dark am i, yet lovely, a lily among thorns, majestic as stars in procession

dark am i, yet lovely, a lily among thorns, majestic as stars in procession
WHY DESTROY YOURSELF? WHY DIE BEFORE YOUR TIME? THE KEEPERS OF THE HOUSE TREMBLE. DESIRE IS NO LONGER STIRRED. DO NOT CONFORM ANY LONGER TO THE PATTERN OF THIS WORLD.

Sunday, 10 March 2024

Nothing To Say

Howdy there fellow revellers in this continual procession which is life. How is the world treating you? I was so bored yesterday that I went to bed at 4pm in the afternoon. This is happening more and more, this early to bed lark, and I seem powerless to stop it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not hating it as I used to, I’m not depressed about it like I used to be, it’s just one of those things which I’m rolling along with. It could be worse; I could be locked up in a mental unit, or have no arms or legs, or be in a war zone. I’m just waiting for payday, which isn’t until next week, so I’ve got a long time to suffer brassic-ness yet. They may as well pay me in cocaine at the moment; that seems to be all I need. That, and a few meals and drinks in the pub. Unfortunately, I can’t afford both. What would you rather have?

The facilitator in Peer Support group told me off the other day for glorifying drugs. That’s a rule in Pathways (Change Grow Live): No Glorification. The saying goes that if it was all that good, then none of us would be sat here in recovery, and wishing we weren’t. I thought therapy would be like that, talking about all the good times, but apparently it’s verboten (forbidden). Who doesn’t like a decent warts ‘n’ all yarn about alcoholism and drug addiction? One time I fell asleep with my electric blanket cranked up all night after downing a bottle of whiskey, I was so dehydrated in the morning, I felt like I’d been cooked alive, only bacon butties and pop can help a situation like that.

I described snorting coke as like eucalyptus on the brain, and got told off. I was just been honest. On the other hand, drug taking is seedy and dark and nasty, with nothing positive about it whatsoever. The dealers are vermin to some, flooding our streets with poison and enslaving millions of young people by stealing away their free will and future. I know a guy in recovery, right, he’s about 16 years clean, I call him The Sheriff because he’s The Sheriff of Recovery; anyway, he says that all he would do with a bag of beak is spit on it. I wish I was like that. At the moment, I want to indulge in fat white stripes and watch porn on it. Wild, isn’t it, how two minds can vary? I went six months without it last year, I was doing really well, but I was using amphet in the meantime.

I remember the kidney pain I had towards the end of last summer, possibly through the phet use. Wow, that was ever-so bad. I couldn’t stand up, couldn’t sit down, couldn’t lie, couldn’t do nothing. It was atrocious. I was just squirming around, like an eel lying on hot drawing pins. Thanks be to God that he took that pain away from me, and hasn’t returned it since. I really don’t miss the phet at the moment. The dehydration is insane when you go into the sexual trances I enter, and it messes with your mental health something chronic. So bollocks to that happy crappy – at least until my dealer gets out of prison! Right then, okay, I’m off for a couple of pints in the pub, then it’s off home to enjoy some chicken in white sauce and rice! And bed early – again…

Apologies if it feels like I’m glorifying drugs here at the blogspot. That’s not my intention. I wouldn’t wish them on my son, and if they happened to him I’d tell him to simply enjoy. We can’t all have careers and families and other saving quantities in our lives, can we, so we ourselves, and both the godless, turn to drugs. I’m misshaping my beliefs around them at the moment, I believe that they may be just harmless comfort for the vulnerable. Probably wrong there like! The stuff we tell ourselves!

 

No comments:

Post a Comment