Is this where it all finally ends? Is it fucking over yet? Here, alone in a cheap, half lit motel in Tijuana Mexico. I just arrived back from one of the strip-clubs along 'Revolution Street.' While i waited for the dope man at a bar table, i watched these beautiful and broken whores dance out their pain for profit. Strung out, lost girls like me... I saw what the men here didn't : each thrust of the hip, each sharp turn of the body, is a a silent cry for help.
I cry for mercy.
I find myself so very alone. My friends, once so dear.. Where did they all go? I cant recall... Some are locked up, a few 'recovered', too many died along the way... Why do we walk these fates? This strange insanity makes this torturous way of life seem reasonable..
I fear facing myself and this world unless anesthetized by heroin. This fear is damning if not overcome...
I have cried out 'I SURRENDER' countless times, I then desperately put together a plan of action to face myself, to not pick up again! But then Alas! there always comes this blank spot in my memory... Something mysterious happens to lead me from this honest resolution to the fucking needle again! To another cowardly resignation, pledging my allegiance to the power of king heroin.
And so it goes.. This round-about never ends... The prospect of an epic internal eclipse builds up, and then drops, with a heart wrenching anti-climax. I never live up to the glorious plans do i..? I am both the prisoner and the guard.
Desperation i have heard, is what's required to recover. This i have. but the other crucial element is action. I need the strength to 'do', or i will stay trapped forever.
So what will it be? death? life? or an endless existence in this purgatory?
the choice is mine. what am i to do?
"we can only save ourselves.."
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Eye think Shane (Memoires of a Heroinhead) mentioned "a subliminal advertisement for help," and can see what he means.
ReplyDeleteThe men see what they want to see, and how many of the women would have it any other way? (at least on the surface) Their fantasy means money, and as the men stare, hypnotized by the women, they don't recognize all the levels of NEED that *they* fulfill. Well, there are some men who do, most are the guys who are pimps, and will get a girl strung out if she isn't already.
Stopping and then starting again, miserable both on and off it, the indecision - it can be a miserable place to be... A LOT of addicts don't want to be that way (luckily, for now, eye've accepted this) and other people don't understand the pull it has on you. Withdrawal is HORRIBLE but so many people consider it "the easy part." After all, the rituals so ingrained into daily existence, the way that it becomes for so many people that the drug is the only one "there" for you, what else is there to do? It's like you have to rebuild your entire life, and it's not easy, and it's not fast. How many people who aren't addicted would be willing to CHOOSE to have everything they know stripped away from them, and then have to start again?
I know this purgatory all too well. I hope you find your way.
ReplyDelete