Day TWENTY

Ah fuckme. Can’t get to sleep with sweating and kicking and turning still. That’s my three week prediction coming true I guess. Feeling a bit better. Just very flat physically and generally lost and faded mentally

. But wait, think I always felt that way.

Just had to talk myself down from putting some fresh slices in my upper arm (turns out I have to keep my right sleeve down all the time – and it’s a problem, so upper shoulder could be a better position for these little mark… heheheheheh – bit of a bummer my white covers and my favourite hoody appear to have developed blood like stains….).. Maybe I SHOULD NOT LISTEN TO UB40 THE PILLOW when it is left on record player first thing in the morning.

Forgive me if I get some of the words wrong, was my favourite song at age 11 or something… I should know the words by now..

A smile for every passing car, when one stops with door ajar, she srugs n says Que Sera, she turns her thoughts to the pillow….

Her face is etched with memories, she finds no joy amid the sleaze it’s hard to when you’ve been paid to please, so she turns her head to the pillow……..

Daylight comes, she rests her head, the beauty of an empty bed,
she dreams of happy days instead of brooding on tomorrow…..

She swapped her dreams of shiny knights, for pushup bras and money fights, for nameless face in red light, so she turns her head to the pillow…….

The black eyes don’t hurt no more she’s heard the jokes and laughs before, she’s felt the long arm of the law, so she turns her head to the pillow….

Daylight comes, she rests her head, the beauty of an empty bed,
she dreams of happy days instead of brooding on tomorrow…..

TAKING DRUGS was not for fun, it made her feel like going on, but now it hurts when it’s all gone and she turns her head to the pillow.

She Takes A Blade and Cuts her skin, sweet life source flow from within, the white clouds in her head turn dim, and she turns to face the pillow….

Sunlight creeps across her head, a pale beauty in a crimson bed, no more dreams of happy days ahead, there will be no more tomorrows……

Once again all I can say is listen to the lyrics of any music your 9-10-11-12 year olds are listening to. Don’t be afraid to let them on the Playstation and kill mutliple men in real armed combat. It is probably preferable.

Boring.

Want to do stuff. Can’t. Just feel spaced out. Slow, vision still blurry. Think I’d be okay with a chainsaw in the rain chopping up some tree’s. Might not be though. In fact, I (for those who have no idea) am a bona fide fuckwit. Imagine having a cold or light flu and taking heaps of paracetomol or something. There’s not one thing really wrong, but there is not a whole lot of correct either. Just dropped the pill bottle on the floor (omeprazole – stomach ulcer time….) but got one down and typing this as have to wait half hour before eating…. Seems silly, my stomach feels horrid now! And they only gave me thirty 20mg tablets saying “one a day before breakfast”. Have done that for a week and it appears useless. Just swallowed two. Fuckthem.

Easy does it. At N.A. meeting last night one guy said he “felt for me” the other night. Which is fair, I was holding back tears saying about the crap weekend and aftermath of with daughter. I said, it’s okay mate. One step at a time…. Uhm… Not those steps.. My own feet….. You know, fuck…. Hahahaha.

One time I ran a marathon. Fifteeen or twenty years ago. I woke up with a massive heroin hangover as I had used three days at once on Friday night, stayed up all night partying on Halcion (turns out you take ten or twenty and you don’t fall over – you go out un-coordinated partying and stealing cars and crashing). It was now Sunday. I had the worst freaken hangover you can imagine. One of those full body fucks. I staggered outside and thought I’d run a marathon. No shit. Probably the stupidest hang over cure ever. But maybe not. You should try it. Four hours later (yes, it took a long time) I was drinking beer and feeling quite good. Especially since the dealer was back in the morning. Only had to drink myself to stupor overnight.

One step after another. That’s all running a marathon is. Forget you have never trained. Forget you have a splitting headache and an exploding face for the first seven miles. Just one foot in front of the other. It’s simple. Anyone can do it.

You just have to start. And don’t relapse into laying down and going to bed. This hangover is too strong to ride out in bed.

That would be no fun at all.

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