old drafts from junkylife


[Old draft 2-3 yrs old?  Ahh found the date they are dated Jan 2, 2006]

I saw the light in your eyes
I knew it was too good to be true
Deep down in those Baby blues

I sit in the darkened room watching the embers glow from with-in.  A solitude ember alive with-in itself pulses.  My pipe picks up a partial glow.  My mind listens and processes each creak and crack in the old house.  The stars are shining bright, the view framed by tree limbs reaching for there next growth ring.  Windowpanes etched in delicate swirls frost forms in the corners.  The nuances of starlite occasionally shooting the random twinkle of a prism.  All is still and slow, frozen air.  I am an ember glowing bright a faint light visible from the heavens above.  My body is in a deep relaxation.  My dreamland.  Behind my eyelids a landscape of 1950’s nostalgia [Pretty Pretty Peggy Sue, 3-button sweaters, shiny big American cars].  I think of her, the fire cracks.  Am I one of the fortunate souls who can obtain enlightenment and find true peace and joy from the simple elegance of life.  Thoughts zip thru my head, I hope one of these browsing thoughts will trigger a neurological reaction pushing me into dream world that becomes reality.

I feel a sudden sense that in my life I will have a seizure from withdrawing from benzodiazapines, I will hit my head just right, and over night I will be a savant.  I wish there was a spiritual savant out there most are idiot savants and cant really function, day-to-day.  I think to myself that just might make a good book druggie dope fiend trips hits his head and is a over night genius spreading metaphysical truths to the broken sciences that got shattered the day they started to cook the books back in the 40’s.

My spaceship is ready and waiting for a trip to the cosmos, oh how I wish I could take you.  Your hand in mine and electro-static is dancing its electronic jig on our fingertips.  Clear your head of your daily troubles, ease out of your body and meet me around the corner.  I will be floating under the street lamp.  Its such a shame the human race is so FUCKED>

I miss you
I think of you often
when I am behind the stars
when I am twiddling my fingers staring out the window
when I am with another girl
dreamlite flash
Wish to see my stash
come help me make sense of the swirl

[Old post, I decided I would post some of the 100 or so old entries I have in my draft folder.  I dont even remember writing most of these but I am thankful I am not in that mindframe  2-2.5 yrs old?]

I dont have much to say, I briefly got back with my ex this past week, I was in heaven and in hell.  I just dont understand how someone can be crazier than me…?  I didnt think it was possible.  Well I have erased her from my memory, I can not put myself thru such insanity.  It is soo unhealthy for me…

I am sad, feel fractured, and incomplete.  I cant let it get to me, I was in the clear I had her forgotten.  Than with a flick of a finger she is back, than with a flick of a finger she is gone.  I feel sick.

[tear that page out…  RIP]

It was a morning just as this in years past where I would not be able to control myself.  I awoke early 4:30 am or so, dazed and trying to fit the pieces of what happened.  Feelings of sadness, anger, disappointment, and helplessness cursed thru my being.  I roll out of bed still in the clothes I was wearing from yest. or was it the day before?  I reach for my pills… gulp, gulp, gulp.  No instant relief I think to myself as I stare out my windows at the first snow of the season.  Billions of individual snoflakes making up a white blanket.  I dont even hesitate, I am in my car and on my way to cop heroin.  The only thing that will make me forget.

Forget, thats all I want to do.  I dont want to feel, I dont want to think, I dont really even want to be alive,  My car drives itself right up to the corner where there are 3 people, wrapped in heavy winter coats, hoods pulled down tight.  The snow whips in circles.  I pull over and yell out can I get a pack?  The lifeless bodies jump into action one stands far out on the corner, watching for incoming cars.  The other runs to the curb and starts digging in the snow pulling out a crumpled piece of paper which he grabs my pack of heroin out, and crumbles it back up and re-stashes the bundles of dope.  He pulls off one glove as he gets close to my window, he hands me a strip of double sided tape, enclosed inside are 11 bags of heroin wrapped in tinfoil.  Good dope, I ask?  You’ll be back is his only answer.  I hand him a hundred bucks, which he counts and hands over to the 3rd man/child? standing in the pre-dawn darkness.

I put it in gear and my tires spin untill they somewhat get traction on the backroads of the inner-city streets.  I drive for about a block, not worried about police this early in the morning, I pull over sliding into the curb.  Before I have the car in park, I have my needles and cooker laying out on the passengers seat, I rip open the tape and free three tinfoils from their protective, waterproof seal.  My shaking hands fumble trying to unfold the bags, one bag gets dumped into the cooker, a pinky finger taste and I know I am golden.  The second bag gets emptied as the flakes of heroin gently float onto there landing space, I am reminded of the first snow of the season.  I look out my window into the dark morning light, strong wave after wave of snow blasts against my window.  For a minute I get lost in the hypnotic 3-D effect the flying, falling snow brings.  I think about her, Why? Why? did things happen the way they did?  A tear starts to well-up in my eye.  I quickly empty the 3rd foil out and stare at the mound of off-white heroin laying in a old 7-up soda can that has been ripped in half, and the bottom is used for cooking up my heroin.  I drench the mountain of heroin with a stream of water from a needle, a dark tan heroin/water solution forms.  I drop a cotton in a suck up the mind erasing, feeling destroying, ‘every-thing-is-ok’ solution.  With my heat blasting on high I tie off with my seat belt and desperately try to find a vein strong enough to pop to the surface.  After multiple attempts of stabbing myself, I finally register a crimson mushroom cloud into my needle.  I push the plunger down and fall back into my seat.

Motherfucker, ahhh. The rush starts in my chest and I can feel it being carried by my blood stream…