You would not BELIEVE this motherfucking SURREAL day I've had.....hell I almost don't believe it, then again, notice I said ALMOST? That's for the same reason you'll guessed folks. That the life of yours truly, one Tanya T has never been anything BUT a very vivid Pulp Non Fiction type of story, unlike my very famous, talented, but not even close to livin on the edge as his very real half sister. Yours truly fuckin doesn't need a fiction writer with a bizarre mind to make shit up because my life is so off the wall it doesn't NEED to be made up, and trust me to your last dollar, it is not.
Before we go any further, how do you say "fuck you" in LA? Trust me, haha. That's exactly the theme that sums up this whole insanity in 2 words. "Fuck you" and "trust me." I gotta see the funny side of shit though, and truthfully what made that possible was the fact my very dear friend and fiance Erik sent me one hell of a motherfucker of a trip! And then some. I don't think I have the time to write like I want, but cut to the chase, I spent $70 for a quantity of some good shit right.....I got a motherfuckin dime, haha, joke's on me. The reason is that unlike 2 1/2 yrs ago, so much has changed. I NO longer have direct connects. I have junkies and tweekers for middle men and I got fucked up the ass dry w/o lubrication. Still, I'm a long time veteran junkie, I know how it goes.
I may or may not have been hussled and played like the fool by my friends but even so with well meaning hearts. Dunno if they got fucked, or they're fuckin me, it don't even matter. I took a 1/4 of the trip paper from Kupid, which according to him was 2 hits. Damn good thing I asked a few blogs ago, otherwise I would have done 1/2 of the tab doing 4 hits. Erik, did not lie. That shit knocked me way hard and fast on my ass and then some. I still need to kick back and trip alone in order to get the info I want from these trips, but you know what? I hold nothing against what anyone of them may or may not have done. I was able to laugh about it and say, "Well, at this rate, I guess you guys r gonna cure me of my tweek habit REAL quick." It's true. I spent $70 I don't have to get high, got a dime, shot my shit, at least it worked.
The trip made me see life in it's proper perspective though believe it or not. That's the thing. This trip showed me that I tend to let stupid bullshit make me angry and that there really is no need. It's harder to see and understand that perspective, especially when 12 days sober off meth, wanting sleep 24/7, in spite of the painkillers I've been taking to help ease off the speed. I do know this, I was treated like royalty at Grand Junkie Central Inn for the day/night. "Ah Tanya need ice water? Tanya need cold cloth? Tanya want me to shoot her? Tanya want the fan on?" It was sweet in a way. "Tanya want these sunglasses?" They were the expensive kind, over $100, a pair. "Sure bout that? Really?" "Take them." I may or may not get compensated tomorrow or the next day. Not counting on it.
If it happens fine, if not, I won't have my panties in a wad over stupid bullshit, but damn that means I'll have to quit or find another direct source....Fuck it....don't really know....Had a fun day, went by fast. although I did TOO much acid, those 2 hits were fuckin mega tripn me over the top. I saw shitloads of pastel, bright colors when I'd shut my eyes and the image of whoever I was lookin at was burned into my vision in bright pastels. I told Linda also, that, "I feel as if I'm going into labor, that everytime people come and go in and out of this trip, they are contractions and I feel compelled to push." Linda said, "I know what you mean." "Do you? Did you have to suffer labor at all?" "Yes, 4 or 5 hrs," she said. When in serious pain, that is a long ass fuckin time.
Mom had 26 hrs of hard labor with me, poor thing, but they refused to do C section. And when I terminated a pregnancy back in 1990, it took 3 days to pass, I felt contractions, and it HURT like hell. I found out years later the Tarantino women all had to have C sections cause we're not built to pass a child. Mom was the same way, so I got a double damn dose, fuck. If I'd of had the kid, he'd probably been more brain damaged than I was at birth.....so it's just as well. Neurosurgeon told me I could only ever have C section, otherwise, my birth defect of hydrocephalus could rupture causing severe brain damage, coma, and death. I came into this world damaged goods, my head is my weakness, and had I tried to deliver a normal pregnancy back in 1991.....it would not have been good.
So I wonder in retrospect if these contractions I felt during this trip meant anything....Like deal with people, deal with human issues and expel them, or else I'll just have unresolved damage to try to heal in another life time....No thanks, it's easier to get as much pain and crap over with at once as possible. Still, when I'm not on acid, that doesn't FEEL easy at all. I just want the easy way out, to swallow a handfull of pain pills, park the car in some tight space, let the engine run, go to sleep, nice long slumber of oblivion sounds seductive.....except I know it's a lie. Life is never created, or destroyed, only changes the form it takes which is YOU however you spell it. There is no way out of life. Death is not an escape, although how I've sooo longed for it to be so many times.....
I've always been so much better at running from uncomfortable or painful shit I didn't know how to deal with, rather than take the more difficult way and face, deal, and resolve them. I've been a runner my entire life. I've read that a junkie is nothing more than an experienced escape artist.....In my case it's soooo true. So, for today, I don't have 2 worry about w/d's. Tomorrow? Who knows. I'll let it take care of itself. Half the battle of kicking is being able to accept the fact that there is no way around it, and that I will have to get through it, pain or no pain, fatigue or no fatigue. W/D's, the thought of them make me wail and moan for the fact I'm gonna hurt like hell being separated from the chemical suggestion of ecstasy and bliss. That's a hard damned lover to let go of....as if I lost a 25 year marriage....that's how I felt when I was separated from Mr. Prick for 2 and 1/2 years. The pain, the longing, how I miss him....
Before we go any further, how do you say "fuck you" in LA? Trust me, haha. That's exactly the theme that sums up this whole insanity in 2 words. "Fuck you" and "trust me." I gotta see the funny side of shit though, and truthfully what made that possible was the fact my very dear friend and fiance Erik sent me one hell of a motherfucker of a trip! And then some. I don't think I have the time to write like I want, but cut to the chase, I spent $70 for a quantity of some good shit right.....I got a motherfuckin dime, haha, joke's on me. The reason is that unlike 2 1/2 yrs ago, so much has changed. I NO longer have direct connects. I have junkies and tweekers for middle men and I got fucked up the ass dry w/o lubrication. Still, I'm a long time veteran junkie, I know how it goes.
I may or may not have been hussled and played like the fool by my friends but even so with well meaning hearts. Dunno if they got fucked, or they're fuckin me, it don't even matter. I took a 1/4 of the trip paper from Kupid, which according to him was 2 hits. Damn good thing I asked a few blogs ago, otherwise I would have done 1/2 of the tab doing 4 hits. Erik, did not lie. That shit knocked me way hard and fast on my ass and then some. I still need to kick back and trip alone in order to get the info I want from these trips, but you know what? I hold nothing against what anyone of them may or may not have done. I was able to laugh about it and say, "Well, at this rate, I guess you guys r gonna cure me of my tweek habit REAL quick." It's true. I spent $70 I don't have to get high, got a dime, shot my shit, at least it worked.
The trip made me see life in it's proper perspective though believe it or not. That's the thing. This trip showed me that I tend to let stupid bullshit make me angry and that there really is no need. It's harder to see and understand that perspective, especially when 12 days sober off meth, wanting sleep 24/7, in spite of the painkillers I've been taking to help ease off the speed. I do know this, I was treated like royalty at Grand Junkie Central Inn for the day/night. "Ah Tanya need ice water? Tanya need cold cloth? Tanya want me to shoot her? Tanya want the fan on?" It was sweet in a way. "Tanya want these sunglasses?" They were the expensive kind, over $100, a pair. "Sure bout that? Really?" "Take them." I may or may not get compensated tomorrow or the next day. Not counting on it.
If it happens fine, if not, I won't have my panties in a wad over stupid bullshit, but damn that means I'll have to quit or find another direct source....Fuck it....don't really know....Had a fun day, went by fast. although I did TOO much acid, those 2 hits were fuckin mega tripn me over the top. I saw shitloads of pastel, bright colors when I'd shut my eyes and the image of whoever I was lookin at was burned into my vision in bright pastels. I told Linda also, that, "I feel as if I'm going into labor, that everytime people come and go in and out of this trip, they are contractions and I feel compelled to push." Linda said, "I know what you mean." "Do you? Did you have to suffer labor at all?" "Yes, 4 or 5 hrs," she said. When in serious pain, that is a long ass fuckin time.
Mom had 26 hrs of hard labor with me, poor thing, but they refused to do C section. And when I terminated a pregnancy back in 1990, it took 3 days to pass, I felt contractions, and it HURT like hell. I found out years later the Tarantino women all had to have C sections cause we're not built to pass a child. Mom was the same way, so I got a double damn dose, fuck. If I'd of had the kid, he'd probably been more brain damaged than I was at birth.....so it's just as well. Neurosurgeon told me I could only ever have C section, otherwise, my birth defect of hydrocephalus could rupture causing severe brain damage, coma, and death. I came into this world damaged goods, my head is my weakness, and had I tried to deliver a normal pregnancy back in 1991.....it would not have been good.
So I wonder in retrospect if these contractions I felt during this trip meant anything....Like deal with people, deal with human issues and expel them, or else I'll just have unresolved damage to try to heal in another life time....No thanks, it's easier to get as much pain and crap over with at once as possible. Still, when I'm not on acid, that doesn't FEEL easy at all. I just want the easy way out, to swallow a handfull of pain pills, park the car in some tight space, let the engine run, go to sleep, nice long slumber of oblivion sounds seductive.....except I know it's a lie. Life is never created, or destroyed, only changes the form it takes which is YOU however you spell it. There is no way out of life. Death is not an escape, although how I've sooo longed for it to be so many times.....
I've always been so much better at running from uncomfortable or painful shit I didn't know how to deal with, rather than take the more difficult way and face, deal, and resolve them. I've been a runner my entire life. I've read that a junkie is nothing more than an experienced escape artist.....In my case it's soooo true. So, for today, I don't have 2 worry about w/d's. Tomorrow? Who knows. I'll let it take care of itself. Half the battle of kicking is being able to accept the fact that there is no way around it, and that I will have to get through it, pain or no pain, fatigue or no fatigue. W/D's, the thought of them make me wail and moan for the fact I'm gonna hurt like hell being separated from the chemical suggestion of ecstasy and bliss. That's a hard damned lover to let go of....as if I lost a 25 year marriage....that's how I felt when I was separated from Mr. Prick for 2 and 1/2 years. The pain, the longing, how I miss him....