170906more


fighting the urge to ring S to hear her voice. i know that it's harder for me than it is for her, me being fucked up n stoned, her getting better.

but that doesn't help. nor did the $100 gabo shot after lunch. nor the 3 valiums i've had, or the metro and then the extra metro. none of it clouds my desire to feel her presence even electrically.

hoping i can just pass out with my desires unactioned. this is the best i can hope for in my life at 35 years. it's like when i have been hanging out, everything is so damned awful, so unbearable, so tortuous, all you can dream of, if you can dream in that terrible state, is that you will be unconscious sometime sooner rather than later.

little things help with hanging out, as they do with this withdrawal from S. Music, that helps. Heavy work, something you cannot do so much when very ill, but when u start to get better, heavy work helps u think not of gabo. And heavy work is what i have at the moment to help me not think of S. One addiction being swapped for another, constantly, S, for gabo, for work, for what comes next?

I am not so good at the moment as they say, but what would you expect? 5 shots in 24 hours, I used to go a month with only a couple more shots than that. I have slipped into some mire, some blackness. I am forgetting gradually that there is something else. I cannot keep going through this in my life.

I don't expect to be saved anymore, that was my young naive romantic hope. Everyone told me that only I could save me, but I laughed quietly to myself at these statements. Me? Save myself? As if. No, someone would come along and help me. If I just did good things then I would be recognised somehow and someone would save me.

I think saviours did come but I was too tired by then to recognise them from the scruffs and scraps. I pushed them all away, saviours and scraps all. No contact, no talking, no communication. The wall around me is very high. Chris Knox mentioned this wall in The Slide off his 80s Dogma album. I knew instinctively then it was being built around me, accreted you might say, like coral. There is no window out of this place anymore.

back