yer daddy can't save ya now, sum-bitch!

Lots of shit has gone down since I wrote (twice!) yesterday...

Okay, when I left the library Greg dropped me off and I went to hang with Jughead and his sister (A) and his girlfriend (N). A and N are best friends, so them 3 always seem to hang together. They were talking about some big score and then turns out, they were all planning on tripping together that night, and would I like to partake? I can't say no to free drugs, so even though I've had terrible nightmarish experiences with hallucinogens, I dropped half a hit of acid.

It was a mistake.

I didn't freak out or anything like I have in the past, no monsters came out of the wall to try and kill me, no drowning in the club or my flesh dripping off. I know I refused to remove my sunglasses, even though it was dark out. I was at the beach with Jug and the girls and I'm scared of sharks and giant squids and "sea monsters" so every few minutes Jughead would point out at the water (which we were all about knee-deep in) and yell, "look out, Shelley, there's a sea monster!" Hilarious. They drove me back to Rob's and I swear we got in 3 fucking car accidents on the way there- although no one seemed to notice but me. Rob was cool, he made sure I didn't freak, and he took me for a drive so I could see all the lights exploding like supernovas as the car went past. The worst part about acid is that you get sick and tired of it, start to get scared, and the shit just refuses to wear off. Finally I was able to go to sleep, but I woke up every 15 damn minutes and I'd open my eyes to see a swelling of colors and shapes that were just impossible and shouldn't have existed. That was scary.

Here's the shit I wrote while I was tripping, all spelling and grammatical errors are left as they were written in the notebook:

Some acid notes:
-I can't take off my sunglasses.
-Fuck a rat who can cook, better for the fooood to be shitty than filled with stuff a rat touched.
-But where are the WMDs the real ones? It isn't fake we just like to kill brown people into parking lots. I'm gonna fucking kill him! Who? That asshole! Yer daddy can't save ya now, sum-bitch! <-- I think this means Gorege Bush
-him"the brown ppl" me "Fuck em"
-How can my mind me flying everything I love will soon fade away unconscious or not it doesn't make no changes so just fucking lay back light one up and listen to the screaming of bloody fucking fear. Fear takes us to the next level of crazy. I'm not scared but maybe I'm crazy! What will become of this? Does this story have no end? Conclusion? Fuccking fairy tales killed them all so maybe I will next! Oi oi oi <---skinhead moment
-Why did I do this to myself

I woke up dopesick. Glory hallelujah. Not just dopesick, but completely DRAINED of all my energy, like I was a car battery that needed a jump. I took a pain pill which took the edge off slightly, but I was still draggin' ass. Finally I went out and made my way to Westgate with intentions of copping h. I was all set to go see my d-boy, but then realized that I couldn't be gone for weeks and then just show up at his house with no money demanding drugs. Life doesn't work like that. So I went out to see Jughead again. We drove out to Boynton Beach (aka B-Town, just like Lake Worth is L-Dub) and I tried in vain to beg some dilaudid off him. He said that he wasn't giving any out, he wasn't selling any, and that we were all sons of bitches for even asking. He did give me a fat shot of heroin though.

It sucks so bad, everyone can tell when I'm high. EVERYONE. Even if I can control the nodding and wear sunglasses (during the day), I can't stop scratching. That shit makes me itch to rival the fucking chicken pox. I'm madly scratching right now. I almost went into alcohol DTs today. I chugged a beer the second I got to Rob's and feel better now. Isn't that a son of a bitch, I shoot heroin and am STILL sick because of the damn hooch. Cross addiction is a big fat pain the ass.

Gonna eat steak and watch The Mist, which is a Stephen King short story-turned-movie. I've seen bits and pieces of it on Lucas' computer while I was in Gainesville, but only a couple monsters and I've read the book so I knew chronologically when the monsters were gonna pop up. Awesome monsters. We were gonna watch it last night, but Rob thought that acid + horror movie + a chick that tends to freak out on hallucinogens because of her own weak grasp on reality = trouble.

I am officially a South Florida girl, through and through. I can't make it through a day without going to the beach at least once, even now "in the dead of winter." It is 830 at night and it can't be under 75 degrees. I have become... a beach bum. I guess there are worse things in life to become, no? Today LW beach was covered in jellyfish and those blue fuckers, them man-o-wars. I stepped on a couple (barefooted) but the heroin was so glorious that I didn't feel a damn thing. Maybe it'll hurt tomorrow.

Good points- sunglasses at night, sea monsters, WMDs, delicious heroin shot, throwing money around the vehicle, having money to throw around the vehicle, major decision to be made, steak for dinner, The Mist, a jump-start, a second website film, jellyfish and Portugese man-o-wars, "I can't tell how cold the water is cause I can't feel my fucking FEET!!!", heroin itchies that never fade away, "I think our designated driver just passed out with the key in the door- what do we do now?", Wicket aka babydog aka snuffy aka fluffy stuff aka nooners, Derrick!