shitty, sober, broke, hungry, stinky, painful, sick nights

I haven't posted for a while, been lazy. It's not my fault though. My roommate (Joe) rolls up 3 or 4 joints and actually wakes me up so I can smoke them with him. But of course I have to get a shot in me first, then blaze, and at some point we turn on cartoons and bring food over to the bed. You'd be lazy too. So I guess the way to keep y'all up to date is by posting stuff from my personal journal. I'm gonna leave out all the names and incriminating details that I include in my writing when it's not going on the internet. The deal is it's not edited or thought out or anything, it's just pretty much spilled guts on paper so pardon me if I'm not my usual storytelling self.

July 25, or Micheal's 23rd birthday
Very stoned writing! If you are really a junkie, it will show up in parts of your life that don't involve drugs. It's either that or my white-trashedness showing it's face, but I guess it doesn't matter where it came from. I'm stoned shitless, laying on my back at 1:30 in the afternoon eating. Suddenly, I had a random thought: "Nothing beats a swallow of cold mild straight from the bottle after a handful of cereal." That's some junky white-trash shit right there. The worst part is that I was smoking a cigarette the whole time. I'm proud to be an American.
I'm not quite sure why I decided to carry this notebook around today. After all, I am pretty fucked up. There's been nothing in my head lately. I'm so used to the voices, the whispers, the noise in general filling every little spot in my brain that I don't feel right without it. The Lithium creates the emptiness that nearly drives me fucking bonkers!
Scary dream alert! Well, it was scary while I was having but once I spelled it out it was kind of stupid. I dreamed I was sitting in a restaurant holding this ancient cellphone. It was a big box that looked like a graphing calculator with buttons of both sides and ants crawling out of it. Then we realized that there was a monster in the restaurant but we couldn't run and couldn't call for help because the cellphone was such a piece of crap.

July 26, or the day after my phone bill is due
Good day, bad day? I'll let my attitude after I write this be the judge. Last night I payed my phone bill the day it was due because I didn't want it turned off at all. I awoke this morning to a turned-off phone. Oh boy was I pissed! [[boring details about how I got my phone turned back on]]
Then I made some money and called [[dealer's name deleted, I'll call her "C"]] in a hurry because I had to go with my dad to lunch and to get a blood test for [[my psychiatrist]]. Bitch didn't answer! Once my dad scooped me up and we were sitting at the Grumpy Grouper, guess who calls? Stupid "C"! Dad and me ate and went to get the blood test. The blood lady got a vein on me on the first try, which was kickass because my veins blow dead rats in hell and the phlebotanist (however that's spelled) usually ends up digging around like I do.
Then my dad bounced me off on the strip, by that time the sickness was creeping up on me and none of the dope people were picking up. I was sitting outside CVS crying and sweating when all 4 of my dealers called me back in a 3-minute period. It was awesome cause I got to pick whose dope I wanted. I chose "C" cause 1 bag of her shit knocks me flat on my ass. It creepxs up- first it fills my sinuses and my throat and it all goes kinda numb and tingly, then it grabs me real tight by the shoulders and then my head feels real heavy and hard to hold up right before my eyes either roll up or mostly shut, Then the full-body wave hits me. And that's all from one dime bag.
Then Greg came and got me. Me and him and Joe got mega-stoned and I went back to work. At one point I did too many bags and started flipping out. I was walking around the apartment falling down and crashing into things talking nonsense. Joe got scared and made me lie down. Strong dope and powerful smoke make for one fuck of a high. Oh yeah and also me and Greg had a fight, we haven't made up yet. I'm gonna have to stop writing cause I'm too high and my eyes keep rolling up in my head,
I just sent dirty pictures to a guy I met online (through my blog). Aren't I a total slut? Hah! Until next time... tons of dope, tons of dick, and tons of dough.

July 27, or the premiere of The Simpsons Movie
Woke up, shot up, smoked up, washed up, shot up, came up, hooked up, came back up, shot up, snorked up a copule Valiums, then went with [[my cousin]] Lorry and [[my brother]] Lucas to Crazy Buffet and to see The Simpsons Movie. God it was hilarious- Bart gives us a full frontal! Came back up, hooked up again, shot up again- this time blowing my hand up like a balloon. It's on fucking fire, aaargh! Funny story- I was at this guy's house giving him a blowjob when his wife came to the door. He ran me out so quick he didn't even let me grab my shoes! I had to hide in his backyard barefoot amongst rotten mangos waiting for him to tell me it was okay to go and give me back my sandals. Then the fucker nade me give him his change back! Shit, I deserved it all, stupid prick. I just put a Valium under my tongue, Scott told me it'd hit quicker and stronger that way. So far- nothing. All in all though, it was one fun fuckin' Friday night.

July 28, or Valium hangover day
I did too much Valium last night and didn't wake up until past 3pm. I've been pill-high all day, and mixing it up with the heroin and marijuana I've been using since I opened one crusty little eye has been a hell of an experience. I've been sleepy and itchy and dumber than a bucket of hair all day. Right now I'm smoking a Newport and trying to keep my eyes from crossing. I talked to Micheal last night and told him that I had 19 days clean. What a fucking liar I am! I just wanted him to be proud of me, to like me, to have a reason to see me. I would do anything to quit heroin for real and for good. The problem with rehab is that I'd be miserable there and if I was miserable in my early sobriety I'd say fuck it real quick. I need to have other shit going well for me if I ever expect to quit.

July 30, or rent day
I worked all day. All day, from about 2pm to past 11pm. I was trying to make my $140 rent, which I must have made 4 or 5 times over but I kept buying heroin. It was an unstoppable force- I'd have another hund (and dope) in my pocket and think I was finishing up but, like a robot, I'd pick up the phone and call the dope girl ("C"). I made 4 buys today before I begun collecting the fucking rent. Also I ate and bought cigs and scratch-off lotto tickets, but over $280 went straight in my arm. This shit really needs to stop. I also took OxyContin. My rent is paid in full (on time), my phone bill is paid for another 3 weeks, the dishes are done, there are groceries here, my clothes are clean, I'm feeling awesome, and I got heroin for tonight and the morning. What a pleasant change from the shitty, sober, broke, hungry, stinky, painful, sick nights I've been through lately. Hooray!

Aug 1, or check day, aka "wake up, wake up, wake up, it's the first of the month so grab your checks and come up"
I wish I had nail clippers.
That fucking asshole! Another 20 minutes I gotta wait? This is the part of being a junkie that I hate, it's a really anxious, depressing, dopesick state of mind.
[[to the tune of Papa Roach's "Scars"]]
Tear my arm open until my eyes shut
The secret is not to do too much
But these scars remind me that I have no vein
But if I can find one, it'll kill the pain
[[to the tune of Taylor Swift's "Teardrops on my guitar"]]
You're the only asshole I want in my life
You treat me good but also cause me fucking pain and strife
You're a dick, you're pure gold, you're a creepy dirty old man too
Greg, I'm in love with you!
[[my day]]
I was supposed to see Micheal today, but dickface didn't call. It's all good though, I wasn't really expecting him to go through with it. On Friday night while I was watching The Simpsons Movie he sent me a test that said, "I need to have sex with someone. Wanna be fuck buddies?" That's even better than getting back together with him! We get to spend time together, we get to be friends, we get to have sex (that boy is great in bed; hell, I taught him everything he knows), and we don't have to put up with any of that jealous bullshit and fighting that goes hand in hand with a serious relationship.
I just shot 3 caps of incredible stuff. Just now, like 2 minutes ago and I am rushing hard! Whoo! It's all I can smell and taste and my chest feels swollen with the shit. Also I took about 3 Valiums sublingually along with 3 chewed up Percocet 10s so my head is kinda rolling around on my neck. It feels light enough to be hollow and too heavy to hold up correctly all at the same time- I guess it's hard to explain any better than that. I've always got people asking me, "What does it feel like to shoot up heroin?" I do my best to describe it, but it's kind of hard to find the right words to portray the experience. I usually say it's just fucking awesome. What else can I say? Fucking awesome is a good way to describe it anyway. There aren't really any good metaphors worthy of describing a bangin' dope shot. God, I can't barely keep my eyes open! I passed out for half an hour just now. I was sitting up in bed writing with my feet in front of me and when I came back my left leg was totally dead. It's the morphine / Valium / Percocet / heroin / weed high and it's completely kicking my ass right now. I better go to bed, or at least lay down in the dark and watch the end of South Park or King of the Hill which were both just starting when I layed my head down "just for a couple seconds". Now the cartoons are over and all that's on is Fresh Prince of Bel-Air which is a really good show, so is Full House. And Step by Step. Yum, crushed-up Tostitos... zzzzz.
News flash: I got my dope at 11:40pm and immediately blasted off. It is now 2:20am and I haven't even touched the shit, even though I have 6 caps plus pills left. That is fucking unheard of! Usually I'd be down to 1 1/2 caps 2 hours ago and jonesing for my wake-up shot. After waiting this long, I fucking deserve a couple caps in my arm. What an idea!

Aug 5, or the day I finally updated my blog
I just woke up, shot up, got SSTTOONNEEDD, and I'm amazed I made it to the library. I slept all through my Friday night last night and didn't make shit for money cause I'm sick. Not dopesick, flu-sick. It really sucks. I'm gonna go home and go smoke more pot. Here's some questions for anyone who cares to answer in the comments section or in my email:

1) In your own words, what does it feel like to shoot up heroin?
2) What the fuck happened to Opiophile? I'm in mourning over here!
3) Anyone want my phone number?
4) Isn't Scrubs a fucking great TV show?