2005-02-05 - 2:44 a.m.
lockdown one

alright, well.

first things first: i look fuckin' sexy right now. well, not this second--stoner-bedecked-in-pajamas isn't a look that really works for me--but certainly in general. i've almost mastered the science of dope rationing, such that a $15 sack can last from last sunday to (hopefully through) tomorrow, which will be saturday. this is because i only stayed up the first night (since that's the only good night anyway) and did bumps throughout the following days to keep me from eating everything in the world and so i could pay attention in class and sing and write better. thus i fell asleep around two on tuesday and wednesday, i don't know about last night, and tonight i think i may have made a mistake and done too much, because there's very little left and i was hoping to get some sleep. i'm starting to think that the whole rationing thing is overrated. why hoard it? that's pro-addict style. and things are going way wrong. like yeah, i'm still awake, and i've hardly eaten anything today, but i'm certainly not getting high anymore, and my thinking's all fuzzy, and i can't really distinguish dates--i've been thinking maybe i actually got it tuesday, or monday, and i try to remember when it was that i wrote that comment in pro-pitcher's myspace about lindsay lohan's boobs, because that was, i'm sure, near the beginning. now i just feel like i'm coming down all the time and i'm saving the rest for tomorrow, just because i need to get some things done (laundry, homework, phone calls) and then go to see "firesign theatre" or something with my parents. ::sigh:: i'm so sick of this! if i'm gonna get high, i should just get high, and stop worrying about making it last through the week. because now i'm totally fucked. i just need to pick a night (preferably one not immediately following a three-day adderall spree or before a midterm), get a sack, rack some lines, and just tweak the fuck out. no muss, no fuss. no maintenence. much less risk--it's way easier to conceal one night of sprackedness (especially if you plan ahead) than a week of 10-minute stops in public restrooms, emergency bumps in parking lots and progressively spacey behavior. why bother? it's not fun anymore, i'm depressed, and as you can see, my writing's gone to shit. it was awesome the first night and now it's just words and words. luckily the journal's locked for now. i'll keep it that way until it doesn't suck anymore.

ooh, you touch my tra-la-la... mmm, my ding-ding-dong