I feel like shit, but I’m not going to bitch about it, much.
Oh yeah by the way did I mention I typed this same story, only much better, yesterday and it disappeared because of a button being bumped? So this version sucks compared to the version of this story that is now gone forever.
We went to Krist’s graduation in the capitol. It was held in a huge brick building with large metal doors. Heather and me walked in with Krist and then we had to go wait for an hour. She neglected to read the sign that was on every door that said, “PLEASE CLOSE THE DOORS SLOWLY!” Heather just let the damn thing go. Normally I’d have done the same but in my confused state I put my hand up to stop it, not realizing the door weighed a ton. It smashed my right index finger and I got an bad blood blister. Good thing the opiates made it feel like it was just a little pressure. Heather and me walked around the downtown and looked for a place to eat. “This isn’t a city, there aren’t any fast food places around here.” She went into some place and got a donut and I got a napkin to wipe up the blood from my finger.
After a while we went back and met up with Krist. The ceremony began and Heather and me went in and sat down. I had entered the alien world. When you disassociate yourself from white upper-middle-class Christians you don’t think about those idiots so much. When you are thrown into a hurricane of them it becomes overwhelming. They had some fat ugly whore deliver a speech about how she became addicted to pain killers she was prescribed. Later she went to rehab and got addicted to heroin. The story ended with her washing away any self-responsibility by finding “god” and going to a 2-year college. Big fuckin’ deal. I hate those fuckin’ stories. She didn’t have the fucking balls to take any responsibility for herself so instead of taking the blame she turned to an imaginary being. They gave a couple prayers and had some patriotic bullshit that everyone was supposed to stand for but me and Heather didn’t bother, which is funny since Heather is a half-assed catholic. We sat there tinkering with our digital cameras while everyone else talked to themselves (prayed). Self-responsibility, Reason, and Common Sense, the ultimate enemies of organized religion. Afterwards I grabbed a bunch of cookies since I couldn’t find a McDonalds and we went to a party. I only drank a couple beers because I was still under the effects of the opiates. I smoked with one of Krist’s friends and him and Heather stole a bottle of vodka from the place since he hated most of the people there. Then we left and I think Krist was a little surprised that night because his parents didn’t come.
I was out of opiates for a day and a half and I nearly went nuts. Sedatives eased that and then I got a hold of people to buy morphine and profited from that by pocketing a few of the pills. Today won’t be so bad now.
The Sick Life 
August 11, 2006 at 11:29 pm |
Your journalistic style makes a lot of sense to me. I like how it flows and I can picture the things you are doing easily in my head. And the different subtleties in taking methadone versus sedatives and the combinaton of chemicals. I wish I could get a Fentanyl patch or at least Tussionex. I’m trying to quit (as you probably read in my journal) and all I have is some methadone and 120 norcos. If I don’t go slow the norcos will be gone in a week. On a good day the methadone acts on me as if I am drunk, and i am more talkative than if I were on OC’s. I’m sure that middle class kids given instant and powerful company jobs from the frats they were in ocassionaly stumble upon your entries and it makes them feel like voting for Bush. I shouldn’t be bitter against them but those people plague me. There is so much about the world that makes less sense. I wish the junkies I met in Seattle werent such assholes. It has made me like myself less than normal.