Drugs make you weird -Day 2

I believe that to a certain extent kids get weird because their parents made them weird. Parents have more to do with making their children weird than T.V. or rock ’n roll records, the only things that makes them weirder than parents are religion and drugs.
Frank Zappa

Here is wisdom - Let him that hath understanding count the number of the beast: For it is the number of a man: And his number is six hundred three score and six
Revelation 13;18

police in New York City
chased a boy right through the park
case of mistaken identity
they put a bullet through his heart
heart breakers with your forty four
I wanna tear your world apart
heartbreaker, heartbreaker
I wanna tear your world apart

girl on a street corner
sticking needles in her arm
died in the dirt of an alleyway
mother said she never had a chance,
heartbreaker, heartbreaker
you stole the love right out of my heart
heart breaker, heart breaker
I wanna tear your world apart
Glimmer Twins

Day 2

I’m an incorrigible drug fiend and I like the damn stuff that’s the biggest obstacle to overcome when you wanna quit, crashing headlong into my past is the common theme. Those of us who partake in gear are as a rule a much more engaging type than your usual psychotic crack head – an altogether wicked drug with virtually no redeeming qualities, especially when you factor in the come down. As one gets older the come down takes on greater and greater significance. Providing you do not run out there are surprisingly few with gear, no headaches that feel like world war three just kicked off behind your eyes as with alcohol. You don’t find yourself aimlessly wandering down strange streets at 5.30am in a state of deep dark depression wondering what the hells going on, as you do after a 3 day coke bender. You don’t have worms crawling under your skin and out of your eye sockets as you do after 4 days on a crystal binge. These are short term doses of pain delivered after every session. After a good night getting stoned you wake up the next morning right as rain. Well as a rule. The the crux of the matter is smack is the best drug and so ultimately it’s the hardest to quit. Its Gods quid pro quo.

It’s tried and tested lets face it people like opium, in China for 3,000 years every government since the Tang dynasty has been trying to shut down the opium dens, they haven’t made a dent in it, nations come and go the opium markets remain as stable as rice or gold, the price is relatively the same as it was in 9ooB.C. Since the Afghans were liberated from the Taliban they have once again assumed the mantel of worldwide No.1 producer. While the U.S. and Allies concentrate on the war on terror the war on drugs has been temporarily shelved, and there’s no real comparison between some fundamentalist Islamic nutter shouting ‘God is great’ and beheading some poor hapless Nepalese truck driver live on T.V. versus a dozy sod chasing the Dragon all weekend. People like floating happily off in a dream world, it’s a hard habit to argue with, you need a large disposable income and plenty of time, it’s not conducive to a productive existence, though one look down the annals of music, art and literature will throw out many a supremely gifted dope fiend. A smack habit is always going to pose certain legal problems and a stunting of the career curve, but hey we’re not violent and dangerous, we may be guilty of many things but a desire to rule the world is not one of them. A dope fiend didn’t bring down the Twin Towers or bomb Pearl Harbour. The Bush’s and Blair’s of this world are far more insidious. Power mongers rise early, opium eaters sleep late.

In the last two weeks I’ve spent a fucking fortune playing the same tired old game – ‘ok, I’ll buy a big lump and then quit, take methadone and only use when I’m really desperate, knowing its there will make things easier, I’ll stick to the methadone and be able to get on with my life, trying to find a job, taking care of business. If I don’t have anything in the house my mind will fuck with me and I won’t be able to get anything done. In a couple of weeks I will be able to train myself to just do the juice everyday and then when I’m stable I’ll start to reduce’. – Of course this has been a complete fucking debacle, I’ve sat on the bed watching movies on-line all day getting stoned. So now I’m gonna go with the tried and trusted method of abstention - being penniless, I think it’s the only way to get the ball rolling and if I have a few days of inertia so be it. I’m such an impatient prat, I don’t know if this is just me or a trait of all junkies, even in quitting I want immediate results. I thought I had learned patience in Japan but the old character flaws rear their ugly heads once again.

Strangely though I have energy this afternoon and have been at the computer most of the day. I did the last of the gear this morning and spent my last fiver on food, I’m not due to get more money for two weeks. I do have some but my father has control of the bank account, it’s only a phone call away but it’s money to go to Thailand next year, that’s the carrot if I can quit. I don’t want to stay in England, after my probation is finished I want to try and find Xiao Yu, I know she’s gone now nearly four years later, but I want to try even if its just to make sure she’s ok. If I tap into that money one more time it will all be gone in three months.

This is not rock bottom you might think it’s almost a cosy existence but I’ve been there too, I lived on the kitchen floor of a Catholic house for the homeless in the East Village having lost my wife, job, apartment everything. Somehow this is worse because while I haven’t got to that point again yet I know instinctively that there is no way back this time if I fail. Knowing this and thinking about it paralyses me with fear and worry, my house is a complete mess, the bills are mounting, I haven’t opened my mail in a month. When things start to spiral out of control like this, minor problems escalate when a simple phone call could improve them immeasurably. My mind plays tricks on me, I have phantom aches and pains that I know I need gear to alleviate. The depression leads to lethargy, feelings of shame and more worry, which leads to doing more dope to blot it out, it’s a cycle of doom like a vine tightening all around you, strangling the will out of you. It’s the big problem with clinics and AA, your fine while in a controlled environment but sooner or later you have to exist back in the real world.

Today I have something new. I don’t know what it is yet, my ‘will’ has worked against me for so many years so it’s not that. There won’t be any success or failure today but I want to stop and I’m doing something about it. Putting it in black and white and out there in the ether makes it real. Tonight I’m going to clean my house and open my mail. A start