Jan 5th, 2005
Mum's birthday today - I've had a pretty ace day and I'm full of good food and good drugs so it's been a good day.
On Wednesday I woke up late because I took too many pills the night before (I took some Phenergan as well, to take the opiate itch away - told Mum it was fleas making me itch....) and didn't come around until the afternoon when I woke with the shits. I wasn't feeling very well altogether until I had another pill to take the edge off - then I was hungry as a horse and feeling generous so I took Liam to Ollie's and bought us lunch.
I purposefully fueled up big-time because I planned to ride the glass boat with Captain Methamphetamine later and you need that fuel when you're tweaking or Captain Methamphetamine decides to snack on fried mussels (well....muscles) and you lose shape. Losing shape never bothered me till a doctor told me if I kept using meth I was going to start burning away the muscles around my heart and lungs. So now I eat no matter what.
After Ollie's I ritualistically burned some incense while I dug into that lovely crystal meth I got from Julian - five generous scoops full so that there was a 'layer effect' going on on the floor of the vessel and when it heated there was a pool big enough to bloody swim in.
Of course it hit me so hard I nearly jumped out the fucking window! Full of Pure energy (the other way you can tell I'm fried - I become the fountain of amphetamine-laced wit) I rounded up Liam and the dogs and we had a power walk around Onehunga Bay, where I bored Liam babbling on at seven-hundred miles per hour about how I didn't think it was fair the government bringing drug-testing on the roads to New Zealand because some drugs ('methamphetamine, just for example....') make you a better driver.
A big French mastiff, with a set of balls like brass knockers, came over to play with Cullen and Lola and it stopped to sniff Liam then proceded to pee all down his leg. I was beside myself!
Liam laughed awkwardly (well, pseudo-laughed) then dragged me off home, insisting that he drive because over his dead body was he being caught being driven by someone so 'obviously' high on P. I suppose I was hopping like the Energizer Bunny and laughing like Spongebob Squarepants.
Goddamn I'm barbecued - all aboard...I'm going off the rails on a crazy boat! (Well at least I'm not shooting it at the moment!)
I spent the rest of that afternoon (and evening) watching Outrageous Fortune, chain-smoking, talking to inanimate objects and dogs and anything that would listen. I wrote a letter to Charlie, which I'll send off with a stash of ice, speed, weed, codeine, coke and Ritalin, for a belated Christmas drug binge.
I'm nice but I have ulterior motives - I'm pleading to be sent some of his oxy and Dilaudid. I'm just beginning to find morphine isn't exactly working again and I don't want to have to go back to 'opioids I have to inject' (ie. homebake and heroin). Fuck I'm turning back into a junkie.
Hey, stop thinking like this, Lydia, you're high on crack - who cares what happens in the future...just enjoy the fucking P while it lasts!
NB. Liam is my younger, long-suffering brother, who did 'all the right things' in life.
Cullen and Lola were the dogs we had at that time (we still have Lola, the pitbull/bulldog/labrador/mastiff, but Cullen, the labrador, had to move on, as he kept escaping out of our property!)
Charlie is an alter-ego for a druggie penpal I had at the time, living in the States (we didn't hav oxy over here back then - we still dont hav dillys![:\](https://bluelight.org/xf/BL_Images/Orig_Emoji/wrygrin.gif "wry grin :\")
)....and yes we did send drugs to each other with our letters....I won't go into how we managed it but it was pretty dangerous of us!
Mum's birthday today - I've had a pretty ace day and I'm full of good food and good drugs so it's been a good day.
On Wednesday I woke up late because I took too many pills the night before (I took some Phenergan as well, to take the opiate itch away - told Mum it was fleas making me itch....) and didn't come around until the afternoon when I woke with the shits. I wasn't feeling very well altogether until I had another pill to take the edge off - then I was hungry as a horse and feeling generous so I took Liam to Ollie's and bought us lunch.
I purposefully fueled up big-time because I planned to ride the glass boat with Captain Methamphetamine later and you need that fuel when you're tweaking or Captain Methamphetamine decides to snack on fried mussels (well....muscles) and you lose shape. Losing shape never bothered me till a doctor told me if I kept using meth I was going to start burning away the muscles around my heart and lungs. So now I eat no matter what.
After Ollie's I ritualistically burned some incense while I dug into that lovely crystal meth I got from Julian - five generous scoops full so that there was a 'layer effect' going on on the floor of the vessel and when it heated there was a pool big enough to bloody swim in.
Of course it hit me so hard I nearly jumped out the fucking window! Full of Pure energy (the other way you can tell I'm fried - I become the fountain of amphetamine-laced wit) I rounded up Liam and the dogs and we had a power walk around Onehunga Bay, where I bored Liam babbling on at seven-hundred miles per hour about how I didn't think it was fair the government bringing drug-testing on the roads to New Zealand because some drugs ('methamphetamine, just for example....') make you a better driver.
A big French mastiff, with a set of balls like brass knockers, came over to play with Cullen and Lola and it stopped to sniff Liam then proceded to pee all down his leg. I was beside myself!
Liam laughed awkwardly (well, pseudo-laughed) then dragged me off home, insisting that he drive because over his dead body was he being caught being driven by someone so 'obviously' high on P. I suppose I was hopping like the Energizer Bunny and laughing like Spongebob Squarepants.
Goddamn I'm barbecued - all aboard...I'm going off the rails on a crazy boat! (Well at least I'm not shooting it at the moment!)
I spent the rest of that afternoon (and evening) watching Outrageous Fortune, chain-smoking, talking to inanimate objects and dogs and anything that would listen. I wrote a letter to Charlie, which I'll send off with a stash of ice, speed, weed, codeine, coke and Ritalin, for a belated Christmas drug binge.
I'm nice but I have ulterior motives - I'm pleading to be sent some of his oxy and Dilaudid. I'm just beginning to find morphine isn't exactly working again and I don't want to have to go back to 'opioids I have to inject' (ie. homebake and heroin). Fuck I'm turning back into a junkie.
Hey, stop thinking like this, Lydia, you're high on crack - who cares what happens in the future...just enjoy the fucking P while it lasts!
NB. Liam is my younger, long-suffering brother, who did 'all the right things' in life.
Cullen and Lola were the dogs we had at that time (we still have Lola, the pitbull/bulldog/labrador/mastiff, but Cullen, the labrador, had to move on, as he kept escaping out of our property!)
Charlie is an alter-ego for a druggie penpal I had at the time, living in the States (we didn't hav oxy over here back then - we still dont hav dillys
)....and yes we did send drugs to each other with our letters....I won't go into how we managed it but it was pretty dangerous of us!
