Monday, February 8, 2016

I can't quit you baby

Loneliness is a hunger that can not be quenched with anything but that feeling of connection that comes when the universe makes you feel secure in your surroundings. This can come from the caress of a caring mother. A lover who kisses you gently on the small of your back. A fuzzy friend who nuzzles against you at the end of a hard day of being out in the cold world. This can also come in the from of pills, powders, and rocks of opioids. From the moment they enter you longing body, they tell you that THIS is the only love you will ever truly feel. The security they provide with make a 120 pound man stand half naked out on a cold street corner waiting for someone that said they will be there "in ten minutes" almost two hours ago.

I am not sure if I need heroin or if I want heroin. Maybe it doesn't matter anymore. I have turned my ability over to a power greater than myself. This isn't the power they talk about in the musty rooms of 12 step meetings. This is the power that comes from the insatiable need to be fulfilled through my relationship with substance. I love you. I hate you. Most of all, I can't quit you baby. Without you, my life would be one endless question mark. After a month or two or six or a year with heroin, what am I supposed to do if I stop? Go back to being a "regular" person? What does that even mean now?

I want to feel like a cat does in a ray of sun. I want to absorb every bit of joy from the simple things around me. My life is absorbed in dusty bag and dragged through an angry cotton. What would it feel like to be myself again. And who would I be? The myself I know today or the myself I drowned so long ago beneath the waves of my chemical expanse, breathing slowly in and out with the pain of yesterday.

Sometimes I make videos here is one