american junky

Stuck Inside These 4 Walls

noreply@blogger.com (junky) — Tue, 12 Aug 2014 08:39:00 +0000

I'm so alone in this shell right now...

Use Me, Abuse Me....

noreply@blogger.com (junky) — Sun, 15 Jun 2014 21:01:00 +0000

I would really like to use today, some Xanax a couple or 4 painkillers. Maybe it would help me knock off this funk? Most likely it would just make me not care about the funk. It's been 90 days and I haven't had a hard day until now. I just want to be in that slow relaxed overly cushioned place.

Xanax

So damn bad for you but oh so good.

I can't even begin at this point to tell you the horrors I went through kicking this stuff. Things I didn't think the mind could do.

That just makes me doubly crazy about sitting here wanting to take more.

Spin

It's

noreply@blogger.com (junky) — Tue, 10 Jun 2014 19:37:00 +0000

So Far Not Feeling Totally Sociopathic Today

It’s how many gas stops to the next city. It’s not knowing what time zone you’re in. It’s filthy bathrooms. It’s that ringing in your ears. It’s listening to that tick and wondering if your motor is going to explode before you get home. It’s sleeping behind dumpsters. It’s racing rain clouds. It’s hiding under overpasses when you lose that race. It’s shit beer in a can. It’s whiskey in flasks. It’s splitting lanes and riding on the shoulder. It’s wheelies and burn outs. It’s sleeping on sidewalks. It’s that pain behind your shoulder blades. It’s wobbly legs and numb hands. It’s bungee cords and ratchet straps. It’s zip ties and bailing wire. It’s chain lube and lock tight. It’s tool rolls and spare parts. It’s vests, hoodies, and dirty jeans. It’s grease under your nails. It’s naps under trees. It’s riding two up. It’s feeling like you’ve been there before. It’s tarps and sleeping bags. It’s riding through the night. It’s wet socks, and boots that take days to dry. It’s flat tires and burnt out bulbs. It’s falling in love with everyone. It’s stories from old men (and women) at random bars. It’s flashlights in mouths. It’s rewiring headlights on the side of the highway. It’s weird sun tan lines. It’s long hauls and close calls. It’s a tour of gas stations and coffee shops. It’s strip clubs and dirt bags. It’s pocket knives and carabiners. It’s camp fires and tall tales. It’s new friends. It’s old friends. It’s being reborn. It’s feeling alive. It’s true freedom… ~Dave Buchanan

Darkness

noreply@blogger.com (junky) — Tue, 10 Jun 2014 06:12:00 +0000

Train - "This great evil. Where does it come from? How'd it steal into the world? What seed, what root did it grow from? Who's doin' this? Who's killin' us? Robbing us of life and light. Mockin' us with the sight of what we might've known. Does our ruin benefit the earth? Does it help the grass to grow, the sun to shine? Is this darkness in you, too? Have you passed through this night?"

I've been struggling with a darkness. What do I do know? Where do I go? Post Benzo, post booze, post painkillers. I haven't come up with a solution yet. But that darkness is there. It simmers under the surface. A slow steady gnawing in my mind.

I can go around for a few days at a time and pretend it's not real but it always catches up to me. Like a pressure cooker slowly simmering. What is it simmering? Hostility? Anger? Rage? Hate? Evil? Why is it even set to the boil?

A total and utter lack of feeling for anyone else except myself. No empathy at all. Everything hurts and everything piles on. A huge darkness. Maybe I'm a Replicant

or maybe a Sociopath.