July 2005


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The perfect sound swirls thru the wooden shutters (peeling bright blue paint) slipping into the sun drenched air.  Tropical flora burst from the volcanic rich soil, flowers and flower buds sway lazily in the evening.  The music glides thru the green foliage, summersaulting down the leafs and cartwheeling down the vines, exciting molecules underfoot.  The crashing surf pounds the earth like a drum.  Creating a mesmerizing rhythm and spraying water vapor into the air.  The mist dances on the breeze, explodes and spirals into rich rainbowed snowflake bursts as it collides into sunbeams cutting thru the heavy evening air.  Tasting the salt off her skin.

Existing (for the moment) on the thin line that divides light from shadow, conscious from unconscious.  The boy lays in bed strolling thru the vivid dreamscapes he projects onto his eyelids (digital surround), helping to temporarily relieve his confusion.  Rising from bed Jimmy wears a silly grin and his eyes tranquil, transparent pools of indescion twinkle with emotion.

Out back on the patio he watches the sun set and enjoys natures artwork.  The sky fills with broad sweeps of pink and purple dusting down to darkness.  Twilight falls and the stars peak out thru the black mass of uncertainty.  Begging for a cosmic game of connect-the-dots.

Breaking the bud of MaryJane open the air bursts with a minty, evergreen aroma.  Green flakes stick to his fingers like bubblegum on a school playground in the middays sun (Its pink blubber waiting to be assaulted by a rubber sole).  Sitting back and kicking his feet up a flick of the lighter illuminates him in a yellow glow as the joint is sparked.

Thick heavy clouds, scatter his thoughts like a stobelight flashing over a broken /shattered/ mirror.

Worn city streets (in a never ending circle of construction)
light grey and yellow
burnt particles organic
Pop Rock Candy Experiment

Spinning thru the atmosphere Jimmy crash lands into the the lifestyle of junk.  The world of desperation, dark souls, and insanity.

Clear opiate ampules
Crumpled tinfoil
Coat hanger super glued plungers
kemikal kaleidoscope of illusions

A craving that reachs upon and above anything, rattling his bones and dying for a fix.  Smack a hit of pure.  Clueless people would call him weak, but it was a life enjoyed.  Riding the elevators to both extremes.  Spinning into the stratosphere and playing tag with true space cadets, Spiraling into the depths of hell running from the skeletons and dodging their boney punches.  Dazed and confused he hopped off the bus more times than he could count but yet was drawn back to the allure of heroin with an insanity that he never could understand, like a moth to a flame, like…

The fish was hooked, line and sinker.  Fortunately God decided on ‘catch and release’ approach for this kids life.

Roll-the-dice

Jolted up from a organic induced nap, the joint is burning Jimmy’s fingers.  Flipping it to the side. He decides to listen to some music and hits the ‘play’ button…

This must be heaven, tonight I cross the line.
You must be the angel, I though I might never find.
Was it you I heard singing, oh while I was chasin' dreams.
Driven by the wind, like the dust that blows around,
And the rain fallin' down, but I never know.
Got to be heaven, cause here's where the rainbow ends.
If this ain't the real thing, then it's close enough to pretend.
When that wind blows, when the night's about to fall.
You can hear the silence call, it's a certain sort of sound,
Like the rain fallin' down. - GD

^ Change the font of the lyrics when I get time my head is killing and I need a beer

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Boring day today, as usual.  My married, younger sister is in the process of buying a new house from one of my best friends [non-using, always there for you type] and its actually starting to aggravate me in a juvenile type of fashion.  It just makes me look back on my life and all the mistakes I have made and what I have become, also it makes me a tad jealous which I dont deal to well with.  So I retaliate by dry gulping some Xanax to calm my thoughts.  Whatever…  Its kinda a stressful week as I have some court shit happening later this week and I hope all goes well, I have learned long ago not to worry about things that are out of my direct control but it still makes for an abrasive thought in my empty head.

I have been trying to cut down on my drinking as it almost always leads me into doing ‘other things’ [read: drugs] but I went out and pounded back a few last night, and I will probably do the same thing Wends. to help relieve some of these edgey feelings I am consumed with.

Everything is ok on the medication front.  Still on bupe and anti-anxiety agents.  Still

I read a pretty damn good book today, that I found interesting: ‘Courtroom 302 – A Year Behind The Scenes In A American Criminal Courthouse’ – Steve Bogira

The book is the story of one year in one courtroom in Chicago’s Cook County Criminal Courthouse, the busiest felony courthouse in the country.  Its a refreshing book and hard to put down especially when I have been thru the same jails and courtroom described in the book.  It sheads light onto the overburdened cases that clog up the system [drug cases], the why’s, how’s, when’s.  Also a touches base on the history and development of Chicago court systems. 

Music: Shpongle – My head feels like a Frisbee/Around the world in a Tea daze

Drink: Minute Maid Lemonaid [bitter stuff]

Stars: Overcast with the First Quater Moon

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blur…

Sitting on a house high on the hill, injecting coke and watching a old friend continually base his coke into his lungs. Sweating… Uh let me relax for a second… Ugh my stomach… Cokes gone and the suns still has not set. I think I might go home… Untill suchandsuch gives me a X pill (blue telephones or some shit) I hate x, but I take it anyways. Chased down with 2mg of xanax and a cold beer. 10 mins I feel effects.

Pillls, pillls, pillls, everybody wants my pills. I only trade so you best have something worth my while. hint: stinky green buds or better yet an ounce of high grade commercial seeved thru a 120 mesh silkscreen to help me over come my tweek. Thursday runs into Friday and Friday gets spilled down my throat, girls, booze, breasts, just fucking get naked already and shut up, Oh and pack the bowl before you get into bed. Saturday, its Saturday right?

Meet-up with some girl I kinda want to get with and see a good live show, tooo much drugs, whatta want, whatta need, one phone call, lets go score smack, lets go get coke, lets go drown in alcohol, lets just sit here and have a good time, PLEASE…? Inhabitions and normal thinking went out the window years ago and I have a hard time pissing in public washrooms…? Call me nutz, call me, me…

People want more pills, whatta got…? Please I know you just gave ‘so-and-so’ a half a pill, Yea so what makes you think I am going to give you one, yes I see your money, no I dont care, leave me alone, take a pill and please dont call.

80 inch projection walls, dug out couchs, midnight sun, cutting thru the steam rising out of the hottub, girls clad in multicolored throw rugs, nipples, flesh, lick, please dont ask me for anything.

Family parties intertwinded in between days, speed up on Adderall, not really cracked out, crack a St. Paulies Girl before my shoes come off, shovel the great food down my mouth, do shots [liquor] with my sister fiance, get asked by about 4 family members if I am staying clean… No I was just shooting up in your bathroom… Of course I am clean I am on some new medicine, which pill bottle do you want to see, this one that one or the one that lie’s between my index and pointer fingers. Spin off into the sunset…

Easter’s today, thats right, where am I? One of those rare times I wake up not having a clue where the fuck I slept. GO HOME, nobodies home.

The families Easter takes place at the hospital and I load up on benzos and the prettiest maryjane you ever done see… I am tempted to look thru the patient med cabinet that lies un-maned in the hallway. Listen to old stories of Chicago and try not to tear up. I am falling asleep in a chair, my grandmother looks better, but not good.

HEROIN HEROIN HEROIN

Has already worn out my welcome mat, broke down my front door, kicked in my bedroom door, and tied me up in slip knots. I want to use but I dont and I dont. Instead I dream elaborate dreams of dope… (an imaginary location I have created in my subconscious that always allows me to get high, I return to this city? on a constant basis …)

Fuck me, fuck you, fuck this, at least I have a ounce of Crypt so I can hide behind the smokescreen of life. I am not a drug dealer, I’m to paranoid, I use drugs, not sell um go elsewhere, call somebody else, anything but dont call me. I feel the ‘ache’ comming on, its starting on in my shoulders, screw it I place the pill under my tongue and decide not to spell check this fable.

I watch my dog chase its tail, and wonder what I will do tommorrow…?

– <![CDATA[ blur…

Sitting on a house high on the hill, injecting coke and watching a old friend continually base his coke into his lungs. Sweating… Uh let me relax for a second… Ugh my stomach… Cokes gone and the suns still has not set. I think I might go home… Untill suchandsuch gives me a X pill (blue telephones or some shit) I hate x, but I take it anyways. Chased down with 2mg of xanax and a cold beer. 10 mins I feel effects.

Pillls, pillls, pillls, everybody wants my pills. I only trade so you best have something worth my while. hint: stinky green buds or better yet an ounce of high grade commercial seeved thru a 120 mesh silkscreen to help me over come my tweek. Thursday runs into Friday and Friday gets spilled down my throat, girls, booze, breasts, just fucking get naked already and shut up, Oh and pack the bowl before you get into bed. Saturday, its Saturday right?

Meet-up with some girl I kinda want to get with and see a good live show, tooo much drugs, whatta want, whatta need, one phone call, lets go score smack, lets go get coke, lets go drown in alcohol, lets just sit here and have a good time, PLEASE…? Inhabitions and normal thinking went out the window years ago and I have a hard time pissing in public washrooms…? Call me nutz, call me, me…

People want more pills, whatta got…? Please I know you just gave ‘so-and-so’ a half a pill, Yea so what makes you think I am going to give you one, yes I see your money, no I dont care, leave me alone, take a pill and please dont call.

80 inch projection walls, dug out couchs, midnight sun, cutting thru the steam rising out of the hottub, girls clad in multicolored throw rugs, nipples, flesh, lick, please dont ask me for anything.

Family parties intertwinded in between days, speed up on Adderall, not really cracked out, crack a St. Paulies Girl before my shoes come off, shovel the great food down my mouth, do shots [liquor] with my sister fiance, get asked by about 4 family members if I am staying clean… No I was just shooting up in your bathroom… Of course I am clean I am on some new medicine, which pill bottle do you want to see, this one that one or the one that lie’s between my index and pointer fingers. Spin off into the sunset…

Easter’s today, thats right, where am I? One of those rare times I wake up not having a clue where the fuck I slept. GO HOME, nobodies home.

The families Easter takes place at the hospital and I load up on benzos and the prettiest maryjane you ever done see… I am tempted to look thru the patient med cabinet that lies un-maned in the hallway. Listen to old stories of Chicago and try not to tear up. I am falling asleep in a chair, my grandmother looks better, but not good.

HEROIN HEROIN HEROIN

Has already worn out my welcome mat, broke down my front door, kicked in my bedroom door, and tied me up in slip knots. I want to use but I dont and I dont. Instead I dream elaborate dreams of dope… (an imaginary location I have created in my subconscious that always allows me to get high, I return to this city? on a constant basis …)

Fuck me, fuck you, fuck this, at least I have a ounce of Crypt so I can hide behind the smokescreen of life. I am not a drug dealer, I’m to paranoid, I use drugs, not sell um go elsewhere, call somebody else, anything but dont call me. I feel the ‘ache’ comming on, its starting on in my shoulders, screw it I place the pill under my tongue and decide not to spell check this fable.

I watch my dog chase its tail, and wonder what I will do tommorrow…?

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Well for some reason I had a sleepless night, most likely from getting to much sleep the previous day.  I went to the book shop earlier in the evening and stocked up on some books so my sleeplessness was not a total waste.  For some reason occasionaly get weird muscle spasms if I am worn out or not well rested, usualy they happen on my eyelids a constant twitching that drives me crazy.  Today however its in my left shoulder and its twitching pretty good, it started at around 3-4am, it is now 9:48am.  I took a larger dose of my buprenorphine today because I was reading/read a pretty darn good book concerning some kids jouney thru life and his escapades touring with the Grateful Dead.  Half way thru the book he becomes addicted to smack and that peeked my interest and I couldnt stop reading so I finished it [good read I recomend it, 3 needles outta 4, not a whole lot of junky bizness but not your typical drug-a-log that most heroin].  Here are the books I got:

  •  Tiger in a Trance – Max Ludington
  •  The Gospel According to Gracey – Suzanne Kingsbury
  •  White Lines ‘Writers on Coke’ – Stephen Hyde and Geno Zanetti
  •  The Hurbert Huncke Reader – Herbert Hunke [needed a new copy, other one is lost]                              

 

Than while reading in bed after a nice dose of bupe and ativan my arm muscle still wouldnt relax I took some klonapin.  Followed by a small glass of water with baking soda disolved in it, hopefully it will basify my body and chase the acidosis thats causing the twitching.  Than BOOM out of nowhere a large hawk or some other large bird chased a smaller bird, bang right into my window.  I thought for sure it was dead, I looked everywhere couldnt even find any feathers.  Which is good because that event usually is a superstition forecasting a death.  Than I thought I heard something crawling, skimpering around so I go back out to look and there is this fat-boy woodchuck or something just staring at me on the sidewalk, it scurried away into the bushes and as I glance up there is a heron circling our pond out back, the culprit who I believe has been dipping into the stock of Koi fish and filling his/her belly.  Reminder to get some more water plants to cover the open water up some more I already have 2-3 sets of lillypads that cover a large area [3×4 feet per lilly] and a few other random plants that live on the top of the water.

 
Anyways…  Theres a wrap-up on my action packed morning.  I already feel tired but my damn twitching muscle wont let up and is driving me crazy.  Now I am getting one of those early morning-no sleep type of headaches.  Maybee I should go lay on the couch draw the blinds and watch a movie and catch a nap, either that or start another book.  Well if you read this far you are as bored as I am so Cheers to that

Drinking: Apple Juice

Music:  Wilco – She’s a Jar

Weather: perfect high of 80 today

Outlook: lazy boring day 

 

 

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"Where is the cave where the wise woman went/And tell me where is all the money that I spent?/I propose a toast to my self-control/See it crawling helpless on the floor/Someday there’ll be a cure for pain/And that’s the day I throw my drugs away" – Morphine, "Cure for Pain", 1993

 
Forced into the wicked streets into the hands of lost souls…

Hot-boxin my joint as I round the corner.  My only exposed face is hidden behind a swirling cloud of sweet smelling organic smoke.  I feel uneasy.

Enter the dopeman. 1000 grams of nod
deal that deck, flip the pack. 2 for 1 afterdark.
pockets swollen

Upon the first block ragged individuals eye me with ravenous looks of disgust.  Squatting, hiding in the darken door-frames, yellowed eyes, slunched down in cars.  Shouting Scummy…

The first signs of narcotic life, start to sprout.  Like a Papaver somniferum variety breaking thru the soil and bathing in the golden sun of life.

Shattered lifes a plenty
Backs against the wall
Sunken eyes and sniffing noses, hollow faces
executed by the streets, making plans to get high.
Held down by the arm of law [which is broken and in an opiated cast made up of Hundred dollar bills]
Exit the wild west and the gang-bang-boogie…

Step back into the car, seal off the insanity, and hide behind the tint.  An old girlfriend wanted me to go to some bullshit opening of some photo shoot thing (that I really have no desire to see), I agreed demanding I score before hand.

Here just eat these [handed her low-dose white/green Librium caps] and take a left so we can get out of here, dont pull the SUV over, argh… (bitch).

How much did you get…? huh? huh?

Here snort your self silly.  I make myself busy flipping the dials on the radio, until I settle on an old Marvin Gaye song and slip back into the leather.  Feeling the beginning effects of the green and black Librium caps I popped I decide to slam my dope so I can deal with what ever will present itself.

Ohhhh your soo fuct-up… Duh what did you think…?

Ain’t no Sunshine when shes gone…

We get to the gallery in a droop-eyed fashion.  I gravitate directly toward the free-drinks and gulp down two Early Times and sit down to rest my eyelids.  Lynn is off probably trying to explain her pictures in a half-nod.

I myself am fantasizing what it would be like to grab that short hair girl I keep catching looking at me [maybee she knows a dope fiend when she see’s one and wants to score, maybee she wants the dick, who knows?].

Anyways, where was I…

Oh yea, in the process of stripping her naked with my eyes and clearing the Hor’derve table with a swipe of the hand and laying her out, fucking her hard, the whole time madly stuffing crab cakes in her mouth and laughing hysterically…

Drew… Drewwww… wake up…?!!!

Are you going to sit here or meet my friends, uh… Sit here??? kidding.

Yea who has some speed no coke?"
Fucker…!"
laughter, lets go…

Holding each other to help hold up the crushing nod of the narcotics, babble drifts in my ears and out.  There is something missing in this picture, I can’t make out a clear description, the reception is tweaking my perceptions (deceptions).

New condos…
New Anti-depresants…
New boyfriends…
Im clean, just got out of a 21 day program…
Back from vacation…
New shrinks…
Im drunk…
I got smack, pills and am looking for speed, wanna party?
hehehe
FUCK what am I dealing with… (life?)

I excuse my self and make toward the rear of the railroad type (long and narrow) gallery and B-line to the bathroom.  I wash my face and than splash cold water on my face and look into the eyes of a confused person.  I take a minute to study the graffiti’d bathroom walls looking for names I see plastered all over the city.

"EL Diablo" in think black marker catches my eye as I turn to leave, smudging my vision slightly.

Opening the door, I am greeted by the short hair girl.  I know instantly she zoned into the fact I have narcotics in my pockets, a type of opiate telepathy.  Used to conjure groups of troops in the old daze of war. "The Harrison Act’ and propellor based air-o-planes all came to a heap of a wreck.

"A nice cup of pink methadone on the rocks Maddam?"
"Oh excuse me…"
"Hi, Im Jane…"
‘Drew’
"I couldn’t help notice you looked pretty tired out there… (hoping?)".
"Yea this medicine is a doozy."
"what kind?"
"What kind do you want?" smiling slyly.

A quick exchange of numbers (she gets my second cell #, the one used for dope fiend girls plastered behind the disguise of a ‘normal 9-5 city-girls’) and a sample of the devil.

She’ll call soon… (Do I care?)

Not really, I don’t really care about shit.  I really could careless if I get fucked, sucked, or ducked, tonite, but I’ll settle on the sucked.  Lynn’s one not to disappoint.

OUT the DOOR…

I love the rain and as it hits my face I smile, Crumbly leafs blow upon our feet.  Distracting my attention from the nothingness I am thinking about.  The oranges, reds, and purples remind me while I love fall.

Just another day in the boring life of an addict.  No question… the world keeps spinning and I sit still.

radar scope
blue light flash
run
beat

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Junk is the cellular equation that teaches the user facts of general validity – William Burroughs


The grandfather lazily swayed to the beat of nature on his worn-in rocking chair.  The one with the woven leather seat that fits ‘Oh just right’.  The arms of the chairs marked with slashes, denote various significant events.  His hope by vandalizing the chair in deliberate lines would help to trigger the many memories that are cataloged in his brain.  Memory retrieval ‘ain’t like it used to be…?

Stretched out before him lay the beauty of the White Mountains in the peak of the Autumn foliage change. Pure relaxation at its finest.

It’s at moments like this when his body can enter a state where instant recall of anything is possible.  Thought tangents usually manifests themselves in a movie version of his dreams from days, months, years past.  Random dream images so crisply seeded that it seems the event is so fresh it has not even been accomplished yet.  At other times strange mathematical formulas get handwritten into his cranium, not big on science or math he has yet to full transcribe his mental mathbook with the foreword by ‘The Hall of Records’.

This fine afternoon his thoughts flow out of his forehead with a vengeance.  Picture a stampede of wild horses speeeding off into the distance, behind they leave a cloud of swirling dust.  On the edges of the dust clouds where the smoke is less dense and starts shading to white.  Spinning out of the dust…

Raining test-tubes
Hailing narcotics
Thundering chops of the razor
Lighting torches
Corrupt

The long arm of the poppy is dripping in pleasure.  While the teenage addict squirming in insanity.  Drowning in a puddle of sweat.  Demoralized and torn to shreds, her morals went out the window when her habit came busting thru the front door.  I feel sorry watching her from above twisting in what seems like agony.  She is left with her pain..

[wide-shot of busy inner-city street, speed zoomed to the front facade of a neon-glitzy ‘We Buy Gold, Top Dolla’ pawnshop]

Jimmy’s heart is pounding out of his chest as he carries in his brothers PS2 game station, and a low grade DVD player.  He is so desperate for a fix if they wont buy his shit it might get ugly.  The Arab standing behind the 2-inch thick bullet proof glass sees the anguish in Jimmy’s eyes and even more so in his tracked and bruised arms.  50 dollars and Jimmy already feels better.

Feed the fever…
beg, borrow, cheat, lie, steal, demoralize, dehumanize, and puke…
Its time for him to feed the beast…

The trust fund is capped by his father.  No more 2 gram-a-day habits.

Dirty, homeless, and 16, spun out in a dead end alley Ethan is barely conscious as the dope starts to take effect.  Plunging his body into a wrap of pure crystal clear opiated bliss.  Showing its true strength as the morning light creeps onto his blue tined body.  Which has no effect on the pigeons as they continue picking on what ever they pick at.

Shoulda’ never left home, broken home, broken body. Coulda’ Woulda’

‘random Images:’

raining multicolored pills
dementa
Suzie-Q skipping down the sidewalk with a nose fulla ketamine
glass syringes that morph into 1/4 gram bottles of powdered dilaudid
some parent with her head buried in a Bible sobbing uncontrollably
a nice set of juicy thighs

The crisp starched white jacket is imbrodered with a small red cross, the smell of antiseptic fills the room.  Her pupils are pinwheels and her skirt is short.  She raises the syringe up right and taps it to remove the air bubbles.  A slight push of the plunger releases a transparent crystal clear drop of liquid.

As the drop shoots out of the tip the constant quality of motion begins to warp and all focus is drawn to the single bead of liquid.  Reflected in the droplet is a micro recreation of my current setting.

Inject, divided, and zipped up backwards.  WHAT IS THIS SHIT MORPHHHHINE…?

The imaginary dust kicked up by the White horses is thinning and ol’ grandpa is slipping back into his body. His body is creaking and his bones are jonesing for a taste of some good old’ narcotica.

spinning, spiraling, syringes… OUT OF CONTROL

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