Bar to bar, nightclub to nightclub, aimlessly. This ain't it. I keep falling asleep in each place and waking to a bouncer kicking me out. The only memory I have of the drinking part of this night is the bar maids of a venue dressed up in black angel costumes, offering free shots. I wanna know the guys their blowing.Stared and stared and stared looking like a creep sat in the corner just stella-in-hand staring. I'm too pissed to attempt any game and decline when one of them plucks up the courage to offer me a shot. No one in this place wants to take me home and fuck. So, my head bends down into my arms, eyes close, dreams invade and once again a bouncer wakes me and takes me to the entrance, his hand grabbing, pulling my collar. Another guy who takes a small incident far too serious. I don't know whether he's just trying to look dominant, what a prat. Now walking more, walk more until I meet Jodie. She only has five bottom teeth and the first thought that comes to mind when seeing this mouth is what getting head from her feels like. It must be good, just gums and lips, an empty mouth to prod your dick around in with no risk of biting. Jodie wants to go buy weed and I'm drunk; I feel like smoking something too. She phones up someone and we start going, walking for ages in the rain. Getting lost but eventually making it to the destination. Jodies asks for twenty quid and I give it to her maybe a bad, drunk decision. I've got police on speed dial just in case things go sour. We wait around at a bus stop. Jodie tells me to go behind a tree as I'm not one of the usuals, I comply. Two people approach her, I'm peeking from the tree, they talk for a minute then head off the way they came. Assuming the deals done I head back over to the bus stop and ask for my bit. Jodie acts weird, and says cowardly 'i got somethin a lil stronger' I go 'what what you got', she says nothing 'jodie what you got, tell me'. A little thing comes from her joggers, a real tiny white substance wrapped up in cling film. 'whats that' 'crack' 'lemme try some' 'you sure' 'yeah'. Crackpipe gets loaded. Puff away. It's the best high, blissful, calm, makes you feel complete. Halloween weekend is just that, crack, drink, crack, with some heroin smoked to keep you straight. No eating because you physically can't. It ends with no money left and going for my last pickup with Jodie and others. We arrive at an alley to some tracksuited guy on a bike whos wondering who the fuck Iam or what Iam. The deal ensues. Jodie reaches for a note in her pocket and its not there. She starts sreaming and shouting. Two of us trail back the way we came to see if its been dropped earlier. Jodie starts accusing really starts screaming at someone. I run, although I didn't take the note. The screaming is just the worst noise. Sprinting now all back through the allies, now on open ground I throw up from running. Too much, too quick. No girlfriends, no parents, no horror films, no psychogical shit, nodebt. Nothing will ever scare me as much as a crackhead losing a twenty.
Addicts are so out of touch, out of touch with the streets even though they live amongst it all. The way they walk straight out into roads, the way they hideout in flat builidings. Self awareness zero. Drugs and people don't work. The drug plain is much broader than the reality and unhealthy for anyone trying to explore it. Even when you do explore it, you reach nothing revolutionary that would actually change your day to day life. The majoirty of people are calm when sober, in the middle, middle-of-the-road, addicts are not, with big highs and lows. Imagine not being able to be calm when sober, that must kill a person and it does.