Pay Day Blues

I managed to get thru payday last night but the fact of the matter is that it is still all over me (the temptation to use drugs). To distract myself, when the money went in at half nine, I went to the pub and had four pints of Carling. Then I had a late midnight pizza, Meat Feast with extra jalepenos and pineapple. It was tasty. But not as tasty as a naked babe with her stillettos still on!

The urge to go Liverpool ‘loop’ shop and buy some new DVDs is quite tangible. Then I could come home and try and score. Scoring might be quick, or it might take a few hours, like going to Liverpool. It gives me a purpose and something to do though, with pure titillation at the end of it. But the new porn stars I allow to nestle into my psyche will cause havoc and destruction, when they come alive and embodied within my psychosis. Once the fun is over with, they become a problem. Plus, the Devil simply adores it when I use drugs. He celebrates my downfall with glee. Then everything spirals out of control in the madness. The rats appear from underneath the bed, perverse animations appear in my mind, and much worse. There are too many cons to list. But it is ever so exciting and addictive, I absolutely live for it, it’s so pleasurable.

Cocaine is out of the question, as it’s too expensive. I wish I could afford a bunch of it, but it’s money down the drain (or up the conk). A normal person just wouldn’t shove money up his conk, would he? Lol. We’re only talking £30 for a fat bag of whizz, which lasts the whole day and night. But it leaves me empty and depressed without any thought pattern in my head. I can’t think of a single word to say after that stuff. The coke leaves me with some residual energy, but I always feel like drinking spirits once it’s over, and that’s another £25 down the proverbial drain. Not to mention the money outlaid for the porno DVDs. £240 for a bag of coke, and it’s not even that phat. I could do with two of them ideally.

So, what are my options? Well, I’m exercising one right now, by typing this. This will kill the best part of an hour. I can go to Pause, the local mental health drop-in, where Lesley has promised me chocolates if I go in clean from drugs today. I’m also watching a box set at home, called V from the eighties, about lizards invading Earth to use humans for food. The show revolves around a handful of resistance fighters. It takes me back to when I was a kid, watching it for the first time before I was even a teenager. I made one of their spaceships out of paper one time, and flew it around the lightbulb!

Then what. It’s just an hour here and an hour there, not enough to fill the full day. Pornography and drugs blitz the whole day and beyond, no messing. That’s why nothing can compare with it, and why I’m in a whole heap of trouble fighting this pervasive disease. There’s just nothing else to do, and no way to pass the time. It is good being clean, it’s a higher plain, and I have to keep reminding myself of where I end up in my so-called schizophrenia. The darkness is unreal, it takes me three days to snap out of it, for the voices to ease down, and another four or so to get completely back to normal. There is a case in point to be made that one never ever actually gets back to normal, once the insane doors of psychosis have been fully opened. That’s the danger, that I might get traumatised if I keep burning the candle at both ends. We don’t want that, do we…?