HISTORY RANT CONTINUED..
this starts – well it is pretty obvious i guess…
Lost six months or a year and a half I don’t know managed to stop taking the meds they were killing me faster than the alcohol. Had a mad and stupid psychiatrist on a power trip: here, take some more STELAZINE Paul I can see that you are still vaguely capable of constructing a sentence and your hair hasn’t ALL fallen out yet. Better up the fucking dose.
Came off them then withdrawals and hallucinations my best friend told her she was a an evil bitch as I finally saw it her black heart so putrefied it was pooling behind her eyes. But I had never looked outside myself pity ME I pity YOU bitch. I was too mad to fucking SEE that was the fucking POINT
Stayed as far from my family as I could I could not look at them the only way of course to keep their lives clean of me.
Tried to fix myself went further and more mad and more mad and further faster it was still better pain beats lifelessness pain beats brain-death. Starved till the weight fell off me, wasn’t hard couldn’t afford to eat anyway at least my FUCKING HAIR GREW BACK.
Rapid cycling, oh so real after the fugue and it all slid back to me so fast skeletally thin and quicker than the rest… doing stupid stupid things wandering alone and manic. Euphoric drunkenness a cool ocean a delusion of relief honey sweet.
Beaten up again and a few more times finally worked out that I could to run away. Did gymnastics drunk on the edge of a cliff; on the roof of someone’s house.
Took stupid crazy girls to the lifeguard tower at the end of the pier at the edge of the beach in the middle of the night whenever it stormed. I waited I knew I took them whoever whenever it rained and howled at night and I could smell ozone. They liked THAT, I told them it was a full moon each one I told them a fucking ritual they always said how can you see through the clouds?
I went to clubs broke with no cigarettes and talked women into buying me drinks or just stole them; would walk around the room asking for cigarettes until I had enough to last me till morning; waking up where? Slept in a bus shelter, at the train station, in a construction site, in the bush on the doorstep of display homes and once in an actual for real DITCH.
I remember a shared rental house where I painted a six-foot self-portrait on the wall in blue and RED. I painted crows for eyes. Four houses in six months ending on the street again. Drank everything I could find oh yeah cooking sherry vanilla essence and fucking AFTERSHAVE. Used to love writing NO FIXED ADDRESS at social security called it social obscurity antisocial insecurity told then I had a job interview at a leprosarium.
I went there wearing a trench coat in the middle of the day in the middle of summer blood saturating the wool right to the edges sopping wet with it and trying so hard so hard to fill in the forms without it running down out the sleeves with my hands shaking so much I kept knocking the page onto the floor.
Must have worked I woke up a few weeks later lost them all; all those weeks were they weeks?
Got a sinus infection; reminder of humanity and mortality had to go to the hospital said hi to the staff in casualty. Remembered the nurse I slept with she turned white when she saw me and would not look again. High as a kite I waved at her and grinned oh such smiles. The infection was in my upper sinuses and about to get to my brain all those long drunk walks in the rain I guess.
Was still high even through the pain and told them I liked their x-ray machine because it looked art deco’. They fucked it up and hit the vegus nerve (the spelling is correct and the pun is clear – did I find that funny subsequently oh what do you think???) and I went and died on the operating table full cardiac and respiratory arrest wish I could remember that but I guess it would have HURT. No light at the end of any tunnels no light anywhere too cynical for a religious experience.
Was so weak had to wait three days before I made it to the bar, was straight out in a fucking wheelchair to smoke still high flirting with my face all swollen from the surgery like a freak like a lunatic of course.
Went back to squalor and starvation.
My best friend finally had enough and hit me and tore the skin from one side of my nose, though I had provided him with so many women after they realized just how fucking crazy I was and turned to his arms even though, then, he was a speed freak and a pot head and an alcoholic just like me. He is a good man. It took so much to break him from the love and bonds and fierceness ferocity of our friendship. But I found enough. Wasn’t even LOOKING.
Wartime syndrome before that us fighting the world so hard of course no cause for us. I ended up staying at my other ex-girlfriend’s place.
Tried so hard and stayed straight for three weeks; I think it was subconscious – conscious I fucking KNEW that that was what I was doing – preparation for the biggest and ugliest and least sane that I ever was.
Sleeping with my x-girlfriend and my current girlfriend and my ex’s flat mate and some girl (girls? lost days before I found my way back still high and getting higher) I found at some club… drank everything in the house and this was the time when I decided actually picked; CHOSE to go as mad as I could. Push it and see what was on the far far side.