April 23rd 1998: Absolute Failure
The initial results from my attempt to get clean are not good, no, not good at all. Well, all right, it actually isn’t going that bad, but it’s not as successful as I had initially predicted. I’m only supposed to be having one hit today, instead in decreasing the number of hits I have each day each day by one. This method will work, but it will just take a bit longer than I had anticipated. I don’t mind though, as long as I can eventually come clean…
Over there on the other page is the start of something, a poem? some sort of incessant rambling of a fool? I don’t know, I want to finish it but I can’t now, my head is way too clear. Yesterday my brain was a total blur; I could feel it, the fuzzy edges around my brain when I wrote that thing at the height of my hit. When I get back to that mind numbing state, maybe then I will continue to write.
Having only allowed myself to fix twice today, they had to be timed out in Swiss precision as to get the maximum high gravity each. It’s 1045 now, I have 30 min. till I can have my first hit.
I’m writing this on the train from Yau Ma Tei station, I had just been to score. My hit of the day was unsuccessful to say the least. I ended up finishing off all of the dope just to catch a buzz.
I don’t really care for talking about this right now, in fact, I’m going to stop discussing this whole situation with smack. From here on out there will be no more talk of scoring, fixing or anything else remotely associated with heroin. I reckon it just makes me sound pretentious. Mark my words, “no more talk of smack!” At least not for a few days.