I’m still alive......just!
How to describe the past few weeks would be surreal....but many things play a....and so does a lot of money intended to help sort my life and someone elses out. They blew it. I have fuck all and it is no joke, it never was a joke. How crap it is when the drugs run out with everything else......
There are things, everyday tasks I should have done but I haven’t...some out of laziness and some out of genuine ill health, including an injury that needs seeing to.
I do not play the victim unless I am really playing head games in order to seek sympathy and get what I want.....even though I don’t do that 12 step fuckery I would agree that it is a common trait of addicts. Some are better at it than others........I can be good at it with men, but then they can be good at it with me. Women who have spent any time in the sex industry are inclined towards seeing men in two categories – i.e tricks or pimps, those who are there to be exploited, used, and those who are exploiters. It truly is a microism of late capitalist society in all its glorified decadence, and so is excessive cocaine consumption with all that goes around it. I make some people uncomfortable because I write blatantly about an underbelly that they know little about, a world that is just around the corner from theirs but which they have never experienced directly.
My sordid little world is no less ‘real’ than theirs.......if anything it feels somewhat more real because what is under the surface of society is made explicit and there is no pretence. Some people like to mess around a little with the dark side but too much and the lights go out.....like the guy I went to see last week. He likes to sniff with me but is stingy with money, I always end up staying too long there out of my natural generosity I am not all greed......and that mf knows that.
My times are as hard as my drugs. Hell, I have been pretty fucked up. I was ill last week with food poisoning then the injury that stopped me working for a few days.....I had enough money in the bank to cover my drugs thank god else I would have been even more fucked last weekend...as if it were not fucked enough. As fucked as the former week. This weekend just gone has been the shittiest ever.
I knew what I was walking back into when I missed the man and called him to come back.....I knew he would cost me....in more ways than one. I just was not prepared for the scale of it...... despite my admissions to being sexually sub/deviant there are levels that are beyond me....describing it in that way was perhaps a way for me to explain why I go back for more....suspecting there to be an element of the whole madness that I thrived on. But hell, how many times have I longed for peace? How many times have I got sick and tired of it....what I thrived on was maybe not the way things have been lately but memories of how things used to be....the good times I wanted back, the person I used to know and wanted to see again. Sexualising it was maybe my way of coping with it.
But I have made my nasty little bed....either I will lie and rot in it or fight my way out of it. I intend to struggle out of it, reclaiming more than my bloody drugs.
4 years ago