but I think he just thought it was part of the larger scar there. It's such a fucked up area, which is good because it disguises bruises really easily, you can't tell besides like that first day. I haven't shot up in... like a year and a half. Holy fuck, seems like forever ago and like yesterday.

This woman had to draw blood out of my arm one morning, and she really fucked it up. I don't even mean like a little pricks, it was as if she had never tried to hit a vein before. Okay, so I know the veins in my right arm are hard to hit. I'm pretty sure I've cried out of frustration trying and failing to hit any in that arm. So, after digging, and I mean, re-angling the needle while it was still in my arm, she moved on to my forearm. Now, maybe I'm allowed to shove a needle all the way through my own vein, but someone else isn't. She put the needle THROUGH my vein, and brought it back up to try and catch it. The bruise was huge and Mike was asking me where she tied me off and shit, haha, he was like: I could've done this for you, and I wouldn't have hurt you.

I know, I know, I shouldn't be so enamored of that... but I can't help it? I love drugs. I love him. Together, it just sounds like heaven. That's honeslty what I kept thinking after we fucked (well, I fucked) for the first time... the only thing that could make this better was a shot or a line... Damn. Now, that's saying something in my mind. If the only thing better than what just happened, is victory in drug form, then obviously, something is going right.

I feel like, though, at 18, I can't promise I'm not going to "experiment" with harder drugs than weed and X... I don't wanna do speed, not so good with the uppers. Coke is not good for me either. X was alright, but really fucks with me, I'd do it again, it's fun, but definitely not something I'd wanna do a lot. I wanna do H so bad, cause I know I'd enjoy it more than the other drugs that I'm gonna have to do instead.

I cried the other night thinking about a completely sober life, but today I feel like I could do it. I'm definitely getting the whole waves of depression. Last night was bad, today is alright, tomorrow who knows... I'm getting a little paranoid too, which isn't so awesome. I gotta remind myself though when I have those thoughts that it's just my brain reaching for something to get me back to doing drugs. I do wanna stay away for a few years, and see about really staying clean for a while, like getting through college. I mean, it scares the shit out of me, which I think is weird, but it's my biggest fear. No drugs. No relief from my emotions. That whole having to face shit and my mind doesn't work well, but I'm gonna try. Worse comes to worse I start using drugs again, not the end of the world, it's just a fact that I have to learn to live with, that I've fucked up my thought processes and that's the way it's gonna be probably the rest of my life.

But, if Mike gets back on heroin, which he has warned me might happen, I have two options: A) leave him if I don't plan on using with him because you can't really be sober dating a junky, I don't think that would work for me, or B) going down that path with him. I don't think I'll have to make that decision though anytime soon, haha, so I got time to decide if it does come to that. Hopefully it won't. Hopefully I'll adjust to the sober life and be a sober prospering person for the rest of my life... hahahaha, yeah, doesn't even sound real to me either.

Well, I don't know, I'm in a good mood tonight guys!

Love to all of your who are still here!

And anyone new!

- Lucy! = )

22 days of legitimate sobriety...

So... I haven't blogged in forever because summer was insane lots of boy shit lots of drug shit lots and lots of shit.

But I'm now in Paris, and I'll get back to what went on over in a bit for those of you who don't know. SO I'M HERE.

I am fiending. I am fiending like I always do without drugs for a long period of time. Not that I would really know what a long period of time is, I did like 3 months sober two springs ago, but I started up again because I just can't seem to stay away. Umm... so yeah, I'm stuck sober. And I guess I'm staying sober because I know that I can't do drugs around Mike, and I like him enough that that matters to me. Not that we're together right now, I just know that if I started doing anything serious back in NYC he would either begin doing it with me, or he would cut me off from him completely. That's the upside and downside to have a cleaned up junky for a bf. He pisses me off occasionally because he talks to me like I'm some little puppy, as if I didn't know that if I (me, not the general I) started doing smack I would get hooked. I wanted to be like: oh, thanks, because obviously I don't know how my own fucking brain works, and hadn't figured that out for myself before.

I see the junkies on the metro here, one guy had a really fucked up arm, scabbed up with shadows running all over it. I just sat there feeling sick, my stomach has been fucked up this week. Everything in my digestive tract seems to get liquified, I've been getting the sweats too, and feeling dizzy... WHAT THE FUCK? I really don't know what I did to my body, and why it's sending me these signals, which I usually translate into: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU SHOVE THAT INTO YOUR BLOODSTREAM MORON? But at the moment, I'm clean... but it's bad.

I'm not clean for the right reasons, and I think this is gonna end in a crash and burn when I end up back in NYC... because right now all I wanna do is get high. I wanna get high so bad. I have a sleeping pill I swiped from this guy, he didn't want it, so I figured he wouldn't notice it was gone and def wouldn't blame me... I looked up what it was, sadly I gotta swallow it, but ehh, I figure I'll save it for a day that I'm in need.

I keep getting bad drugs dreams. They were bad in August, still bad now... I just miss drugs. I want them so bad. I don't want to have to deal with the inside of my mind. I just want to delete it all. I WANT TO HIT THE FUCKING BUTTON AND ERASE MY STUPIDITY AND MY ISSUES AND MY WANTS. I wanna pretend that I'm not me for the next few fucking hours and put my mind on hold.

I just told Mike I had a blog, not like he's ever gonna see this shit. And he was like: oook, straange. And I wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, 'cause he can be faulted for a lot more shit than me blogging.

Sometimes, I just want to do smack just to spite him, just a little, just for him thinking he knows everything there is to know about me and drugs. We kind of admitted to each other that we wish we could just get high together and lay around in his apartment together... which could be followed by another story where I passed on nodding out with him there, which kind of sounds like the nicest thing ever. I'd love to wake up and see him there. I had my wisdom teeth out, and shit, anyway, I didn't do it, figured that A) I wouldn't be able to fuck and B) don't need to do that in front of him, when he's working hard to stay clean.

I'm thinking about December, going to TX, I know my family has some things to my liking in the medicine cabinet, I stole some last year... but I felt REALLY guilty. Like, probably the most guilt and embarrassment and shame I have ever felt in my life. I can't even explain it.

The other night I was laying in bed, and I was thinking about being sober, and how I could be possibly facing a life with no more opiates. ever. Never ever gonna feel it again. And I cried. I'm not even gonna lie and pretend like I can handle things like that normally, because apparently I can't. I can't do drugs like a normal person. I can't fucking handle anything. I fucking cried.

But I didn't tell Mike. I feel bad. I feel just ashamed that I'm so fucking weak.

Whatever.

I'm weak.

I'm 18 and I wanna 'experiment' (yeah, right, we can pretend it's experimentation, I'm still young enough to call it that)...

BTW, I STILL fucking hate uppers. I did x. WHY? Because well, Mike was doing it, and his sister and her husband were doing it, and it was fun... kinda. But my brain was like YOU ARE AN IDIOT, AND I'M DITCHING THIS SHIT. I swear to god my brain wanted to jump out of my fucking skull...

Well, anyway, I'm alone in Paris with my classmates... I'm a cleaned up junky... am I junky? WHAT THE FUCK AM I EVEN? I DON'T EVEN KNOW. I just want the wanting to stop. I want to be normal. I hate it.

Fucked up in the big city,

- Lucy...

Kicks

Fuckedy fuckedy fuck. Tomorrow is prom. No. I shit you not. Tomorrow is prom. I am having some issues dealing with the stress of getting all ready and shit for it. Also all of the money its costing me is driving me up a tree, its driving me bananas.

What's more concerning is that my entire class, including me and my friends, are going down the shore for the weekend. This is obviously gonna be a lot of fun, and I am excited to get retardedly drunk (but not puking) with my friends (who I will most likely have to clean up after, because they are self-proclaimed light-weights). Haha, its kind of adorable (until they puke). We're buying an 8th and I think bringing down 2 30-packs (but I think I'm gonna see about getting some Bud and some PBR, because apparently my friends don't like appealing beer). What I am concerned for is that someone is going to get arrested. And possibly me, or one of my close friends. This will mean a lot of annoying shit for some of us to deal with, and a lot of terrible repercussions. I can't get in trouble because I need a visa for studying in France next year. Anyway, I'm trying not to have a panic attack, which is making me pine for some medication, but there is none to be found, so I keep just sleeping it off. The only thing that I have been taking to help is Ambien CR because it takes my focus away from the panicky feeling and onto the thought of something for my brain to snack on until I fall asleep for a long while.

The only real news I have to report on the topic of drugs is:

A) I have done coke. I was so drunk and hopped up on Amp (I was trying to sober up using energy drinks), that I barely felt it. But I DID feel the hangover the next day, and it was terrible, especially because I couldn't sleep due to all the caffeine I had been chugging. I don't know if I'll ever do that again, probably if my friends are doing it next time and not creepy 26 year olds who want to get in my pants. (BTW, totally didn't work, still a virgin, haha).

B) I've realized the lay of the land when it comes to drugs in the scene:

• Crusties (homeless) - They're main real estate is H (and booze).
• Regular punks - Booze, weed, speed, and cocaine.
• Skinheads - Booze and cocaine.
• Crusties (not homeless) - Weed and booze.

At least, this is what I've gathered from what I've seen and experienced. It's mostly accurate for what's going down out here, but obviously, some people only do one thing, some people do several. I find it interesting to see whose doing what. Mostly I just know regular punks, and I see mostly crusties and punks at the shows I go to, depending on the band. Skinheads sometimes turn out to the shows I frequent, but usually if they are there only one or two unless its a hardcore band.

I don't know, I'm trying to calm down. I almost slapped my boss today. Did I tell you, I'm working at a title insurance company? It's terrible as fuck. I make 35 cents above minimum wage, my boss is such a money grubber. Anyway, I was Skyping a fellow employee, and I said "Yeah, that's what I meant, sorry." My boss saw this, and while she's on speaker phone with a client, runs over to my desk waves her hand in my face and tells me that, "NO Y-E-A-H, NO YEAH, WE ONLY USE BUSINESS LANGUAGE. BUSINESS LANGUAGE!" Now, if you want to shut me down, well that's a pretty great way. So before I could yell at her that I'm not a fucking dog and haven't been trained to respond to hand signals, I told her that I wasn't feeling well (she had mentioned something about how I had looked tired earlier), and preceded to leave. She can kiss my ass if she thinks she's gonna treat me like that. Fuck her. I'm not gonna take that.

Anyway, I've missed you guys since I've been off. When I'm depressed I have trouble going on the computer, also, without drugs the internet can make me feel panicky and I worry about what people will say and what I will have to deal with, etc. etc. (I know it's ridiculous, but that's just how my mind works).

I love you all!

- Lucy = )

I AM A BAMF

Okay, so, I am so fucking happy and shit... you don't even know right now...

Last night, Zack's aunt and cousin were off with relatives over night. So, being a 17 year old, I spent then night!!!! Now, me being me, as I told my friend who was "afraid for my vcard": my vcard is intact. Obviously, some shit happened, but you guys definitely don't want details. But, the night was just so much fun. Mostly, we just hang out, said dumb shit to one another, watched dumb tv shows. His mother called last night, she was really drunk. It took him like 40 minutes to get her off the phone as we walked around and I tried to stifle my laughter. The funniest thing was when she said to him: "Is your girlfriend there?" "Is Sarah there? Don't lie to me." And the second time he said yes sarcastically, and she said, "awww." Haha, I had to fucking run out of the room because i was dying. She also called him a cracker. I wore his clothes and shit when we went to bed. In the morning I made us eggs for breakfast, and we watched dumb shows on Lifetime.

One of the best quotes of the night was when he was like, I'll go sleep on the sofa, and I asked if he was afraid and he says: "I have no problem sleeping with you."

THE NIGHT BEFORE:

I got drunk and high after the Reagan Youth show. It was such a great show. I got thrown from the back to the front of the pit and just like being shoved everywhere. Pat kept letting me sing into the mic. I love seeing Reagan Youth because everyone gets so into it and everyone knows the words. There was this big skinhead with read hair who was obviously into me, and kept trying to hit on me. There were three kids who were obviously on speed, you should have seen them, haha. They were like rubbing their hair and their arms and fidgeting and talking at lightening speed. At first I only saw one and thought he just had problems, and then when I saw all three I realized they were high. Good times. Good bands. Good friends. Man, it was a great night. I have some really hardcore missing patches of skin on my arm (from getting dragged from the front of the pit into the floor of the circle pit. Like legit, and then people as they do, hoisted me up and I had to fight my way back to the standing pit.) I like circle pits, but I'm just no coordinated enough to fully enjoy them. Tanzen and I got back to her house and finished up this cranberry vodka we had. Then we smoked about 4 bowls in the park, and got back and tried to play cards (it was so retarded). So, I'm trying to quit because of the crying on the train last weekend and shit, but to no avail. No opiates though, since the 4th of January. Fuck. Well, I don't know. I hate weed. I'm just worried about getting drug tested and coming up positive for weed and getting in trouble because it would be such a waste.

Well, I wonder if I love Zack, I think I love him. I've decided to just take it one day at a time and not think about it.

Well, I love you guys!

- Lucy = )

Liar

I don't know what's up with me and being so against weed and alcohol, but it's just bizarre. Honestly, in my twisted mind, opiates, speed, coke - oh that's all fine - but weed and alochol is horrible. I'm talking to Tanzen on the phone about how I don't want to be around Nina and Lauren while they're drinking and she says, "Uhh, I don't think it's as bad as what you're planning on doing!" I know, it's a fucked up logic, okay... My response to what she said was, "I'm not doing that, I'm not doing drugs, I've quit.".... haha, oh, maybe after right now. Fuck, I'm so dumb...

Halloween is more up in the air than before. I could go into the city and see Tanzen and spend the night running around the village and seeing the parade and going to Rocky Horror and having a good time. I think I'm going to go. It makes me nervous, but it's better than being alone at home.

I've been very melancholy for the past few days.... I don't have much to say. I got an A- on my last Statistics test (I know you're excited about that!) I'm also enjoying all of the good movies on television right now, the dumb halloween ones and Scariest Places on earth!

Check ya later!

Lady be good, do what you should, you know it will be alright

I can't sleep. I'm really bent out of shape. It's due to my friends. What I've come to realize is that, even if I'm not that close to people, seeing other people really fucked up on drugs or drink really bothers me. I saw Ashley the other day, high off of her ass (my guess is the first time in 4 months), smiling at me, telling me how "life is so good right now." I couldn't help but smile and say, "how many hours until life sucks again?" Her eyes were watery and blood shot, but beyond that she seemed pretty normal (ironically). But, this is really about Nina and Lauren. Nina and Lauren want to get drunk on Halloween and go trick-or-treating. I don't like drinking - in fact I kind of hate it. I have no desire to drink whatsoever, especially not coming home drunk. I hate how both of them just want to deplete their brain cells until there's nothing left. I know, I sound hypocritical. I am, but I can't help it. Weed and beer are just such a waste of a brain. All that it causes is for them to feel worse about themselves in the long run. I'm not saying that dope is far above other drugs, I just know that when I get really high on weed I hate myself, but when I'm off on the nod I don't really give a fuck. Watching someone get dependent on drugs is so much worse than you yourself getting addicted. I hate it. I feel so powerless and I just wish I could make all their pain go away, ya know? That's the thing, I can handle myself and the shit that I cause for myself, but other people, I can't deal with my friends being messed up.

I am also feeling particularly awkward and moronic lately. I can't seem to shake this feeling that I am some kind of joke. I don't know, I'm PMSing, which is just making everything a debacle. At the moment, I feel utterly hopeless and depressed and like a shit head. Come tomorrow I may feel just like Jesus' son. I think it's cause of this video of me from the show on saturday, I was listening to WWIX and so I didn't care how dumb i may have looked. But, God, did I look like a moron. That's just going to bother me now. At punk shows, I generally don't care, and now I'm going to think about it.

I just wish I could talk to people about this bull shit, and they could make it all better and just explain it all away. I wish I could tell my mother, she always makes me feel better when I'm freaking out. I can't stand all of this. I don't want to do anything, I just don't see the point, I feel suicidal, but it's just passing. That's the thing, I'm so wound up in my mind that emotions just become mental explanations. That's the only way I've ever been able to deal with shit, but turning it into explanations - it's also the only way I can have any self-control. Fuck, I just need to go back to sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day. It just has to be.

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.

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.

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

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.

Nervous Breakdown

I can't focus at all right now. Every time I try to focus on Kant's categorical imperative or why it has to be a universal law or why the hypothetical law can't be moral, I just think about all this other stuff. I'm watching Made. This whiny little 15 year old girl is trying to become a skateboarder, and she won't stop her mother from controlling her. It's really scary to think that people can be controlled like this and how her mother can't see it. Luckily, the girl finally told her mother. I don't know why I'm  watching this dribble, but it's not helping me focus.

Anthony broke his toe today, so we couldn't go out like we planned. I haven't seen him in like 3 weeks and it's driving me nuts. Of course he would break his toe today, haha, that's so not surprising.

With all of these thoughts crowding my brain I want to take some bleach and just wash it clean. This is not helping me at all. If I could I would just stop thinking entirely because with thoughts comes ideas. And with ideas comes actions. So, if I keep thinking I'm going to do something and be pissed at my self later.

I think I'm going to make myself some soup. By putting food into my body it will A) take up my time, B) take up my action, and C) make me feel better. I'm replacing drugs with food, which really isn't going to happen. I'll bet you a million bucks that by 8 I'm high. Make it 2 million. I shouldn't be thinking this way, but that's how I feel.

Even all of this shit is going on, I'm not in such a bad mood. I'll eat some soup, I'll watch some tv, and I'll write  some more philosophy... oh joy!

Ping-pong

I feel like I bounce between wanting to recover and not caring. On one side, I know that recovery will make me less paranoid, more of my own person mentally. But on the other side I don't want to leave everything, there is a reason why I keep coming back.

It's funny, today was a bad day and a good day. Bad on the level- all I could think about was getting high. Good on the level - I hung out with people, bought a new shirt, went to class, and generally didn't feel too bad besides... well, you already know. I felt very content, but everyday that I move from my last hit makes me nervous. I don't know why I'm scared, but I'm terrified. I lay in bed and I wonder what I'm going to do. It makes me think of the song "Success" by Iggy Pop: "Here comes success/ over my hill." That whole feeling of, "Yeah, it's coming." But I don't know. It all makes me feel young. I don't know how to say it other than that. I'm too young to be dealing with this stuff, but I am. I think about years in weird ways now, years seem short and don't really illustrate time. Time is long and idle, time is like those minutes that don't end but seem to sit and wait.

My scar is really itching. I had an infection in it last fall, it's purple and pink and the skin itches a lot. Honestly, there's nothing like getting an abscess to make you feel like a dumbass. It's like, "Oh... that was dumb..." I knew there was something wrong, but nope had to get a fix, so I just stuck the needle through it. Fuck it hurt, but I mean, you take the hit and then you don't really care. It's weird. It's so weird to think about it. It was my own damn fault, so I mean, I paid for everything that happened afterwards and I guess before it.

There's this kid I know who is always telling me how she, "would try heroin." Now, that scares the shit out of me. Here is my friend, someone who I would risk my neck for, but she is saying this shit. It's weird to have to talk someone out of it. I think she just says, "well you've done it, what's the big deal?" I don't know how to get through to her how bad it is. Ya know, it's like, I can't make her see it. I just wish she wouldn't say those kinda things, it scares me to think that it could be my fault. That's how I would feel. It's one thing to fuck yourself up, but it's another to hurt a good friend. I simply do no have the right to destroy someone in that manner. I wouldn't turn her on or anything, but I just would feel like I was responsible. She is the only one who I have ever been completely honest to from the start about my own use. (It's funny but I can't seem to say the a-word, it's like if I think it it's one thing, but I can't get myself to write it). A-D-D-I-C-T-I-O-N. Holy crap... I don't even want to think it. I want to erase, but I won't. It's the truth. I can tell truth from lies better than ever before, that's the other change that I've noticed. Once you plead the same case over and over you know how you lie, to hear other people do it is funny. I guess it's not a good thing, but I can see it.

Would it be ironic to say that I'm in a much better mood after writing all of this? But, I do, I feel better.

It's a mental twist

It's been bad for the past week or so. Extra bad. The kind of things that you read about in books but you don't get to experience first hand. Unless you're a junky. It's funny but a lot of the time I smell things that remind me of shooting up. That's the weird part, you can't predict it. I can't tell you what's going to make me want to get high, but when it happens it hits home. I haven't taken a shot since January. Not that I didn't try. My works are all busted up and kinda gross, and the scar tissue on my arm with the good vein is really painful and makes it even harder. I think that the farther you get away from doing it, the more you romance it. You don't think about stabbing and stabbing and stabbing your arm, you just think about the high afterwards. The biggest problem with people who haven't tried opiates is that they romance it. They think of Trainspotting or something other movie and they think, "wow, those guys seem so cool. I could be like them..." But there's no reality in that, not that there is much reality in anything.

I have gear but I keep not using it, which is weird in itself. You'd assume that if my mind was focusing on getting high all day for a week I would just use it, but I can't seem to. It's this whole thing where if I use I won't have any more and I'm afraid of that. I keep saying that I won't use, but I say, "On thursday I will." Then thursday rolls around, "On saturday I will." I keep pushing it back, but I guess that's a good thing. Or something. I really want to, I'm just afraid of not having any gear.

Another weird thing is that I haven't really been thinking about shooting up until last week. You see, I usually just snort it, or swallow a pill, mostly because of my problems with my arm. But this week I just kept thinking about it. I just kept picturing the spoon and watching everything kinda swirl and the cotton and watching it become empty. I see needles and I want to puke. I want it. That's all I want. I want it so bad.

If you wanna hear a good song, which makes me chuckle: "Not If You Were the Last Junkie On Earth" by the Dandy Warhols. I just kept listening to it on the train today over and over.

Cravings

At the moment I want it. I want it really bad. It's not the average kind of desire, but a need that lives in the pit of your stomach. It started this morning, I woke up and was asked how I felt, and at that moment I knew that I wanted. So, I said, "Shit." I waited listening, for each stair to be hit, for the door to be closed, for silence to envelope the house. I got up, feeling nauseous, but I could do it. I opened the cabinet and grabbed my hit, an extra for good look. As I walked into the bathroom and looked at my hand I smiled. Toothy and young, naive? No, not then, never have been, not since August. I swallowed it down with water and I grabbed my computer, a bowl of cereal, looking around the web, feeling, ok, allowing my head to feel heavy, to feel thick, like someone had weighted it. The thought makes me want it more, right now, if I could I would steal it, I would sell anything for it, for a lifetime of that feeling. Fuck. Fuck? You mean fucked up? Well, maybe, but I'm young, too young. Or something like that? As, I walked into the den, I began to put on a DVD, I had moved too much and now knew what would happen. I squeezed the trashcan between my knees and exhaled, inhale, exhale. Deep breaths, moved my hair behind my ears. I studied the rotting banana at the bottom and I gave back the "Wheat Chexs" that I had eaten only a few hours earlier. I guess you might understand? Do you understand? I wasn't like this a year ago, or was I? Is this dormant? Have I always been fucked up? I don't want to be, I want to be free. I want to be happy, or something like that? Right? Maybe not, for a while I thought that a needle exchange down the street would be pretty cozy, haha, but not now. I quit that game. But scars don't quit. Mental, physical, it's all the same game, some just seem more apparent to passersby. They're both real though, more real than you can see, and sometimes when I the mental scars bleed the physical ones repeat it, as a reminder, a hint at what you once did. What I once did. So, guess what I'm doing, maybe you'll get a prize? Probably not, but at least you'll feel special, and isn't that what we all want.