Sunday morning 4:10am

Still Nothing

And I Want You

And I Need You

You are the perfect drug

You go straight to my head

Everything without you falls apart

I’m just waiting, to scared to leave, it’s a second chance.

Take me

Living without you everything falls apart

It’s not as much fun to pick up the pieces.

nights

I fucking hate the nights. Fetal position. What can I do? I know that moving around will make me feel better. I have to find something to do. I’m getting cold.

Saturday afternoon, still don’t know the date. Its mid afternoon and it’s warm outside. I’m still so fucking bored.

Waiting. Running through my head. 12:29pm. I’m listening to the radio. I can’t fucking move.

WHITE

CHRISTMAS

FUCK

saturday morning

It’s the early hours of Saturday morning somewhere in November 2002.

I’m craving again; all I can think of is scoring some smack. It’s a full time occupation, when I wasn’t scoring I was sleeping or working. Scoring took up most of my time. I just want to feel the happy numbness of nothing, nothing, happy existence.

I’m so fucking bored again. This will go on for a while, total and complete lack of interest in anything whatsoever, except the obvious and that’s all I think about.

WHITE. THAI. I think I fucking hate white, maybe red. I’m so fucking bored. I should try keeping myself busy. Jeff gave me a tape on Tuesday, so I thought pretty cool something to do but the tape didn’t work. I had to listen to the radio, sucked, of course. I gave the tape back to Jeff today, they don’t work sucks, thought I’d have some monotonous mind numbing music to listen to. I don’t think anything could ever be as numbing as the smack.

I’m getting cold but it’s about 30 degrees outside, I think it’s about 10pm.

somewhere november 2002

Still Friday. I would love a bottle of Jack Daniels right now. What the fuck to do?

I need a cell.

Suffer ye the little children.

Friday evening.

I don’t know anymore if it’s Friday. It might be Saturday. I fell asleep. I think I slept. I don’t feel to bad. I’m still so fucking bored. I need something to do. I still can’t think straight. I think it’s day 6 today.

Last time I was having convulsions in hospital before I went to rehab. Again I don’t remember much but I remember being on a drip I couldn’t sleep for about 10 days. I remember blood all over my clothes. I remember being on a lot of medication. Every time it gets worse. I still need to be taken off the medication.

I’m

Craving

WHY.

Quite a bit

Feeling really

Anxious

Suicide. Death. Gooseflesh.

Immortal Demon from Hades.

This is my torment.

Long fucking… I hate waiting

I have absolutely no energy to move but I can’t fucking lie here anymore. I have to find something to do but I can’t fucking move.

8h00

I’ve had breakfast and taken a shower

My nose is going fucking crazy, runny thick unswallowable phlegm and I can’t fucking breath

I just lie here, I can’t trust myself to go anywhere

It’s Thursday. Listening to the radio.

Reach for the lights. 10h10

Stanley Kubrick

Fear and Loathing

Fear

Lines

Papillon, I’m reading

Lost, waiting, waiting, waiting…

Smoking, Tobacco Drum Extra Mild

Waiting, Hallucinations, Illusions

Dreams, No Dreams, Nothing

Nothing, Nothingness, Waiting

Inhale. Inhale

                                    Suicide

                        Done It.

Just had something to eat; it’s 11h11, rebirth

Nothing, still nothing, empty

I don’t know what to do with myself.

I’m in my room; I want to get out of here

I’m going fucking insane but there’s nowhere to go. It’s a fucking crazy feeling; I have no fucking idea why I do this to myself

Right now that’s all I want. I’m craving the nothingness, the real hurts, hurts like hell

I’m fucking bored and rambling, somewhere in November 2002