I’ve been all over the place lately. I should be seeing a psych or my GP at least again, maybe it’s time to come clean about my drug use? The failure of a huge hit of MXE straight to the muscles didn’t work out as intended last night and I got pissed, absolutely chugged days-old opium tea and enlisted my poor, amazing, unfortunately-tied-to-me boyfriend to cart me over to a friends place where I had a debt to pay. That aside, he was lovely and welcoming as ever…. After getting a little too high (considering the amount of opiates in my body), I sat still for a good hour hunched over eyes shut, on the nod. I’ve done this before, at least — I’ve had these feelings before, way back in a 24/7 hour diner deep in the city — and before I knew it, I stood up and blew chunks over his pretty hardwood floor.
It was repulsive. I am repulsive.
Amidst the “FUCK“‘s and the “SHIT“‘s they herded me to the bathroom to wash off my face and feet who had been caught in that bile/vile crossover. I’m a mess lately. Then with their aid, straight down the stairs and strapped into the car for a ride home. I feel terrible; funnily enough just as terrible as I felt before this all anyway. I remember him telling me to not smoke cigarettes (which I didn’t) because nicotine and opiates apparently don’t mix, but now I recall that he spins his weed with a good cigarette’s worth most of the time anyway. Was that it?
After I force this meal down my shrivelled throat (I’m three bites down and already full) I’ll probably shower and get back to lying down with all the regrets and mistakes I’ve ever made in my life as bedfellows. I need to find out what’s wrong with me… Despite this, all I want to do is get high again.
Friends who give you ghost drops are the best kind of friends (I need to find an online supplier i found an online supplier and have two hundred of these babies coming my way this is why you don’t give children money)