Journal entry, I wrote on a McDonalds bag on st marks in summer 2012

We are walking in the city on a Friday night and getting high so we don’t have to be alone. We don’t have any money but when you have a pussy you can make it work. I go out 6 times a night. Every time I shoot a bag, a part of me dies, resurrects, and survives. My friends are “bad” men but they don’t mind my seedy past. They love me with all their drug-fueled heart. Who else is gonna put up with my junkie ways. Plus they are the only ones I’ve ever had.  The junkies, homeless, hippies, punks, gypies, out casted, rejected, hopeless, dirty, undesired people are my people. All I ever wanted was love, happiness and freedom. I found even more in these people.  Dope is the only thing that does not make me feel like I’m fucking crazy. Others say it makes me crazy.  That my friends are crazy. But friends are perfect. Especially my best friend. But they don’t listen when I tell them with a joint hanging from my lips, ” When you grow up you’ll see that nothing was as good or bad as it appears to be. Trust me, you don’t want to end up like me. Spending half of your life on your knees or asleep. You can’t depend on the kindness of strangers cause one day you won’t be young and beautiful any more and you will realize it was never kindness, but opportunists.” I turn to my best friend and look her straight in the eyes and say, ” You don’t wanna end up like me, fucking to get high for free.” Only 18, but she laughs, “that’s already me.” Still, I go with her to the McDonalds bathroom mark is in the stall waiting for us and he locks the door. We trade needs and he leaves. She cries, “Lets not cop like that again.” I lie, “yeah, I hate those kind of guys.” We shoot each other up and float back out in the street. We spend the next 2 days running around LES looking for life. Smoking cigarettes, stealing dollar beers, puking on the sidewalk and begging for change. Just by looking at us, you know we have so much fun. I don’t wanna say goodbye. But I know some day there will  be  the day, where   I lay  my  head down  on this cardboard and never wake up.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s