there's just so much getting better. here i sit at the end of a two or three week binge, heavy using, every day gear taken.
what's eating me at the moment is the opposite of john donne's No Man is an Island statement.
I feel completely unconnected to anyone. S turned 32 today, she spent the day at the beach. With Matt, and some girl called Colleen. (I half hoped Colleen may be Matt's girlfriend, but she's not, she's someone else's girlfriend.) Writing these words hurts me.
She'd had too big a day to come over and hang out with me. And frankly, hanging out with me at the moment feels like something she only does out of pity. Not because she enjoys it, but because she feels bad about it.

I started hearing about Matt 18 months ago, I think. A Bank Of Qld worker. I would hear what great musical taste he had. She would ring him when she needed problems solved. she would go drinking with him after work I don't know how often. She never let me meet him.

So I texted her on her birthday, 10 am ish. No response.
So I rang her 430-ish. She said she'd ring back.
She rang back at 7. She'd had a big day, not eaten, no money.

I remember an SMS six months ago that started all this moving out stuff. Well, a bit of a catalyst. I get an SMS from S saying "I Think you're lush". Something about the wording told me it wasn't meant for me, that she had sent it intended for someone else, most likely Matt, but pressed my name by mistake.

It was the words she used I guess, words she had used with me six years earlier but never again. And for the first time, I called her on it. Screamed that she was a liar. Screamed that I knew she was playing me. She went silent, denied it simply.

I cannot see how people believe in external hells with imps and devils cavorting. If hell is not what we make of our lives through ignoring the right path then I don't think it exists.

I have to try to choose the right path, remove gabo, remove jealousy, have trust. I need a direction, but then that's a silly thing to say, I have an obvious direction. Remove gabo.

I hope this binge has been my last fling. As Immortal Technique would say, my last "Dance with the Devil". I know I have said all this before, but I have to say it again, and again.

I have to take something from the fact that S wants to have dinner with me tomorrow. I have to sort out the difference between a friend and a lover.

But first I have to ride out this sickness. I see myself lying emaciated and wet on a raft in high seas, a look of tired despair on my face and just going where the waves toss me. This is me today, at 35.