Tuesday, December 12, 2006

day three, or, do you have any tinfoil?

I wanted to die when I woke up this morning. This fucking shit isn't fucking helping. I need a bag so badly, it's ridiculous. I can always make it through the first and second days, but once the dope is a full "weekend" behind me, I'm done. I'll be back on the hammer by nightfall. I don't even have the money for a taxi to the bus stop, I'm fucked. But I can get a ride. I've always gotten a ride when I really needed one, and until I got that ride, I walked. I can make it to the stupid wellington mall, I know it's far when you're walking but someone will pick me up. I'll give em 5 bucks for gas. Why did I spend money on [[meth]], I wish I never found out who had some. We can help each other, he says. I can't go into detail all I can say is that I fucking love meth. He gave me [[a lot of meth]] and expected me to sit around and bullshit. I'm a drug addict, all I wanted to do was get that shit into my body somehow so I asked, "do you have any tinfoil?" Then I got stuck there. Then I got a ride back to my parents house, because no one is home there and I'm too broke to pay the motel. I don't understand people who snort their dope or coke or whatever. That shit burns like hell and makes me sneeze. I'll never snort anything again. But now, I've been up all day smoking all sorts of things. I better stop typing for now, I don't think I'm making too much sense.

[all cranked up with nowhere to go]

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