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Attack of the Furry Entertainers!

Attack of the Furry Entertainers!

Monday, January 31, 2011

Ever Decreasing Circles

16:24 I JUST READ BACK the miserable post below! I was wondering at myself for using such extreme sounding language about wanting to kill one part of myself and the other part taking over...? Now I realize despite having labelled it not at all relevant (hmmm!) ~ that what I read was actually my drug addiction speaking!

In addiction the three year old child rules!

In my madness the adult takes care of the child. The child plays, but the adult remains in charge. This is the case even in severe schizophrenia. I know a couple of schizophrenics; both are delusional. Both are on compulsory once fortnightly depot shots. One goes absolutely loony-tunes fruitloops when he's ill. And I've only seen him "half" ill, and that was ill enough for me. He gets so bad police have to pick him up for his own safety to hospital which he declares is "worse than prison" (how bad was the hospital or how cushy was the prison? That's what I wanna know!).

But even with these two, the parents must be in charge. Otherwise they'd get in far more trouble than they actually do!

This is what's heartbreaking about drug addiction. It's the only mental or medical condition I know of where your Lower Self (for want of a better expression: I don't know what else to call it) where your baser motives rule over you. You find yourself running with a different flow that is exhilarating as it is scary. Suddenly you can do whatever you want. And whatever you want is more-more-more of your drug of choice ~ probably heroin and/or crack. The people I hung around with were heavy IV heroin users. When we had £10s we bought a £10 bag (each). £15 bought £15. £20... £25 (3x£10) £30 (2x15 or one gram) £35 (2x£20) £40 (3x£15) £40 or £45 a "sixteenth" (1.5g) £45 (different dealer) or £50 a true sixteenth (1.75g) and so on. Any amount, in £5 increments was covered by one dealer or another.

Our entire existence revolved around getting money, phoning, waiting, meeting, using using using sleeping, up with a jolt "got to go to work" running to the begging pitch money money money phone bus wait score bus home (home was a disused factory at one time) candles burning: use use use. Sleep.

I had nightmares nearly every night at one point. I woke up laughing or screaming around this time, a lot.

Wake up in a blur. Same old same old still ever-going-round day.

I nearly always had drugs and/or money when I woke (carefully shoved in one sock) because I organized myself well that way. Unlike a crackhead, a heroin addict knows for sure they will need to use the next morning, so they make sure the ways or means are there. The idea of going sick was unconscionable. I hardly ever went sick without knowing a bottle of methadone or a few DFs weren't stashed somewhere and could save me. [I would rather wait for real gear, save the medication for absolute, utter desperation...] As junkies go I was an organized junkie.

So what happened? Over a period of years I lost faith in myself. Lost courage, lost energy, lost the will to go on.

I thought I wanted to die: perhaps I wanted to clean up.

Methadone never really worked for me. A day on methadone was a day of visceral misery punctuated by frequent trips to my chest of drawers for hits from ever-weakening twice-thrice-four times ~ here's a new bit! ~ filters.

It sometimes annoyed me that the drugs clinic appeared not to have the faintest idea what I meant by "craving". I meant "I will pick heroin out of dog shit and use it" I meant "I will inject a crusty old scab if I think an old heroin filter lies in the middle". I did inject my own crusted blood once. Made myself sicker than I've ever been, physically. I got a dirty hit so dirty I could barely walk the next day.

In the end I just got tired. "Sick and tired of being sick and tired" as they say (another NA expression). I don't think NA are my Saviour. I think I am my Saviour. God is my Saviour. NA are a tool, like a screwdriver that tightens a sqealing hinge. Apply your own oil. NA have a purpose, that purpose is to keep Addicts clean. So I use them what they're there to be used for. You don't spend £100 on a train ticket to Glasgow then expect it to fix your leaky roof. Likewise I cannot confide to a roomful of NA members my mental condition. I have a Nutter Club on Thursdays for that. I try and keep my ears open and my expectations reasonable.

So here you have it: me being positive.

I'm sorry about earlier, to anyone who was bemused or pissed off. I was merely letting off steam!


18:28 I just googled someone I knew from uni, found him. It stressed me, made my head go fast-ast-ast-ast-ast like that-at-at-at-at echoing-oing-oing-oing-oing-oing which is not the same as the hearing words echoed, that's hallucination; this is thought smashing fast enough into itself to break into trailing sounds. Those antipsychotics are doing something. They keep me physically calm; I noticed that earlier today. When I'd otherwise be pacing or even dancing they keep my feet literally on the ground. How bizarre. And caffeine doesn't have such an "illegal" effect on TWO cups of tea or coffee, any more..!


Thanks Lizzy o yeah I remember this. Do you know I'd head of "trip to the moon" but never knew it was this one!

Illustrated: ever decreasing circles sourced from The Games Blog

Personality Transplant?

I AM SECOND GUESSING MYSELF now for being in a good mood. Last time this crap wore off* I felt like I'd been smacked round the head by a truck. This time I'm gently settling down. Although I didn't sleep last night, except 1:30am till 3am. 90 mins. I don't mind not sleeping. 1 sleep is a waste of time anyhow and 2 lack of sleep makes me feel happy. I went out and bought a DVD player today. Argos's cheapest at £19.99 + £2.49 for SCART lead. It works. I got it to play Mandarin Chinese at me, so I remember me tones now.

Then I did my own amateur cooking (haddock parsley sauce on broccoli florets on stuffed mushroom tortelloni). The food was yummy. That's another thing: will I have to inflict Iron Will on self to counteract antipsycho weight gain? Eating is just another addiction. Chained to the body, to the ground. I like feeling like energy, up in the sky. At my highest point I felt like I was flying in outer space looking back down at the tiny earth behind me.

This is the problem I have with NA: my mood. I'm so vehement my talk goes through the room like an electric jolt. Or I cannot focus at all and only catch the chair (the speech at the beginning: somebody's life story). Or a couples of shares (people's reaction to a life story I haven't heard or just their account of their day (which I prefer); if there is a silence then I speak. I'm not shy about sharing, but it annoys me having to edit out what's actually going on (my lovely potty mental condition) and talk about what isn't at all relevant because it barely crosses my head (my drug habit). I only talk in terms of drugs as they are terms of reference I think of in terms of energy, mood and feeling good. I have never felt good not on drugs, bar a very few occasions. Not in my adult life, where I was depressed or ill a lot of the time, or in low-grade depression for more.

Talking about personality I hated the mousy person I was and would gladly have watched him be smacked by an express train over and over again. Loathing. Not even self loathing: that person is someone else. I will kill him. He can die. He is not me. That's how I feel about that one. I hate that person, which is why I decided if I got bipolar disorder I'm doing myself in, there is no point living like that. No point living like me. That's my view, not my mood, not a swaying whim.

Then on the other hand I have More Iron Will and think: if you don't like who you are CHANGE IT. If you don't like your life CHANGE IT. If you don't like drugs DON'T DO THEM. If you want to be OK ~ DO RECOVERY. See I have two opposing characters fighting constantly. The stronger one is so far winning but I hate the weak one with a passion and still want it dead. Yeah I will get rid the nice way by "changing". I'm still mighty pissed off with that person.

I know this is going to look all messed up in the head but I'm posting anyhow. I'm not unhappy today I'm just angry with this person who has messed my life up by being sappy, feeble and pathetic. Forget drug addiction. That's for NA to obsess about. I'm talking my entire life. You wonder why yesterday I said I "had nothing to go back to" ~ well I didn't want to go back to that life-destroyer. A slow destroyer. I don't even want to talk about that person so I'm going now.

Don't worry about me I'm OK I'm not depressed at all, I'm just ANGRY at myself. I have to BE myself but I don't want to be who I was I want to be who I am now and a better version at that!

This is my life goal.

*the crap in question is the mental health thing I'm getting antipsychotics for, not a drug state!

PS re NA it's paranoia that makes it so difficult, people looking at me, sitting right next to me, hemming me in... all that stuff. I know my attention span is lousy. I wouldn't be able to post if I couldn't touch type. At least with posting I have the luxury of stopping and smoking cigarettes. The time of the post is nearly always the time posted, not begun. OK I'm off, take care and don't let me get to you. I don't want to get to anyone, I'm just letting off steam, I'm fed up with myself.

I don't know who I was yesterday... who will I be tomorrow?

"... I DON'T KNOW who I was ysterday... who will I be tomorrow...?" only time can tell that one Gleds!

Now it's 04:42 hours; I've been up since 3. Ursula le Guin, author of The Earsthea Trilogy, is on the The Interview, BBC World Service radio. She's talking about the last Yahi Indian, whom her father knew (he learned Ishi's language from Ishi to communicate and tape down all his stories and knowledge. Ishi Ishi was the very last of his tribe, the last speaker of the Yahi language and Ursula Le Guin's Dad learned this language. This is fascinating.

Do you like the top illustration? My mental state! The second one's just funky triangles I found. I've updated my
sidebar with some tunes I do actually listen to now. Moby Go, Urban shakedown Some Justice, Joe Beltram Energy Flash and Praga Khan Injected with a Poison (my anthem, that one... "there's a rainbow inside your mind... injected with a poison... we don't need that any more" well said!!

Well I'm going to ping off now. I only wanted to post some more music. Here's Moby's Go. The proper original video mix as well ...

O BTW for me really but in case anybody wondered why I posted up
Trisch Li manic a couple of weeks or so ago, it's because her behaviour is so strikingly similar to mine it's unreal. She's like my sister!

official video. l luuurved this tune



06:38 BBC Today Programme is doing a report on the Heroin Drought and low street heroin purity.
SOCA claim that as well as poor growing conditions in Afghanistan, the cause is more dealers and importers being busted. SOCA also say the wholesale price of heroin has doubled to £40,000 per kg (ie ridiculously high)

Sunday, January 30, 2011

Cutting through the Alcohol Obsession

20:20 DOES MY BODY ACTUALLY REMEMBER how much I drink? Why does "it" want one more now? Does "it" know I usually take 2? Is it just me? I've been drinking for 10 years between 7.5 units (75mls) and 22.5 units (225mls neat alcohol) that's 2-6 half litre 7.5% vol white cyder cans.

20:52 I'm on Smirnoff Ice vodka-cloudy lemonade 4% vol 700mls which is 2.8 units 28mls alcohol and it is much nicer than the "gutrot" I was on before. Also I can water this at will with cans of cloudy lemonade. (Huge bottles I will probably just glug through, I know me.)

I came in from the shop met the nice guy downstairs who told me he hears voices (I don't care if he's a nutter; so am I!) also it's an alliance against the people who hate me here, so it's important. We also give each other money. Both ways. I like this guy. He was on "white" (crack) running between crack houses. Doesn't even smoke a spliff now. Is still hyper and I know someone on drugs he ain't on drugs. He struck me as "mental health" the second I first saw him.)... I was in a good mood, With a rush I used to get from drugs. Hey at least this means I've not burned out my brains on all these chemicals. Otherwise I'd not be ABLE to feel good...

Gotta run: Iceland's best cauliflower cheese in oven!

22:33 NA Basic Text p294 ("What Makes Me Happy Now") Japanese woman shares about NA in Japan:
Many women shared how drugs were a good thing for them, until their using became unmanageable. I didn't understand this until the new translation. These woman also had a hard time with the word "recover". In Japanese "recover" means "to go back to the way you used to be." Surviviors of abuse don't want to go back to the way they used to be. In recovery, they want to move on and grow. People who had nothing to start with were afraid that they really had nothing to recover...

And THAT, my friends, is what put me off stopping for ever such a long time. I had nothing to come back TO.

Read Shane's post about a heroin drought (2001) for the truth on the attitude of drug clinics to the Truly Desperate ...

Thanks Lizzy (spelled correctly this time)
I like this

for Melody

"We are E" means the same as Urban Shakedown's Some Justice "we live as one family"... we're all together, all as one, on this brilliant stuff E for Ecstasy. Which lived up to its name with me, I thought it was fantastic, more fantastic than anything before or since ...

one more for garage-lovin' Melody




Illustrated: bolt cutters ~ I need these to cut through my drinking obsession ....

Drink Update Sunday

15:04 I'm kind of drinking but not liking it. I had no drink in the morning, longwalked to Iceland to get my £2 chunky Family Steak Pie and kept thinking "I don't need alcohol, I don't need heroin, I don't need anything, I'm OK" then I kept thinking about the drink and thought "OK well just get one then" which I did and it spent an uncannily long time unopened ~ over half an hour, which is not like me. Usually I crack it open on the street, then have to be real nice when police stop me. (They don't like people glugging alcohol in public, even from a Soft Drinks Bottle...) So if I can, I'm making this my one for the day. Knowing what I'm like I cannot be confident in this, as I'll tend to go to 2, as I said. But more than 2 I'm sure I will not do, not today. ("Just for today"). I got a phone call from my old heroin dealer yesterday. I didn't answer. Got a text from another saying will I taste some food for him (no). So I'm still off heroin. Still off drugs of an illegal nature. Still ON drugs of a legal nature: methadone; risperidone (both daily) and zopiclone 7.5mg as required. I had one last night after staying up well past 11pm. Dropped it. Sleeping like a baby by midnight. Yummmy stuff. I only ever daydreamed or loved or obsessed over sleeping pills TO SLEEP. Not to "light the tedium of the protracted evening" as Sylvia Plath said. She also said "their poppy-sleepy colors do him no good". Mine are white, so I'm OK on that score..!

Man I just checked that drink, nearly ALL there! Such a guzzler me, aren't I!!

THIS is why I wasn't too hot on going to AA instead of as well as NA. People hear that I drink, but my problem is OPIATE ADDICTION. That's the core problem. Drink only ever was a gear-intensifier and a bit of Dutch courage for begging.

As I told the dr., it makes me feel a bit better in depression. When ultra-hyper it barely does anything. Probably it takes the edge off. If say I slammed a glass into a wall in that state it would be my hyperosity NOT the drink doing that. I've drank enough over enough time to know how I behave on drink, and it's not like that! Also I was down to my bare minimum 2 on most days. Not drunk, by any means.

I know I'm walking a fine line that sounds like excuses here. I have to note down the facts for my own recollection. I WANT OFF DRINK ALL TOGETHER. I was told to cut down in stages, not just come off, which is why I can't just dump it. Though I'd sorely love to just do that, I also know I'm an addict. Which means I'm into associations. And the best association I can use to get OFF is to use a mixer and switch gradually to neat mixers with no booze. Does that make sense...? Somebody who knows please advise.

"An addict on their own is in bad company". (NA saying.)

"The heart is deceptive above all things". (Biblical quotation.)

I'll leave it there (another NA saying).

Nick inspired this choice with his Peter Paul and Mary video

LEONA LEWIS: see how pretty she sings? She's in the Streisand-Houston league though to listen to her singles you wouldn't believe it... Illustrated: not even I have this many empties (was this person a Diet Coke fan..?!?, Seconal 100mg (1960s sleeping pill); empty coctail glass (depressing)

Sylvia Plath: INSOMNIAC is here.
Brings me up in goosebumps it's so fine.

About pills: ...
... A life baptized in no-life for a while,
And the sweet, drugged waking of a forgetful baby.

And re nighttime brooding...
His head is a little interior of grey mirrors.
Each gesture flees immediately down an alley
Of diminishing perspectives, and its significance
Drains like water out the hole at the far end.

19:34: Note to self: GABA supplements and XXXXXXX Disorder
Not that I have XXXXXXX Disorder. I don't, I have no diagnosed mental disorders (apart from depression) and certainly not that one.

Sunday Noon Entertainment/ Alcohol Report

THIS POST IS REALLY FOR MORE MUSIC (see below). I slept about 10 hours from midnight to 10am. Took 2x2mg Risperidone 1x7.5mg zopiclone; had 2 or 3 drinks (500ml White Stars/White Aces 7.5% vol alcohol). The day before yesterday I drank about 5 of them. Today I'm sticking to 2, or even 1 if I can do it.

2 drinks I can get to quite easy. 1 in the morning; 1 in the afternoon. Going below that has been difficult. I could cut out the morning drink most easily.

The Dual Diagnosis Worker phoned me the other day, post Psych Dr Appointment; we talked about ways of reducing. Everybody says I want to switch drinks as White Cyder is "gutrotting" and "has never seen an apple". It is NOT a romanticized evening Cyder House near Stonehenge beautiful Keats Ode to Autumn type drink. It is liquid Brillo pads, for homeless street drinkers to get pissed-up as quick and as cheap as possible. Mixed with tropical fruit mixed cocktail it's a beautiful budget alcopop. And probably super-bad for my teeth. Which are acid-eroded enough (to quote the toothpaste commercial).

OK so that's me and drink. I don't know my mental state it's probably higher than normal still but high feels good. I only say "high" knowing now what that is and how it reacts and how it feels (not the same as drug high, by any means: feels more "normal" goes off like a Pinnnnng--gggggg-ing Pika at no notice. Is intensely cheered by social situations. Speaks quick. Is highly distractable. Is paranoid more on the lower levels than the high ones, when it is full of grandeur...) so that's me.

I'm OK. I hope I'm staying on topic and being relevant.

Anyway here's music!

Thanks Lizzie

Hilarious. I love this "song"; only rap thing I really like

SNEAKER PIMPS Spin Spin Sugar ( Armands Dark Garage Mix )
Thanks Lizzie

ARMIN VAN BUUREN FT. SHARON DEN ADEL - In and Out of Love (Official Music Video)

Illustrated pinging pikas: they live up mountains in North America and Central Asia, look like a bunny rabbit crossed with a hamster. They ping everywhere, and collect bunches of flowers to hoard and eat when the flowers rot down. Russian Dwarf hammies live in disused pika burrows....

13:25 severe hunger pangs; going up Iceland for a Family Steak Pie (proper chunks of steak, no mince) which I eat with mixed veg dumped on top (there's enough carbs in the crust in my view...)

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Back to the old School

I'm sitting on my bed (on the floor, very Japanese) because it's so cold in the other room my hands freeze! Here's some music I've been thinking about posting for ages!

Back to the old School

I prefer this one best. A genuine club cut. Got to UK mainstream #1 early 1987
Love the dancing in this one; paaticulaly the black guy in a suit doing that v funky liquid shuffle early on

UK #1 later in 1987 "Pump up the volume" was sampled endlessly by the unimaginative in the year following.

Illustrated: Victorian school photograph, commemorating a school play, from the school at Great Crakehall, near Bedale in Yorkshire

Pirate FM Radio Stateions London: http://www.transmissionzero.co.uk/radio/london-pirate-radio

OK I'm on Rude FM 88.2 now. Digital tuning: v difficult... vs analogue= so narrow you miss it!

20:13 Now on House FM 88.6; fed up of D&B ~~ anybody know any good Old Skool Hardcore Rave FM? (Can't find anything) ...

OK these are notes to self: 92.9FM mellow; Eruption (hardcore) is 101.3
94.6 drum & bass better than Rude FM (more NRG); 95.1 D&B better again; 97.00 African(?) 102.8 Turkish "rave" haha!!

Saturday Afternoon Quick

I am rushing faster than I thought I was. Two cups of tea set it off, if you want blame. Should I blame something or was it just me? I felt anxious, then had to find my keys, then had to go get methadone after going post office to get out money to lend someone else. Then I went saw Paddadadster gave him £25 then I felt PHEWWWEWWWW!! Deflated, down to the ground, but in a good way, then I was hyper again by the public library, pacing, racing. Pinging in all directions inside there. Found a Readers Digest Family Health guide, right there on the shelf-end, found myself in there, didn’t like what I saw. Snapped book shut. Pinged out, up the road, phone rang someone had seen me who was in that Magical Mystery Tour Car last Saturday saying I saw you from the bus how’s it going. Very well. Very quick. I didn’t say quick, but talked it.

Now I’m in bedroom as other room so chilly my hands barely move. Open windows no heating. My own heater’s broken or the fuse has gone.

Last night I slept maybe 11 or 12 hours. 10:30 to 10:30 with some awake “uuuuuuh?!?” in between. First time I got up it was just after nine, but I was sure the click was broken and it was 7pm ie not 0900 but 1900 hours but no. It just felt like I slept hours and hours and hours MORE than I did. I had a weird dream about a servant girl from Upstairs Downstairs in our house sneaking upstairs to take the dogs for a walk.

I went to NA last night but was only there for the chair [life story given at beginning]. I was tripping* with “auditory hallucinations” all day and all night.

Yesterday day time I went to the laundrette but again was tripping. And trying not to drink too much as people think I’m an alcoholic when I just was off on one anyway.
That’s my diary for today and yesterday. Hope it makes sense.

Hope y’all are OK. Take care XX

*I haven't taken a drugs trip for over 10 years, this tripping/hallucinating is just me, what happens

thanks Lizzie
part of that's the tune from moby's GO. jam and spoon did AGE OF LOVE BY AGE OF LOVE remix
which is fantastic trance classic, from a Tsuyoshi psychotrance mix tape we had back in 1994 which seems ANCIENT now!

this tune is transcendently beautiful. note the foreign voice "come on, dance with me, move your body..." trance was & is international
VIDEO the waters are Goa-green. When I went to India, the water I saw was emerald green, not sapphire blue I was expecting... except perhaps in Tamil Nadu, which is on the Bay of Bengal-cum-Indian Ocean (not the Arabian Sea as is Goa) ... I'd love to Goa back...
for non-trance-party purposes, i thik this mix is better than the one at the bottom

AGE OF LOVE AGE OF LOVE JAM & SPOON REMIX same as above but longer 6 mins not 3

MOBY GO 2 VIDEOS the distinctive tune is the twin peaks music, not the theme tune, the tune that made it seem so dreamlike in-sequence ...
apart from the awful piano break i quite like this one:~~~~~~~~

different visuals, different mix

Friday, January 28, 2011



Not all tigers are fearsome all the time...

They like going for a bask...

... they remind me of big house-cats really...


Valerie Intervenes


January 27, 2011 6:09 PM
Valerie said...

Anna Darling

Are you sure you want a photo of that motherfucker? He's ugly as sin. Turned up to our halloween party I said "oh what an imaginative costume!" as I irritably answered the door (presses the doorbell 300 times in 2 mins that one) then the bastard points to this enormous sports bag and says "nah this is just me, costume's in here" and it was. I had in me violet contact lenses so I couldn't see clear but it was him. Ugly as fuck, you know!

Now babes what is wrong with you? Obsessing over that idiot in London. I'm sending you over 2 pots of dilaudid so you can forget all about him. I know you prefer the lovely neat stuff my drugs lab in Western Aus cooks up. This one's particularly yummy. I've got some weirdo Panda Brand heroin I'm trying to get rid of. This one "makes everything look sparkly" and gives severe diarrhoea. Do you know anyone who'd like a couple of keys. I know 2kg is barely worth couriering over but seriously I could do with every penny I can get at the moment.

Locked up in this dive, it's awful. Ho Ling's in a piss with me. It's to do with her vagina-cum-stashbox as usual. She wants more and more of that yummy 999 Brand we're currently on. Double UO Globe's out till your Mr Kim's finished doing his job on that 100kgs brown.

Magic Monkey is going like wildfire across the north of this country. Rabbit brand, that's the crap. We send that to Tasmania. They're all crazy down there anyhow. New Zealand is currently on Stripper Brand. Stripper is a new one I invented with Ho Ling's legs in fishnets. I spent ages sketching the artwork before passing it to me lawyer. My lawyer is the only legal representative I know who also arranges artwork on 1.4kg heroin bricks!

Now where was I going with this. Oh that scummy Gledwood. Please darling be careful with that one. There's more to that muddy puddle than meets the eye, I'm sure of that. He's only fun on drugs or that potty mental condition of his.

Oh shit I've got to go, Ho Ling's bashing Trish over the head with a dinner tray. Must I play headmistress every day?

Screws don't mind me using the Blackberry at dinnertime now. Everybody knows I'm Queen B in here so I walk along using me mobile phone in front of everyone, slap Lynn, our Pocket Warder on the arse and call the Governor "Darling". The girls think I'm wonderful!

Oh shit, really gotta go. Ho Ling's just done Trish with a fork and there's blood...

... take care baby. Keep away from scum!



On Doctor-Drugs

I'M ON DRUGS AGAIN! The Doctor's Risperidone stuff. It knocked me right out. I don't like the feeling of being brought down. I was very peeved (to put it nicely) last night. I watched something to do with baying furry huskies in the arctic. They remind me of Japanese or American akitas (American ones came over after the defeat of Japan in World War II, they're generally bigger and furrier and come in patterns the Japanese wouldn't consider "right"). Akita dogs seem to have a fairly reserved temperament. They don't run up to people they don't know, though one once did to me and stared into me, very intense, not aggressive, just looking at me. She had beautiful fur. She used to go walkies in my Dealer Park.

Anyway I was TRYING to keep relevant and on topic.

I woke up after 8 hours sleep at the very shortest. It was probably closer to 9. 10-6, though the last bit was me awake going uuuuuuuuuh?!? zonked out of my head on this antipsychotic stuff.

My head was going quick. I know the sign. Waking up with loud very fast music going round my brain is NOT what used to happen. Also the strange sense that my head is echoing outside itself (that is I can hear the echoes) even when that happened before it didn't happen within 5 mins of waking up.

I learned about symptoms from a self-help guide re depression. It says the first to come on are usually the last to go, which is why I put them down, even though I'm not depressed. I hoped I wasn't going there last night I was in a pretty bad mood. Anyway before I go in a complete loop that's all there is...

... and this in italics happened when one sentence was struck down:~

Lizzy is talking to me on the other screen on Gabbly. I think she is rushing about between bits of toast, hairbrushes and coffee. Lizzy would never smoke cigarettes. She is a nurse... Now (10 mins later) she's gone to work.

oh yeah and "turning into pure energy" (yesterday) was a feeling more than an idea (not a delusion!) (methinks he doth protest too much, ha ha!)

Illustrated: American akitas (can you see why I was slightly nervous when one ran directly up to me in a park, you wouldn't want to mess with one); snake biting its tail, how I tend to go ~ in circles ~ no I don't think I'm a pair of gold earrings; "pure energy" google brought this up, not what I was looking for but it looks nice

ok far as i know, lacrimosa is the decent part of mozart's requiem and lacrimosa means sadness or sad. crying sad not utterly pathetic. mozart is a lot of things, pathetic is not one of them!

with pictures

faster and bassier than the old version

Thursday, January 27, 2011



Before that he was a dr. I had seen who works there. Now he's my dr.

I'm on antipsychotics. Respiradone or risperadone, I don't know what it's called (I'm not looking it up) 2mg x2 daily. That's not supposed to be very much.

He said it's for schizophrenia and mood problems and it should stop my moods being so extreme. I don't think he was telling me I had schizophrenia. The S word terrifies me even though the other words are probably worse. I don't mean to mystify by not giving other words I just don't want to.

Obviously I had to say how I felt today. Which is less hyperhigh than yesterday, which was less than the day before. Saturday in particular, Saturday morning and early afternoon I was off my rocker. That's when I had to do a car journey. "Had to" meaning chose to and forced self into it. I am a little toddler and a horrible parent.

When I was using heroin the brat was in charge. Strangely even though I was going crazy and knew it (most of the time) ... even then the parent kept charge. If he hadn't I'd have got myself in tremendous trouble. My ideas included 1. walking to Paris (through the channel tunnel) and 2. giving up methadone (all part of the same scheme) and 3. throw all my possessions out of the window and set fire to them on the street (again, part of the same scheme) which was inspired by paranoia and "grandiosity" as they might call it. Feeling I don't need anything or anyone because I'm above it and "turning into pure energy anyway"... ahem. Well I told ya everything else, might as well shove this lovely lot in ya crack pipe and smoke it. Yeah I was going crazy yeah yeah I know. Maybe at that precise moment in time I didn't have quite the same view on things, but I must have had some view as I didn't do it. Also you have to bear in mind my attention was so fractured I sometimes literally could not follow what people were saying. So my hopes of actually chucking everything out of a window and locating lighters and kindling and fuel and walking to Paris were slightly slim, to say the least.

I hope someone somewhere has been really entertained by that revelation as I don't know whether to laugh or... what?! I don't feel depressed. (Thank God.) I just feel less hyperdiaper. The dr. wanting to know how I felt I was I could only say "well I think I'm absolutely fine and would willingly stay the way I am today for ever" (that is less hyper than before but still hyped up a bit)... "but you will probably think I'm still gone"...

... then I had to answer a string of questions about whether some outside agency was controlling my body (no) could other people read my thoughts (no) did I hear my thoughts aloud (yes)... then voices voices. I don't even wanna talk about voices. No I don't hear voices telling me to do stupid things. When I was out of it everything I heard whether or not it was "real" sounded mighty peculiar. Just the noise of a car going past sounded like an inverted SWOO-OO-SHHHHHHHH-H-H-H through a cosmic sound vortex. I kept forgetting I wasn't actually at a hardcore rave. It was like a party all the time. A fantastic nonending over a week long party. Which is not a bad way to feel.

So now I'm on antipsychotics. I hope this is followable and rational and all. I am trying to be boring and grounded. I don't want to be boring. Maybe I'll try just the grounded (one foot only).

I'm looking for a life. Have yet to find one. Did find my DSS Money Card! Wow! Bought cyder and a pie with it.

Oh and stopping drinking isn't my biggest priority, that's official, from the dr's mouth. He wasn't condoning drinking. Just said it's not as hugely bad as ... I dunno. I can do it. I don't WANT to be an old drinker so I'm stopping anyway. Don't need a dr. to tell me to do that.

OK I'm off. Take it easy.

ps of course i'm looking up what crap i'm on, just not today, not now
can't believe i'm about to take that stuff. ukkk. has it really got this bad that i'm "severe"... o man... o shuttup gledwood shuttup i'm off

i had to take my psycho-script down my normal chemist. wasn't in mood for sniffy other pharmacist to give me "you're a nutter" looks

illustrated: nutcracker suite. some ballet. i like the picture because it has people flying through the air. and because it is blue

19:50hrs OK I just double-dropped 2x 2mg Risperidone. Might as well get it over and done with. I bosh it all back at night to start with; then one nightly one daily from next week. I have x3 zopiclone 7.5s (as required) which he told me was today, tomorrow the next day. I'd rather save them... That's it

How to get a life in 1000 easy steps

I say one thousand because that's very approximately 3 years and I think anyone Recovering from serious heroin addiction would be hard pressed to truly be able to say they'd broken free in less time.

All I'm doing at the moment is

1. seeing psychiatrists
2. going to mental health groups/meetings and methadone clinic appointments
3. sorting out housing problems (I think this social worker type person is meant to get in touch soon)
4. looking after myself in basic ways
5. going to NA

I'm not sure I could do more than that. Not today.

My attention was so scattered last week I could focus on nothing. Cooking was fun because everything burned (couldn't hang on to the fact it was in the oven) and the smoke alarm which "went right through me" felt absolutely fantastic. Rather than just pissing me off the way it normally would.

I didn't realize I had a truly "high mood" until last Wednesday when I got taken to a Mental Hospital for being too hyper (and proving I wasn't on drugs with a drug test) and having complained of mood swings (up and down) for a long time. And now being tired of just not functioning the way others seem to find it easy to function, and living in a mess. And also getting pretty badly depressed on occasion. These were and are what I'm trying to sort first. Drug addiction itself has to come second. As my old Worker, who was a mental nurse, told me I was "self medicating". At first I thought this was just a load of tosh that sounded good, though I'm sure I repeated it here. Then I slowly realized how true that was. Now I'm after either Nothing (ie I piece my life together myself with no chemical assistance) or I take psychiatric meds. The word "antipsychotics" has come up repeatedly and not out of my mouth. From doctors' mouths.

Yesterday I was in a meeting and couldn't focus for hearing voices. I was nowhere near as hyped up as I've been before. Yesterday morning, for example, I had this weird sensation of actually being in my body, the way I was before, but hadn't been for about 9 days ~ and didn't care about, at the time...

So I'm off to this doctor in about an hour's time. I will post what happened, unless I just decide to hibernate.

This is another problem, and I suppose it comes under self-care in the above list. I just am not sleeping the way "normal" people seem to or the way I used to (which often involved feeling crap and sleeping too much).

I was taking sleep meds (zopiclone 7.5mg). I was prescribed a week's worth and took it every day in an attempt to reset my sleep cycle.

It hasn't entirely worked, as on Tuesday night I slept between 1 and 2 hours then just woke up and got up. Yesterday I was absolutely exhausted and slept about 7 and a half, going to bed in the early evening and getting up at 2. Yes I know that's not ideal timing... just you try and be that tired, that distracted and not sleep, knowing there's a good chance you might go UP and keep going through the night.

Yeah I'm pretty sure this is what doc-docs like to call a "mood disorder". I certainly had one before (depression). Whatever this one is I cannot diagnose so that little issue has to remain there.

Now I'm off. I have pizza cooked for breakfast. It's only 10 past 10 in the morning, but I've not eaten since I got up. I have no appetite, interspersed with sudden, intense hunger.

So that's what I'm up to, and thanks to the person who said get a life at Melody's, you inspired a fairly focused post for once.

I told that person to get their own then tell me about it. I wasn't being entirely sarky: I'd be interested to know what that person does do with their time. I mean if they keep house, have cats, kids, a job. Or whether they're just some addict who cannot break their habit. I know how the latter feels, but not really the former.

Take care y'all...


Away Day Return

MESSED UP DR APPOINTMENT: something went wrong re the dr's appointment between me, my family, my worker, the dr, and the time but I've got another for later today so no harm done. I had to pick up a methadone script for next week anyhow. And I saw some nutters I know. And some junkies I know. Nutter-junkies are the best. Only type I truly understand.

Where me and normal junkies go off at tangents is in lifestyle as there was no way I was barging into shops every single day, multiple shops per day, stocking up, hiding it all in alleys and bins and hoping no other bastard shoplifter or tramp runs off with it all, then when all that's done having to sell the crap, probably feeling tired and your lovely customers being able to read how desperate you are (not that I've ever "sold stolen goods" but say, hypothetically, that I did it as a favour for someone else; then that someone would have been really surprised at how much cash I got, as I came in daisy-fresh and got money for their toothpaste and shampoo (when I didn't know it shocked me just how humdrum these shoplifted items are! I thought addicts nicked nice stuff. Not coffee, headache pills and razors! Another thing that shocked me was realizing that stuff on sale in small shops was often shoplifted from bigger shops, sold on at less than wholesale. The kind of shop that would go nuts if you got caught nicking from THEM, the hypocrites!) anyway shoplift thing over... what was I on about. O yeah

here's a point (at last)

how can I possibly know how much another person suffers? How good or bad they feel? That's (part of) what stopped me thinking I was clinically depressed when I was. Not having a point of comparison, even among people I hung out with and/or knew very well. As everyone's personal hell is their own, y'know...

Well I SLEPT 8 HOURS which was lovely. From about 6:30 to 2AM. OK probably 7 and a bit all told, and that... does it make up for last night's hardly any sleep? I dunno. I got up at 2am last night after taking the zopiclone late so I can't have got much more than an hour and a half sleep. I write down my sleep for this diary thing I WAS doing properly. Or going to to. You ALL won't remember; someone will.

O I hate going to doctors to describe how I am not how some physical ailment is affecting me. That's a headfucker if you think about it. Doesn't psychiatry mean "care for the soul". Does my soul need caring for? Shouldn't I myself do the caring? What can a headshrinker actually do for me? Apart from write down their medicalized version of how and who I am and think about prescribing drugs of their own. While telling me not to take ones obtained for FAR TOO MUCH MONEY from bastards on mountain bikes.

My phone is full of desperate text messages telling how THEIR gear is the best how one "runs" amazingly even though I'd never in a zillion years SMOKE THE CRAP. Unless it's H4 [for injection] I'm not in the remotest bit interested. H4 is pure white heroin hydrochloride. China White is still heroin. Heroin is shit. I wouldn't actually take heroin. But enjoy the oblique "your wares are shit" dig. Plus being way more knowledgeable than the idiot selling it. Surely if you're retailing you wanna know your product? But they don't. Hence the absolute SKANK sold during the worst part of this ongoing drought....

Khhh. My worker listened very closely when I described having once given up caffeine and cigarettes. Caffeine for more than a year. Cigs for at least 6 possibly as long as 9 months. And the mental persuasion entailed in dumping nicotine. My point was I was so intensely addicted to heroin none of that ever worked on me. Heroin was as intertwined round my soul as anything ever has been. Total and utter addiction. Never again!

And yes I do need to remember this. I'm the sort of bastard who doesn't recognize the same landscape in summer and winter. Message to self:~ Seasons change. No heroin in any season. Thank you.

I was so knackered today. I actually came down to the ground in the morning. Like coming home after a wild an whacky holiday (Vacation you Americans! Not Xmas hols)... yeah an adventurous holiday. Imagine sunning yourself on a beach on Ko Phi Phi, which is said to be sublime, somehow the walls of your own living room impinge into this scene and a sun-lounger turns into your own chair. Wow! Then I had a bit of coffee to get me through both these appointments and I was flying yummily again. On less coffee than most people take to get to Work!!! How amazing is that. Free illegal drugs in my coffee. Wow. Anyway I was so tired I was zombified on the outside, bizzy-buzzing on the inside. Which meant whenever anybody asked me a question I suddenly sprang to life and wouldn't stop rabbitting. Then stared into space again: wearied close to exhaustion. That's why I slept so very long, and it did feel like 18 hours, not just under 8... like when you wring out a sponge and wring and wring more and more water so I got all the sleep out of me I could. A nice good long lie in. Getting up early AM. Yeah I know it's stupid. It's also fantastic not to be addicted to sleep any more. Not the way I was. Not struggling to function on 10, 12, 14, 16 and even more hours. Get my attitude to sleep now? It hits me like a disease and I can't function through exhaustion, depression and sheer ukkhhh-ness. THIS is why I have a rave, an ongoing party when suddenly I'm OK, don't need DAYS of sleep don't need don't want get rid of my old shitty life... ukk. Live on fresh air! That's the ideal. Like a sky blue flower aginst a blue sky. Blue into infinite sunny blue and cool fresh air. I'd love to live in Switzerland, wouldn't you? OK I'm gonna leave it there else this will never get finished.

RESTFUL CLASSICAL MUSIC. OK the restful is sarcasm. Sometimes I am sarcastic you know. E.g. when I asked would a caramel cadbury's creme egg set me off hyper. I'm not the kind to get high off a red smartie you know. And as for caffeine... all it used to do was give insomnia and anxiety. Never got high off that cept when I was on Prozac or naturally high anyway (not drug high).


oh man: well you might like it, I'm saying nothing about this one

OK we're starting to go down a blind alley with this one but here:
05:04 finally got this to play properly: what an oppressive dirge! doesn't suit my mood at all. I far prefer that On With the Story Higher than the Eiffel track (look for a tiny little box, shrunken youtube screen last Sunday) for clish-clashing waves of music. Does anybody like this?:~~~~~

Illustrated: I was trying to find bindweed to illustrate heroin and me and that's the flower ~ WHAT AN AMAZING COLOUR BLUE! The bottom shows what bindweed actually does, view from a beach, Ko Phi Phi (Thailand) which is pronounced "pea pea"

Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Midnight Music

02:58 I've been up since just after 1am, meaning not much more than an hour or so's sleep. I need sleep (far as I understand it) not to set myself off more. Here are some lovely garage links for those into parking cars... the music [of today] is more reminiscent of the rave music of my youth, with a funkier beat on top. Quite good really. I prefer a lot of the newer stuff to the classic garage I've been posting up. If I can find a good tune or two I'll post it up.

GARAGE: this is the station I'm listening. With these things it's usually the later the better. When I woke up at midnight it was pssssht-ta-clonking pleasantly ~ Love FM Live

Melody here's that other garage track I was telling you about. I prefer the no-video version .... this classic track from the mid 90s doesn't have that rave-sound I'm talking about that's new; this is old


this is a funkier pirate radio edit, note the lovely authentic needle jump at the beginning!

bizarre track, excellent video "be careful if photosensitive epileptic!"
i love this

Old techno from the hardcore rave era. I used to love this: the quotes are from Shakespeare's King Lear

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Slept/drum & bass/jungle/hardcore/cleaning/shopping/etc

I THOUGHT I WAS running out of energy, having spent most of the night awake, then pinging down the chemist for my methadone, then going home, then having a black coffee for energy (physically tired), then another coffee, then having the most fun cleaning I've ever had in my life. Then feeling physically like I was on speed. Then feeling like I was going to have a panic attack.

Physically exhausted, I put myself to bed, saying "you are ill, and you are mentally ill, lie down, this will pass" ~ so I slept the expected two hours till it sounded like Loose Women or Doctors was on (different channels; couldn't have been both) ... I put the covers over me like a tent and slept some more, aching all over and genuinely feeling ill. Then I got up feeling so hungry I was sick. I seem to have lost a stone in weight: or the scales I found on the street were inaccurate. I've no idea. [One stone is 14 lbs or about 6.5kg.]

This evening I did some irritating little things I had to. Then shopping. Morrisons supermarket. Tex Mex pizza. Best ever. The self service till was like a robot at a hardcore rave. Please please scan (an) the next itemplease scan WAIT FOR AN ASSISTANT!!) lots of fun. And that pizza is amazing. I only had chips (which are Iceland American style curly fries (do they actually have curly fries in America? These are lovely). Then Holby City (hospital drama) came on. I missed EastEnders.

I'm scanning the radio for decent pirate stuff. The drum and bass they're playing sounds a good 17 years old! Proper Ragga Jungle. That's what I'm looking for.

Drink is down to 2 cans at 7.5% ABV ie 1 litre. It's up to 85p a can! Will this torment never cease??!! Nah, don't wanna be a drinker all my life. The alcohol is GOING!

Now I have to not drink coffee, which I appear to be hypersensitive to. I mean this was full on speeding on TWO cups normal one heaped teaspoon. Coffee has never been quite that strong before. I mean, this was physical, hence the anxiety. The highest hyper highs I have had have been totally out of sync with any coffee drinking. E.g. the Mental Hospital Day ~ hadn't had a cup for five hours. Had only had one or possibly two. Don't need caffeine. Nicotine has to go as well. Cigarettes are a terrible poison. Why should I be dependent on outside drugs to poison myself.

Now I have to finish what I barely started that is clearing crap I don't know what is relevant or not. No I'm not allowed a flamethrower, which would make clearing up far easier. Yeah yeah highly irresponsible I know so it's boring old chucking out. Let me indulge a fantasy once or twice. So now the hunt is on for Proper "Old Skool" as they call it to make me feel ancient (ie hardcore rave 1991, 1992) or Ragga Jungle (probably won't find that) or ancient sounding but probably modern rapid drum & bass with an overgrown schoolboy running out of rhymes on top.

Traaaaaaaa!!!! How are y'all. See I'm not irritably ranting tonight. Clean clean clean and cleaner. Clean me clean up. Live a clean life. Clean and Serene. That's me goal ;-)

21:29 London Radio: Eh, the Greek stuff ain't bad...
01:22 hrs Love FM Live .com (lovefmlive.com) good garage after midnight

A Sense of Responsibility

08:54 I DIDN'T SLEEP at all well last night, but officially got up around 5 or 6 or 7, after surfing the net in bed (as a way of falling asleep without knowing it, I wasn't surfing intensely I was pottering about blogs I should have been but have not been, in a highly random fashion. Which means I probably never got to any of y'all actually reading! Sorry. Seriously poor attention span going on here. Imagine taking a sound recording, razor editing to cut/cu-/-t/b-/-its/out it's kind of like that. Which means pictures can actually be easier to deal with than words. The sudden accelerations I had a few days ago have mostly gone, at least they're nowhere near as intense. Whenever something stressed me, or just because it happened, I had a feeling of foot on the accelerator and me flying into a vortex hyper-whirlwind thing which you could imagine as rapidly swirling letters of the alphabet, where sound and thought were one and the same. Which is why if you saw me doing that you'd probably think I'd gone truly cuckoo because I know there were times I was saying it. The only bad one (in a social sense) was when this is going on and the phone rings... ukkk I think I explained that one before. It was not good, not pretty, I'm not proud. I was trying, trying to keep a lid on my behaviour. I'd love to see what someone else would have done. I'm sure a lot of people would have done more of the yelling and less of the deliberate, conscious calming down.

I could have compared it to losing your temper, as that is intense; and you can cool down over the course of a few hours (if you really badly lose it, which I only remember doing once) but this is way more intense, hyper intense, more out of it by a factor of thousands. So the calming down involves a kind of detachment from something that is still going on to a near-infinitesimal degree and eventually you drift further apart and IT calms down (in a sense) after you do. I don't know whether I'm explaining well at all.

Today is my clean day which means I'm cleaning my house. I hadn't the focus to do that before. Bear in mind I was utterly dishevelled with random braids going down one side of my hair, where I'd distractedly plaited it as something to do. Had no clean clothes (and still really don't what I do have is badly handwashed: the laundrette is either too slow and too much just too much stuff going on to do and remember when I'm too intense, or a paranoia headfuck. The paranoia is easier to get through because when I feel that way I tend to be going slower. In the fast zones I feel fantastic and fantastical. No drug has ever lifted me that high. Ever. They call amphetamines "speed"...? Why? Nobody on speed is any faster than by maybe a factor of two or three. And the euphoria of speed, cocaine etc is kind of concentrated, like a golf ball or a tennis ball of white light. This is a beachball with more light, but the light can be slightly more diffuse, which makes you think there's less of it when there's still more. This is the difference. And as for speed, I don't ever remember not following people. Not like this. This has gone way beyond the Can't Be Bothereds into the Just Can'ts.

If I don't write this down I'll start kidding myself, later, that it somehow wasn't quite like this, the way it was. That this is an exaggeration. When I can witness now, this is the truth. And I accept it's not all pretty. I know I have been falling apart. (Why do you think I've been trying to get help?

Main reason for seeking help is because housing problems are reaching a peak and I need somebody who can vouch for me, somebody who knows each professional I'm in touch with. That's all I'm asking. A bit of link up for someone who's lost the links. Nobody can cure me. Nobody can sort out my life bar me. I never ever said that and if you think you read that I suggest you read wrong. Why do you think I hated being addicted to drugs so very much? I'm an INdependent person. Yes I might have aspects of me, just as there are aspects of you, that occasionally like to depend. But in heart and in spirit I'm not motivated by others' evaluation of me (I just try and be nice) and I don't like having other people running my life like I'm a 3 year old. Just remember there is nobody alive who has no responsibility.

Seriously ill people in hospital do fight for their lives. Fighting to stay alive, that is a responsibility. But you could look at somebody stretched out full of tubes and not there and secretly in some tiny way envy them because they're not subject to the stresses you are. Actually they might be subject to more.

Here endeth the Morning Proclamation!

5am Chocolate Recovery

CADBURY'S WHISPA (x2) and Yazoo chocolate milk (x1)... severe chocolate craving. Despite the pill I'm not sleeping, waking up for ages. Been surfing since sometime before 2am, intermittently sleeping, (absolutely impossible to fill out a sleep diary for tonight I haven't the faintest idea how many hours)...

The drinking is around 3 cans per day at 7.5% alcohol in 500ml cans. I'm not "out of it" because I'm "drunk"; "alcohol is a depressant" as they loved to tell me. So not being depressed at all, being the opposite of depressed, I should be able to guzzle as much as I like, shouldn't I??! Or they shouldn't patronize us with such an obvious semantic "terminological inexactitude". Yeah I know I shouldn't drink. If I didn't think that I'd drink a hell of a lot more.

It takes some edge off me. Me who I am supposed to be (at last). You see inside every white mouse is a tigress roaring to get out. That's what my thought pattern was doing yesterday. Not me speaking in my head. Me ROARING in my head. I felt pretty hyped up, pretty good. I'd rather be a tigress than a tiger. You can have cute baby... cubs! That's the word. And aren't tiger cubs the cutest! Also tigresses are fiercer than tigers. What's the metaphor for fierce? Tigress, not tiger.

I've no idea what NA made of yesterday's speech except some scattered titters of laughter at the funny bits. Better than the reaction I got last week when I started ROARING. A jolt went through that room. That's the point, I wasn't "roaring" at all. I use that word in exaggeration and retrospect. I was merely making my point in a restful, easy manner.

But the woman I was next to, a reformed heavy pothead, is one of the kindest, brightest spirits I have met in that association (if I'm any judge of character: we've never conversed; I've only heard her share). I don't want her wary of me.

Now I'm going to have to go round making mental notes of damage to repair. Slight damage. Another way of repairing damage is by having a nice attitude. That one might do more. I say having... attitude rather than "being nice" I don't want merely to be as in being for a moment; I want to BECOME the best person I can be. And being on gear was scuppering that one constantly.

It also totally messed up any attempt at self-help. I mean the type of help discussed in self-help books, which in my view, if taken with a reasonable dose of perspective and moderation can actually help one affect constructive changes in one's life. I saw my existence as a means of change. Never wanted to be the same person at the end of a year as at the beginning. Wanted to be better. Gear messed all that up.

It's hard to say what heroin did to me that was negative, bar the obvious cliches.
What did it do? It blanketed my feelings, which I'm beginning to see might have been more intense than I realized. No not all the time but I look back and see myself at various times and think hmmmmmmm what was going on there? So it was self-medication as the clinic told me (not my expression)
I got heavily addicted. I cannot imagine being more addicted to that drug than I was at the peak. I relied on it utterly, not for happiness so much as bearability through life. To sleep, to get up, to eat I most definitely needed gear. It would feel weird, if I let it, eating without having a hit first.
What else did it do? Well something eroded my self-esteem like nothing else. So badly, at one point I had barely any left
It made me homeless
It killed my friends
The whole situation made me feel hopeless and I had no life to go back to and I hated the world we live in. Not strong ingredients for a good recovery.

Which is one reason I am not giving up on NA. My interpretation of their Ways is given below, one thing I've heard said a few times goes along the lines "my friend hasn't got a programme, but my friend isn't an addict"... in other words the friend is worse off, poorer than the Recovering Addict. Because Recovery means everything else good apart from just not taking drugs. That's what Recovery is. Recovery. It's what I want...

...this lot tend to get left out of early 90s compilations, nostalgia etc. theirs was by far the best non-ravey dancey pop of the time.... as an "art experience" they also burned £1,000,000 cash they'd made

A 99 is vanilla ice cream with a stick of chocolate flake shoved in at a jaunty angle...

the proper video this time, Melody

this is faster, the much more like original pirate radio mix

Valerie's Prison Diary

AUSTRALIA'S "CRUELLY IMPRISONED" HOUSEWIFE CHINA WHITE QUEEN, major supplier of Heroin to all of Down Under including New Zealand, has been tapping those blackberry keys in the direction of Anna Grace, her "partner in international narcotic crime"! Part of what she's doing is thanking Anna for a 6-kg "loan" of Colombian White Heroin. Here's the jizz:~

Valerie said...
Anna, Sweetness

Are you seriously after a bare-ass spanking? Me with my pingpong bat? Post some new revelations from the Dark Side of the Gear Spoon.

Listen honey you're doing that poor little mite Gledwood's head in here. Every fucking message that tosser writes comes up on MY blackberry now how wires got that badly crossed I haven't a clue, now it won't stop chirping at me all hours like a deranged cicada!

Well it's all news from here in Sydney Women's Punishment Centre. We're being punished so severely we're off our tits on China White and Crack. Constantly. At least I am, as I'm the Fucker in charge here.

Ho Ling is Dealer to the Stars. She actually shots the deals out. Fat Trish holds on to a lot of shit that isn't stored in Ho-Ling's filing cabinet of private parts. Do you know she even seems to have BOOK SHELVES up there..??! You say "listen honey, here's the gear, here's the crack, here's the sleepers, here's the whacko stuff (got in a few designer drugs to perk up our Dull as Dishwater evenings)... say "oh Sweetness, 2 pieces H, one crack, a rohypnol and a Blue Mystic and there they are before you can say "cockadoodle-do!" she's produced 'em from her "tuppence". That's what me old ma used to call me private parts when I was little. Ho Ling can carry several million units of LSD from a minor European country to here in that Wonderworld of hers, but she's very angry I even suggest the idea so THAT one's out (till Ho Ling's desperate for a year's constant supply China White heroin + yummy coke!)

Now Baby on to your shit. Honey you're back using again; shit happens.

Are you really unhappy about it? Or just unhappy being slammed for telling us?

January 24, 2011 6:54 PM

Valerie said...
That might make a one of those delicious posts of yours. Your attitude to heroin. Mine goes: take as much as you possibly can each and every day. Life's too short. Cracked off ya tits feels wonderful. Which is why when I'm at home with Brucey the little darlings actually live in a separate dwelling next door with their Chinese nanny. Takes the stress off our constant piping if ya know what I mean.

Plus it gives us REALLY WELL EDUCATED kids: they're fluent in Chinese!

Barely speak a word of English, mind. Chinese they can do marvellously well. So the future of Double UO Globules for future generations of Australian fuck-ups looks pretty wonderful.

Thanks for the six kilos Colombia's best Poppy Power. I'll reimburse ya with 10 units 999 or Double Lion, take ya pick. 10 units is seven keys so I'm giving you one extra honey-buns.

Your Mr Kim is doing extraordinarily well, pottering innocently about in that minefield-protected hut, humming incomprehensible Singaporean Chinese pop songs as he effortlessly transforms dodgy H3 into yummy A Grade China White Heroin!

I've had a little taste. A few tastes even and darling: Best Batch we've had in ages!

Thank you so much.

And re that $25 million US don't worry. I'm 17 million euros better off thanks to a little scheme I'd better not get too into here. Something to do with an Ecstasy Factory in a former Soviet Republic making an absolute fortune for ME ME ME ME ME!!!

They don't call me Queen of E for nothing (let alone China White!!)

Now I'm off for fucking lunch with 3 bitches who hate me. Something to do with my having gone for one with a certain sawn-off domestic implement and having told the other two they'd wait for later.

The Governor's being Real Nice to me these days since that half mil US in bribe dollars hit her offshore account. Finally the bitch is stressing less. Less stress for her means less stress for me. She's even letting me browse the old WWW from her swivel chair when she's home for the night (which is a sadly late hour, often past 10pm since the sad fucker hasn't a life).

Now Anna post some delicious details of your funky life. For me. For that fucker Gledwood if you have to. For yourself to "say where you've been" as Gledster puts it. (Been in too much counselling that one: know that bullshit when I hear it.)

Now on with the story Sweet Pea. On with the story. On on on.



January 24, 2011 6:54 PM

Monday, January 24, 2011

NA Serenity

I HAVE JUST COME BACK FROM NARCOTICS ANONYMOUS I will keep coming back. I explained my interpretation of the 12 steps, which are ways of shedding guilt, bad habits and excusese and making you a better person than when you went On Drugs. I said I came to NA for serenity. And I said I had been taking heroin as self-medication, that crack made me a mess, that I was very reluctantly taking methadone (and nothing else) and that taking illegal drugs is putting your happiness in the hands of a cunt on a mountain bike. I hope they get my point.

I don't do group hugs. Done them before, they do my head in. Eeeee was the "hug drug" so "hugs not drugs" means... confusion for me.

Gotta go wash again. Twice a day. With a bowl of hot water. I'm allergic to showers when the stupid showerhead won't stay where it's meant to be so you can't just Walk Under Hot Rain you gotta hold the stupid thing doing a bowl of water instead. Yeah I'm a living breathing 38 year old 3 year old. Got that bad. Least I'm attempting to take care of myself now. Someone has to, that someone has to be me.

Right I'm off, take care everyone ;-)

you have to let this one get going.... THANKS BUGGALUGZ!!

... reminds me of this one...
PINK FLOYD SHINE ON YOU CRAZY DIAMOND... Syd Barrat tribute. Syd Barrett who blew his brains out on LSD... bloody hell this is slow. In drugs terms, spliff-tokers' music ;-)

this one's bigger because the pictures change slide-show style... it's the original album version

Just another Anic Monday


I slept for hours and hours till 3am then answered Buggalugz'z commment. Buggalugz has hammies. Robohammies, like I used to until they died and went into a cardboard box.

I slept for hours and hours got up 10:41 can't tell how many hours as kept waking up when it was dark, raving in my sleep, waking up again, feeling like I was on an adventure holiday, acheing all over wondering if I'd fallen off a horse, gone skiiing where did I get all these aches and pains? What have I been doing. Oh yeah I'm "ill" people who are "sick" lie in bed so that's what I did lay in my huge hammynest.

Then I got up fully engergized so energized I couldn't keep still at the pharmacy, had to walk half a mile and come back because Methadone Bird was being slow slow. Where did I go? Alcohol shop. Then I went home. Washed me. O yeah that was before the methadone. I did the hot moving bowl of water by the door thing. Space by the door. Slow slow careful wash of entire body head to toes. I know it's not as good as showering but there is no bath and a bath gets you clean when you lie there an hour and towel down all that skin comes off. Never happens in a shower. Showers make me so bright red from all the scrubbing then it hurts. Prefer a bath, me. So I washed, did that, then DOWN THE NEEDLE EXCHANGE with one black sack full of crapparse tiny sinbins and another bag with a tower-block shaped yellow one. No-one paying attention. One pharmacist talking crap about grams and drams someone else taking a shelf apart. Spare me. I left them at the till and vanished. So done that. Needles gone. Wahay!!!

I saw Valium Marilyn as she's intent upon obtaining Valium, I said I only wanted zopiclone. I am prescribed zopiclone. Zopiclone makes me sleep. I don't WANT to abuse drugs, why the hell should i?

I felt better today than any other day. Finally I am at a level. Although my head WAS bingbongtingtonging I was able to play with it and not get sucked into it, the way it does when foot is on the accelerator: instead of wind in the hair it's into a sound-vortex. Ultra-intense. Now I'm flying high and clear. Way better than before. My body is sore but I don't care for a body.

I gotta clean something up for someone else. Doing it in my own time, not out of time. Wednesday is a big day. Wednesday I'm going away to a psycho doctor and a psycho headshrinking thing. That's my big day. Tomorrow is Clean Day.

And I'm fine. I don't want to come down down down I will only frown frown frown and be a total waste of space. Waste of time. Why don't the government kill addicts and mentally ill people? They could save a fortune in taxes? I'd vote for myself to be killed. Never mind generalizations, I'm talking about me here. I'd vote for that. Would have voted for it over methadone, any day of the week. Less EXTENDED TORMENT involved. Ah! But they want us alive and suffering, so we do ourselves. That's probably it. I'm glad the Tories are in, at least I can call them Tory Bastards, even though I HATE LABOUR MORE and would NEVER IN A ZILLION YEARS VOTE LIBDEM. I hate all politicians. I'm the archetypal floating voter. Too central. Love saying "Tory BASTARDS" not voting. If forced to I vote green (who I loathe, when I look at their jealous, sour policies whether or not they're out for saving the planets they hate people who want to be Rich and Behind High Walls (only point I can see of being rich: cut yourself off from the world). So that's my views on politics. Be rich. Pay low taxes. Give money to charity. Choose your own charity and do not be taxed. And have an NHS that is the national health service, free for all.

{If I were actually tied down and forced to vote I'd give 3 Xs before I voted green, green is a v distant "if I absolutely have to" choice politicians deserve... lots of things I won't mention here... They SHOULD INSTITUTE THE UNIVERSAL PRESCRIPITON OF INJECTABLE DIAMORPHINE TO ADDICTS for one thing...}

That's it bye!!

Music comes later.

Illustrated: tiny furry robo (roborovski) hammy; tired yawning tiger; psychedelic psycho-tiger ~ this one forgot its methadone and the pharmacy's pretending to be closed. Note the missing bottom right tooth.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

8:40PM Calm

IT'S MID EVENING. I am trying to remain calm. I know I was ranting like anybody's business this morning and part of this afternoon. Feeling very euphoric and "grandiose"!! Yeah!! Fantastic in other words. Way better than I did any other day. Higher, yet clearer. And less bizzledizzle in the head (I can say that without my head going fizzle dizzle wizzle hizzle) OK it just did, but at a far lower grade. I didn't go into a vector cyclone thing where it takes me off like a helecopter flying into a spiral and out the other side, then touching down on top of all that energy, looking down on everything. On top of the Universe. That feels pretty good.

I'm half tempted to give a list of drugs I didn't take to get there. I do need to make one point clearer. If I mention my experience in terms of drugs or psychedelics, those are merely terms of reference. I never ever was an addict to those substances. I'd done heroin more times in my first month of heavy using (not my first month of using) than I ever did Es, trips and all else in my life. You need to get in perspective the AMOUNT of something taken and the IMPACT it has on you. Heroin has had near-zero impact. It only ever took stuff away. Gave me very little. Psychedelics give. Ecstasy gives. Whether the giving is good I'm not going into here, and I do have a policy of not condoning drug use. Describing, yes, condoning. NO! Live your life, do not use. I cannot think of a single chemical I truly think was "worth it". My biggest recurring dream re drugs was of temazepam, which used to come in yellow (or dark green) eggs full of gel (or liquid). I dreamed of rugby ball (that is an American football) sized yellow ones. I only ever took temazepam in the early 90s that was prescribed to me. So I was dreaming of my own sleep medication which my own doctor, who was the best GP I've ever had (had a rolling once a week appointment with him, that's why I wasn't raving ALL THE TIME back then I was really badly in a mess. The music was a soundtrack, I indulged occasionally, it made a big impression, I indulged again in the late 90s when I was more together, it still made me a mess, I don't do it now) ~ that's me and raving, Eeeeing, clubbing, party drugging. Yes I did it every week for a short while maybe a year or so. So when I feel really good of course I'm going to think of E, the drug which made me feel "like I'd finally found the pot of gold at the rainbow's end". Ecstasy also made me feel lied to. Like nothing else, including heroin, ever has. And I have also spent days lying in bed crying because I felt lied to, let down, and that the people who seemed so nice were themselves on E, I was myself, but we all had issues, sometimes deep-cut horrifying ones and I mean other people, not me that horrified me who didn't need horrifying. And the whole thing turned out into a mess with me hallucinating a good 24 hours after the last pill which MDMA doesn't do, I was scoring the same pills off the same dealer as everyone else. And I wasn't the only one cracking up and not coping come Monday morning. It was horrible to see. When I realized the truth, the real truth about clubbing, beyond the obvious fact that these were young people pretty badly overdoing it in some cases (not mine ~ I was just doing it and the little I did, usually no more than 2 pills... except the very end when it went past 5 then 8... that was over... 4 occasions ie 2, 2.5...2.5 (shit I'm lying I did 1.5 then 1 ie 10 pills=4nights out) ... and I was very well organized re timing etc. When I didn't want to take it I didn't take anything. Or a tiny handful of mushrooms. So few I wasn't "tripping" just had a euphoria you get off a tiny mushroom dose but not acid.

I can't even remember where I was going with this, and Im not spending all evening editing and obsessing. Other people can obsess if/when they want to. I'm not as obsessive as some people seem to think. I have ASPECTS that are.

Hey I found a different tune. It's slow. It kind of makes me want to cry. I don't want to cry about anything. Never cry about myself, it always mystifies me when people cry because they ... whatevered. Tears of giult I can understand. Crying because you hurt someone, I understand. Ha! Do you know what actually healed a lot of my friendships (in retrospect) was me crying when we were yelling at one another. These were friendships/relationships with the opposite sex. Didn't realize at the time they were probably touched.

When my friend Lucky died I felt nothing for a whole month. Didn't go to the funeral. I was in a mess. Had nothing to wear. Didn't want to face people I didn't know who knew her who knew when..? Banging on about her. She fell into frienships with the opposite sex that weren't sexual (or weird) she was nearly 60 they were probably late 20s or in their 30s and they did crack and heroin round at hers. Lucky's flat was a safe, quiet, peaceful place to go. I deliberately kept some distance as her friends seemed to last a certain time then vanish. (She was an addict: an expert at self-confusion.) Then she died, suddenly. It wasn't an overdose, she just dropped down dead, in front of someone else. The paramedics couldn't save her. She always thought she was invincible but I remember myself dragging her from her bathroom after she overdosed. The jolt woke her up, but in those moments she was gone. If you don't take overdose seriously you really are a fool. Anyway a month later I ran into her old friend who showed me the Order of Service from the funeral. I suppose the fact that he was carrying it on him said a lot. And then I cried. And cried and cried and cried and cried. I have never cried so much over anyone I knew. I hope wherever you are you feel flattered Lucky. I cried for you.

I wanna contact the living... not sure I understand this road I've been given...
that's it!

ps if you wonder why the unedited rants, if i tidy up when i'm extreme i'll get lost in the words, if i wait till a time like now: I'll make my own witness statement to myself into a lie, so I can't do it. The "worst" stuff IS who I WAS who I AM who I BECOME when I am like THAT.

Thanks Lizzie. For everything.



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