Friday, May 16, 2008

Mash Taters.

Today is like any other day: Get up, get off, and go look for more . I stood in the alley for about 45 minutes - smell of sewage and feces and urine - me and nine others waiting for the pack-man to show up with all the goodies, the whole time telling myself how stupid I am standing there waiting - waiting cause the man is never on time. The dope isn’t even really worth waiting for this just happens to be the best garbage around. But there I am me and nine other shriveled quivering wrecks standing in the alley of a known drug spot in a shitty cartel neighborhood waiting to cop dope wishing this little Motherfucker would hurry up. It is cold the spot is hot and I am not feeling very well even though I did a wake up. I don’t know - things are not the same - it becomes harder and harder to cop. The dope all over is garbage when you do get lucky and find a decent spot some idiot junky comes along and tells them how good their dope is and they start cutting it more than it already is. I don’t really want to stop getting high I love it too much. I just hate the process of getting high. Traveling 45 minutes on the bus, standing around waiting, and trying to get out of there as soon as possible. I am looking forward to summer it won’t be so bad. I hope.
Coming undone at the lines of stitching, back for more, the insignia transforms into burgundy, I stomach your latest barrier, this one that divides my mind…the beauty of it all, the splendor of some unpaid amphetamines…Junkie he… This slit in my neckline, how did it happen upon me? My imprint is on the raw term paper, it hemorrhages onto the floorboards…My heart is drenched…Thought we both needed a companion to scurry to…
Have you ever longed to lead a transient life? Kerouac-esque - hitching rides, immersing yourself in the scenes and sights of a new town completely and totally only to wake the next day and start anew. A different trip each day and a different kick every night. Here is the problem that lies with-in: where would one be able to hag ones hat? Where would home be? Would it be possible to, at some point, transition back to every day life?
Maybe a Drugstore Cowboy sorta approach would be an alternative. Get a crew of close friends together, to do what you need to survive. That may also rectify the home problem. If you were with those that made you feel comfortable.
Maybe I'm just dreaming of an escape from the mundane today.
Ahhhh, yes I've missed the sweet lolling of miss poppies special tea. She has come to visit me today just in time, too. The Trivial was becoming much to worrisome. The others I live with not speaking unless my oh so very horrible behavior is troubling them. Its a shitty situation but it seems I must deal with the criticisms and lack of trust to attain my goal in all of this. I don't really know what that goal is just yet but, I’ll just keep telling myself that I'm working vigilantly toward it. Maybe I am, maybe not. Time will tell.
Its off to another sleepless night, for me…..

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