Yes I do get angry I guess. (In answer to a statement S made often in the last year)

I was just at the reno house in Heidelberg, Benny asked "How's S "

"I dunno, she stopped talking to me when I asked for the front door key back. She got kinda pissed".

Benny did his puzzled expression "But isn't the whole point of moving out..." -

- "Never to come back" I interjected


Anyway, i realised I was pissed about her refusal to return the front door key. As the Mumbler said, I was convenient to S, with the iPod recharge, the Adobe applications (Which I have since deleted). But then we must remember that mumbler is possibly misogynistic...Everything is so complicated, and every statment has filters and prejudices that you need to subtract to getto the meaning, if any, of the original statement.

Mumbles suggested changing the lock and giving management the new key. Maybe. But I'd prefer a Swiss solution, peaceful.

Did I mention she deleted my name from her mobile phone? A week ago (when she was still talking to me) she reckoned she'd sent me an SMS that I never replied to. I said I didn't get it, and she said she'd sent it to the wrong mobile number. "Why" I asked. "I deleted it months ago after an argument". That one hit home I must say. I guess being a data nerd the thought of deleting someone's phone number from your phone is pretty intense to me. I'd like to think she has friends who at present are telling her everyday to keep away from me, to not SMS me, to not ring. I am not contacting her because she left me, she wants space from me so she has it, and I will only ring in a very serious situation, at least until I get the response to my letter. Quite nervous about that. Her sister V rang two nights ago, and her brother D emailed on Tuesday, so I am losing a little of that paranoia that she's told her family that I'm some kind of toxic woim (Pronounced Woi -m as in Woi- Woi). Another S remnant, our evolved speech. I said "Yeeece" to mumbles this arvo, without thinking, he picked up on it and said it several times. Coming from him was absolutely nothing like when it came outta S's mouth.

*** A pause. Just had my blatt, so I guess you may notice a change in my demeanour - or maybe not...who knows. James Brown plays Pls PLs Pls, b4 that Janis J with a live rendition of Tell Mama (as I blatted) . I think some Billie H to go with my H (no laughter expected, I know it was lame). Yes Blue Moon is on now. No tears, gabo dried 'em up good n quick.

Not bad gabo, and I have more in my metaphorical pocket for later. Maybe I won't be alone. Maybe there's a nice girl out there, well at least for the night. Rent or hire, I ain't fussy. But I will wait for S's response to my initial letter last Saturday. Although in my heart I expect it to be a death warrant, an execution letter, I will keep to my promise of waiting a week.

And if it is not a death warrant, what then? I waited six years already for something that I most likely had no chance of receiving from Day One....so why risk the same punishment, watching your life ebb away doing nothing, waiting in vain. So why wait?

Well, because I love the girl, idiot. She has an untapped power in her that I want to be around when it goes off. "You are the soft light in a winter shadow. " I SMS'd her once, my own crummy poetry, no reply but words always get filed somewhere in the mind, don't they? Words like that from her would be unutterably beatific to me at present.

Crazy shit that happened today:
I remember talking to northern M a couple of weeks ago whilst he put me up for a night (somewhere other than my flat to crash whilst the still-adorable Ms T was heavily but only ghostly present in my apartment). Her relocation was not an easy job (physically and emotionally), and my lack of physical assistance in the move would have been added to her already long list of grievances against me....Is that it, is that the problem perhaps? Her inability to forgive at the level that is necessary for a relationship... anyway, I ramble.

Whilst up there, M mentioned cryptosporidium as a common infection amongst late 90s IV users down in Sydney, due to dirty water supply. If you were a Sydney junkie and you used tap water in a certain period, apparently you may have received an infection. I know little about it, so this morning when I awoke from a missed SMS's insistent 5 minute reminder, I got out of bed at 630 am or so and googled "cryptosporidium junkies".

The only one that sounded relevant (there was a crazy baptist damnation of some ex wife, made me think I was handling my current situation very well) was yet another forum on breakfornews.com.

You wouldn't believe it, but by searching for info on water-sourced IV-introduced infections, I found a forum with a poster who talked about a user that I personally knew in the early 90s, a good person who I spoke with the day he died.

I'm not a big user of forums, but I know people can get quite heated (it's only words you say, then they track you down and come to your door with an axe, if you're posting to someone in the same city!)

So I am unsure as to whether I should reply to this poster, starsludge is his name, and I have a feeling his real name starts with G, if he's the person I am thinking of. I could be very wrong of course. This would not be my first mistake in this life.

But whether I know this person or not, he stated some incorrect info on this guy I used to know.

"Well he was a civil engineer working for main roads, we got back to Brisbane at 3 in the morning and so he went off to work, I presume using a mix of speed and smack to get him through the day.

He died from an OD the night after. "

Saying he'd OD'd as cause of death is where I have my dispute. Maybe it's petty, but it was the end of a good person's life, and to me it is important to get right how a person died. If I got hit by a car and died I wouldn't want people telling other people that I had been crushed under a filing cabinet.

Anyway, I remember this person's French girlfriend ringing me that night saying "...you must do something, he is very sick..." several hours after the shot. ODs are usually very soon after the injection. Hours after a shot doesn't make sense unless the user has been topping up with pills and booze. And although opiate overdose is listed as the cause of death, who canreally say which killed you, the slepers, the alcohol or the opiates?

The French girlfriend ringing me in a panic didn't describe OD symptoms. He was sick, poisoned. So you say "the gabo was poisoned" well possibly, except I used most of that quarter ounce batch myself with no ill effects.

So I am thinking it's a spoon/water issue. Somewhere along the "chain of injection" my friend inadvertently introduced some bacterium into his fit and died within a half day.

Sobering stories, except they don't sober junkies, who (in my case anyway) accept death as an integral part of using, like waiting hours for a dealer to get their act together and actually step out their front door to meet you on the corner.

I'd like to day that I told the girl to take my friend to a hospital, and most likely I did, but I cannot swear on it. As I say, at was over a decade ago, I was injecting a quarter gram of 45% pure gabo around six times a day, and I do remember being angry at this call. Guilt upon guilt. Cynical me probablythought the call was just another elaborate tick request.

Other stuff:

Hey, I notice that I am pretty over TV atm. I don't watch much at all, and get little out of it when I do. What don't I miss? Hmmm, can't think of anything. Downloading via torrents has really changed my whole media interaction - I wonder how much the moguls have realised the extent to which consumers like me have changed the way they absorb data? I hope they haven't.

I am picking up a computer chair tomorrow morning, gift from mum to cheer me up in my dumped state. I await S's response. All I can do is wait.