I'm in my bedroom. Sometimes I masterbate in here. Sometimes I cry in here. Sometimes, plot my suicide in here. Sometimes, I use drugs in here.
Right now, I'm in my room, because my father is outside sleeping on the couch. He got home a hour or so ago. He was gone all day watching football at the bar.
All day I was fucked up on methadone and benzos.
I'm seriously considering getting off the methadone so I can use Heroin again, and feel that lovely feeling. I don't get that feeling from methadone and benzos. Not since I've been at a dose that blocks the effects of Opiates.
I'm scared tho. When we move to England, I wont be on methadone. One of my fathers stipualations for me going with. I think good, I can use European H. Never done that before. Maybe the shit that comes straight from Afaganistan will be in England. I hope so. Maybe I'll just stay there. Let my mom and dad move back to the states themselves, and I'll stay in England. I'm pretty sure I'm gonna do that.
I'm gonna pound out the rest of this book I'm writing, and finish it. Then I'm gonna ween myself off the done, then fly over to Europe. There I will just use until I'm dead. I might write one more book.