Dumbledore Puffingstuff
In the beginning, he looked at me with fireworks in his eyes. Meth took us over as humans, especially humans that knew how to love. It ruined us. It ruined me first, and I took him down with me, unintentionally.
Tag: lost
Hit the road, Jack…
I never wanted us to end…
“She’s just an easy crack whore.”
Or at least that’s what one of my coworkers said.
Untouched
Deep ponders and inner yearnings defining my mind and demanding my heart fearless loops… Velvet at age 21 July 15, 2012 When might I gain ability to cast shadow upon the ruthlessly repeated possibilities, a constant linger in my subconscious? When might I recoil; respond to such disgust my mind hopelessly plagues to countless memories? […]
35 D A Y S
You read it. 35 days sober. 35 sober days. Days consisted of sobriety from meth, and all other hard drugs: Thirty five fucking days. About to dive head first into two jobs. Try to rack up money to do some damage control for my life. I’m almost scared to make good money, because I don’t […]
A 10 year old’s fantasy
When I discovered the actor Ewan McGregor around the age of 10, I was enthralled. Going through some old books, I found this in the pages of an unauthorized biography on the Trainspotting actor. Yes, it’s mainly innocent and cute. But the earliest hints of sexual desire are clearly there.
Pizza-Fueled Nightmares
I got woken up by this strange nightmare fueled by pizza. Didn’t want to forget this weird one.
Perpetual Boredom is Dangerous
18 days sober, and now it gets real tough.
Here we whore again…
Less than five months into our relationship, Jack and I experienced the most intense moments of each others lives — in all facets of daily addiction. Intense emotion. Intense pain. Intense arguing. Intense sex. Intense love. And intense hurt.
Never did I expect anything like what we’ve been through. It’s a reality once unfathomable for myself to be in.
But that’s what hard drugs do. They ruin lives, minds, and bodies. We were lucky to catch ourselves now rather than later. But it’s only the beginning to an ongoing, internal battle of heart versus head versus meth. Versus heroin.
Spite Sprite – An Ode to Jack’s Whore
Written by Jack after I called the cops on him – after an intense argument we shared per a Snapchat video sent to my phone while I was asleep. Apparently some kid from my work location sent me, for the first time ever, a video of himself jacking off. So the jacking jokester caused my poor, drugged out, self-sleep deprived Jack to fly off the hinges.
Time for another episode of kick the whore when she’s down.
