Fixed my Ass

[antigonemuse]

Waiting for the next fix... making calls, scraping up cash, circling the block... My forearms are covered with tracks, and bruises... My thighs, tits... oh baby - how sexy...

the hazy stomp of the walking dead down vulgar streets... Nightmares in black SUV's are chasing me. What the fuck am I doing down here again? "hey baby, been looking for you... got those stamps we talked about?"; "but i know how you love that hard"; "let me feed you baby"; "no, hold it in, deep, exhale out your nose"; "yea, let me watch... I just want to watch"!

Fuck this. I just wanna to be fixed. Let me out of this fucking place... I'm choking, can't breath you fucker... Can't you see im scared... Fuck you Fuck you Fuck you...

And in the morning, I'm alone, on the block. Where did everyone go? I'm more broken then ever



<venting, sorry>

[WarmCyanide]

the hazy stomp of the walking dead down vulgar streets... Nightmares in black SUV's are chasing me.


sounds like you could beat the living shit out of people who write poetry for a living! vivid post. good luck.

[orangejuice]

deep , deep shit... sounds like a VERY similar experience of mine
in New Orleans

[antigonemuse]

sounds like you could beat the living shit out of people who write poetry for a living! vivid post. good luck.


thanks... yes very vivid... thought this would be a good venue to share my weekend binge stories (this eating at me particulary hard)... im sure there are a few out there who can relate. Id be curious to see some writing others have on their experiences.

[antigonemuse]

Another Fix

Let it work out this one last time. I need this fix. My eyes are ready to pour out of my head like a puss fill abscess protruding from my track marked veins. Oh my veins, are swollen and purple under my pale flesh. I don't leave the house anymore. I can see every puncture trailed up my extremities; small red lesions, 1, 2, 3, 50... Forgive me, for how far I have come; I know what has been done... and yes; give me some more. My lesions are hungry for a metal nipple to nurse the stomach pains away.



<im not as morbid as these s eem to be>

[candyshop]

beautifully,beautifully written-so many asskickin,throwdown writers have made dope thier muse with dazzling results -i think a lot about the drug as creative fuel -seems to be a bit of the chicken or egg thing for bent arty types-anyway you really have the touch...keep it comin...

[Coddfish]

I just looked over a bunch of stuff I wrote while really strung out, nice stuff like "why consider death?" and stuff like that. Don't rememeber writing poetry, but found some cheesey stuff. here's one of several.

I can feel as though I'm bobbing
My brain is blistering
Leaving the rest of me groaning
Clap, prick, point, shoot, shot, shit
Let me tell you "no" she said
Die died dead
Plunger and poker
Hot rods and rig works
Lessons not learned till
They were drowned in the brown h too oh!
Oh it can weight

[jab]

Oh it can weight

How very Andrew Eldritch of you.. I like that. Reminds me of when he describes god as "a highered hand" in the song This Corrosion.

[roland2661]

Waiting for the next fix... making calls, scraping up cash, circling the block...

the hazy stomp of the walking dead down vulgar streets... Nightmares in black SUV's are chasing me. What the fuck am I doing down here again?

Fuck this. I just wanna to be fixed.

<venting, sorry>

antigonemuse--That brought me back to that 4am 5 years ago scraping old used bags of H that I had tucked away for just such a moment I never believed would come.... my hands shaking, nose running, my body screaming. Finally getting a microscopic amount on the plate. Does nothing. A waste. Back to the shower/bed/toilet/shower rotation again.

[shaunclo]

Waiting for the next fix... making calls, scraping up cash, circling the block... My forearms are covered with tracks, and bruises... My thighs, tits... oh baby - how sexy...

the hazy stomp of the walking dead down vulgar streets... Nightmares in black SUV's are chasing me. What the fuck am I doing down here again? "hey baby, been looking for you... got those stamps we talked about?"; "but i know how you love that hard"; "let me feed you baby"; "no, hold it in, deep, exhale out your nose"; "yea, let me watch... I just want to watch"!

Fuck this. I just wanna to be fixed. Let me out of this fucking place... I'm choking, can't breath you fucker... Can't you see im scared... Fuck you Fuck you Fuck you...

And in the morning, I'm alone, on the block. Where did everyone go? I'm more broken then ever



<venting, sorry>

I think I love you Anitgonemuse :whip2_1:

I dont what else to say, but just beautiful!!!

[PRIZEFIGHTERINFERNO]

Waiting for the next fix... making calls, scraping up cash, circling the block... My forearms are covered with tracks, and bruises... My thighs, tits... oh baby - how sexy...

the hazy stomp of the walking dead down vulgar streets... Nightmares in black SUV's are chasing me. What the fuck am I doing down here again? "hey baby, been looking for you... got those stamps we talked about?"; "but i know how you love that hard"; "let me feed you baby"; "no, hold it in, deep, exhale out your nose"; "yea, let me watch... I just want to watch"!

Fuck this. I just wanna to be fixed. Let me out of this fucking place... I'm choking, can't breath you fucker... Can't you see im scared... Fuck you Fuck you Fuck you...

And in the morning, I'm alone, on the block. Where did everyone go? I'm more broken then ever



<venting, sorry>
i have to agree this really is a piece of beauty. almost like a collage of thoughts forming very vivid imagery. thanks for this ive read it like 10 times over the past night/day.

[shaunclo]

I pull out my stained black spoon that has cooked up more than how many shots that have ripped right thru and destroyed my precious veins.

I see blood dripping down the back of my hand and onto my carpet, as my rig is placed back into my mouth full of blood that will soon to be coagulated, as I tighten my torniquet even harder. My fuckin arm is turning red from all the blood being cut off, like I am trying to amputate a limb with a long piece of shoelace.

It is like I am trying to hang myself, but in the wrong place, I have been here before so many times, but this one seems oh too unfamiliar.

My eyes race up and down my arms looking for any sign of a vein to poke and prod at till it collapses just like the rest. Is this really me, or have I had some kind of demon enter me without a care, and no sign of it leaving without my soul in its grasp.

I see exactly what I am doing with virgin like eyes, like I am watching someone else doing to themselves something that would make their own mother curse at themselves with regret and blame.

The dull needle sees something that might be a good place to tear some more flesh open and let the red blood flow like a leaky faucet you cant turn off. I sigh in pain as I hit a delicate spot in my wrist, not caring anymore wether I live or die, as long as this last bit of battery like acid gets into my bloodstream and passes thru to my selfish, self-loathing brain that is coroded and broken with pain, soon to be dulled, but definitely to return even fiercer than before.

This ritual of self hate goes on and on and on, unable to be stopped by even a family full of love, which will soon be crying to the unknown, wondering what it is that they have done to make their oldest son go down this dark and lonely road. But little do they know that the fault is all mine and no one elses.

Another failed attempt to get this dark brown liquid into my battered and crying veins, praying for no more, asking me to please stop hurting them - little do they know that it might be too late, this pitch-black road is now my home I have chosen to stay at even though there is no vacancy.

The search will continue with little rest, and only moments of what was once pleasure, has now turned into an unrecognizable face that stares back at me with black eyes.........black eyes of unimaginable horror and terror that words cant even describe, and pain that cant even begin to register.

I am so fuckin scared and lost, but choose to stay anyway without an excuse of any kind. I pray for me to wake up from this nightmare - but the nightmare has taken me too far, and my eyes are sowed shut never to be re-opened again..........darkness has become my friend of lies, and light doesnt even posses a definition to me anymore. All it is is a faint memory of child hood dreams once lived, but slaughtered and chopped to bits by my all knowing self-righteous actions of selfeshness.

[antigonemuse]

scripted insanity by the educated and respected pillars of our medical community
these are no low life, street corner slingers... they aint no runners with buns banded together, decorated with amusing cartoons
these educated assholes play a tougher game, have a bigger ego - - i like to call it the "big key chain syndrome"
they get to unlock more doors then the average person, and be damned if they dont flaunt their shiny metal rattles about
forbid your nose is running, and you have no cold... or you've become tolerant of your dose... i mean hell... its only been three years without an increase... You are an addict, you are cut off...

so low life slingers it is... until I get hurt, and i can't look at myself anymore. I am in pain, and I am sick, and IM FUCKING CUT OFF... what kind of choice is this??? So I avoid the sun, and smells. I try so hard to stay off the block. I fear the block, and black SUV's. But the sad truth is, that i have been scripted insanity... and things are just not quite right anymore

[Opiyum]

Nicely written as always but it begs the question. Why don't you get a new fuckhead, i mean, doc?

If you let the eagle soar
The pain will soar with it.
Under
Scribed
Priceless
Serenity

[antigonemuse]

Nicely written as always but it begs the question. Why don't you get a new fuckhead, i mean, doc?

If you let the eagle soar
The pain will soar with it.
Under
Scribed
Priceless
Serenity

ive tryed 3 neuros, and two general practitionars and a pain manag., all said while they respect my search for opiate managament, it is not their practice to treat migraines with narcotics.... or they perfer i go to a neuro

and the one neurology group i have been with since i was 13. they have all my history.... its hard to pick up and go...

[freedomclub]

deep , deep shit... sounds like a VERY similar experience of mine
in New Orleans


Damn I miss home. They way it was, you know. Cause I've been back several times but that shit won't be fixed for years and it will NEVER ever be like it was.

I really liked Spike Lee (saw Jungle Fever in the theatre) till I heard his new Katrina movie tells the story like it only happened to black people. I mean they were in the majority, 67% of the population but good god man. Allow me to express my feelings thru emoticons:


:mad: :mad: :angry2: :sandm: and finally:hanged:

[HistoryofMadness]

The blood in my head was roaring like a crowd, spinning like the top note in a lullabye. Ringing startles me into reality. Ringing and rhythm. My head rings to the beat of my sputtering heart. Then another sound bleeds through with light the light draining from my purple curtain.

Phone.

God damned phone.

Scream away, I refuse to open that door right now. No more peace of the senses. Reality strikes me as a beer-bellied bone-digger, mouth of a brewery, reacting like a smoke machine to outside trauma.

I rise, slowly, and climb aboard the day like a saddle-sore cattle-herder. Not even realizing what is real, I roast my tongue on the first cup of wake-up. What day is it? Fuck it, its all the same. A day by any other name...

I remember Bukowski, and the spider in search of golden flies. I suppose he's right... While I flinch from the crackling glass surrounding my bones, and rub my arms to warm away the chilling and smooth away the crawling, I decide he was a crazy drunk. But he was right.

Since I woke up, somewhere, everywhere in my mind, I've been dreaming of a red flower blooming in my hand. That crazy old drunk decided his cross, much like Christ's, was on his mind from the beginning.

And like Bukowski, and Christ, I reckon as I reach for my wallet and phone, I decide not to climb down from my cross. To climb down would only mean finding another one to die on. Because I doubt anyone could call this living.

[cori]

Before to long
A sheep in wolfs clothing
The fresh smell of blood / just a taste
The rest take what remain
For in that time to yield / barren is the field
While you give up
Throw up

Oh how you waste
Before to long
The monster is feeding
Before to long
The dogs will be feasting
Before to long
There is nothing left
Without a leg to stand on
Before to long
They’ll route you out
And put you back where you belong
Convenience

[BigWaves]

Waiting for the next fix... making calls, scraping up cash, circling the block... My forearms are covered with tracks, and bruises... My thighs, tits... oh baby - how sexy...

the hazy stomp of the walking dead down vulgar streets... Nightmares in black SUV's are chasing me. What the fuck am I doing down here again? "hey baby, been looking for you... got those stamps we talked about?"; "but i know how you love that hard"; "let me feed you baby"; "no, hold it in, deep, exhale out your nose"; "yea, let me watch... I just want to watch"!

Fuck this. I just wanna to be fixed. Let me out of this fucking place... I'm choking, can't breath you fucker... Can't you see im scared... Fuck you Fuck you Fuck you...

And in the morning, I'm alone, on the block. Where did everyone go? I'm more broken then ever

<venting, sorry>

Not a total buzzkill...but Antigonemuse, you may have a habit. *smile*

You've definitely done a deed that the Ibis and the Crocodile trembled at. And cruel as it may sound, it is just that you suffer. But it's MOST important that you "take something" from this wretched episode. If you're going to persist in this lifestyle then there's a LOT more than that disjointed ejaculation up there (hey I still call it "art") for you to experience unless you TAKE STEPS...you are so much FARTHER from hitting bottom than you even realize. Now you're in the red zone take action NOW or you'll get so sickened by the merry-go-round and attempting to make it back that eventually you'll be TOO SICK to raise a finger to help yourself. You can try as you may to "do it properly" and "handle your dope like a ___" whatever vacant macho tripe you want to throw in there...to try to remain in control, but nobody that I've ever heard of has been able to do that.

...sorry for the "tough love kick in the ass" but although you're a stranger to me, I can't help but to have genuine concern for you or anyone else who's having a rough go of it...if you'd like to talk about it on a one-to-one please email me...it's for all of them, and for all of us that I'm here to try and take your hurt away.

Ever fondly,

with Peace, Love & Respect,

DjL

bravdave63 at AOL



Come the end of the day, or anything else...when it's all over, all you have is alone.

find that solution. It's out there.