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.