Man-o-man, I am fuuuuuuuuuucked right up. Rationalized clearing myself earlier in turning that nagging pharm craving into a narcotic extravaganza. Dimly, somewhere behind my surface thoughts is an as-of-now unknown quantity of guilt for staying on this merry-go-round, all while riding the snail.
But! I started w/ a shot of smack and did a few hours before I hit another small one, since I knew the amphetamines were rapidly approaching my self-fashioned magical day. And when they arrived, they really arrived - smoked more bowels than I'd care to recall. It got me through hanging out w/ my friends - a junkie couple, as well as an acquaintance named Dirt, who forces one to reevaluate the parameters of stench and humanity - and then through a memorial show for my best friend who committed suicide in February. After all the weirdness, and admittedly way too much meth, I got home, smoked the most paranoia-tinged bristly cigarette I ever 'ad and finally fixed myself a dose of smack worth neutralizing all the speed.
Obviously I am still speeding; a shame b/c resting for mother's day would be great. I guess I'll channel this unholy bounce into writing nice words for my mother. (Sorry for the life story).