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Tag Archives: drugs

I still really like to score, the score in the wound, driving for hours in the city, revisiting, slowing down driving off, ducking round, how many Esplanade lights have sat me in the drivers seat, bent soup spoon in hand westbound
how many times have I sat in Albany streets crack houses, so tired, so wired, nothing but daggers on the inside, paranoid checking the windows for cops below, my clamped tires, nevermind it will be alright, just past that smoke i’m expired
Petrol attendent knows my plate, says babe its late, says i’ll be right back, comes back, hand him 2 2s, swop for the toot, swop for the bupes, swop for the bruise, hit the toilet, rank stank, gangplank, one step junk, jump, dive, shoot, dive, suvive
how many times have I been lost in Embo, screaming down the phone, telling drunk dudes to leave me alone, travelling down unknown dark roads, seeing township folk tableaus, khat, smack, skyf, sugars, so hoity toity so not dirty yet shooting up nyope
Church is ripe with an evening service, workers and shirkers drink quarts on the corners, waves from the white guy in the toyota hilux, pick up the phone and pretend not to notice, Skeet appears in the rearview mirror, jumps in, drops packets and exits
14 dealers in a 10k radius, I congratulate myself for this supercilious web of comfort I weaved, I move like a fiend, i’m a scabrous queen, no friends now they’re weaned, now they’re apparently clean, now most are od.’ I got 3 more straws, think fuck it all, I still really like to score.

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i'm more fuck than turkey more hot than cold

i

 

 

this sleep problem is becoming drastic, i managed to sleep for about 2 hours this morning, its too hot to sleep, eat for fuck. pulled a fast one with some stolen doctors prescription and managed to score bupe, forget the sweaty withdrawal, cold turkey is for kickers, the grass has grown threefold in teh past 20 minutes and the flys are getting on my nerves. i should be concentrating on that big white mountian but my mind is reckless and restless with indecision, to stay in durban or move, to stop or to continue, to breathe or in or out. this is a transitional stage young lady, get a grip, show some character, stop spending hours in the bathroom shooting snorting and smokin that stuff, have a proper bath, one that will actually cleanse, get your camera back, get your life on track. i’ve lost my weed.

 

 

ts true, i don’t sleep in late, in fact the longest i’ve slept for is 9 hours and that was thanks to the rohypnol. lying snoring like a little child on my bed payed for with my money in a hotel somewhere in manchester. i had 11 minutes before the time on my hair dye was up, 19 hours until my time with him had come to an end. and then what. I cannot think or presume to imagine the staggered levels of defeat i am destined to fall. Stupid girl, you knew, don’t anybody pretend that you didn’t. What was the point of all of this. Oh yes, so you can write. Stupid girl, are there not more noble reasons or subjects to engage that sulky interest. Could you not have at least curbed the incessant bottle to mouth and stood back and watched,

 

The sleeted drive through rectangular whisperings, with you in my ear, you’re amazing. The skin on hand like skin on shaft like skin on skin on skin on skin on skin. And then what? Nothing. Stop it. stop it stop it.

 

You told me that you wanted to make changes. changes that would change things

 

So broken and humbled and seething on the insides. So ashamed and confused and nervous. So much knowledge power respect. So deeply cut so fucking scared of tomorrow and that voice and number and letter. And i pray to you lord, please do not steal this from me, please do not harm me, please do not strangle these times, please look after and protect and help and aid and cherish and hold me lord jesus, and him and her and us. Pleae keep the evil one away from this world, please arm me with your holy spirit and your love and faith and strength to know what is right, to heal me, to exalt me for your good.

 

you are my frontier.

i spent hours in the vacumm, dissecting the layrinth of letters and phrases, tearing the mantis till she cried in vein over the toilet bowel afraid of honest words, pure light, manipultating the cartesian equation to elongate make sense of this geography i find myself lost in unable to capture the what the hell was it about you. Where lies the volume of work that will harness entrap the intrigue, wherein the library of this work does the conclusion end? And I fight, and i fight my insides and my head and my friends to make sense make me understand that you are the whispering that will some day just make me smile in disbelief of my warrant hydrographic exploitations of foreign plasma, how it slipped and spilt, craving the shore which is offered everytime i hear read your voice. i am the water i am the desert

so heavy and i am sorry jonathan, and one day i hope we can understand my and yours and this. though i am honest in my verbal frivolity, and i mean it with every last lingering sensation i can muster across my telescope which is weak and needs constant reinforcement against the erosion of rationality, alcohol, life, fuck if callahan can break horses i can harness them and you, and it kills me that i think you are the one, and i want it to be so, just so i could hold you forever and be part of the experience, to be with someone that made it all special and the thunder so much louder. and i am afraid of the return journey, the lack of your protection

for i was not meant to lead an easy life and i know i have been promised much but my evil deeds are too much to bear sometimes

and i love you with those three words my new dogma

and sometimes i don’t care if you have already rolled over

and sometimes i’m glad that you have

love

claire

 

dollove

dollove

 

I tasted you once – you were

 

sad and cold but I’ve been here before

and it’s getting rather old

3 years off the saddle and 12 in the chest

The bathroom tiles are dirty

theres shit on my breasts

One red light above the tv

Another in your head

When this is all over – you drop and leave me for dead

A black penis stands in the doorway – another in my cunt

it’s bigger than before but I’m so misled

I think it’s a door

to another room

 

lord oh lord make me never a father, make me never carry bad words that rip apart the larynx and corners of thy eye into spasms of sadness. its been a tough day to say the least, trying ot get a handle on this winston story, slowly and slower seeing the finish line however short term memory loss is a sea we all try to swim and i’m out of my deep violet brown that enhances teh script and tomorrow is a day where i repeat the process in order to complete the hurdle and i’ve been offered by the kind lady monica down the road, who seems to think i’m some kind of minor celebrity free reign, there is apun in here somewhere, full use of her horses, and if you are a friend you know my affinity with the horse, so rides around these green hills are imminent and fuck the puff adders and hornbills, swans, fish eagles, bunny rabbits, wildebeest and tractors for i am and will be part of the genteel that take to a bit of gallop in the misty afternoon. still undeceided about the script and the process and the move up country and god only knows i’m miserable now. been down for so long its beginning to look up but only dead fallen leaves and snails to apprehend the view from total claireangeliqueishness distortion. where is my love? where is my family? how can you be a hero to few and a waste of time to so many. i can’t manage teh dividing line, the median, when that damn morning bird calls, i will personally take my gun and shoot it though it’s pulsing heart, then wrap it in plastic, and intravenously shoot it up, i shall finally have a soul to call my own