I'm One

Humidity hung thick, as we walked back down the street to find the deli for more beer. The empty blocks of warehouses covered in graffiti and piss reverberated as I yelled how all I wanted were some drugs, please. I guess it wasn't really helping the situation, as we stumbled 200 feet behind a friend and her two acquaintances (allegedly I kicked one of the acquaintances in the head, after announcing that I wouldn't), making sure not to draw any attention to ourselves. They disappeared into a store about a block ahead of us, which we followed them into.

WE HAD FOUND IT.

THE CLOSEST DELI.

Yeah, I know. Pretty anti-climactic. Sorry about that. I wanted to draw you guys in, I guess. I'll recap the last few months as quick as I can:

-dated really sweet guy, forced to break up with him because he was too needy

-dropped acid for the first time--I now understand the squirrels (we climbed trees all day in Central Park)

-ran out of speed

-bought pot for the first time in ages

-offered speed by a friend, who sadly ended up leaving for a trip before I could procure it from her

-was given NuVigil by another friend to help counteract the inability I have to being awake before 12:30

-and am now sitting here... recuperating from a night of beer, punk shows, and fights (not me fighting, but everyone else around us, at one point I was in a hallway with a fight going on at each end).

I've been journaling a lot, sadly not on here. (by a lot, I mean for the past few days on the train).

I'm gonna keep posting stuff here though. I'm just bored, and empty. Like, it's not the depression kind of empty, it's the when-I-look-to-gage-my-emotions-there-doesn't-seem-to-be-any-occurring empty. I'm excited to try the NuVigil, I just need to entertain my brain some more. I'm hopefully getting money to buy coke with this week. My friend has really good connects, and so I'm going to share a bit with her as a finders fee. I figure that's only fair, seeing as how she's working at this cafe with me, and new hires don't get paid for like a month and a half after they start. I don't know, I'm hoping that will entertain me for long enough.

Anyway, I'm mad tired, and distracted by some crazy vampire movie on SyFy...

I'll post later after I try the NuVigil and maybe about the acid.

Night kids!

- Lucy

P.S. Anyone get raptured yesterday?

I got a Gibson, without a case, but I can't get that even-tanned look on my face, ill-fitting clothes and I blend in the crowd, fingers so clumsy, voice too loud, but I'm one, I am one, and I can see that this is me, and I will be, you'll all see I'm the one...

Dial "M" for Motherfucker

Someone stole my wallet today. I had laughed about it before I had realized it was actually truly missing, thinking: gosh, that crackhead would be disappointed when he realized there was only 13 bucks in it. That cunt charged 100$ on my credit card for the subway. Asshole. The bank, luckily, cancelled the card and is going to refund me the money.

But I guess, at least, the speed tucked in my bedroom drawer is here to keep me entertained and off the many nagging thoughts of all the shit I'm going to have to do in the coming days. I'm on break from school right now until the end of January. It's nice to be away from everything. I've just been reading and hanging out with people.

I've finished two books by my favorite new author in the past 3 days. Tony O'neill is amazing. Read his shit. Ironically, his auto-biography is the least interesting of the 3, I've read. I think I like Down and Out on Murder Mile the best, with Sick City at a close second.

Anyway, hope you guys are having a better day than I am,

Sincerely (and stuff),

- Lucy

Full Speed Ahead

So... I haven't posted in forever. I've been you know living the college life, with a suicidal roommate, a pension for smoking pot in the bathrooms late at night, and a few other tricks and treats up my sleeves (usually, literally). I just felt like documenting last night. I think its because my brain is slowly warming up again. I woke up this morning and new that the barbiturates had kicked in hard... it took me close to half an hour to roll over finally and get up. My suitemate was "grumpy" because her card wasn't working in the laundry room, which annoyed me because the aftermath of any time spent with speed is like I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU LEAVE ME ALONE NOW. But, I cooled off, tea helped.

Last night began with my friends inviting me to go to a party with them, that they had been invited to by a mutual friend. They said they were going to go over around 11, which was fine. After I got off work I was in a terrible mood, it wasn't even like a "Wow, I could really use some drugs right now," kind of mood, it was like "Just making everything stop right now is all I want." I don't know, I guess apathy is becoming contagious. Finally, though, I decided it would be fun to do some speed and then go to the party. I took two fair sized bumps in the bathroom out of one of those contact cases with the two circular divets. I didn't feel much at first, which was surprising to me, but I figured as long as I didn't feel the drip down my throat, it'd be all good because I wanted to sleep at some point. Finally, around 11:20 my friends text me, that oh, they're tired and aren't going to the party. My roommate was also blown off by her friends, so we decided to go outside for a cigarette break because I needed something with the speed kicking in. As we walked through the courtyard, I saw the acquaintance who had invited my friends to the party, and told her what was up. She, before I even mentioned the party, invited me and my roommate, and so we went up to her room to smoke out the window as she changed.

Anyway, we left in a bit, my roommate didn't want to go out, so it was just me and (the) A(cquaintance). This girl had been trying to get into my lesbian friend's pants for a long time, but it wasn't happening. We talked about the normal stuff boy/girl troubles, etc. etc.. By the time we were at the house, a good 15 block walk, she said to me: "This is the fastest I've ever walked to Avenue B," which made me chuckle a tiny bit on the inside. Anyway, the party was in classic NYU fashion. People were coked up, most of the guys were gay (I think besides about 3 to 4 out of like 30 people). There were very few girls, ALTHOUGH, I did see a girl I had taken a summer course with about 3 years ago. It was badass, and yet very odd. We talked for like 10 minutes until we both had run out of things to say, and she moved to the other side of the couch to talk to her friends. We wandered around onto the balcony and around the rooms, having weird conversations with people. I had about 3 glasses of this punch they were serving out of a big rubbermaid container, which was tasty, but I could barely feel it.... which makes sense. I had this one moment where I was like, "What if there are more barbiturates in my system than speed, and with the alcohol, I OD?" I then took my pulse and decided I would survive.

There were lots of moment, talking to drunken people, some who live in the same building as me, others from towns close to my hometown. I went home, ate some fries and drank a sprite. My suitemate couldn't sleep, it was too hot. As I told her to open the window and go back to sleep, because everything would be better in the morning, I wondered again what would happen if I ODed and she found me--just another shitty part of her shitty week.

At the moment I think the barbiturates are still in my system I feel like I'm about to pass out. Ugh, and I have to go to play practice. Yeah, I'm in a play. I'm a lesbian governess in a play. I hate everything right now, but I almost don't. I just feel so fucking apathetic. I want to care about something.

But I don't.

Anyway, sorry that I never post,

Hopefully I'll have a cheerier one in the future,

- Luce

Dexy's Midnight Runners...

I'm feeling the speed rumble in my belly and up to my head. It's like an electric shock down my spine. I want to run and run and run until I collapse. God I love it. It feels like butterflies in my stomach and I want more. Damn, speed. I'm saving some for the city. One day, I'm going to take a lot. And travel around the city. Feel the sidewalk lift up under my feet. It'd be so perfect. Early fall, still warm out, with a bloodstream full of speed. I so rarely take it, but it's so good. Damn. Damn. I wish I had someone to share this with. But everyone I know is too skiddish or is trying to get off drugs. Well, I say fuck all of that. Well, I probably wouldn't. Today I watched my friend pass out and hit her head in Walmart. I heard that sharp crack, I couldn't catch her in time. She's alright. But I can't even fucking save my friend. I know I'm a shitty person. But now I don't care and speed doesn't either. Speed speed speed. It just sounds cool, haha. I feel bad for her though, I was so worried about her. Her eyes rolled back after she hit the floor. I was worried she was having a seizure, but she wasn't. She's fine now, her head just hurts. I almost went to the hospital with her but her mom arrived. I'm glad she's alright. I had to run and get the cigarettes out of her car so that her parents wouldn't see. That's kind of hilarious. I sprinted through the parking lot to get them and then sprinted back. My dad got more oxy today. Tomorrow perhaps I'll take some if I'm feeling down from the speed. I move into the city in a week. Fuck. I can't wait. Life is alright I guess, I'm just gonna ride this wave out until I fall asleep.

To be Young (Is to be sad, Is to be high)

I turned off all the lights. The only light was from the computer and the TV--of course on mute.

"To Be Young" is the only sound. Running my fingers through my hair, I turned on the light.

I usually get high at night. In fact, I really only get high in the evening/night. I like the alone time, in the darkness, no one there to bother me. That is the one bad thing about me and like speed because damn, it is stupid to do speed in the evening. It wasn't the clean all night feeling I got from E, it felt dirty. I felt the sweat pouring off my body noticeably. Now obviously, my speed is a lot less combinations of drugs than E. But still, that's uncomfortable.

Honestly, I know why I'm getting high tonight. It's because I just have been seriously hating myself for the past few days. I feel like my self-loathing creeping up my back, over my shoulder, and around my neck. Today's started with the fact that, honestly, P does not fuck me as much as I would like. Perhaps it the age difference? Perhaps he doesn't think I want to? But, it makes you feel like a royal asshole trying to lead someone on, and they are unresponsive. We only fucked like TWICE. GODDAMNIT, I AM 19, THAT IS NOT ENOUGH. Haha, seriously though, now I have to like talk to him about it, which is fine, it's not that big a deal, but still kind of sucks. And then he kind of nicely hinted that he wanted me to leave. Granted, I did spend the night and stayed at his place until like 6 or so the next day. He is my boyfriend, and he does have to go to bed early since he does go to work at 3 am, and I'm sure he just wanted some time alone before he went to sleep... yeah, alright. So, that actually makes sense. I just don't want to feel like I'm somehow hassling him with my presence. I don't know. We're hanging out on Friday. Whatever. I still feel shitty. I will feel the same when whatever I decide to pop wears off. And now maybe I won't. Maybe I'll go to sleep. It's more of a thing taking them the actual effects of the drug.

Well, I'm going to go decide and either way just lie down.

Goodnight...

- Lucy

Like a Rolling Stone

My boyfriend isn't talking to me at the moment. He is sleeping or resting... his excuse? "I was up late last night on acid." I'm sorry, but that's a shitty excuse. I don't get why he would think this is an acceptable reason to not be talking. I mean, I'm not saying that how you feel after doing acid is a totally social one, much more about sleeping and chilling, but I don't like being put on the back burner. I've been up since 7:40 am, biked around 10 km into the wind (you don't think that's important until you feel like you're being pushed backwards by the hand of Zephyr), and eaten an assortment of different foods. I'm sorry, but if I can be awake, then he should be. I know he doesn't mean anything by it, and it's not a personal thing, but it still pisses me off because I make myself available to him, even though he doesn't seem to give a shit. So... yeah, I guess I just have to remind myself this isn't directed at me, it's just how it is.

My face is sun-burned... I have a black eye. Well, a bit of a black eye. It's not a very badass story, it's not much of a story at all, really. I couldn't get my eye makeup off because I didn't have any makeup remover, and so I attacked my face with a towel. Now the area under my right eye is swollen and raw. La Rochelle and Ile de Ré was beautiful. The water was cold, as the Atlantic always seems to be (being from NJ, and having felt it also in Ireland). The towers and buildings had stood since the 1400s and 1600s, raising up above the blue water like sand castles. It was picturesque. Quaint. The people were a lot friendlier, although the drunk assholes on the street were just like Paris. I think it's a French thing to be loud and obnoxious for no reason. My friends and I were all having a good time on the metro until about 40 guys came on to our car. They were all French, but of African descent, and were obviously out enjoying their Saturday night. Suddenly, one guy started to grab this girl by the waist, putting his hands all over her; she--luckily--was not gonna take it. She pushed him off and grabbed her friend and got off the train. Another guy then begins to yell at the gropey one, and we watch as a fight begins to ensue in between the area where my friends are all sitting. I'm watching this, trying to keep my face completely immune to the scene, while secretly horrified and terrified. At the next stop, half of them ran out (along with the gropey guy), and I imagined this was when the gropey guy was gonna be beat up, so hopefully he got what he deserved. I just hate the shear lack of respect for women here, it seems to be all Frenchmen. It seems like they feel entitled to some kind of sexual response from all women. I don't get it. Probably never will. It pisses me off though. It makes me wanna show them the error of their ways. It's one of the major reasons I dislike France.

One of the perks of going away was time away from work, so I read one of my new favorite books: Forced Entries by Jim Carroll. Technically, I was reading it for school, but it was amazing. I love it. I love Jim Carroll. To me, he is the mind of New York. As I read, I listened to the Velvet Underground, the band that truly is magic if you listen to it as you walk down the streets. You feel their high, and slowly your feet are lifted off the ground and wherever you're walking, is perfect, you're perfect, and you can feel the pulse of chance down every street and avenue. I want to get back to the City. I've realized why I don't like Paris. For me, New York is a place of possibilities. Every time I end up walking around, something occurs, and my friends and I are off on an adventure. As we trek from borough to borough, drunk, or high, or simply confused we meet the characters that now make up our late stories. The strange nomads and pansexual EMTs, the smack heads and squatters (usually, one in the same), and at the same time we meet our own opportunities for a breath of a new life. Suddenly, we're climbing over subway turnstiles and stumbling home, walking the dark streets of Brooklyn or Staten Island or occasionally Manhattan, home. When we arrive, we recount, and lay down, and fall into the lap of the City that will create us anew in the morning, ready for that day. I'm ready to be back home and feel the beat of life beneath my sneakers.

I'll check you later,

- 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! = )

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 = )

Devil's Playground

I'm still sick. My mind is still awash with my own shortcomings, but it's not as bad as it was. I wish I had gone to school today. I'm also pissed at myself because I'm going to miss pit orchestra practice tonight (I'm shooting my conductor an e-mail as we speak). Anyway, I feel like doing updates an all of the different drug schemes that are floating around my friends and world:

JUNK

This girl who is considered a creep and a snitch went to rehab. She's friends with a few of my friends, and is totally in love with my friend Helen (who happens to be straight, haha). I'll call her "Hannah." Anyway, she went away, and was considered a terrible influence because she got someone else I know into E. I never got the appeal of E, but whatever, to each their own. Anyway, she was sent off to rehab in December or November, but the reason was never really open for discussion or known. The other day me and my other friend are talking, and he tells me that she was in rehab for junk. Now, this wasn't a surprise. I've known that there was H in my town since like 8th grade, but I didn't know anyone who was into it besides my good friend's older sister and aunt/uncle who are junkies. This explains a lot because "Hannah's" facebook always had weird shit on it like, her girlfriend saying, "you know sharing needles is uncool blah blah blah talk to me." I thought that was funny at the time, because really, you wouldn't delete that comment.

PILLS

I don't know if I talked about Nina's forays into opiates, but I will now. That child is ridiculous occasionally. She's sitting infront of me in class scratching. Constantly scratching. Finally, I ask her what she's on. She says vicodin. I'm like, dude, that's the reason you're itchy. Apparently this surprised her, haha. Anyway, I didn't think she liked opiates at all. But, she's trying to buy some percs from this girl in our grade. Lauren told me, and so I texted Nina to see if I could get in on it, and she told me to talk to the girl. Here's the thing, Nina is friends with everyone, and everyone likes her, most people know me, but not personally, and not everyone likes me. I don't know why I couldn't just giver her fucking money, and she could get me shit. Anyway, I dropped it after I asked her how much a pill and what the mgs were, and she obviously had no idea.

Silly kid, pills are for adults.

COKE

Nothing on this front to speak of. Still too afraid of M. Haha, I'm such a coward. After I get some money for my b-day, I'll see about speaking to her.

SALVIA

Worried about Tanzen having that in her possession.

1.) She can be impulsive.

2.) She has never taken any kind of psychedelics.

3.) I don't want her parents finding it, and her getting in trouble.

I love Tanzen, but that child better not get into trouble, haha. She needs people to watch her back.

IN OTHER NEWS:

I worked on my vest and put on some nice stencils and shit. I'm going to post pictures of the process... because who wouldn't want to see that? No one. That's who. = ) Also, I'm in a way better mood than yesterday. I'm going to work on Latin and English and shit, and just get done with my homework so I don't have to worry about it. My dad's being annoying, but whatever, he's leaving this afternoon, so I'll have the house to myself.

I'm just chilling out at the moment, watching TV. My stomach is hurting like a bitch, and my throat is really sore. It's not much of a party, but I'm trying to stay content. I've been drawing a lot, which is always good. Playing some guitar. Just trying to keep myself sane and happy.

= )

I hope you guys are having a great week!

Love,

- Lucy

BTW, the stencils on my jacket are: GB CREW (on the back, under the collar), Circle Jerks (I did the lettering, which I'm proud of), The Germs (it's a dog with it's tongue sticking out), Stiff Little Fingers (not really though, before the stencil said fuck you under it, but my mom got upset, so I took that part off of it), The Stooges, The Ramones (I did some nice cross stitches on that patch, its really cool looking in my opinion), then there is my Zero Boys pin and my Bomb the Mall patch (just a slogan). I'm pretty happy, I'll probably add more studs and shit, but otherwise, it's pretty much complete. = )

Glue Man

I have been going on an emo-teenage bender these past two weeks. I feel like crap about everything. I hate myself, I hate my personality, I hate how I look, I can see nothing good in anything I do. And, being that this is the technology age, and this is my emo week, I wanna tell it to all of the people I look up to over the internet. Oh yeah, it's like a motherfucking emo-dial, ready to freak people out. Luckily, I'm fairly aware of how bad this will make me look, so I'm keeping it to my good friends and shit and not going on about it on myspace or facebook or anything else.

Not to mention I have strep throat, which is really only adding to my cheery demeanor.

Anyway, this weekend I went to Tanzen's 18th birthday party. We met up early to go to a book signing in the city, which we bailed on about 2 hours into and gave the books to her sister who works at the cafe attached to the bookstore to get the books signed. Walked over to the Strand and I bought another Irvine Welsh book, HARDCOVER, for 5 bucks. God, I love used book stores. Then we wandered down to the salvation army and I got a brand new flannel for 3 bucks. Jordan texted me and told me that ARCHY was down at ABC for the show. I had already told him I would go down and say hey and shit, so we walked down and I ruminated on the idea of a possible fight. Got down there and said hey to Jordan, who was steaming over her presence at the show and seemed to be going into a state of testosterone filled rage. I stood there and he paced a bit around saying hey to people, kind of acknowledging me kind of not, just kind of speaking and not really giving a fuck that I was there. I said hey to Emz too, who is a 14 year old I've befriended and given protection from the Crew. Good kid, smart, I just told her not to get into too much trouble. Anyway, after saying hey to people there, the management was yelling for people to go around the corner or go inside, we weren't paying, so we walked up to a Diner to grab some fries and sodas. My feet were killing me by now because of the fishnets I was wearing. We walked for another 45 minutes to Thompson street to go to Generation Records. A store in front of which I promptly put on pants to keep my legs warm. Yes, I almost striped on the street, but not really because I had on my dress still. Tanzen also took some hot photos of me in the process, haha. Went in there and I bought a new Zero Boys button, I just love them and they aren't appreciated enough and don't have merchandise in a lot of places. 

During this time I kept smoking, I have a bad habit of smoking a lot if I have a pack. I don't usually have smokes, but when I do I chain smoke them, haha. Finally, after lots of walking we went up town and did all the shit for the party. All of us kids hung out, I saw most people I knew, and if I didn't know them, I quickly did. Haha, I'm good at mingling. This guy was serving up tequilla from the bar, and he was being obnoxious as shit about it and making everyone, including myself, drink it straight. I don't like tequilla. I will only drink whiskey straight. So, I drank it, but I kind of just sipped it, I don't usually force alcohol down. I probably had 4 or 5 shots, and so I was feeling a bit inebriated by the time the party winded down. I was then forced to go to the Marriot, I good 6 or 7 blocks away and ride the glass elevator, which was cool, but a long fucking walk. When we arrived in Brooklyn I was tired, Molly was puking in the subway station, and Commie (yes, as in he is a Communist and people call him Commie) was getting a bit touchy-feely, so when we got back to Tanzen's house I headed upstairs and fixed the futon up and got into bed fast. There was a bit of discussion over whether or not the leaves that Irina gave her were Salvia, which they are. I told Tanzen not to do anything stupid. The next morning, Tanzen, me, and Marci went on the subway. On which I was informed that it was a surprise to Marci how intelligent I am. This made me laugh, and I told her that tequilla happens to lower my IQ. We hadn't talked at all at the party, and the most words I had said to her in the morning were probably me yelling at her and Tanzen to shut the fuck up or I was going to beat them up, because I was trying to sleep and I was a bit hungover (haha, I'm not a morning person).

What I guess could be the most important part of this was what we actually talked about the day before, and how it coincided with our train ride once it was just Tanzen and I. I started talking to Tanzen about the whole coke situation, blah blah, and how M makes me fucking nervous as shit, how I don't know how to contact her without her verbally abusing me over the phone (haha, sad but true, this girl scares the shit out of me). Tanzen said something that legit scared the shit out of me, and is making me feel a bit guilty and glad that I haven't given her any drugs or anything besides weed (and hydros, but only once, because lets face it, I'm selfish and I feel guilty when I fuck her up. Ironically, my own selfish intentions, are helping her). She said this to me, "Weed is known as a 'gateway drug,' and I've been standing in the door way for far too long." My immediate reaction mentally was, "WOAH! I didn't realize that she really felt like this. Is this my fault? Have my own stupid stories and drug problems and shit causing my friend to think that harder drugs are the answer to her problems? Fuck..." It actually soured me to the thought of drugs for the entire day. I just thought about how much I love Tanzen, she's my best friend, and how I don't want to be the reason for her ever having a drug problem. At the same time, I crave a partner in crime, but it's not bad enough for me to want to risk her in the process. I mean, I'm a dumbass, I make bad choices constantly. I keep fucking up sobriety, as I did today, as I did two weeks ago. I keep ending up depressed and feeling like shit and not letting myself long enough time to normalize, before I just fuck my brain up again. I don't want this for her, and I don't want her to be in any way drug-dependent. I have been known to be easily able to influence people into doing dumb shit, I've always been a good talker, and I can talk up my own shit. Is my mouth gonna fuck up my friends. I don't know.

I worry about this shit. I worry about her. I worry that I got high yesterday (it was today, but I guess now it's Tuesday morning) and it barely changed my feeling towards the world. I am actually pretty sick, which sucks. I am going to be 18 in 5 days. Holy fuck. For 5 more days I am still just a minor threat.

I'm trying to stay positive and not do anything dumb.

Love you guys and hope you guys are having better days than me!

- Lucy

Cocaine

We sat in Lauren's living room. Nina was kneeling on the floor, rolling a joint on the coffee table as we talked. Apparently, earlier in the day she had gone over and seen Maya. Maya had been sitting in her house, cigarette hanging from her lips, and Monster can filled with vodka in hand, when Nina had entered. Her and Nina shot the shit for a while, Maya had been in rehab going to school and shit for a while, but only had to go in after 12:30. She was still going to be graduating with us, which pissed us all off because we were doing way more work. Maya had also been hospitalized recently for depression, but that's all that was said about it. She had been caught last year for possession of large amounts of pot, which had ended up causing her mother 17,000$ in legal fees. Maya has to pay back her mother, but "nowhere is hiring." Mhm. Sure. So, she has to move some wares to earn a few bucks. However, her wares are finally interesting. She has vicodin and coke. Well, ironically, I don't have much of a desire to pay for vicodin, but for coke... well, sign me up! Anyway, I gotta contact her, which is gonna be easier said than done. Although we were friends, you can't call her because of police shit, and if I ask my friends to talk to her, well, I'll get shit for wanting to buy coke. Nina apparently doesn't like vicodin because it makes her itch (I think the girl is obviously fucked up if she doesn't like opiates, and your biggest complaint is itching, frankly, itching is not one of my concerns, and I don't think it should really be that bad for how much she was taking... but, that's neither here nor there), so I can't use that as a ploy. I'm gonna see if I can send her a message and see how she is. I figure that a customer is a costumer, and she will probably still be cool with me buying from her. She has always made me uncomfortable, so I don't really wanna do it, but I do want coke, so well, it'll be worth it. Tanzen has signed on to try some if I get it. She was, 'worried about the whole snorting thing.' I told her not to worry, haha, that it isn't a big deal. I can't help but be excited thinking about the prospect. I gotta send her a message and shit still... hopefully I'll get the balls to do it, since she makes me SO UNCOMFORTABLE. You really don't understand, I am legit afraid to contact the girl.

After I went off into a dream world surrounding coke, Nina, Lauren, and I smoked the joint. I was somewhat high, and decided to go off to school after about 45 minutes. I got in when everyone was in lunch, and then went through all my classes. The classes are shorter this week due to testing, so it didn't take too long. I'm pissed off at Zack for being so flippant about everything. I don't know why I only choose guys who are like that, but whatever, I'm trying to get over it.

Well, I'm trying to focus on the positive in light of the negative.

Check ya later!

- 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 = )

Strange

I had a drug dream that I have to share with everyone, because it was THAT cracked out. Okay, so I'll start from the beginning. My friend Nina and I are walking from our first block class on the third floor, down to our homeroom on the second floor like every day. However, we take a different stairwell, anyway, we stop on the landing in between the two floors and these three Hispanic kids I recognize are standing there. Anyway, they have like a bowl of what looks to be powdered sugar (I mean, I'm always getting high off of baking goods... anyway). So, the main guy asks if he we want some "name that made no sense when I heard it." It was my minds attempt at a nick-name for a drug gone wrong, to the point where it was legit just sounds. Nina's eyes are kind of bugged out and dilated and a bit crossed. She's very gungho about it. Instead of having viles or tinfoil or baggies... No, it's this thing that looks like a tiny-fish bowl (about the size of a marble) with an opening at the top. They are using spoons the size of like barbie spoons to put the powder in there. BTW, it's supposed to be speed (haha, my dreams... REALLY REALISTIC... not). Okay, so suddenly I wanna say he's given it to Nina, or maybe it's while he's filling the "vile" and he says, "do you want a taste?" Nina  says no, and I look at her and say, "Yes?" So, I snort a little (mind you, I'm standing in a fucking stairwell in my school, which is apparently empty because everyone else is in homeroom). At first, I'm like, wow, nothing. AND THEN IT HITS ME. Suddenly, I feel like I've been hit in the face by a fucking roller coaster and my mind is flying. Nina and I then walk downstairs (some how she is also high). Anyway, we walk down to our homeroom and try to turn off all of the lights in the classroom because it is bothering our eyes. There's this machine in the front with all of these keys and knobs and shit and lights, which I am just so unable to turn off it's not funny. Anyway, I keep trying, to no avail. Finally, I wake up. It's 4:30 in the afternoon and I've been asleep for an hour and I'm fucking sweating because of how high the heat is in my house and the fact that I'm under a blanket. I crawl out and feel so gross and go do homework.

This is how my beginning to going straight is. Great. Fucking, great. Obviously, that's just all I need. Anyway, I'm doing good. Besides when I was about ready to fucking just shove anything into my body to get high on wednesday, lots of shit went down and it was terrible, but I refrained. = ) I don't know, today my friend was being very triumphant when she said she hadn't smoked weed in 3 days? or maybe it was since Sunday? (Obviously, I was paying a lot of attention...) Anyway, I kind of felt bad after just brushing it off like it was nothing. I remember last year when I was so fucking proud to have made it like 2 and a half weeks, and I told my friends and they were just like, "whatever" and it kind of ruined it for me. I'm feeling good about it. I'll just drink because I don't have enough opportunities to drink. I do occasionally feel like I do drink just to get fucked up. Bad Lucy. Bad... I don't know, after Tanzen saying the greatest thing ever: "I really like hangovers because they bring you down to reality, and I like reality." How could I stop drinking? Haha, that's just like the greatest phrase of someone whose had a bit much to drink.

Tomorrows plan: finish off the stoli (I will not poor out fucking as much cranberry juice as last time...) and then go to the show. Enjoy Reagan Youth, then go to Tanzen's. Cut my hair at some point, watch SNL, hopefully eat some Life cereal, play guitar, etc. It'll be great. = )

I FINISHED APPLYING FOR COLLEGE! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! = ) Basically, the greatest fear of my life is off of my shoulders. Now it's just up to admissions people, and they can do what they want. Hopefully, I get into to like 8 out of 12 (I know, I applied to way too many schools). Anyway, around April I'll tell y'all the good news. = )

I don't know, I'm tired. 

But I have a question:

Okay, so, with certain guys, I would kiss them and I would literally get weak in the knees. That doesn't happen with Zack. There's no fire there (besides us being two teenagers who like each other). In some ways, I feel like he's just more of a safe choice, rather than like the perfect guy for me. I wish there were more sparks, but it's cool. He's the kind of guy who we're kind of like a great couple, and we'll just work it out. (We put down the deposits on our room after prom, we're sharing a suite with my two good friends and their dates. It's an open room though, with a pull out couch, so it's like two beds and a pull out couch... ugh. AWKWARD. haha).

Should I worry if there are no sparks? That's my question. = )

Well, I'm off to sleep. Good night guys, love you all.

= )

Lucy

Dum Dum Boys

What I've realized is that I want to talk about something. That is my friends.

I've realized as I've watched other teenagers either slip into addiction or down the path to addiction that it is much easier to become addicted than to watch someone become addicted. Seeing my friends and hearing them talk I know what is occurring. Lauren is slowly becoming a stoner who cannot get a G to last her a week, if she has a 1.5 Gs she gets nervous. I sit here, the kid who would much rather you giver her a new needle than a new pair of shoes (though I really like the shoes my mom gave me, not gonna lie, they're fresh and they make her happy). Maya and her friends, including Laura, are/were running down the path towards serious addiction. The kind that can, and has, killed stronger people. I watch this and it sickens me. I do shit and I keep it hidden. It's my little secret that I reveal to the few who can keep it, who see me as a teenager with a problem, rather than a someone with a problem that is a teenager. My secrecy means that people don't worry about me, besides the ones who know, and that makes me feel better about it in some ways. I don't want to worry my friends.

I remember last year seeing Maya in the atrium. Me, with my track marks hidden under long sleeves, and her with her greasey head. I was walking in one direction and her the other. I saw her unkempt appearance as an outward sign of her inner demons. Popping tylenol 3s, (they call them "tripCs," even the slang makes me laugh), which I am pretty sure will only escalate. What makes me laugh the most was how she bragged about it. I was at this New Years party last year, lying on the floor, eyes closed, trying to make sure I did not nod out on their floor. She's trying to boast about her drugs, and I begin to laugh. I'm attempting to contain my giggling, because everyone is going to be like, "why the fuck is Lucy laughing at Maya and her drugs? they're so hardcore..." She was saying something about how she didn't eat because they suppressed her appetite. My only thought was, "No... just shut up. You sound like an idiot. Are you trying to make yourself sound like an addict? I'm pretty sure I can win that competition..."

Even if my feelings towards Maya are kind of, well, hostile, I still felt bad. I've known Maya since we were in 6th grade together. Here she is now, a fucking 12th grader, and we're discussing if she's still in rehab. (No one knew if she was still in it, we were discussing if she was getting help and shit... just the average lunchtime conversation, right?)

I don't like watching my friends in pain. I wish I could heal it. I wish I could make them see themselves like I see them, as strong young women, who have really grown up. We all have, and it's weird to see it now how different we all are. I can be an addict, I can think it in my head, I have trouble verbalizing it, but I can say it if I have to -- it doesn't bother me as much as seeing my friends really fucked up. Them looking really wasted can kill my buzz because then I just feel bad. I feel guilty, like I'm a part of their decline. I don't want to be that.

I am protective of my friends because they are my family. I would do anything for most of them. I would beat the shit out of anyone who fucked with them, I would back them up if a teacher hassled them, I would do whatever it takes -- my friends are my life. I don't want them to be in pain.

My head feels heavy and pressurized, I need to lay down because I have a bad headache. I guess it's from getting high, I used to get bad headaches a lot. I would use for a week daily and then stop on the weekends and I would get terrible headaches. Then sometimes they would occur while I was getting high.

I don't know, I need to lay down and let my head rest.

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. = )

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

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.

Lyrica + Peeps = how to fuck yourself up

Whoever thought that Lyrica is a fun drug, is seriously on drugs (haha, obviously). It took about 4 hours to kick in, but when it kicked in, it kicked in. The room was rotating, and I had to stumble down the hallway to the bathroom and then to the kitchen, which wasn't very pleasant. I decided that, if I'm going to feel this fucked up, I might as well have a soundtrack to it. I listened to the Germs for a bit, which was kinda nice (I'm not such a giant fan of the Germs, but I like some of their stuff). When I finally turned out the light and went to bed, I was hit with really bad night-blindness (as if there's a really nice version). So, now everything is dark, and I'm really dizzy, and when I turn over the room feels like it's spinning around me: it was a bit unpleasant. I attempted to calm myself down and remind myself that soon I would be asleep and it would be fine. I passed out and woke up at 10:26 with my phone vibrating violently. Alexis had texted me to tell me that she was sorry that she had just seen my text about the Rocky Horror Picture Show (none of my friend's were allowed to go, so I figured that we would all just see it next month). I was still really fucked up, so I decided to go back to sleep. When I finally woke up it was 12:56, I didn't feel like moving. The room was still twisting beneath me. After a few minutes of debating, I quietly got out of bed and looked at myself in the mirror. My eyes were like giant black holes, so I knew that I couldn't go and see my rents (they love to threaten me with drug tests every chance they get, so I try to avoid them when I'm obviously fucked up). I laid back down and waited for a half an hour, when I finally got up and stumbled back to the mirror. Although I still felt like shit, my eyes were now back to normal (I don't know what miracle occurred there). I've felt pretty fucked up all day, but I guess that's what I get for being a dumbass. I just finished cleaning my bathroom and I'm washing my sheets, but I think I'm going to take a nap. Haha, I'm still so tired, it's not even funny. The way it feels at the moment reminds me of getting really high, sitting on my bed, and the only way that I could keep myself from puking my guts out was to lean my head against the wall and keep still.

I feel like puking is so normal to me now, that it really doesn't bother me. Usually it's my fault for being dumb. The last 3 times I've taken Ambien I've puked my guts out (one of those times I puked twice, and two of those times involved Peeps, maybe there's a connection there). I remember the first time I had withdrawals, I took Ambien the third night, to finally get to sleep. The next morning I woke up around 6 a.m. and decided that I should just take some oxycodone and stop this bullshit. For the first two hours after taking it, I was totally cool, I had taken it with cranberry juice (which is very acidic). After about 2 and a half hours I'm puking up cranberry juice into a garbage bag. It was so painful, because it was my stomach acids plus the cranberry juice. Besides that time, all the times I've puked, although they have been annoying, have never really bothered me. Mostly because I'm high, so nothing really bothers me. Puking peeps is a weird experience because they are still marshmallowy and soft. I remember, still being very high after puking into a ziploc bag (only thing I could find), and kinda playing with my marshmallow vomit (as I said, I was very high) by squeezing the bag, it was pretty entertaining.

Okay, so enough of this gross puking conversation, I'll just leave you be, hopefully I can come back and say more interesting things when I'm not about to fall off my own bed. = )

For your own viewing pleasure I feel like posting my favorite scene from SLC Punk, because I love that movie... haha, I don't care what people say about it, it is an awesome movie. = )

NYC Tonight

The silence is almost deafening. I've always enjoyed being alone at night, the best out of the day. Knowing that I will be left alone for hours and hours is so comforting. I hear crickets outside, as always quietly singing. It reminds me of being a little kid down at the shore, staying in our good friend's house. Late at night, lying in bed, I could always hear the waves, feel the breeze through the open windows, and the laughter emanating from the living room. If there was a time I would like to return to, it would be then. I remember it so clearly, it seems like only a few days have passed.

I have a bandana tied around my head, for some reason that I can't quite figure out. At shows, I always see random people with bandanas tied around their heads, their short mohawks flopping over the front. Boys with bandanas tied around the lower half of their faces, bandits storming into the mosh pit. My mohawk is laying over the side, it's 7" long and gets in my eyes when I put it in front. It's tight on my head. The world is so peaceful right now, I wish I could see it this way forever. My hair smells like the salon, as I pull it into a devil lock (haha, I look so ridiculous).

Tanzen and I have been talking, mostly plotting. She told me that her and Sean, this stoner kid, went with his friend Jack to Prospect Park recently and streaked in the rain at 2 a.m. (this was after they drank waaay too much, haha, Tanzen never knows when to stop). We're discussing prospects for the future, mostly centering around my favorite thing... (you get one guess). Although I've never scored in the city, I'm not too worried about it. My thought is: if you know where most people get it, you can probably get it too. The thing I don't like are the dogs in Penn Station. My friends say that they are probably just bomb sniffing dogs (which is obviously not a problem for me, haha) and I've taken weed through the station before with no problems, I just would hate anything bad to happen there. Tanzen also makes me nervous, she's really naive and excitable, which really isn't a good combination. I don't know, I figure that I might as well, see what I can do, it probably can't hurt to try and find it (haha, or it could turn out badly, but I'm gonna be optimistic and say that I would have to do something pretty fucking dumb to get in a lot of trouble... that being said, some people would consider it completely fucking dumb already). My first thought is: Tompkins! Where junkies come to live (on a bench), and die (ironically, on the same bench). Usually I hang out in Washington Square, which is just basically weed central (my friend Ned gets asked constantly if he wants to buy, the poor straightedge boy is always very confused by the names they say to him). Tompkins is on the LES (for everyone not in the know: Lower East Side). Basically if you walk down St. Marks you run smack into it. It's right over the edge where the West and East side divide. I always enjoy a good romp around the city, the only thing that makes it better: opiates, or the Velvet Underground. I swear on my life that if I walk around listening to the Velvet Underground in the city I get a natural high, it's incredible. I just feel as if I could conquer the world (maybe it's auditory opiates... I can only wish). I'm thinking that we should go try and find the stuff after the show, it gets out at 8 and Ned has to go back to Manhattan anyway, so it will work out. Ned will come with us, and Tanzen can occupy him if he gets in the way. Also, Tanzen really wants to get mushrooms, so she needs to talk to Sean about hooking up with the guy who has them. I don't really want any, mostly because I have a feeling they will be kinda pricey (as is every psychedelic, it seems, but maybe people are just ripping me off).

My head is feeling really strange. I took 150 mg of Lyrica that I found lying around the house (you know, how that is, open a drawer, find a few pills, look them up online, isn't that what everyone does? take them and wait for them to take effect ; ). It's really bizarre, I jsut have a giant headache in the front of my head and I feel really tired. It kinda reminds me of Ambien (when I'm not puking it up, which seems to happen everytime I take it, it's made me vomit marshmallows three times, which, strangely, feels about the same as eating them), everything is moving a little bit. Weird... everyone who talks about taking it uses like 600mg, which is way more than I feel like taking. I was having some severe cravings, which I wasn't really dealing with. I think that when your mind says "TAKE DRUGS NOW!" and then you say "maybe later," it just expects you to take some kind of drugs in the next few hours. I waited and waited and waited for it to go away, but it just wouldn't... so I took some drugs. This shit is really similar to Ambien, which makes me a bit wary.

I should be looking up the new pair of Vans I want. I have this pair that I got for Christmas (my mother always buys me a new pair of Vans for Christmas, it is now tradition), which I have worn almost every day. Each has holes in the big toe area, so she says I look homeless, so I have to get some new shoes. There were Circle Jerks Vans that I wanted, but they're not online anymore. How sick would that be? The cute little skanking boy on the top of your feet? Now those would be some sick shoes. They have Germs ones, but I don't like the Germs as much as the Circle Jerks. They also have Johnny Ramone... but I don't know if I really would wear shoes with him on it.  At the moment, I've been wearing my Docs every chance that I get, I love them sooooo much! Haha, for some reason, having boots makes me feel like a super hero. 

I would now like to tell the shop.vans.com to go and fuck itself. It's so hard to use. I just want to look at their "classic slip ons" and it's being all dumb. And I'm having a whole lot of trouble moving around now. Hmmm... Lyrica is really fucking with me, but it's kinda entertaining.

Well, I guess I'll report more later... or in the morning... whenever I wake up. = )

(BTW, if you don't know it, you should look up the song = NYC Tonight by GG Allin, because it is quite good, I've only heard other people cover it, but I love the song = )

Ludlow St. and Beat My Guest

The men on the screen are running in slow motion. Slowly their faces contort in ecstasy or defeat, human emotions have slowed to a crawl. It's 11:54 p.m. on sunday night, August 17th. I looked at one of my old journals last month and I found the entry documenting my first experience with opiates. Haha, which basically boiled down to me puking and my father standing in the doorway asking if I was alright. Slowly I watched as my posts degenerated into me speaking about not giving a shit anymore, it's weird; the human emotions again are slowed to a crawl. I'm thinking that I'll send my self off to an opiate fuzz tomorrow possibly. The city is always better high. Those classic scenes become more classic, more epic. You feel yourself and the city become one. The village is like my home away from home, I watch the faces change skipping from person to person. The tourists are ugly and fat, walking slowly, staring at maps, but the true New Yorkers hold a beauty for me. It's like seeing long lost family, the resemblance is suddenly apparent, one which you had never been aware of before. I'm excited for the show, some good old loud and fast punk. My friend Lauren shall be a bit disturbed, I like taking her to punk shows, mostly because she listens to so much folky-indie-noise stuff. Some of it I don't really mind, but some of it I hate. We're going to see Dr. Dog next Tuesday after I get home from college visits, so that should be interesting. I like Dr. Dog, but it will mean probably a lot of hipsters, which is never a good thing. I hate hipsters. They pollute all that the city stands for, they are true trash. I want to grab them by the face and run their teeth along the curb. Hipsters come to shows to be cool, to pretend. Sure, maybe all of us are pretending to some extent in life, but their lives are facades erected and buffed into little "pseudo-intellectual" pieces of shit. I'm psyched for the show though, I have almost no money. My parents gave me $25, which will cover my train ticket and metrocard, and half the ticket. It's $10, which isn't bad but isn't great. I really can't wait for that Reagan Youth show in september, that will be fucking fun. That's only $8 and starts at 4 and is on a saturday, which means that it is perfect.

I'm reading Ecstasy by Irvine Welsh, which is pretty good. I really like Irvine Welsh, definitely one of my favorite authors. I'm on the third short story on the collection. Obviously, they all have someone taking ecstasy in them, something which I never have any desire to do. Ecstasy has never had any appeal for me, even when offered it by friends I've always figured it was a waste of money. I prefer when he writes about heroin, but what can I say, Trainspotting is one of my favorite books ever. However, if you want to read a good book about heroin, Tales from the Geronimo by Scott Frank is my personal favorite of all time. It's hard to come by, I bought it in a used book store a few years ago, but if you can find it definitely read it. It's to the point where whenever I'm high and in need of some reading I open it up. You could probably recite a passage and I could tell you exactly where he was and what he was doing it. It's an auto-biography which is a nice quality. I wrote a book report it for one of my English classes, haha, my cover art was a needle full of blood spraying it out into a nice pool. It's ironic when people would ask me why I wrote about this kind of shit, and I would just let it kind of roll around in my mind and give some dumb answer. I think it's funny, people questioning me about it and getting to lie.

Anyway, I'm feeling pretty good about life. I seriously shouldn't complain, things are going okay, as long as I focus and don't fuck up anything too badly I should be okay for a few more months. I have to keep a low profile around my parents, I'm getting careless, which will only end up badly.

So, I'm posting two videos, the first one is of a Blackout Shoppers performance. The first song they perform is my favorite of theirs, I love it. The next video is the song "Beat My Guest" by Adam and the Ants, which is just so catchy. I was wandering around the house signing There's so much happiness behind these tears, yeah BEAT ME, BEAT ME OHD OHD OH-ohoh.... Watch both and be entertained for a few more minutes.