Stay Tuned

Hey if anyone still reads this, stay tuned, I’ve been really, really busy lately and besides that I’ve been having some computer trouble. I have some good stories to tell, I promise to post them by the end of the week!

2007 New Year’s Morning

It’s been a while since I’ve written but I’ll start writing more soon. I came up with an idea for a weird novel; I might start to work on that too. It’s a new year and hopefully I’ll get out of this place and on methadone and get a job or go to college, in that order. After an unsuccessful attempt to taper off of buprenorphine I basically stayed with methadone, oxycodone, and morphine. I tried some liquid instant release oxycondone. It was cherry flavored and me and Krist filled shot glasses up with it and took a few. It was alright, I think the dosing was something like 5mg/ml.

Lyrica was a new drug I tried a couple times recently. It is similar to the neuropathic pain drug neurontin. It seemed kind of like a barbiturate or benzodiazepine. The first time I tried one 150mg capsule and took it while my methadone dose was wearing off. I had also been taking 50-100mg of hydroxyzine as a potentiator as I had found a bottle and had read that this antihistamine, which is also a sedative and anxiolytic drug, highly potentiates methadone. At least it makes me nod a bit more. Anyways, later that night I felt slightly uncoordinated and a bit drunk. The next time I tried 300mg, again after my methadone dose was wearing off. It could probably be useful as an opioid potentiator. I drank three beers and this time I really got tired and felt very, very dizzy. I smoked some weed on top of it and I would get these dizzy head rushed. Later I went and laid down in bed and when I would close my eyes I could see weird and strange visualizations. The dizziness combined with that made for a really weird almost overwhelming experience. It has amnesiac qualities similar to ativan or Ambien for example. I’ve read some people describe it as a cross between MDMA and GHB. I wonder if it is anything at all like qualuudes, one pill I never got to try. Krist had come over after I passed out. I only vaguely remembered this the next day when he came over and told me he was there that night. “You came over last night?!”

“Yeah you got up and smoked a cigarette and said you felt really dizzy. I asked why you were dizzy and you said it was some pill you took. What’s it called?”

“Lyrica.”

“Yeah, you said a couple things and your head hit the pillow and you were right back out. I asked for the remote and you got up for a second, said you were dizzy again, and passed back out. Then when I went to leave you got back up and asked “why, what are you doing?””

In Limbo

There are people, things, and places where you’re always welcome, if you have money. I really hate people that act like money is so important. Not that I don’t like money, but some people assign more value to it than it’s really worth.

Heather stopped over saying she was sick. She had been a good friend of mine for years. I offered her a few bupes on the house because I actually believed her. “No I don’t like them but can you get oxys?” I sold her an oxy 40 but she spilled it while she was cutting out lines. She scraped some of it up and did it. During this time I was waiting on a friend to stop by and pick me up to hang out for the night. She came over and I came out to tell her to wait one second while I say goodbye to my friend but she said, “I can’t wait any longer!” I couldn’t get Heather out in time and my friend said, “I’ll call you later I guess.” While I was downstairs Heather had she stole 5 bupes from me. I only noticed because she put them back in the wrong place. When I went to look for them later they weren’t there and I drove all the way up to Heather’s house, which is about a half hour away.

She lived outside a city in the middle of nowhere. It took a while to find her house only because I took a different highway and it was pitch black. I took the wrong exit and missed the road to turn on the first time but I got there finally and walked down the driveway. I came to the door and did a semi-loud knock a few times. A few seconds later she came to the door.

“Hey what’s up? How’d you get here?”

“Hey, I’d like my bupes back.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about, I’m not stupid. You were the only person that was over today. Don’t be like this, I’ve known you forever and I’ve never done anything like this to you. I’ve never fucked you over.” It really pissed me off because of the fact that I had offered her a couple free. As I was on my way there I had thought she had taken the whole bottle and went and sold them for dope money.

She started to get upset and cry. She said she was sorry and how she hated the way she was acting, stealing from her friends and her parents. Her father was a politician and was running for office, I figured if all else failed I could try and ruin his political career. But I didn’t have to. Heather was honest. She said she had 2 left but that she would pay me back and then I started telling her about how many there were and then she said she only took 5. “I took 3 and I have 2 left.” At first I didn’t believe her but then she explained she must have set them somewhere else. At first I didn’t believe her but I figured she was telling the truth because I didn’t really look around for them. She went in and gave me the 2 and some bupropion and candy and went on about how she really wanted to repay me. “You don’t have to I would have given them to you anyways if you had asked.” So she apologized and we talked for a little bit and she said she’d hook me up with some dope next time I saw her. “You know if you would’ve put them back in the same exact place I would’ve never noticed.” I went home and found them, she was being honest with me.

Lately I had been doing a lot of methadone and morphine and smoking good weed with it. There were 30mg and 60mg kadians, a little bit expensive but worth it. I had also been using bupes off and on. I tried taking tramadol with it and it seemed to potentiate it a bit. Maybe it’s because tramadol only partially agonizes the mu receptor (but it is not a partial antagonist!) or maybe it’s from the effects it has on Serotonin and norepinephrine. It definitely seemed to give me more of an effect. Several tries later proved to be disappointing, so maybe they don’t potentiate it much. The first time I tried bupe was years ago. I took half of an 8mg one I think. Felt like a strong dose of codeine or a decent dose of hydrocodone. Now I barely felt anything from it. The first day I tried it again I took 32mg and I got a little headache and a weird feeling in my head. When I took a few days off and took 16mg with the ultram I felt a little bit more than last time. I’m not sure if I should taper down with bupe and see if I can get off for a little bit, maybe just to lower my tolerance but also to see if I can live without it. I’m not so sure of buprenorphine’s analgesic effects yet. A lot of people with little to no experience with opiates get sick and throw up like they took a lot of oxycodone or something.

I was fucked. In a fucked situation. I had been using methadone and other stuff for so long that I couldn’t even feel buprenorphine. Now I just don’t feel sick and that’s not helping like a good dose of methadone would. While reading about buprenorphine online I read about some people who had mixed their buprenorphine with tramadol and felt it had made a stronger effect. Tramadol might just only be a partial mu agonist, if that’s true it may potentiate buprenorphine, but it is definitly not a partial agonist-antagonist, this is why you can use ultram with other opiates. I’m not sure if the tramadol helped or not but I tried the mix a few times. The first time I felt it may have done something but the second time I couldn’t tell. Tramadol is also an SNRI and dopamine reuptake inhibitor. If you have a tolerance you won’t feel tramadol but it may be useful as a potentiator and it’s definitly useful for withdrawal symptoms. The first dose I took was 32mg, then I tried 24, then 20mg, then 16mg. The first couple times I got a headache and a weird sensation in the top of my skull. After that dose I didn’t feel anything from the buprenorphine except minimal withdrawal relief. People with little to no experience with opiates find buprenorphine just as wonderful as oxycodone except it seems to produce slightly more nausea, but those freaks who never use get sick on codeine anyways. Always shot down on at our lowest moments. It seems some people get to a point where they want off junk but I have not come to that point and can’t see myself ever coming to that point. Now that I finally have an opportunity to do a buprenorphine taper I find myself taking methadone and morphine and oxycodone and then waiting a few days and trying to get high off the bupe, knowing I won’t feel a damn thing. Not this time, not the next time, and never unless I take a serious break. So maybe I should do the taper and take a break. But then what? Deal with the pointless world and it’s pointless people doing pointless things? That does not sound like fun.

The War Scam

Well it seems the global war on terror and the war on drugs have joined together. 9/11 was not just a good excuse for imperialists to go to war with Iraq and make threats to other shitty countries with dictators, it was an excuse to fight the drug war on foreign soil again.

I’ve always supported the war in Afghanistan. The US was attacked by terrorists who had trained in Afghanistan, and the fascist Islamic state of the Taliban allowed them to train there. The Taliban did a lot of shitty things, any political party that bases their philosophy on religion is doomed to be shit. They shit on civil rights, destroyed ancient statues because they weren’t Islamic, they even stockpiled opium and then banned it in a pathetic attempt to raise the price of the opium they had stockpiled. (Of course this didn’t work because others stepped up and filled the hole in the market the Taliban tried to create.) So there was an evil regime and we had a right to take them down this time. But Afghanistan is not a new front. Afghanistan is an old land and it seems as if it’s been in an eternally constant state of war. The Soviet’s had their Vietnam in Afghanistan and we fought the Soviets there like they fought the US in Vietnam. The US, Pakistan, China, and other countries covertly supported the Afghani resistance groups that would later go on to double cross the US. Clinton shot tomahawk missiles at training camps in Afghanistan in the late 90s. A lot of us thought modern warfare would be nuclear, or at least fought with smart bombs and missiles. But modern warfare isn’t all that modern. It’s Vietnam all over again. Proxy guerilla warfare is modern warfare.

Somehow the war on terror was perverted by the war on drugs. NATO troops could have better spent their time in Afghanistan hunting down the Taliban and Al Quaida in the mountains near the Pakistan border. Instead, they concentrated their efforts on harassing destitute opium farmers, now they are facing an insurgency like they are fighting in Iraq.

Fox News reported the other day of an island off of Venezuela where terrorists were being trained to speak Spanish and how to fit in with Mexican immigrants. They feared that drug smugglers would help transport terrorists for Chavez or some crazy shit like that. And the only proof Fox News had was that 2 people from Pakistan, and men from Iraq, Afghanistan, and China had been arrested in Texas during the past 4 months with Venezuelan documents. Now it sounds far fetched for a reason and that is because it is. But we all know that blatant lies can be effectively used as excuses to go to war. There are no sources for any of this information; at least I couldn’t find any. Then there are the reports that Bin Laden was interested in poisoning the cocaine supply. And the reports that North Korea makes a fortune on drugs, which is probably true to a point. All of these stories could be used to increase the spending of money and lives for the war on terror and the war on drugs. It doesn’t matter if any of the allegations are true or even realistic.

It all seems to melt together. Different wars that are basically the same. Proxy wars, guerilla wars. The Korean War, The Vietnam War, the Soviet-Afghan war, Chechnya, Bay of Pigs, Grenada, etc. I could go on and on. Today instead of countries fighting over communism they are fighting over terrorism and drugs. It seems the big countries realized they have too many nuclear weapons to directly fight with each other.

Legalize drugs so the big pharmaceutical companies are making the money from drugs then terrorists won’t be able to make a cent from them.

Back to Bliss

“Most people don’t know how they’re gonna feel from one moment to the next. But a dope fiend has a pretty good idea. All you gotta do is look at the labels on the little bottles.” –Bob, Drugstore Cowboy

“A pill to make you numb
A pill to make you dumb
A pill to make you anybody else”
-Marilyn Manson, Coma White

Luck can change fast and that is what happened to me, I was very happy and high again. 60mg of methadone and 40mg of oxycodone. The oxys were easy and cheap to get again, for now anyways. Earlier in the week I got to get 7 percocets, a 5mg methadone, and an ativan, and also got some Ritalin off Tate. Drank a lot and got some weed. Things were looking great. I started to write more and I was hanging out with my new friend more. Me and this girl managed to drink an entire bottle of 101 proof whiskey the other week and we did a lot of methcathinone. I don’t think she did enough to feel very speedy but she didn’t get sick from drinking and I didn’t even feel drunk. Jane the nurse hung out with us too. That week I extracted a benzedrex inhaler and boiled some of the water off on the stove set on low. It seemed to work pretty good for OTC stuff. Wish I could’ve been around to try the old benzedrex inhalers with d-amphetamines in it. The new stuff is pretty much amphetamine except it has a cyclohexyl group instead of a phenyl group, making it technically not even a phenethylamine in structure; but enough about the structure over the counter speed.

Now I have my doses, or at least today I do. And for at least today I have some money and some weed and I should be able to make a couple bucks too. Living for today. Here and now. Better than nowhere never. Sitting on my friend’s couch I faded out of consciousness and into numbness and death. It was beautiful; it was itchy and warm just like the old days. So many days off and maintaining on percs, oxys, and tramadol lowered my tolerance. Now I was back where I belonged.

I didn’t need people, I had everything I needed in my body, and I was myself again. People are alright but they are no substitute for drugs. People are drugs, feelings are drugs, our experience and perceptions are drugs, or I should say, the effects of drugs. Internal biochemicals, neurotransmitters, peptides, they are all endogenous drugs, the drugs from within. When you fall in love, or out of love for that matter, you get a dose of a drug cocktail. Maybe some endorphins, enkephalins, dopamine, adrenaline, some combination of the sort. The pleasure of fucking and orgasms is the natural equivalent of a shot. The pleasure of anything, of eating something you like, of talking to a friend, of fucking someone, of watching TV, of laughing, they are all sensations created by the release of chemicals from within as a response to stimulus from the senses.

So maybe addicts have advanced past our primitive selves. Maybe we are gods. We know how we will feel and what we like to feel and we know we can feel any way we want to feel whenever we wish to. We simply need to buy the right drugs and take the right doses at the right times and we will achieve any feelings or sensations we are looking for. As for me, I am looking for pleasure. Release, escape, relief.

“Well, to begin with, nobody, and I mean nobody, can talk a junkie out of using. You can talk to ‘em for years but sooner or later they’re gonna get ahold of something. Maybe it’s not dope. Maybe it’s booze, maybe it’s glue, maybe it’s gasoline. Maybe it’s a gunshot to the head. But something. Something to relieve the pressures of their everyday life, like having to tie their shoes.” –Bob, Drugstore Cowboy

Stop making sense! Most people do not make sense to me. They worry so much about the other monkeys around them and what people think of them. They lie and cheat all in a game of making friends and fucks. The whole game is something I won’t play. I don’t fit in with people. An addict doesn’t need friends, he doesn’t need girlfriends, and he doesn’t need family. The only people an addict needs are the dealers and when we become our own dealers we become independent of the outside world. I wish I were totally independent. That’s not to say I don’t enjoy the company of people at all, I’m just totally autistic when it comes to society. Not very good at carrying on a conversation or what to say in response to people. Maybe it’s because I don’t care about the stupid shit most people care about. Maybe it’s because I don’t share the same suicidal goals. The same goals. Get a good job and find someone to fuck and reproduce and get old and retire and die. These aren’t things an addict or a space traveler care about but if it’s your thing that’s alright, it’s just not the way I want to kill myself.

Don’t get the wrong impression. Things are going great so far this week. And if it weren’t for some very nice people I wouldn’t be doing so well.

Death Machine

“A lot o’ people don’t realize what’s really going on. They view life as a bunch o’ unconnected incidents ‘n things. They don’t realize that there’s this, like, lattice o’ coincidence that lays on top o’ everything. Give you an example; show you what I mean: suppose you’re thinkin’ about a plate o’ shrimp. Suddenly someone’ll say, like, plate, or shrimp, or plate o’ shrimp out of the blue, no explanation. No point in lookin’ for one, either. It’s all part of a cosmic unconciousness.” –Miller, Repo Man

Things follow certain patterns. Sometimes you can tap into the pattern and recognize it. The plate of shrimp effect, think of a plate of shrimp and out of nowhere you’ll hear plate or shrimp. It’s like when someone you were just thinking of calls you up on the phone. Telephone telepathy. Not that there’s any truth to this bullshit but it makes you think. Sometimes maybe that people are watching you.

Things were getting to me. Things that normally wouldn’t even register as a problem in my mind. It must be too much time without medication. The pain of being conscious. Not that the medicine is an escape, it’s a life enhancer, mood enhancer.

About a month ago, I remember talking to Krist, explaining to him that I was just about to actually go through with killing myself. That it was being sober that pushed me to this. You know you need drugs when the very feeling of being sober, being “normal,” causes you to feel life is no longer worth living.

I hung out with some friends, some old, most new. Drank on top of 80mg of methadone and methcathinone. We smoked some weed. Drank more. Listened to people bitch about useless things. People bitching that only some people talk about other people and while they say this in the next sentence continue bitching about someone. Circular discussions spoken by hypocrites stuck on some suicide pattern. Nothing, nothing, nothing. I just want everything, everything.

When I walked home that night high on methcathinone, feeling the last of my methadone doses and slightly drunk and very stoned I could not feel my self. I could not feel my body. I could move it in a strange staggering way but I was not alive. The best way to describe it is a zombie-like state. The experience was comparable to an anesthetic disassociative high, like ketamine or pcp.

“Buried deep in mass production. You’re not nothing new.”

4 Days of hell are waiting for me. Just 4 days, oh only 4 days. The 4 worst days. No rain check in the mail. Nothing looking good. Nothing ever looks good anymore. Maybe at first glance and then the pretty layer on everything peels off to reveal the horrible black rotting corpse everything truly is underneath. If only I would have saved my last doses until I was really sick.

I just want freedom. From myself, from sickness, from boredom, from being alone, from being around people, from pain, from suffering, from happiness, from life, from death, from nothing at all and everything ever. Total death. “And since you gotta go, go the right way. Go out on a high note. Go out at a low point high. Stick the .38 in your mouth, put the hemp around your neck and drop motherfucker. You aren’t shit and you never were and never will be. Time does not heal your condition; if anything only worsens it, at the least, lengthen it.”

Slip out of the bar and into a black alley, black with nothing. Black with everything. A thousand peddlers offer drugs and whores and sluts and fags and queens and everything you could want or not want but I want nothing, except for methadone, and I have no money. What I want is locked up. I could try and liberate it and get a supply that way but we have seen Bob’s path and it only leads to the shithouse. A mouse can play with the cat but he takes the risk of having his guts being ripped from his belly alive, digesting right in front of his own eyes. The cat thinks this is funny, it’s all a game to the cat. Play time. The cat is a lot of people and things and systems. Just think about it. But perhaps the cat is right after all.

People take things too seriously, like life for example.

The whole world was on fire and the bombs dropped and I saw people I used to know dead on the TV. Friends with limbs smashed, blown up in some foreign land that’s not even worth visiting to just stop and take a shit in. I saw the dead and I saw the living dead. I saw the wounded warriors and the fearless fags and they were alright. The farm boy brainwashed into a killer zombie.

The recruiter says, “Get your leg blown off boy?”

“Yeah, I wanna go back.” The recently wounded vet turns to me, “Hey, you should join too. Join us.”

Like some cult, some church, something evil that you blindly follow to death. Maybe they wouldn’t need to be brainwashed if it was a battle worth fighting in.

Dope Sick at Pizza Hut & DXM Revisited

The other day I was doing alright it was the second day since my last dose. I had a little bit of weed left and this girl I had met online invited me over to hang out. She was really cool and shared a lot of the same interests. She told me she used to be into oxys and dope and that she didn’t do it anymore. This was after I explained why I didn’t go on the trip with Krist to her. She did say that she could find methadone that was a plus, too bad I’m broke. Already blew the last of my money on methadone and now the script is gone.

That night I was drinking the last of my rum and some Miller High Life and before I left a took an ativan because I’m usually not good at meeting new people so I figured it would calm me down. Plus I had just talked to someone who said they scored a whole bottle of ativan, so I figured I could get more later anyhow. We hung out and listened to music and talked and smoked some weed. Then we started to drink some strong whiskey. I was fucked up. She got hungry and asked if I wanted to go out for pizza so we went in her car to go eat. When we got there I ate 2 breadsticks and then the sickness had came on. I am almost sure it was from not having methadone but also from drinking on top of it with some ativan. I got up and went to the bathroom. I just stood there and leaned up against the wall. Nausea and pain. Then I walked over and threw up, most of it on the floor. I went back out but I was too sick to even try to eat or even really talk. Then I felt it coming on again and had to run back and throw up again. I felt a little better after that but apparently by the time I came back out she was done eating and had her pizza boxed and ready to go home. “I told them you had a lot to drink.”

I felt like such an ass. What a way to end an evening with a new friend. She was pretty hot and she wasn’t a dumb bitch or anything like that. Too bad she isn’t using anymore but it’s always nice to meet new people to smoke and drink with.

The day before I went on a burn run with some friends and was kind of fucked up. I remember yelling, “You wanna blow that bridge up!?” As if I was asking them if they wanted to. And they laughed and then my friend driving said to the passenger “why do you wanna blow the bridge up!” It seemed funny at the time. Then they turned on the radio and it said, “South Carolina is activating several thousand national guard for the hurricane.” I said, “they’re going to fight the hurricane!” Where did such strange images pop into my mind? 

Tate told me that he had heard Krist was arrested for meth but I called and found out they just hadn’t called because they were working to make money to get back home.

While reading the wikipedia entry on dextromethorphan I realized that it’s ability to potentiate opioids/opiates may not just be through it’s action at the NMDA receptor site, it may also have to do with it’s abilities as a Dopamine Reuptake Inhibitor and a Sigma 1 and 2 receptor agonists, as well as Serotonin Reuptake Inhibition and action at the nicotinic receptors. Inhibiting dopamine reuptake should make the effects of an opioid last longer by keeping the dopamine that was released around longer. As well as possible increased analgesia through the sigma sites.

I will be sick in a couple days, I think I’m going to be screwed.

Sickness then Health then a New Sickness

10th day or so I think, more or less. Methadone withdrawal is mild but lasts too fucking long. Didn’t go on the trip for obvious reasons. The supply is dry. I’m fucked. This fucking sucks. Pain all over. Achy bone pain. Eyes tearing up, flooding like Katrina. Diarrhea, well that’s better than constipation but loperamide fixes that a little too good. I have maybe half a pipe full of kratom, a quarter bottle of liquid codeine that is probably 5-10 years old and diluted with water, 2 2mg loperamide tablets, a 2mg lorazepam, half a bottle of benadryl, and a few pounds of poppyseeds. I could probably score some tramadol or bags or something but I am broke, which is my own fault for blowing it all on drugs. This sucks. I get to smoke several bowls of weed everyday and during those times withdrawal doesn’t bother me a bit.

I’ve picked up a habit of sleeping for days at a time. I don’t mean this figuratively I mean 24-36 hours of sleep. There may be a 10-minute awakening in between and then I realize “I’m still fucking sick, I’m still fucking broke, and there is no methadone, I’m fucked, back to sleep.” And it’s been working alright except I might as well hang myself if I’m to seriously pursue this routine. I don’t even feel like wasting my time with poppyseeds or anything. It’s an incredible challenge to even do anything that doesn’t involve going back to normal and poppyseed tea isn’t going to do that even if it just makes me feel “not sick” or “just a little bit sick” that is no substitute for feeling “good.”

I listen to the radio a lot and a lot of the nuts late at night the few times I am awake. When I do choose to be awake it’s usually during the night and then back to sleep during the morning. This must be the life of a nosferatu. Withdrawal is hell. It is the antithesis of what opiate agonists do and when you acquire the almost daily need for them for years and then cease to take them you experience the exact opposite. Is this what Epicurus was against? The pleasures that are hard to acquire, while good, are in the end not good because it is hard to maintain or acquire and thus results in more pain, the polar opposite of all that is good in life. But that would only be true if opiates and opioids were in fact difficult to obtain and they only are because of the artificial control the government places on the free market and on our individual freedom, our right to take the plants and medicines that we choose to use. If the government minded it’s own fucking business I would not be here sick. So no, opioids and opiates are not evil. They do indeed induce real pleasure. If I was allowed to do what I wanted to do on private property I could grow opium or synthesize opioids. Synthesizing drugs or growing plants do not violate other peoples right to their life, liberty, or property. So why must the government interfere and violate my right to life, liberty, property, and my pursuit of happiness?

In the end it doesn’t matter; we are in a controlling, “mind everyone else’s business,” snitching, rat society and the only way out is death or revolution. There will be no revolution only death.

I was still sick when Jim stopped by and had me find coke for him. He smoked weed with me and crack and that made things a little better. We took a drive to get some more weed and met one of his friends from a few cities away. He would only do things for Jim if he bought him beer. So we went to a bar and we all drank and then took a drive and smoked some crack laced weed. Afterwards we stopped at this girls house who Jim’s friend had no clue was a junky. But within two minutes of being there I ended up finding out they sold bags regularly and that they had bupes. I couldn’t get them down to a price that Jim and I could go in on but I gave them my number and told them to call me the next day. They never did.

By that time the methadone supply was back and I was doing alright again. Heather came over looking for bags and we smoked and drank. I went to the liquor store and got some cheap rum. Before Jim got off work to give us a ride to go look for bags she was already occupying my toilet throwing up everywhere. When Jim got here we ended up taking her with even though that meant driving around with an unconscious girl in the back seat. He was only able to pick up vicodin so I took 4 on top of my methadone and we smoked more. The one night Jim drove Tate out with Heather and I so he could pick up some 100mg morphine pills. Heather got a bunch of them and gave me one and on top of my methadone it was pretty good.

During this time Krist was trying to persuade me to take a bus out to Seattle or Portland and meet him and his friend. He was broke so by the time I’d be able to come up with enough money and drugs he was in some homeless shelter in Salem. I guess one night they took acid with some guy they had met at the shelter. They ended up speaking gibberish and the preacher who ran the place got them to sign a paper taking them to a mental hospital. They thought it would be fun. They went there and met someone who ended up bleeding from his asshole, this was because he was feeding his asshole with a fork and had gotten the fork stuck up there and it had ruptured his asshole. When the acid wore off and the insanity of the place took over they decided to leave and snuck out the fire exit. Now they are in California.

I’m really sick from something. Probably a result of using too much opioids. I don’t have any insurance but if I did I hate doctors and hospitals and surgeries done under anything less than total anesthesia. If things don’t get better soon I may have to hang myself. But there was a good chance I would have done that anyways. If I get better I want to try and get on the methadone clinic for real this time.

Updates from the Sick Zone

For a while I just smoked a lot of weed and hash while taking large doses of methadone and amphetamines. Krist and I went to NYC one weekend to catch a free show in Tompkins Square. The show was pretty good. On the way there and on the way back I smoked and we’d both do some lines. Everything seemed better. For months things seemed better because there was a steady supply of everything. I was in a state of constant happiness. But funds flew away as fast as they came and I managed to spend all of my money before I had the chance to invest it in something that would make me money.

I remember one morning Krist came over and I was really tired and trying to go to sleep, but I stayed up because he bought me some methadone for hooking him up too. He had to go to the post office to drop some packages off and on the way there I started feeling really sick. The watery eyes, the runny nose, and that terrible feeling in my stomach started coming on earlier that day. I hadn’t taken my dose yet because I was waiting for the tagamet to kick in when all of a sudden Krist turns down the next street and I can’t hold it anymore. I rarely ever throw up but I was overwhelmed with sickness, I felt it coming up and forced my head out the window and puked a liquid spray all the way down the street and the next one he turned on to. There was puke all over the side of his car door but he said, “that’s ok I’ve done that to my own car myself.” Krist had the tendency to throw up when he took a big dose but I rarely ever threw up from anything. Maybe I throw up once or so a year and usually when I take a dose with too much alcohol. This was one of the only times I could remember throwing up from being sick and I hoped it was not an indication of a new regular withdrawal symptom.

Methcathinone is almost exactly the same as methamphetamine. There is only a very minor structural difference between the two. They can both be synthesized from pseudoephedrine but the methcathinone is much easier and doesn’t leave a toxic mess as a result of the reaction. It’s also supposedly more euphoric. It’s a simple oxidation reaction you can do in your kitchen. Prices are similar to methamphetamine. Sounds very interesting.

Lately I’ve had an interest in the old tinctures of the 19th century. Things like tincture of cannabis, wine of coca, vinegar of opium/tincture, laudanum, and all of the variations. In the US Ranbaxy Pharmaceuticals still markets deodorized tincture of opium, man I would love to try that stuff someday. Paregoric is still made as well but isn’t as potent. They prescribe the modern laudanum for diarrhea and pain.

I’m still not sure if I want to go on the trip or not. To be in a constant state of sickness doesn’t sound fun but if I can raise some funds I’ll definitely go. Amsterdam sounds like a better vacation. $5 a gram hash, OTC dihydrocodeine and codeine, legal mushrooms (though I’m not much of a fan), legal khat, the red light district, and absinthe and lots of other interesting goodies. It just sounds like a fun place.

Please keep your patience I hope to write a lot more often soon.

To Travel

After the show in NYC, me and Krist planned to head across the country to Portland in late July. It’s hard to decide what to do. Krist was thinking about joining the Navy after the trip, it’s something I couldn’t understand. He’d have to get clean before going to basic training if they even accepted him. Traveling is one of my favorite things to do and there were a lot of good cities we could hit up in between but I couldn’t be sure if it was the right thing to do at the time because Krist wanted to make it be 6 months, then down to 3, now he says it will only last 2 months or so. It would be interesting to meet fellow junkies across the country and see new places.

One night I got the chance to do 12 methadone and 4 darvocet. I also took a 2mg lorazepam tablet sublingually and snorted a bunch of amphetamines. A friend gave me a Ritalin tablet and that went well with it too. I also smoked some really good weed and I also smoked some coca leaf and kratom also with the full set of potentiators.

The process of taking potentiators is an elaborate one that begins with taking a multi-B vitamin pill with some 5-HTP and magnesium, followed by a couple tagamet, a sip of grapefruit juice and glass of tonic water that contains quinine, followed by a swig of robitussin. After a half hour or so passes, maybe even an hour, I add a ½ teaspoon of baking soda to some water and drink that. Then I swallow my methadone and darvocet tablets. Took the ativan sublingually. When the methadone starts to kick in I smoke some weed. Snorted amphetamines throughout the day and then the Ritalin I got. It felt so good, after being sick for so long, finally taking a healthy dose of good medicine; it really lifted my mood. The same day I found out that a kind admirer of my writing donated a significant sum of money to me. That came in handy.

Jane the nurse called me and talked to me for a while. She was no longer a nurse and was now working at some shitty hardware store. “We should hang out, I miss you.” Maybe I would go visit her that weekend. It had been a long time.

Some Saturday evening the phone rang. “Hello?”

“Hey what’s up?”

“Krist?”

“Yeah, hey we should take a trip to Baltimore. Maybe go to the world’s smallest church. It’s in upstate New York.”

“Wow, then we could head over to Canada.”

“Yeah stock up on some codeine.”