I had a nightmare last night. In it Ma and I were in this very large house and I had a bedroom the size of a master bedroom. She thought I had kicked drugs, which I had, but this one guy that the Feds had been following came over with a bunch of meth and a pipe. It's weird cause in the dream I was smoking it which I didn't do when I was using, I always shot it. The guy whose name was Kenny informed me I was sucking too hard on the pipe, I wondered why I wasn't getting high, then I remembered that in order to smoke properly, you have to let it melt into a puddle then inhale, w/o blackening the pipe. I was just about to do so, when I heard my Ma approaching. "Quick, hide it!," I yelled.
Ma let in 6 "friends" that were dope fiends, not the kind I let come to my house and hang out with in my active addiction though. They were the kind I always saw at drug houses that ripped everyone and their brother off every chance they got. Ma didn't know that though and once they were in my room, I went ballistic. I yelled and screamed at them to get the fuck out of my house. One of them was so fucked up she was noddin, but these people were not my friends. I was on probation and the last thing I wanted were fucking thieves and the lowest type of thieving sleazeballs in my house. I yelled so loud I wondered how Ma could not have heard me, but they wouldn't leave, so I had to physically shove them out the door.
I grabbed the handful of needles and dope that this chick had ripped off from me out of her hand, who was nodding out, feeling contempt. I hated fucking thieves. The fiends were all fucked up, probably couldn't drive home safely, but I didn't care. I wanted them out of my house now. I went back to my room, Kenny was still there. I reached for the glass pipe full of dope. Kenny had hidden it under the pillow thinking I wanted to smoke some more, but what I really wanted to do was get rid of that infernal pipe, smash it to pieces and flush it and the dope. I grabbed it, but then something else got my attention. Next door was crawling with undercover cops. They were looking into my room. They were in my backyard ready to bust me. "Fuck!" No way to ditch the pipe. No way to get rid of Kenny without them seeing me.
I was going back to the Big House. "NO!" This was gonna kill Ma. This was killing me. I was full of despair and panic. I started screaming, then I woke up. Holy shit! I looked up at the clock on the wall lit by the dim moonlight. It was 3:30am. Fucking hell that nightmare felt so real. I could hear this band called Disturbed screaming the song, "Down With The Sickness," as the scene from my nightmare faded and the fuzzy haze where I was passing from the dream world into the waking world. The pit of sickness felt in my stomach, the fear of losing my home, the sickening impending doom felt all too familiar in my using days, came back full force and blasted me like a tidal wave. After I came out of it, it felt like the rancid aftertaste of bile in one's mounth after up chucking. Sweet Jesus. Awake now in the waking world. The room dark and still, the only sound being the whirling fan on the ceiling. The tendrils of addiction, like Freddy Kruger not far away waiting to slice me back....
Ma let in 6 "friends" that were dope fiends, not the kind I let come to my house and hang out with in my active addiction though. They were the kind I always saw at drug houses that ripped everyone and their brother off every chance they got. Ma didn't know that though and once they were in my room, I went ballistic. I yelled and screamed at them to get the fuck out of my house. One of them was so fucked up she was noddin, but these people were not my friends. I was on probation and the last thing I wanted were fucking thieves and the lowest type of thieving sleazeballs in my house. I yelled so loud I wondered how Ma could not have heard me, but they wouldn't leave, so I had to physically shove them out the door.
I grabbed the handful of needles and dope that this chick had ripped off from me out of her hand, who was nodding out, feeling contempt. I hated fucking thieves. The fiends were all fucked up, probably couldn't drive home safely, but I didn't care. I wanted them out of my house now. I went back to my room, Kenny was still there. I reached for the glass pipe full of dope. Kenny had hidden it under the pillow thinking I wanted to smoke some more, but what I really wanted to do was get rid of that infernal pipe, smash it to pieces and flush it and the dope. I grabbed it, but then something else got my attention. Next door was crawling with undercover cops. They were looking into my room. They were in my backyard ready to bust me. "Fuck!" No way to ditch the pipe. No way to get rid of Kenny without them seeing me.
I was going back to the Big House. "NO!" This was gonna kill Ma. This was killing me. I was full of despair and panic. I started screaming, then I woke up. Holy shit! I looked up at the clock on the wall lit by the dim moonlight. It was 3:30am. Fucking hell that nightmare felt so real. I could hear this band called Disturbed screaming the song, "Down With The Sickness," as the scene from my nightmare faded and the fuzzy haze where I was passing from the dream world into the waking world. The pit of sickness felt in my stomach, the fear of losing my home, the sickening impending doom felt all too familiar in my using days, came back full force and blasted me like a tidal wave. After I came out of it, it felt like the rancid aftertaste of bile in one's mounth after up chucking. Sweet Jesus. Awake now in the waking world. The room dark and still, the only sound being the whirling fan on the ceiling. The tendrils of addiction, like Freddy Kruger not far away waiting to slice me back....
