now i remember….

why i started doing drugs in the first place. life is a trainwreck. it always will be, drugs just kill the pain while we all die slowly….real slowly.

can’t have it both ways…

jese sits on the bed, i lay in my pj’s, tears rolling down my face. the sun is not even up yet. i love starting the day this way “so what you’re saying is  you wont get back on the clinic?” he asks, for the millionth time. “no, i don’t want to. i don’t want to get up at 545 and catch a bus in the middle of winter to go see my  dealer, the Commonwealth.” i snap. “so what, are you just gonna go on another run when you get your own money???”  (whatever happened to all that “our money” bullshit you pull when i hand over all my cash?)  “i dont wanna get strung out again, but yeah, i’d like to get high every once in a while.” i pull the covers up, its fuckin freezin in this hellhouse. “kaia, you know that you WILL get strung out again with that attitude.” he says, playing with his knife. i know he’s right, but: A. i won’t tell him that and B. i really don’t give a fuck. “so what do you want, jesse? you wanna get clean? how you gonna kick the benzo habit you got?” “detox.” “yeah fucking right, you don’t wanna stop with the pills. you already got me strung on them again, and there was no problem with that shit, what the fuck is the difference?” there is no goddamn difference. “you took the sixty dollars i made cleaning houses and made me pay you for that script of johnnies, and you doubled the PRICE!!!!” you won’t give me 40 bucks for a bag of coke, not cuz you want me to get clean, you see those dollars as pills in the hand, kid.” “i’m gonna miss the bus for the clinic.” he stands up. “better not miss that one.” i mutter, rolling over to try to go back to sleep. the door closes, and i roll over and grab this god awful machine and start looking for work. ha. that’s funny. i don’t know what jesse is thinking. being on the clinic is the furthest thing from being sober, i see it every day. that’s why i can’t go down there, i see wasted people, i need to be fuct up too. and he’s constantly on the nod cuz of the pills he mixes with it. he falls asleep smoking, eating. we ate so many pills last  night, we fell asleep at the bus station for an hour, missed 2 busses. then once we get on the bus, we fall asleep again, and have to wait at the OTHER end of the line a half hour to get home finally. and he’s clean……are you fucking kidding me? so i say, you can’t have it both ways. you can’t say your clean, and get fuct up. you can’t be fuct up in front of me and not expect me to not want to get high. you can’t push me into something i don’t want, and not expect a fight. there is no easy way out of this one, kids.  but when was this shit ever easy, right?

letters home

i put some jail letters up on my “postin up behind the wall” page. there is like 2months more to come, all the dirt’s coming out……