Today was a strange day, as my days go. It all begun so promisingly and went south so quickly.
Life lately has been like that for me. It seems a little bit strange and disconnected. I'm living in this twilight in a corner of London and nothing is a reality to me.
I lacked a routine for maybe five years, but the past nine or ten months are abysmal. Apart from leaving the country on various trips, I have barely interacted with any people other than my housemates,blow-ins and various shopkeepers, mechanics, hookers, dealers and postmen.
I've been drinking a truly inspiring amount of alcohol, upward of 80 units a week consistently, sometimes way more. I smoked about three grams of skunk per day,every day.
My phone is old, and it no longer makes any kind of sound to indicate a call or a message, so I generally pick up calls after the fact. I switch it off a lot too. I don't answer e-mails on time, if I answer.
This is no good. This isn't my life.
I shall not become a skinny forty-something booze-hound with burst veins up and down my bastard nose, letching after young women and nursing my fucking sense of angst. Fuck that for a laugh.
This is no sudden revelation though. Been here before. This fucking town, these fucking people, so many of these people. Millions upon millions upon millions all screaming and wailing for their cut, their share, for their story to be told somewhere, sometime.
I cannot live in London a sober man. I've been away frequently this year, and last. I have travelled to a good many of the Western European countries for weeks here and weeks there. Took weed with me, had money. Guess what? I had one or none almost every night I was out of town.
So I stopped, I'm not drinking, as of nine days back. Been exercising and eating well. Mood is volatile as hell. Veer between feeling volatile as hell and fragile as eggshell. Still anti-social as fuck. Though that's probably the weed.
Smoked the last of it at 3am. The Final Joint. Shit, how many times have I said that in my lifetime?, 4pm this evening two friends and I went and bought more.
Just on the way, a man drove his car into the right rear wheel of mine as I was making a right turn. I have fat rims on the back, so my car was not damaged, but his bumper was ripped open.
As my car was undamaged and he was in the wrong,I was letting it go, but the fucker wanted details of my insurance company. I smelt a scam and said that we better call the police. Then he got in his car and sped off around the block, so my friend walked after him and we drove the other way.
Then it got stranger as a bunch of Somalian (pirates??) attacked the two guys who had been in my car as they walked past the same car parked outside a shop. They only threw one, and my friends didn't throw back, to their benefit I guess.
Then car guy and another guy and his nephews showed up to where I was, blissfully unaware, in my car around the corner. It was cool after that though. We established that liability was not mine and everybody backed off with dignity intact.
Following that incident I came home and proceeded to get high as fuck. But this is definitely my last bag of weed O.K?
Life lately has been like that for me. It seems a little bit strange and disconnected. I'm living in this twilight in a corner of London and nothing is a reality to me.
I lacked a routine for maybe five years, but the past nine or ten months are abysmal. Apart from leaving the country on various trips, I have barely interacted with any people other than my housemates,blow-ins and various shopkeepers, mechanics, hookers, dealers and postmen.
I've been drinking a truly inspiring amount of alcohol, upward of 80 units a week consistently, sometimes way more. I smoked about three grams of skunk per day,every day.
My phone is old, and it no longer makes any kind of sound to indicate a call or a message, so I generally pick up calls after the fact. I switch it off a lot too. I don't answer e-mails on time, if I answer.
This is no good. This isn't my life.
I shall not become a skinny forty-something booze-hound with burst veins up and down my bastard nose, letching after young women and nursing my fucking sense of angst. Fuck that for a laugh.
This is no sudden revelation though. Been here before. This fucking town, these fucking people, so many of these people. Millions upon millions upon millions all screaming and wailing for their cut, their share, for their story to be told somewhere, sometime.
I cannot live in London a sober man. I've been away frequently this year, and last. I have travelled to a good many of the Western European countries for weeks here and weeks there. Took weed with me, had money. Guess what? I had one or none almost every night I was out of town.
So I stopped, I'm not drinking, as of nine days back. Been exercising and eating well. Mood is volatile as hell. Veer between feeling volatile as hell and fragile as eggshell. Still anti-social as fuck. Though that's probably the weed.
Smoked the last of it at 3am. The Final Joint. Shit, how many times have I said that in my lifetime?, 4pm this evening two friends and I went and bought more.
Just on the way, a man drove his car into the right rear wheel of mine as I was making a right turn. I have fat rims on the back, so my car was not damaged, but his bumper was ripped open.
As my car was undamaged and he was in the wrong,I was letting it go, but the fucker wanted details of my insurance company. I smelt a scam and said that we better call the police. Then he got in his car and sped off around the block, so my friend walked after him and we drove the other way.
Then it got stranger as a bunch of Somalian (pirates??) attacked the two guys who had been in my car as they walked past the same car parked outside a shop. They only threw one, and my friends didn't throw back, to their benefit I guess.
Then car guy and another guy and his nephews showed up to where I was, blissfully unaware, in my car around the corner. It was cool after that though. We established that liability was not mine and everybody backed off with dignity intact.
Following that incident I came home and proceeded to get high as fuck. But this is definitely my last bag of weed O.K?
