Its finally over. No more reason to be jolly. Soon it will be 2009, and soon I will be 26 years old. Feb. 2nd is my birthday. Yes, I was born on Groundhogs day, and yes, I've seen the movie. I like the movie alot, as Bill Murrary is one of my Favoirite comedic actors.
Christmas eve I spent in a mall with my father rushing around buying my mother and father gifts. I got my dad a watch from Fossil, my mom a necklace that says, " Live, Laugh, Love". She's obsesed with that mado. You know what I mean, dance like nobody is watching, love like you've never been hurt, work like you don't need the money. We've all herd it, and yes life should be lived like that. I try to, but since what I love everyone...including the goverment says I'm not allowed to be with. Without my love, I can't dance, and I definatly cannot work. Well I do work, on my book, and too me that is my job, career. I am a writer. A shitty writer, but no the less a writer. Whenever someone asks me what my job is or where I work, I used to struggle with how to answer them. Oh yeah, well I'm an unemployed Heroin addict. Now I just answer I'm an unpublished writer. I'm an artist whom very few, or more likely no one appreciates. LOL!
Now I love it when people ask me what I do. I like to see the shock in their eyes. Sort of like, "yeah unpublished, and you'll stay that way. Fool."
Wow, did I get distracted. This post was suppose to be about what my Xmas was like, but instead, I went of on a pointless tangit about my occupaiton or lack there of.
Anyway, my dad got my mom a digital camera, and my mom got my dad a very expensive shirt and shorts. I'd be mortified to wear something that cost so much. In my youth I was concerned with the brand of my clothes, but after 8th grade and when I began to read poetry, and write shitty poetry, I stopped caring about those labels. My dad tho, he still cares. He likes to go out to the bar, and ooze money. He wants his clothes and watch to scream, "I'm rich, come talk to me beautiful young women." I cringe thinking about my father at a bar hitting on young women.
They say women marry men like their fathers. Gawd no, I would not be able to stand someone like my dad. Every guy I have ever dated was the exact oppisate of my dad. Don't me wrong my dad is the best dad, or he tries his best, and he's funny, but he's way to caught up in the frivolus things in life.
Christmas morning, I brought out all the gifts, and gave my mom and dad both of their gifts. Then I got mine... A 300 gift card to Old Navy, and a bike. I was very excited about the bike. I've been wanting one for sometime. Getting around Hononlulu is much easier on a bike. My bike has pedal breaks, like when you were a kid and on your first bike, to hit the brakes you pedal backwards. That will take a bit of getting used to. I got a basket for the bike too, so Eleanor Rigby can ride with me. Just call me Dorothy. Get it...Wizard of OZ. Fuck OZ, I'd stay in the poppy field. Again I digress.
So this morning I woke up, and only had one Xanx bar left. OMG, I had to go downtown and get more. So thats what I did. I took my parents car to the methadone clinic by myself, and stopped in China Town to pick up, but of course no-one was holding. I lucked out and came across some guy who had five bars, and I bought that to tide me over till tomorrow. I was looking to make a big buy, so I don't have to go down their every other fucking day. I have money left over from Xmas gift buying. MY welfare is cut off for the month of January, so I'm gonna be hurting for pills. Which is going to suck. Why did I bother to get a second habit. I'm such an idiot. I'd rather get off the methadone, and use Heroin everyday, I want to feel that warm childlike feeling again. The Xanax doesn't do that for me. The Xanax is just my obsession with pills, and my need to take something to make myself feel like I have some control over my addiction. When I get off the methadone, I'm sure getting of the Xanax will be easy enough.
This blog is so fucking dumb.