Anyway, junk is a way of life. Or so Burroughs said. One thing's for sure, though: It not only affects your body, it becomes your body. Junkies are transfixed by their bodily functions. We think about our body every minute, constantly monitoring what's happening with it. How's the pulse? The bowels? The lower back? My breathing okay? How's the abscess? My veins punching out or shrinking up? It's a constant surveillance system. I don't know which comes first, the obsession with physical functioning or the heroin. Either way, they reinforce each other. Once you're a junky, your self surveillance reaches new heights. Every six hours you're consuming a substance that profoundly changes your body, usually taking you from sick to well, but rarely getting you high. That's another myth ... junkies sit around nodding all day long. Shit, not anymore, maybe in the first few months. Now I shoot this shit just to feel normal, to feel the way other people seem to feel without the aid and assit of H. Feeling normal, taking a good, normal shit. That's all I get from each of the four or five bags I run (mainline) every day.
I'm as addicted to the back and forth of sick to well as I am to the heroin itself. It's the roller coaster ride I love ... going from calm to tense to scared and back to calm. It's not just the thrill, it's the anticipation of the thrill, and it's the falling off the thrill. Even being sick gives me a distorted sense of comfort. Addiction is a many-sided thing. You got the junk, you got the process of getting the junk, the process of injecting it, all the rituals surrounding enjoying it, and then the sick-well pendulum. All of it combined ... lifestyle. Junk is a way of life. Maybe that old, bitter, sad sack of flesh Burroughs made a good point.
One of the only things that makes me feel good when I'm junk sick, going through withdrawal, is taking the kind of shit I just took. That sort of intestinal evacuation comes along very rarely. But when it hits, man, when the bowels start rumbling and getting to the toilet couldn't happen fast enough, it redeems the whole sick experience.
How often do you think about your shit?
Thanks, Greg. Shout out to ya for letting me write in your blog. Killer Soul. --E. Dukuo
4 comments:
Digital extraction... I thought about that a lot while being a Junky. It just makes me feel warm and fuzzy all over.
Gotta go, my junk cells are tingling... JunkG
A true junkies shit usually, as Burroughs has written, is as hard as pure porcelain. A beautiful image... JunkG
Ah, yes, the typical shit is unsastisfying. Hard, kind of painful, quick. But the kind that comes when you're in need of a fix, bowel-releasing withdrawal ... it's the only good thing about junk sickness, withdrawal. It's the only place you can get solace while waiting for your dope man to get here ... he's always "10 minutes away" ... in those 10 minutes several hours may unfold, and in these hours you might get lucky enough to get a soft, warm, satisfying shit. It makes the sickness almost worth it.
yep, there's the good shits, bad shits, no shits, and the sickness shits. Then there's the complete withdrawal shits. Last time I got thrown in the bucket I ended up in a cell where all the toilet paper was soaked because the previous occupant had tried to flood out the cell by blocking the toilet and the sink with rolls of shiter paper.
The fact I had no useable toilet paper caused me to experience immediate panic and I started yelling out in desparation "I need some fuckin' toilet paper!". A guard comes by and tells me to calm down. Right away I'm yelling at him "fuck you I won't calm down. I need some fucking paper. Don't tell me to calm down. Just get me some fucking paper!". A couple hours later some guard strolls by and tosses me a couple rolls. Whew! I could relax now, at least somewhat, since I was locked down, and facing total withdrawal over the coming couple of weeks. But at least I was prepared with the toilet paper.
Why was it such a concern I get some decent shitter paper? Because experience had taught me that in full withdrawal I explode with aggressive diarrhea at exactly 30-32 hours since my last fix. I'd gone through complete withdrawal enough times to know I needed that toilet paper bad because the time was coming when my bowels would fully unload, over and over again, and I sure as shit wasn't going to endure that without at least being able to wipe my ass!
p.s. let's see some more updates to this blog. It's excellent. However, there's more stories to tell. Bring in some of the voices from the street to do some blogging here if you don't have time yourselves.
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