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12-20-01 - 12:39 a.m. I'm so stoned. Honestly. It's ridiculous. I need to cut this shit out. I'm coherent and all, but still...damn. I moved on from marijuana and alcohol and have lately found myself injecting heroin and snorting coke. Which I know is not good, I know both are extremely deadly as well as extreeeeeemely addictive, please spare me the lecture. I'm already working out a plan to quit in the eventual future. Maybe I'll make it a New Year's resolution to stay clean a week or a month. Or a week. But I'm done for the night. I am done for the night. Screw how unhealthy the habit is, it's the cost that will get me in the end. And I want to clear this up right here and now: This is not anything to do with Leif. He caught me using coke and actually threatened to dump my ass if he caught even the slightest hint of my using it again. I called him a hypocrite. He said pot is different, safer. I guess he's right, but it all amounts to the same thing. We're both druggies. I'm just worse. Here's where I get all psychotic and scary: I pondered cutting open my wrist tonight. Not to kill myself. Rather, I wanted to braid my veins. When I bend back my scarred palm, I'm able to see three very prominent blue-green lines, almost as though I'd taken a Crayola marker to myself. I thought to myself, I could just cut out a chunk of skin, dab off the blood and pus and junk, and grab the three prominent veins and yank them out, much the way one yanks out a power cord. Then I'd hold the three ends between my toes and braid them with both hands. Maybe I'd make them into a bracelet. I didn't do that. I figured it would take too much time and I had dinner arrangements. So I instead clipped and painted my toenails with clear polish and went merrily about my way, pulling my sleeves over my wrists so as not to tempt myself further.
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