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...

Bored of Television

So much has changed in the past month... I've gone back to school... I've been having horrible panic attacks, so I've been put on medication which I take nightly so that I don't get them. It kind of works, but I haven't been getting much sleep. At the moment I'm sick with some weird bug, I feel kind of like someone has been beating me over the head with a stick and in my stomach.

My main concern for tonight: To steal or not to steal my roommate's hydrocodone cough syrup. She doesn't need it, she's no longer sick. Figured I could prob cut it with water... at first I thought about doing it with other cherry flavored cough syrup, but I don't know, don't want to kill her or anyone else if she ends up taking it for some other reason in the future. It's just chilling there on her desk taunting me... it's very tempting, and I might take some... just to see how it goes... I don't know, boredom does not bring out my best qualities.

And umm... yeah... fuck it... I'll just take some...

I might as well, right? That won't hurt anyone...

Well, perhaps I"ll sign on later if it's awesome!

- Luce

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

Santa was a Skinhead

My stomach is full of chocolate, milk, and percocet. I feel like a science experiment got wrong. I got sick at dinner tonight. We were at a fancy steak house, with nosy waiters and polished silver. My head first began to hurt and immediately the nausea kicked in, I could barely form sentences because there was too much noise and too many sights and thinking was too hard between the pain and the overwhelming scene. My mom took me outside and as I sat on the bench, in my cream sweater and dress shoes, wondering what was happening to my body, I began to shiver, but feel better. All I need is cold air and a quiet spot and I'm better. I have no idea what's happening to my body and it's really starting to freak me out.

Right now I'm trying to calm my friend down who thinks her boyfriend might kill himself. I feel bad. I feel powerless in plucking the advice out of the air. Usually, I know exactly what to do or say, I know how to read people. I know how to calm down fights and fix relationships and deal with bosses. But this. This is where I fail. Because no one can know exactly how a, possibly, suicidal person is going to react. In my experience, none of my friends who were suicidal have killed themselves and all we usually ever did was tell them how much we cared about them and that we were there for them. Although we couldn't help them completely, as long as we could get them to calm down enough to talk to us and get down to a more level mental state I felt better about it for the time being.

I feel so bad. I also told M, this new guy I'm seeing, not to smoke opium again. I am a hypocrite. I guess, it's to be expected. I'm doing finals this week and then off for Christmas.

I had things to say, but they're lost in my gut of sugar and oxy. Fuck.

"Santa was a Skinhead" covered by Showcase Showdown

Blank Generation

So high. I haven't been this high in a long time. It feels heavier than usual. My head feels full of fishing weights, rolling around and pulling me down. I'm doing sudoku and watching trashy tv. My favorite things to do while high. I guess it's appropriate for my generation. Multi-tasking with reality TV and a game that does not involve any true knowledge.

Drunk When I Met You

My ass is covered in bruises. And when I say bruises, they are a dark, dark purple. There is one on the direct center of my right ass cheek, three large ones running down the back of my right thigh, and a smaller green one on my left hip. This is why I don't like hopping fences. My friends, correctly, decided that if we sat in the gated off part of Tompkins Square Park (meaning we'd have to hop a fence), we could easily escape the cops because we can hop fences faster than them. Although this makes a lot of sense--and luckily we didn't have to test our theory--I am shitty at climbing chain link fences especially in my heavy doc martens. So the first time our friend Izzy gave me a boost over, and then going back my friend Steven gave me a boost back over the fence. However, that time I got stuck on top of the fence with my legs and hands all facing back away from where I wanted to go. I had just finished a 40 and a half, and was feeling it. The fence began to shake, and I fell backwards over it. But before hitting the ground, I held on to the fence with my legs directly up in the air. Although it didn't seem like I feel that hard, falling from the top of the fence on to the rest of the fence fucked up my thigh. I had a giant welt afterwards. I sat on an ice pack after that.

Beyond that, some guy who was trying to fuck me by leading me on, I told to fuck off. So that kind of sucked. I hate when people think they're going to use me. It makes me very angry, understandably.

I have 6 poetry readings coming up between now and December 12th... and my plays performance on December 2nd. It's cool having lots of shows coming up, it's exciting and fun, but a little bit stressful. I need to work on some new material.

Anyway, I'm awake to early for class today, so I'm gonna go work on some homework and shower.

Check ya later,

- Luce...

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