Tuesday, November 30, 2010


Going from junk high to junk sickness is perhaps a little like transforming from a plant into an animal. Plants don't need emotions, pain, or sex.  When your high you don't feel any of those things. Getting off junk your turning back into an animal, which needs emotions, pain, and sex. So the cells are shifting or dying when your going thru withdrawals. When a junky is full of junk or on the nod they look dead and feel nothing, what I imagine a plant feels like, or rather lacks feeling. A non Junky looks alive, does and feels things. So getting high every day is like dying and coming back to life a little bit until you take your next shot.
That's what I'm thinking death is like. Its like being high. That is if there is a soul or whatever you'd like to call it. If there is no soul then being dead is like being in a dreamless sleep.
I'm not fixated on death today, I just was reading Junky and he gave me this theory. He has science behind his theory, unlike mine.
Actually I'm feeling manic lately. My pep pills are working better now that I'm off the Methadone, and I drink a lot of coffee. Grind my teeth.
I really fucking hate the cold weather, I want to be in Hawaii, and should be. If my mom didn't like where she lived so much we would be in Hawaii in a week. December they were suppose to move .
I can't blog much, I have to go to Shopko to pick up my Suboxone.
I wonder what you think being dead is like, and if its comparable to being high? I  imagine religious people will say heaven and hell, depending how you lived your life. Since I lived mine addicted to a substance hells fire shall burn eternal of my soul. I was saved, remember, at curves by a lady who thought I needed to be saved right at that moment. I don't know if that's in this blog, or on my old myspace blog.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

Details of my date with Sean

Wednesday morning I get home from Oshkosh around 11am. I'm not feeling very good, I had a few drinks the other night with Jess, and I slept in Jess' bed where I didn't get a great nights sleep. So I'm not caught up on my sleep. Jess really wanted to cum on my face so I let him after giving him a blow job, so I had a little cum on my cheek. I take off the outfit that I'm wearing, and put on sweatpants. I still have not herd anything from Sean that has confirmed that we have a date tonight. I think perhaps he has decided he doesn't like me. I would feel slighted, but at least I could catch up on my sleep.
After I get some comfy clothes on, I wash my face, and lay down on the couch and watch TCM old movies. I drift in and out of sleep. Every time I get an email, I wake up and look at it checking to see if its Sean. I'm not sure if I want to go out with this guy. As we all know I like Jess, but Jess doesn't like me. Sean seems to like me. Eventually, around three I get a text from Sean asking if we are still meeting tonight. I make the decision that I will meet him. He knows that I have a guy that I'm still having sex with, but its just sex. So I tell him to meet me at a local coffee shop at 7pm. He has to drive up from Menasha.
I like what I wore last night, so I through that in the wash, and I jump in the shower. When I'm done I get out, and blow dry my hair straight, and then have my mom straighten it. I dry my clothes. Put on Makeup. I go outside for a cigarette, and its cold and dark out. Under the street lamp I can see its snowing out. Its the first snowfall of the season. I text Sean and tell him its snowing, and tell him if he doesn't want to drive in the snow he doesn't have to come if he doesn't want to. He text back, that he doesn't mind driving in the snow. I'm still really tired, and was sort of hoping that he would have backed out.
I don't have a car to get to the coffee shop, but the coffee shop is just a few blocks away, but since its snowing out, I call a cab. I leave early so I can be there first. I bring my first draft of my book, because he really wanted to read it. He is a stand up comic, and writes himself. He writes more fiction than I do. Don't get me wrong my books are somewhat fiction. Loosely based fiction.
I'm somewhat nervous to meet Sean, even though I talked on the phone with him for an hour a few days ago, and we texted a number of times. I get to see what he looks like. He gets to see what I look like.
I get to the coffee shop, and order a coffee. I drink a decaf, because I want to be able to sleep tonight, and I get a water, because I'm sort of nauseous from drinking the night before. I have to think of a good story to tell him about what happened to me the night before. So I make up some lie. Why I did this I do not know. Conversation starter? The lie I make up is has some truth to it. On Monday there was a stabbing at a bar a block from where I live, and I happened to at a bar one door down, so I lied and said I was at the bar where the stabbing happened. So I have my conversation starter set up.
He text me and tells me he's gonna be about forty five minutes late. The roads are bad, and he had to cash his check at Wal Mart because he woke up so late today.
So I'm really early for the date. I start to read the first draft of my book. All of which I have memorized by now. There is a really hot guy who works at the coffee shop, so I watch him and I watch the other customers, who think I'm a lame chick who gets dressed up to go to a coffee shop and sit by herself without her laptop. I entertain myself for the time being. He text me and updates me on his progress on getting to the coffee shop.
He text me, "I'm here", and I see his car pull up. I see him get out. His jacket is too big. I can't see his face. He walks into the coffee shop, and sees me right away. I had picked out a table right in the front so he would notice me right away. He's seen my picture on the website, and the pictures look just like me. At least I think. I can tell he's nervous. I smile at him and let him know there is nothing to be nervous about. I'm not going to cast him off, or be cruel. My first impression is he is cute, although I can tell that he's 35 more than I can tell that Jess is 35. I can tell Sean trys harder to be cool than Jess does. The harder you try to be cool, the less cool you are. Once you've given up on being cool, and have become a loser you've become cool in my book. Still he's sweet. We keep up a good conversation. He tells me about his comedy. He might be getting a new job.
Then he shows me these four photos of his mom, dad, and himself as a baby. They are cute photos, from like photo booth in black and white. He says he's thinking about getting them laminated, and I tell him I have a laminating machine at my house and I could do that for him. By this time we have been at the coffee shop for almost an hour and half. They are closing up. We go outside and walk down the block and smoke. We walk back on the other side of the road, so we can get into Sean's car. He's going to give me a ride home, and I'm going to laminate those photos for him.
I get into his car, and its full of empty Redbulls, soda cans, some bumper stickers on the inside, along with a Buddha, and some other dashboard toy. He drives across the bridge to my parents apartment where I live. My mom is asleep, my dad is at the bar. So I bring him up the elevator, and into the apartment. Our dining room table is set for Thanksgiving dinner and everything is all formal. I explain to him that its not always like this. Its only like this because people are coming over tomorrow. I show him my room. I get out the laminating paper, and I get out the laminater. I accidentally turn the laminater on cold, and I put his pictures in there and they get stuck. I can't figure out how to get them out. I'm worried that I ruined them. His treasured family photos. He tells me not to worry about it. He is sure I'll get them out. I tell him my dad can get them out. Which I figure my dad can.
We decide to go out on the porch for a cigarette. It just so happens that our neighbors have their shades wide open, lights on bright, they are directly across from us. Me and my dad are no stranger to seeing her naked in the morning and at night, but this night she is with her boyfriend, and its his sexual organ(penis) that is naked, and it is her head bobbing up and down. I imagine he wants to cum in her face too. I watch with enthusiasm, and so does Sean. He is surprised at how excited I am to be seeing this live adult show in front our eyes. Who wouldn't be I ask? He says, "a lot of girls. You'd be surprised." Every girl I know would want to watch this. I think of my friends, and hell yes, they would watch this. He must be swimming around in the wrong pool.  We smoke our cigarettes, and he does the voice of the guy, and what he thinks the guy is saying. I do the voice of the girl and what I think the girl is saying. Then the blow job is done, and it looks like they are getting ready to come outside to walk their dog or something. Their dog was pacing back and forth the whole time she was going down on him. Looked like a little bestiality. We watch as they try on different jackets, go to the bathroom, and bedroom. Finally they come out and get in their car and drive off. As they drive off  Sean and I throw our cigarettes out, and walk back inside, nothing more to see. By this time I'm really tired. Its about 11pm. I offer him to sit and watch TV with me. He thinks about it, and says no, uses the excuse that I look tired. I walk him to front hall, and its time to say good night, which is always awkward, so I say something about how awkward it is, and we just hug.
I go back up stairs and end up getting his pictures out easily with a butter knife, but brake the laminater. I think the reason I was so unwilling to be close to Sean is because I was just with Jess, and I can't do that. Physically or emotionally. I maybe a slut, but not that kind of slut.

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Carlos stop that.

Jess has that pzazz, that chemistry you can't bottle. He makes friends fast.  He's the same height as me, maybe a few inches taller than me. He keeps his hair short, with a longer part in front so he can do a little do. He is growing a beard, and a mustache. He has devilish eyes, and he is a mans man.
I went over to his house on Tuesday for another round of casual sex. Found out that he is now the lead singer in a band. He just ends up in cool things like that. He's got a good voice, and since it is a rock, metal band he will fit in perfectly. Him being in a band is a good thing for his love life, girls love guys in a band. He will have groupies in no time. Probably before his first show. He maybe thirty five and live with his dad, but its only because he's going through a divorce, he's saving up money to move out and in with his friends. He maybe thirty five, but he looks like he's twenty five. He has a grown up side to him, and a side that isn't grown up at all.
Seriously I don't know why he wastes his time with me. He could do so much better. I think he knows that, and that's why he keeps me as a casual sex partner.

So on Wednesday I went out on a date with the guy I met on Okcupid.com He was funny, and sweet. I invited him back to the apartment to laminate four photos he had of himself and his parents when he was a baby. They are the cute photos. I ended up braking the laminating machine, and having to go to Kinko's to laminate them. When we went out to have a cigarette we ended up watching my neighbor give her boyfriend a blowjob. Sean, that's his name. Sean was amazed that I was as excited to watch this girl go down on her boyfriend as he was. Of course I was, how often do you get to see your neighbors leave their blinds wide open, and lights all on, while she kneels down, and he unzips his pants, pulls out his wenis, and she blows him. The dog couldn't seem to stay away from them and was circling around as she went down on his cock. After she was done they got ready to leave, then they came outside where we were standing smoking cigarettes, watching them. When they got into there car and left we put out our smokes and went inside. No more show. He told me this was the best date he ever had. He would like to take me on the road with him when he goes traveling for his stand up.

So now I have a guy who likes me, and a guy who doesn't, but uses me for sex. I'm reading Junky again. I can never get enough of that book. That book and Heavier than Heaven the bio of  Kurt Cobain.Who do I like more. Jess right now, because I know him better, but if I gave Sean a chance. Neither of them are good matches for me astrological. I'm an Aquarius, and Jess is a Virgo, and Sean is Capricorn. Virgo is better than Capricorn for me. Still none of them are great. I need a Libra, or Gemini, Sagittarius, Aries, Aquarius are the signs I should be looking for.

I got high today, but not on junk.  

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Junk is a way of life.

The house is quiet, Eleanor is on the couch curled up in the soft green blanket on the end of the couch that I myself was just wrapped up in watching TCM. Now I'm listening to Radiohead softly on the CD player as write. My parents have gone to the grocery store. Outside its 28 degrees with a windchill in the teens. Smoking a cigarette is a hassle.

Right now I'm missing my ex Pete. I think maybe he was my soul mate. He put up with everything I doled out. He knew the real me, and loved me. We used to listen to this CD and have sex. Of course I was high, and nothing seemed like there could be wrong with the world. Christmas lights hung around our window even though it was three months past Christmas. I remember I was as rail thin, I felt sexy, I was high, I had heroin and syringes laying around on the coffee table. We would have sex, and I would tie off, and cook up a shot and push off right after naked and comfortable with my body. Chain smoking we would talk of what we were writing about in our notebooks. I always admired his writing. He had a great talent for poetry, but he wouldn't read my notebooks. He'd rather we talk about his writings. I was all right with that, because I thought him to be such a supiour writer than I. I was embarrassed at my efforts at poetry. I look back on those notebooks and those poems are some good. Mostly centered around junk, like ode to opiates. Opiate cat tails. Take me to places I will never know then just take me home.

Perhaps it wasn't Pete who was the love of my life, but Heroin itself. Heroin and I would take long walks that seemed to last forever. Just me and my lovely emotionless thoughts. The world at my feet. Words at the tip of my tongue falling out and when I made it home from my pen onto the page. Like smoke rings from my cigarette smoke. So easy just little help with some chemicals. No spinning in place. Spinning in place like I am now. Moments of clarity when I wasn't too high. No computer to write on, no that would have been pawned as soon as we had received it. Just 80cent note books and dollar pens.

The house never seemed to get a mess. There was always a glass  of water on the coffee table for me to get water for my Heroin, and to wash my syringe. A candle to boil down the concoction. I always wore a belt and had shoe laces hanging on a wall where a nail protruded. A tourniquet in my bag of works. Always something to tie me off with. I preferred the shoe laces if I was shooting in my hand, the belt for the inside of my elbow, the tourniquet for my feet. The biggest mess was made by used fits. We didn't have enough used laundry detergent bottles to throw them away in and bring them to the needle exchange. So we used an old empty suite case. There were thousands of syringes in that suite case. We would go through the garbage and look for empty laundry detergent bottles to bring to the needle exchange. Plus we had that little bio hazards box for dirty needles that the exchange gave us, but that held nothing.

I remember one time my dealer was out of heroin and pills, and I was going to be going sick for a week. He told me to get on the Methadone clinic. At the time the thought of it was outrageous to me. Methadone. Ha. Instead I checked myself into a detox for that week, and then as soon as I got out my tolerance was lower and my dealer had new gear.

I have so many memories of Heroin, with and without Pete. I always went and got the dope. Pete may have paid for it sometimes, but I took the risks. That's why I doled out what he got, and that's why he never got as much as me. Which is why he never got strung out like I did. He had a chip. Junk became a way of life for me.

Monday, November 22, 2010

writers block

I'm having a bad week. I'm suicidal. The thought of a gun to the head is relaxing. I can't write, even on this blog it takes an extra effort to write. Even the thought of going to see Jess tomorrow doesn't get me excited. I sit at the house working on the book, and nothing comes out good enough or even at all. I try to read and become even more depressed. I listen to music and cry because the singer killed himself. Not just Kurt Cobain. I watch stand up comedy and cry because the stand up comic died from OD of Heroin. Why can't I just OD. Days and nights are boring me to death. My friends are all far away. I'm getting the blues listening to Lead Belly.

This switch to Suboxone didn't make me cycle, it just through me into a deep dark depression. Not even a mania to enjoy first. The one upside to being bi polar and I miss out on that. Sure I might have a date that I met on the Internet, but who knows he might be a crazy serial killer. He's a stand up comic. He travels all the time, so I wouldn't be able to see him that much anyway. He has a job, but he losing it and will be moving back to Janesville, which is far away. So he has a car which means he can come visit me, but where...at my parents house. Yeah sex will be so much fun while my parents sit in the next room knowing whats going on in there.

I need Heroin to live. At least Methadone, but Methadone made me fat. I have to remind myself that I'm going through all this to loose weight. Beauty is pain. Vanity is hellish. I'm doing all this to get a man to fall in love with. Why do men have to be such assholes an be such visual animals. I hate being ugly and fat. I hate myself and want to die.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Porno blog. Fucking and sucking..

I'm sitting naked in a small messy, dimly lit room. Jess is sitting next to me rolling a joint wearing boxers. We just got done having sex. He's telling me about why his last romance fizzled out. He tells me it was because he met her on a dating web site and she just had a head shot, she put her body size as stocky. They had a good thing going over the phone, but then she came up to visit him and he said she was built like a line backer. While he's telling me this, I think to myself my body isn't the best, but maybe he likes that I have soft curves, and big boobs. Still I feel uncomfortable about my body as he talks about hers. I wish I had a perfectly fit body. I sit on Jess' bed and chain smoke, we listen to Eagles of death Meal.  I ask him what drew him to her her. He say her picture. An a honest answer from a man. Men are visual  animals. I wonder to myself why he still wont even consider being in a relationship with me .  It seems the more he pulls away the more I want him to come closer.  Girls always want what they can't have.  Hint to men. Its all about the chase.

I lay back on the bed and start to play with my nipples. Just as a nervous habit. Jess notices. I see him look once, then look back a second time. Then he comes crawling towards me. He can't resist he wants to touch my breasts. He puts his lips on my nipples and nibbles. He goes back and forth from one to the other. Then he kisses me deeply. He takes off his boxers and enters me. We fuck again.

When we are done, we decide to get dressed and go to the gas station and pick up some beer. So we go to the gas station, and I pay, because I just got a big winning at the casino. We drive back to his place and drink in his room. We watch the History channel. We take our clothes off again because its hot in his room. So we sit and drink . He gets a phone call, and I go to the bathroom. I come back to his room and he tells me his friend is coming over to play magic with him. I'm welcome to stay, but I tell him I have to be gone by ten. I say I'll sit and wait to see what this kid looks like. We have sex one more time, and get dressed. We go down to the garage. I get bored waiting to see this kid, and I leave. He kisses me goodbye. We both know this is just sex. Although I do get attached again a little bit. I remind myself he doesn't want me. He wants my sex.

I drive home all the way from Oshkosh thinking about what just happened. Jess had banished me from his life for three months,and now he lets me back in for a booty call. He pretends like he never broke my heart. I only have myself to blame for getting hurt in the situation.

Now I have found someone online, and I have one last booty call with Jess this week. I haven't met the guy I'm suppose call today at 3 and set up a date with yet, so I don't know if I like him better than Jess. I do know that I like Jess' cock, and his sex a lot. I like everything about Jess, even the fact that I can't have him. It turns me on. I can't resist this booty call.

Saturday, November 20, 2010

were going to dumb now dumbie

Today is cold and gray here in the state of Wisconsin, city of Green Bay. Going outside for a cigarette is not even enjoyable. I want to enjoy my  vice. I love smoking, it occupies my fingers, mouth, mind, time. Just to have a smoke I have to bundle up like I'm going snowmobiling without the helmet. I so wished I were in Hawaii at this moment. I wouldn't even be awake yet. It would only  be 5am. I would have heroin to look forward to when I woke up.

This morning I woke up thinking about Jess. I know I have a new suitor, but like always I want what I can't have. Plus who knows if this guy I met online will like me when he meets me. I know that I like Jess, I know that  I love to fuck him. If only I were prettier, smarter, funnier, had a better attitude, were thinner, were anything but myself. If I were a model with big tits(I have big tits), but not the body to complement them, I would have many suitors. I could date Michale Pitt and fuck him like an animal. Just the thought makes me want to masturbate. Sorry Gledwood my King.

Watch neither of these guys will want anything to do with me in a week. Jess did promise to be my booty call until he found someone he can date. For whatever reason knowing there is another guy out there that might want to fuck me makes me only want to fuck Jess. I can't even explain how perfect Jess' cock is. Plus he's hot , and funny, and smart, and he doesn't want a relationship.

Enough about guys. Being off of Methadone is strange. I cry at the drop of a dime. I can smell and taste things better. Showers don't scare me anymore. I can  read a book all day again without falling asleep, I have no appetite, I want to walk around every where. My body is getting used to the pill, because my bowel movements are hard again, I still get sick to my stomach like I'm going to throw up in the evening. I've been watching a lot of the Nirvana Unplugged in New York DVD. God was Kurt attractive. Elliott Smith thought he was ugly, but in reality he was beautiful. Just not in the same way as Kurt. Sorry that was a bit off track, I just got up and put in the DVD.  Elliott's songs are soul touching. I wish I could have been his lover. Known him as a close friend at least. Why they, two beautiful people with the world at their feet off themselves I just don't understand. I can sympathize, because suicide is back on my mind. But I don't have millions of dollars, I don't have the love of my life... person or Heorin. Elliott I just finished his bio, and it seems he wasn't that big of a junky. He liked uppers a lot. I hope Jesus wanted both of them for sunbeams. See I'm crying over them.

A gun to the head would be a lot easier than all this bullshit. Trying to prove something to a bunch of assholes who I don't need to prove anything to. I'm just a person. Food, shelter, water, its all I need, when did we have to make a stamp on the world. Most of us will die leaving only children behind who will do the same. A few of us will leave something epic behind, music, book, science, math, etc...
If it weren't for my parents I would end it all, stop trying to prove myself in the real world. I don't belong here. I don't want to be here. Every moment I am here I want to be numbed by opiates. I'm too sensitive for this world. Every time you comment and want to hurt me you do it. Worse now that I don't have methadone to shield me. Still I will not disable anon comments. Everyone has the right to their own opinion. Just don't break my soul.

Friday, November 19, 2010

online dating

I met a guy on a online dating website called okcupid.com. We are a 75% match, and yesterday we texted for about an hour, and he seems cool. He lives about 35 minutes away. He has a car, and a job. This time no getting obsessed over a guy. I don't even know for sure if I like this guy. I haven't even met him yet. He is funny. His profile seems almost perfect. His picture is cute.

Being a girl in the Internet dating world you have to be very care full. A lot of pervs and physcos out there. I gave this guy my blog address so he can read everything that happened this summer with Jess, and my obsession. I told him about Jess, and that Jess and I still do bootycalls.

This guy has a lot of similarities to Jess. I think I still have a thing for Jess, but I've given up on Jess because I know he doesn't want a relationship with me.If I didn't like him and his cock I wouldn't still be fucking him after his Internet set up went arye. I'm being used by Jess, and I don't mind it.

If this guy I met online works out Jess would stop being a bootycall. No cheating.  

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

I love Heroin

I think some of you have the wrong impression of me and my new found sobriety with Suboxone. You seem to think it is what I want. By no means is it what I want. I've been backed into a corner by my parents and forced to clean up my act or forced to face the wrath of my father's empirical reign, and my mother's un sympathetic, and cruel way of beating me down when I'm using. Forcing me to feel as guilty as possible when I use. I can't stand to see them all up in arms when I'm out using. Plus I'm living in Wisconsin where I have to drive three to four hours to get Heroin. If I were in Hawaii I would no doubt be using Heroin and hiding it from my parents. Every side glance from my father would be dismissed with a I'm not feeling well, or I'm tired.

I am no where near ready to get off dope. I am ready to just start getting deep into the muck again. So don't get the wrong idea. I maybe doing well now, but its all up in the air. Its yet another forced sobriety. I've been backed into a corner by people I feel bigger than I. Forced to clean up my act, and make a pretty smile while doing so. The moment I'm let loose, the moment Heroin falls into my lap again it will be injected into my vein.

All day every day I think about Heroin. I love it, I crave it, I want it, I'll die for it.

I know I'm fucked up.

Prince Glendwood, Princess Anna

Prince William is off the Market, damn it. I so was going to marry him. The royal family lets in junkys living off SSI, and an American. A little plump, comes with a dog, suicidal tendencies. I am off the Methadone.

Which sucks ass btw. I'm weepy, depressed, seriously when I found out that Prince William was getting married I cried. Why you ask, no I didn't think I had a chance, I'm just suffering from withdrawals still. Oh God when will my body adjust?

Prince Glendwood, I still have a chance to marry you right? I don't care about your flaws. Your intelligent and that's what I care about. Perhaps a bit neurotic, but I can live with that. We can over through the current British Monarchy, and start our own. I'll be the sitting Queen. The first American Queen. We could be two Junkys sitting on the thrown.Our rule is simple, off with the dealers head if he doesn't have good gear. Knight a dealer if he has good gear.
So much fun to dream.

Tuesday, November 16, 2010


I started the Suboxone today. I went three days without any opiates and it was hellish. I cried like baby for three days straight. I couldn't watch t.v. I couldn't read, I couldn't listen to music, my legs kicked and shook, I thought about shooting myself. All because my body couldn't stand to be without opiates.

My appoinment was for 1:50pm this afternoon, but as soon as the Dr. office opened up I was on the phone calling to get an earlier appointment. I got in at 9am. The doctor fed them to me two mg at a time, and I didn't start to feel better until I was at 12 mgs.

So I'm no longer on Methadone, I'm on Suboxone. I'm not totally better yet. So this is all I can write.

Friday, November 12, 2010

pubic hair

Yesterday I bought a new down comfoter and silk sheets for my bed. For Xmass I'm buying my parents saten sheets with high egypten thread count in them. In this family sheets really make the bed. I spend a lot of money on my sheets. The sheets on my bed right now I paid 80 bucks for. The other pair I paid 60 bucks for. Oh yes, I forgot this month you guys paid me a grand. So I'm getting my Xmass shopping done this month.

My class is going very well. I'm learning a lot about plot development. Character development and such. In January when the class is over I'm signing up for English Composition so maybe I will be able to put commas and semi colons in the correct place. I've been going to class sick for the last few weeks, looking like shit. I can't wait for Tuesday when I start the Suboxone so I can clean myself properly and feel good enough to write a proper paper with real plot development and character development.

That's all for today. No sex stories, sorry. I just put up a dating profile on okcupid.com annagrace28 from Green bay WI. You can look at my profile. Or you could just look at my profile on blogspot. I hope my stalkers will check my profile on okcupid.com I do tell what kind of pubic hair I have. I'll tell you tomorrow, if I haven't told you guys already.

You know who I miss, Gledwood. I read his blog everyday, but he doesn't read my blog any more. Oh well.

Wednesday, November 10, 2010

I'm on my last leg of Methadone treatment.

I'm alive. As I hope Melody Lee is also. Whom ever left that comment that she OD'ed may not even know and could be just getting us all in an uproar. It could even be Melody Lee herself playing a joke on all of us. At least these things I hope. Melody Lee is great writer, with an honest blog. She is herself and proud to be herself. She takes no shit and will kick you in the teeth if you give her shit. Sarah and Regina would know for sure if she is dead or alive. If either of you two are reading my blog and read this post please do comment and tell me what is going on with Melody Lee.

As for me, no I have not relapsed. I just haven't been inspired to write. I've been sick as hell, I must be at such a low dose that my body isn't even holding it for a full 8 hours. I'm suffering. I'm in junky hell. I have until November 16, and this will all be over. I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't read, I can't write, (the only reason I'm writing right now is because I took one of my dad's Percocets) all I do is shit.

Yesterday I took some of my dad's pills, and Jess had called, and I went to Oshkosh, and we had a sex fest. It was nice, and now that I've totally given up on a relationship with him, and don't even really like him any more. I just like his cock, and his sex, it makes the sex much more fun, and it was fun before. Talking to him was much easier. Now that his brother and his brother's girlfriend are not living with him I was forced to socialize with only him. I didn't feel the need to impress him and  I spoke freely and spoke my mind. Even teased him. This defiantly won't be a every week thing, maybe a every once a month or two, if that. We are just friends with benefits. I want to try and help him get a real girlfriend. I didn't sleep over at his house either, first off I would have gotten sick, second off it just wouldn't be right for a booty call.

No more obsession with Jess. I guess that his girlfriend after me didn't work out. When I found out that he was seeing someone else I got over him immediately.  Now I'll never feel for him the same way again. Which is probably a good thing.

There is nothing new in my life. I am watching old movies on TCM like they are going out of style, and I have a crush on Humphrey Bogart, I never thought of myself as a star fucker, but Bogart and Zack G. from the Hangover and Due Date, I would totally due, even if it meant anal, and I hate anal. Of course Michael Pitt is another star I'd fuck, but not anal.

Monday, November 1, 2010

Junky pictures

I put some new photos of myself that I took during my relapse in July. They are some horrible pictures, but they show me as my junky self. Its not a pretty thing. For some reason when I'm using water scares me. Not littlerly, but I just don't want to take a shower, or comb my hair. So I just live this mess in my room. This is my true junky.