Just Another Day at the Office.

.
Today I awoke to a glorious sky. It was 6am, the sun was halfway up and the feint hum of traffic was a constant below. I opened the apartment window and the delights of the city wafted in on a breeze. All the flowers from all the gardens from all of Lyon had released their scents.The café on the corner opened it’s shutters and set out its chairs for another day of business. I was up for business myself.

For the last four days I’ve been solely on methadone... not out of choice, but because this city is dry. 4 days is the longest I have been without dope in three and a half years. I don’t feel bad for that... I just feel bad for the wait. It’s been 4 days of piss-stained stairwells, broken promises, unanswered phones and last trains home. Where I come from this doesn’t happen. Where I come from heroin is a 24/7 shop with no shutters. In London, if you’ve got the money and you want to kill yourself, you can. There’s little wait and there’s rarely disappointment. I would hate to be suicidal anywhere else.

Anyhow, I was up with the sun this morning as I was on a promised promise... “Get your arse to Croix Rousse for 10am sharp... it’s sure, sure SURE!!” Normally when I receive a message like this it is genuine... it means the dealer has the gear in his pocket. I hoped so, because not only had I no gear, but due to this little drought I had almost drunk up my entire supply of methadone. Apart from the dose I swallowed early yesterday evening, I had just one left and after that.... well, I didn’t even want to think of it. So my meeting today was more important than usual... It was to score methadone and heroin, to buy my well-being.

I arrived at Croix Rouse just before ten and made the short walk to a pre-arranged spot. On arriving I was horrified... there must have been 15 or 20 junkies circling or lurking around the block of flats where the meet was... half of them dope sick. This is a residential area... people live here with their children and they quickly notice a strange group of sniffling, filthy and poorly dressed adults hanging around. What’s worse is, as no-one is sure from where the dealer will appear, we are all constantly up and down, searching in every direction imaginable for a sight of him. Whilst tyring to act inconspicuous we do ourselves no favours. The only direction we don’t look is up... God has yet to drop a bag out the sky. I distanced myself from this bunch and went and sat alone at a nearby bus stop.

At 10.30 I received a text. “I’m there... I’m there.. 10 minutes...” At 11.00 I was still waiting... at 11.15 the same. Finally, at 11.20 there was some movement. I watched as one be one the circling junkies slid out from nowhere and filed slowly into the flats. Someone must have gotten the call... our man must be here. I crossed over and went in with the rabble, past the elevator and through the door to the fire escape. Imagine the scene: 20 junkies sitting hushed in a stairwell, the dark only lit up by burning cigarettes and the screens of our cell phones. Suddenly my own screen lit up: ‘30 secs’. I let everyone know and we got our money ready. After 8 minutes and 3 unanswered calls the bottom door opened, the light flicked on and someone came running up the stairs. We all stood up ready... but it wasn’t him! Rather, it was a motorcycle courier using the backstairs instead of the lift. He slipped through us suspiciously. “That’s police!" I said to one of the junkies... "That was the police!” He just shook his head... “Calm down... it’s just a courier. We’ll be gone soon!” Well, courier or not I was not comfortable with this... it was just too hot. And not even for us... we were clean... it was the dealer who arranged this that would have all the problems...it’s he who would be in possession of the gear.

I tried to phone the dealer twice more and then I made my decision to up and leave. One other addict decided to part with me. On the way back down the stairs I mentioned Methadone. By pure chance this guy had two bottles of 100ml in his pocket. I bought them both. We left the darkened stairwell and headed out. Just as we were leaving someone was coming in... he stopped us. “What are you doing here?” I didn’t answer. The addict alongside me said something about waiting for a friend. “Who? What floor?” From that question and the way my entrance from the building had been blocked I knew this was more than just a nosey neighbour. “Do you know who I am?” the man asked raising his head slightly “I am the police” he finished, now poking at his chest and grinning. With that he had his ID produced and then strapped an orange police band across his left bicep. Four others entered in behind him and rushed into the stairwell.

We were led outside where there were two more policemen... standing either side of our dealer! I could only imagine they had caught him in full possession... his sullen face and drooped head told me that. Out in the forecourt we were soon joined by the rest of the rotten bunch and just as 15 minutes ago junkies had slid from nowhere out the shadows, now the police done the same. There was soon at least one policier to each addict. We were made to strip down to the waist and remove our hats, shoes and socks. Whilst doing this another police man walked the sorry line of jaundiced, hollow cheeked, scarred and bruised junkies and left with a handful of ragged ID cards and passports. We were told to empty our pockets and lay the contents on the little wall where we were standing. It was here that I remembered I had just bought 2 bottles of methadone. Fuck! I seriously considered just ripping them open and swallowing the contents. I was going to be arrested (it’s a class A drug) so I might as well make sure I’m not ill as well. But I didn’t do that... instead I took them from my trousers and laid them on the wall... the wall that had just turned into a chemists top-shelf! Along it now was a booty of drug paraphernalia and every possible prescribeable drug . There were bottles and strips of pills, amps of morphine, packets and boxes of syringes. There were tourniquets, blackened spoons, pen-knives and razor blades. In fact, there was everything EXCEPT heroin.

After a moment a policier confronted me. “Where did you get this from?” he demanded holding up the two little bottles of methadone
“It’s mine... I get it on prescription.” I replied.
“Where’s your prescription? Can I see it?”
“I don’t have it on me.”
“You do know that this is a class A stupifiant without a prescription, don’t you?”
I nodded, “Yes, excuse me.”
“Who is your doctor?” he asked. I gave my GP’s name, address and number. The policeman went away.

We were all properly searched and then ordered to get dressed. On being questioned everyone said they were “waiting for a friend” though no-one could remember this friends name, address or telephone number. When they asked me I told them what they already knew: I was here to score heroin. They asked me off whom and I said I only know him as ‘D’ (this wasn’t true).“Is that “D”” a policeman asked pointing at the dealer. “No... that’s not him.” I replied. I can only imagine that my broken french and little bit of honesty had helped me, because after a moment of conferring I was suddenly hit in the stomach by my passport, handed back my two bottles of methadone and told to “Fuck off!” I left at a quick trot with about ten others. Our dealer was kept behind.

We were all in shock... me especially. How I left & with the methadone was unbelievable. The other addicts all agreed I had been extremely fortunate. We walked on quickly... we just wanted to get away from this place. 5 mins down the road my phone rings: “It’s me... I’m ready!” Well, we couldn’t believe it... only minutes ago 'D' was being held by police and now he was ready to serve us!? We were sure it was a police set-up to catch us in possession. Even thinking this, not one of us backed out of the deal... we all still took our chances. We met 'D' five minutes from the same block of flats we had just been searched in and we all left untroubled with our orders. As we made our way back down to the Metro the other half of the rag-tag junkie army were making their way up, joking and laughing about the police. We let them know that ‘D’ was waiting and everything seemed in order. By now we were laughing and joking too.

And it is a joke... because 20 police men had been surveying us. They had watched us circle about for nearly 2 hours and had probably listened to our phone calls. They knew who our dealer was and had followed him. If they would have waited five minutes longer they would have got us all on possession charges & the dealer on trafficking... bang to rights. Instead they busted us with nothing to bust... and how they never caught the dealer in possession remains a mystery! So it’s a joke... it’s a waste of junkie time, a waste of police time and a waste of god knows how much public money. What the neighbours must have thought as they saw us refill our pockets and bags with drugs and needles and then be set free I cannot even imagine. I wonder if they saw it as effective community policing or not?

And so it was, I arrived home a little before 1pm, though a little later than planned. I was still half expecting the police to jump out and nab me as I exited the metro... but no, their brains couldn’t follow a smacked-up drug dealer through a block of flats, so there’s no way they’d be able to organise an arrest through the maze of the underground system. Instead, I was once again left to my own devices... to enjoy the tranquillity of the afternoon. I did what I had to do and I laid down on the sofa. I closed my eyes and opened my ears to the noises of the day. I listened to distant sounds and voices... to the chipping away and shouts of workmen. I listened to the afternoon screams of school children and to the echoes of high heeled shoes . I let this day wash over me as I sunk in & out of a self-induced sleep. Today I had been lucky - it had been a close one, but I had made it home with my gear, my methadone and free of any drug convictions. This means I can still get a US visa... that I can continue to dream New York dreams. It means that I can still make good on certain promises.... that I can still one day visit my homie sKILLz and kiss the Brooklyn Dogs.

Best wishes everyone & stay safe, Shane.

54 comments :

Poetic Genesis said...

Not surprising the police busted when they did. They're jokes where I live.

I'm glad you didn't get caught.

Well wishes and love from Cleveland, Ohio!

Genesis

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Poetic Genesis,

For this comment:

"I'm glad you didn't get caught."

I've got even MORE respect for you than I had before. You should be proud to have said that. Thank you.

All my best, PG & the love's returned, Shane. x

Kat Skratch said...

Wow.
Holy fuck.
I thought you were a goner.
I'm glad your afternoon turned out to be lovely after quite a start!
Police- insufferable nits the lot of them.
I too am glad you didn't get caught. I am addicted to your writing. I'll sit down and read anything you've written any night I can. I'm glad I got another exciting episode tonight.
Shane, much love to you from Seattle! Chase those NY dreams! :)

Longy said...

The Gods didn't rain Heroin but they certainly rained luck and Police incompetence! What a touch : - )

Cheers for another gripping read Shane.

Do you go through similar close shaves often or was this a one-off?

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Longy,

Hiya mate & thanks for your comment. Loved your little reply about Anfieldthe other day... really made me laugh!!;)

No, these things dont happen often... which is incredible. In London i only ever had one such scrape and here it's the first also. I am told though that here being stopped is a regular occurence. Other addicts are shocked when they see me put my buy in my pocket, because here the police can stop anyone, anytime for a search or ID check. This has happened to me twice... but i wasn't scoring at the time, just returning home from a friends.

But there's a worrying side to this, because it's not really hidden what we do. I know if I wanted to, in any city I could find all the dealers within a month. How the police can't is simply baffling.

Yeah, I had a touch.

Hope you're well Longy... all my wishes, Shane.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Hiya Kat Scratch,

Thanks for all you say... that's very kind.

I've met some nice policemen, one especially. I was just a kid and he realised that I was having a murderous home life. Well all through the ages of 7 - 12 this policeman would pass by and make sure I was fine. He'd bring me sweets... sticker collections & footballs. He was a very good man. Once he even didn't arrest me because he knew if he did I would be seperated from my family. I can only espect such things.

Anyway, thanks again for your words... you take care, Shane. x

jasmineistrash said...

dopesick the worst.
i've never had a run in with the police in grand toronto or st.kitts. There a joke around here too.

Stefany said...

Hey, thanks for the comment regarding Milk...

I wish more people would give the film a chance-- I mean, I did, yet I'm already the rebel without a cause hippie of the family. I'm not homophobic and my best friend is a bisexual Wiccan...

BUT if you don't judge people and simply open your heart (I know that sounds cheesy) you'll love the film.

~ Stef

tongueout said...

what a close call!
sounds like a day straight out of the book junkie

Herbert Barry Woodrose said...

Insane. Man, you DO have style.

"what are you here for?"

"Heroin. Obviously."

I'm glad you were able to exert that huge amount of near-Buddhist control and not gulp down the medicine. Just a tiny amount of will and you got to go home. I wish every peaceful droog got to just go home. Especially when they only intend to go home and sleep, and not shake people down for their "Papieres" like Fascists. We need less police, more Shanes.

I've known some good police in my time. Not a lot, but some. I'd still rather have less of them, and I'd still rather they had less power.

I'd also love it if we couldn't automatically look down on people who are having a hard time. But whatever - I'm dreaming.

You didn't ultimately say - was it worth the wait? Was the gear good, bad, so so? You've mentioned it before, but I don't have it straight yet - do you have to behave differently with the stuff after a few days off?

Another thing - that 'sense' you had when you watched the courier running up the stairs, that is a highly evolved holdover from about a million years of survival. I watched an evolutionary biologist talk about this at length. That is as much a part of you as your hair or your smile. There was a long time ago in our history when "gear" meant the watering hole, there wasn't much to go around, and we waited in dangerous conditions for it. And every odd rustle and fast movement sent the same shiver up and down your tail. Back then it was "that's a jackal, man, jackal!" "Naw, that was just a twig falling from a tree." "Ok, I KNOW that was a jackal, or a lion." "cool out man, it was just yaAAARGH!" Munch munch gulp.

Those are actual wires in your brain, put there by all your ancestors - every single one of them ancestors, successful survivors, at least long enough to reproduce. It's not just logic playing around in your brain, it's not just paranoia - it's a carefully implemented and evolved instrument.

Use it, listen to it, stay free and stay safe. I'd hate to be hanging around a piss-stained stairwell waiting on my next issue of the Memoires. Checking my cell for news of Shane's release. Emptying my pockets, putting subversive blogs on a ledge for incrimination. As it is I already hear too many weird clicks on my phone for my comfort.

Everyone of you trying to just make it through to tomorrow, stay free. talk to you later.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Stefany,

Anytime. You can be as cheesy as you like... I'm in france, it's full of the stuff here!!! ;)

Thanks for your comment. BW, Shane.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Tongueout,

Yeah it was close... 5 more minutes and there wouldn't have been any blog posts for a week or so! ;)

Junky... it's even worse/better... it'sa tale straight out of 'Memoires'.

Thanks for your comment and the follow... it means a lot. All my best, Shane.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Hiya H,

Yeah, the police here are awful. They burst onto the trains, buses and demand ID and do random drug checks. Thesaddest thing is;, because my skins quite pink I get let off lightly. 95% of all stops are on Magrebians (which make up the largest ethnic group over here). And they are not chucked there passports and told to "fuck off!" They are arrested or harressed into committing an arrestable offence.

In England the police are not allowed to stop people unless they have good justification for believing they've committed a crime. This law was brought in because of all the police checks on black people.

The gear was so so. It's very rare there is anything better here. Yes, after a few days off you have to be a little careful. There's not the risk of fatal overdose, but an overdose where you cannot function for hours until the effect has worn off. It'svery surprising how quickly immunity drops to this drug. After one day, the dose is back to normal. Whether coming off a period of abstention or not, most addicts arevery careful with their doses. One, if you've strong gear and take too much it is a waste of money... two, an overdose is a waste of gear. That's not me being funny. many think the addict is reckless, but no. Money and gear are TOO valuable to be reckless with.

Yeah, if I got arrested everyone would have been thinking the worst as they saw their comments and mails go unanswered. I think if it had have happened my wife would have made a short blog post letting everyone know I'm alive!!

I'll stay safe if you do the same? That's the deal, i'm afraid... & there's no haggling!

All my best, Shane.

jen said...

Tell us about your NY Dreams, Shane. Why do you dream of coming to America?

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Hiya Jen,

Nice to see you... I hope you & the family are well.

My NY dreams...

They go back a long way... back to music and poetry (nothing to do with drugs). I grew up on New York music and attitudes. The NewYork dolls, the Ramones, Television, MC5, the Stooges.. patti Smith... oh,there are so many (too many!)

And it wasn't just music but also film and art. I love Scorsese and Abel ferarra films and I love street life. New York is the other half of London... there are a thoussand parallels. I also love slang terms and accents... and I especially love that of NY. To me listenening to a New Yorker, a Dubliner or a Lonon cockney is like listening to poetry. It is a place I have a yearning to go to. Following the city and retracing the old bands and old films... it would be like rediscovering my youth. When I walk around Fulham now (where I grew up) and look at all the places where the events in my blog took place, I am taken back... but not to tragedy... to youth and beauty. That is what I feel of NY... It's a love affair!

Hope that answers your comment, Jen... all my wishes, Shane.

A said...

It's funny, I spent my a lot of my teenage years in New York City going to the clubs, and now as an adult I would LOVE to move to London. I currently live in San Francisco. Ah, life is strange. Hope you are well Shane......

Betsie Zombie [Vanessa] said...

Wow, You got lucky. You really did!
Try to be more careful next time, ok? :)

Take care.
kiss kiss
Vanessa Mota

SCOTT said...

incredibly fortunate. even more so that there was a large group of you. your chances of arrest may have increased with only a few individuals. Good to know that future entries won't be read from a jail cell. but on that note, have you ever had a conviction or been placed under police-watch?

kelly Al-Saleh said...

You were very lucky there. I've never had a run in with police. Dealers have disappeared from time to time (to prison), but I've been very lucky.

Something amusing... tried a dealer on Sunday, they were all in church!!

take care
xKelly

jasmineistrash said...

shane just wanted to say i took a look at your website and really dig your art work. The paintins are awsome.

xo
Jasmine.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Thanks for your comment A,

yes, I'm well thank you. I think we all get bored of where we live... all cities are just daily details when you live there. I'm sure New york will disappoint me... just as London will disappoint you! ;)

Anyway, maybe oneday we'll cross one another in an airport.. going different ways.

Take care & best wishes, Shane.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Hiya Vanessa B Zombie,

Me be careful??? lol

OK... I'll try. ;)

x

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Scott,

Thanks as always for your comment. I've never had any drug convictions or been under any watch (though I've been told thatt the Lyon police read this blog... whether it's true... I don't know??)

I'm not worried, as if caught I can only be charged with possession... it's a waste of everyones time. Normally, the police aren't interested in arresting small-time users - they want the dealers. Of course, they will not turn a blind eye if they catch you scoring, but they don't go out to arrest users (not often anyway.)

The only convictions I had were in my teenage years. Stealing cars... criminal damage... theft, etc. They've all been wiped off my record now.


Bw, Shane.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Kelly,

Dealers in church!!! The priest must have a problem!! lol

The ONLY time of year when I had probs in London was the long weekend of the Notting Hill Carnival... every other day is fine. Even Christmas day all the dealers are on in Shepherds Bush & Fulham.

Hope you're well, Shane. x

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Thank you Jasmine... that makes me happy!!

The painting titled 'father' isn't my real father but my step-father. Many people comment on that thinking it is a portrait of my murdered father, but it's not.

Thanks once again...Shane. x

ryan field said...

That's some story...

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Shane,
I am so glad you didn't get busted, my friend. I would be so worried if they sent you to the pokey. And I was about to request you wtite a post of a typical day for you (laugh). I hope this wasn't typical.

Much love,

SB

Anonymous said...

Today I had been lucky - it had been a close one, but I had made it home with my gear, my methadone and free of any drug convictions.

Nothing about your life sounds lucky. Getting busted would have just been a little more misery than your life usually is.

Rachel Caprice said...

What a life. You had more happen to you in one day than I have ever. Sounds like something out of a movie. Being a New Yorker myself I say reach for those New York dreams. lol.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Anon,
Thanks as always for reading and commenting. It was quite a long post and that you stuck with it and read its entirety tells me much about your own life.

The truth (& we both know it) is that it's your life that is empty & miserable... the more you reveal yourself and pass your time here, the more it shows.

Your up to 2hrs 36mins on my blog. At this rate, after another 10 posts, you will have passed an entire day here... that's something,hey? Giving me a day of your life.

Anyway, you take care and we'll speak more over the next posts.

All my best, Shane.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Rachel, thanks as ever for your comment and input... my life isn't always so exciting!!! lol

My very best thoughts and wishes, Shane.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

SB,

Watch this space... there will be a secret and hidden post in reply to your comment.

Love returned, Shane. x

Fishwhiskers said...

Hey Shane, stumbled on ur blog by accident. Great talent for writing! Shame the drug has still got such a hold on u, but u'll be ready when ur ready! I had to get to the age of 42 to give it up and now live every moment to its full extent. Life is wonderful. K xx

kelly Al-Saleh said...

Or the nuns have a habit... sorry couldn't resist.

aye im alright as alright. I bumped into my pal on Saturday after picking up my script, when I got closer his face was slick with sweat and i knew. I'd already taken my subutex and he should have done the same but says he gets scared of withdrawal symptoms (even after 24 hours!) so I had to get a taxi (he was in no shape for public transport) and sort him out. I couldn't resist either which was daft cos I'd already subbed so no effect, just placebo.

Subutex is better for detox than maintenance but methadone has so many strings attached and you can't hold down a normal job and do daily supervised consumption. It feels like its presumed all addicts are junkies and therefore don't have a job to go to (at least dealers are about after working hours).

x Kelly

kelly Al-Saleh said...

btw. I recounted your story about '4 days of false promises and last train home' to Alex (ma pal) and he winced and replied 'that's pure torture' in his glesga manner. too familiar, too soul destroying. Once it's in your head that's what you're gonna do you just can't accept it when it doesn't happen. it must happen!

Your writing does remind me a bit of Burroughs (esp Junky). But also reminds me of Arthur Miller. He's one of those writers than can write about anything and draw you in. No effort reading his stuff, just good stories. Speaking of which, Alex is really good at telling stories - maybe its a Weegee trait.

Better get back to work... bought my cat blublu some 'zoom around the room' catnip so he can be euphoric too... except it makes him psychotic instead... lots of small mammals' corpses everywhere.

take care, hope the painting's going well.
x Kelly

Sarcastic Bastard said...

I'll watch, Shane. Many thanks!

Anonymous said...

A Liberal lunatic is someone who is proud and happy to publicly declare their support to a person or people who are proud and happy to publicly declare their acts of murder aimed at women and children sleeping in their bed.

Liberal means to be loose with their values and morals, not stringent or strict. It is that looseness that allows them to blur the lines of common sense and decency to the point to where wholesale murder is acceptable.

I suppose anyone lazy or careless and who basically devalues human life with Euthenasia, abortion, terrorism and so on really isnt concerned or can be bothered to maintain a point of view that requires one to actually lead a purposeful and meaningful life.

I suppose that is why most druggies are liberals and why liberals support terrorism, abortion and hate those with meaningful lives such as religion, family, morals and values that arent hedonistic and narcissitic.

It is quite easy to be a self centered egotist from the warm and secure confines of a protected western suburb.

Is abortion a narcissistic act.
Is supporting child murderers and mother killers from afar hedonistic.
Does filling your body full of false delusional pleasure at the expense of a civil society egocentric.
Why do Liberals hate Jews and love terrorist?
Are Europeans the most anti semitic since they killed all the Jews and now have the most muslims outside of the middle east?

They are anti racist jew hating religion hating pro abortion terrorst supporting - liberals.

How much more hypocritical can one get, only a Liberal lunatic can understand what true personal hypocrisy really means.

But seriously why would a liberal druggie, who loves the people and culture of terrorism, that would kill them along with gays, spend their time and energy voicing their support for the right wing muslims of the middle east?

http://www.zombietime.com/sf_rally_september_24_2005/queers_for_palestine/

Anonymous said...

http://www.zombietime.com/
sf_rally_september_24_2005/queers_for_palestine/

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

anonymous,

I don't know any liberals... but I know one utterly stupid and pathetic moron. I also know who you are as all IP addresses to this site are logged. You should be ashamed to not have had the face to post under your name... how desperately sad. hahaha

Best wishes... and well done, I'll be nominating you to Mensa... you're obviously one of lifes intellectuals. lol

Lou said...

The police and drug situation is so different here. One bust and you are on perpetual probation, drug tests, court ordered AA.. it goes on for years and years. And if you miss a court ordered whatever, you are put in the county jail for months on end to wait for a "hearing". It's so useless. And they charge you for probation, drug tests, tethers. Like if a junky has $20 he is going to use it to pay for a drug test LOL
My son owes thousands in probation costs. I say good luck trying to get it out of him. I can't even get the $50 he owes me!

Barbara(aka Layla) said...

HOLY CRAP! You had me on the end of my chair freaking out even though in the back of my mind I was saying to myself "he can't be in jail, he's writing this post...."

I am glad you are okay and hope you figure out a way to get what you need soon and safely. Yes, you need to come to the States!!!

Hugs, Shane.

Anonymous said...

New York Dreams? Of what? Swine Flu?

Nellie said...

Hey Shane,
Just wanted to show support for your blog. I've been keeping tabs for a bit and your posts are always entertaining and well-written. Gotta stand by other H heads willing to be honest and intelligent as well as unappologetic for what we are. I hand it to you.
I've been "clean" on Methadone for years, only doping it up a few times along the way - but a hard core H fan till the day I die. Using or not. Had mad police run ins over here in NE US. They always move in too soon don't they, they must know what they're doing. Police don't want to eradicate drugs, how would they make any money if they couldn't fine us all? I almost couldn't leave the city w/out being harrassed. Always put it where the sun don't shine - not a lot of female cops round here to search. Always made it out but once, Yeah!!
Also, I commend you for the restraint with which you answer that crazy Anon guy. You'd think they would just gracefully admit defeat, being so full of grace and all. Have fun, keep up the high life.
Nellie

sKILLz said...

Finally I see where the I was mentioned in the blog post.

I dont know how I missed this post of them all.

Yo homie its fucked up when the cops search you and you know you have something on you correct?
Scary, you start thinking of getting sick, and whats going to happen and so on.....

I'm SOO glad that nothing happened to you, I know everyone has said be careful but I know what it like going out coppin, and the dealer taking his sweet ass time and then before you know it theres over 10 junkies waiting to be served.

Again glad you got away clean and with your drugs!

Hey if you can't come to me, then maybe one day I can come to you?

Stay up homie and email me whenever you can!

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Fishwhiskers,

Welcome and many thanks for your comment.

You know I'd rather the drug had a hold on me than a business or landlord... heroin is my own chain... I am my own prisoner.

I never say I won't quit.. I probably will one day... I just can't see that day from hre.

Thanks for the compliments & glad to hear you're doing so well. Best wishes, Shane.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Kelly,

Thanks as ever for all you say... it means a lot coming from someone as together as yourself.

Yeah, once the seeds in the head (which it always is for me, lol) you have to get it. You'd wait all night if here was even a 1% chance. Thats what addiction is... thats one of the bad sides. Still, I always take a good whilst I'm scoring so the time is completely lost.

Hpe you're well... sorry for the late reply, Shane. x

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Lou,

You've just put me off coming to the states... you've smashed my dreams!!! lol

Yeah, it's not good if you're an addict, but for all the crime and theft that comes with addiction... mùaybe?? I don't know... all I know is it doesn't stop anyone, & probably costs the governmnt more in prison costs than anything else.

Thanks as ever for your comment... my best wishes to you & family, Shane. x

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Barbara, Thanks for the comment... I'll get to you one day... even if it's in an urn!!

Hugs & love returned, Shane. x

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

Nellie,

Hiya & excuse m for the delay in replying.

Yes, I'm not ashamed of being a heroin addict... i's a huge part of my life and has been for a long time. I also refuse to apologise for that... I don't see it as doing any wrong.

I'm glad you're clean and it works for you... I never encourage heroin use, just happiness. In whatevr state you're happy and content that's what I'm for.

I hope you're well... stay in touch and keep reading, & we'll speak more soon. Take care & BW, Shane.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

A Day in the Life of A Heroinhead - A Hidden PostI usually rise between seven & eight. I do not wash my face, nor make a coffee nor have breakfast. I do not even brush my teeth or go to the toilet. On waking I take an injection... it will be the first of 5 that I take each day. The only thing I do before or whilst I’m preparing this is smoke a cigarette. My second injection will not be until 4 or 5 pm.

After my injection I will go into my painting room and sit down. I will not usually paint before an hour whilst the heroin is at it’s peak. Instead, I will look at and think about the canvas. Gestures, ideas, colours... my performance in front of the canvas and how can I translate that into my work. Finally, after some time I will start adding paint. I usually paint until 1pm. At this time I start making preparations to score. I send a few text messages and from the replies see how long it will take, if i have to move or if someone will come to me. Most times it is the former.

My afternoons are spent on the Internet & between 2 libraries: the local public library and the private university library which has a fantastic collection of books on art and literature. I will sometimes take a walk around the city looking at the new artists or just taking in life. I always walk the city and never take transport. I only take transport when I’m scoring or have appointments.

Each Monday & Wednesday, I spend working with a friend. He is a Spa technician (taught by yours truly!)and we travel around the middle and south of France fixing jacuzzi’s. I worked two years doing this professionally and actually trained him during my first six months in France. He offers to pay me for this but I never accept it. I work just to help and have the company and to keep active. If he can get home 3 hours early each day and we can share the fatigue of a days work then that is my payment. He doesn’t know I’m an addict & see’s me as something of a freak. Not in my personality but in my thinking and my disregard for the norm. I don’t like that... I've suffered with that label all my life. It upsets me - I don’t see myself as a freak.

After scoring or working I pass my evenings writing the blog and replying to comments and mails. Some evenings I will pass in the cinema or theatre. I take 2 or 3 injections during the evening and one before laying down to bed. Every Saturday night I go and watch the midnight movie.. always an old black and white film (which I love). Sundays I walk around the Lyon art market.

Other than than that it is shopping, cleaning and ironing. I juggle bills and pay everything a little later than the last minute. My income from art is only enough to allow me not to work. It brings in about the same as a skilled worker. I still consider myself lucky... I have the same money yet more time; it’s a good deal.

Memoires of a Heroinhead is an account of the extraordinary events of an ordinary life. Beyond the tales of drug addiction, serial killers, broken homes and dislocated bones there is a person, Me. I am not a myth or a fraud... I am just a man with some peculiar tastes. You like red wine before dinner... I like heroin. That’s the only real difference. So, like the rest of the world, a day in the life of a Heroinhead is mostly mundane and boring daily details... those same details that kill love and ruin marriages. And that is me, that is my daily grind... and it al makes for a quite unremarkable life. ;)

Take care SB... that one’s for you (let’s see who else will find it!)

Ps: I wonder if anyone else does secret posts? I like that idea.

Memoirs of a Heroinhead said...

A Day in the Life of A Heroinhead - A Hidden Post.

I usually rise between seven & eight. I do not wash my face, nor make a coffee nor have breakfast. I do not even brush my teeth or go to the toilet. On waking I take an injection... it will be the first of 5 that I take each day. The only thing I do before or whilst I’m preparing this is smoke a cigarette. My second injection will not be until 4 or 5 pm.

After my injection I will go into my painting room and sit down. I will not usually paint before an hour whilst the heroin is at it’s peak. Instead, I will look at and think about the canvas. Gestures, ideas, colours... my performance in front of the canvas and how can I translate that into my work. Finally, after some time I will start adding paint. I usually paint until 1pm. At this time I start making preparations to score. I send a few text messages and from the replies see how long it will take, if i have to move or if someone will come to me. Most times it is the former.

My afternoons are spent on the Internet & between 2 libraries: the local public library and the private university library which has a fantastic collection of books on art and literature. I will sometimes take a walk around the city looking at the new artists or just taking in life. I always walk the city and never take transport. I only take transport when I’m scoring or have appointments.

Each Monday & Wednesday, I spend working with a friend. He is a Spa technician (taught by yours truly!)and we travel around the middle and south of France fixing jacuzzi’s. I worked two years doing this professionally and actually trained him during my first six months in France. He offers to pay me for this but I never accept it. I work just to help and have the company and to keep active. If he can get home 3 hours early each day and we can share the fatigue of a days work then that is my payment. He doesn’t know I’m an addict & see’s me as something of a freak. Not in my personality but in my thinking and my disregard for the norm. I don’t like that... I've suffered with that label all my life. It upsets me - I don’t see myself as a freak.

After scoring or working I pass my evenings writing the blog and replying to comments and mails. Some evenings I will pass in the cinema or theatre. I take 2 or 3 injections during the evening and one before laying down to bed. Every Saturday night I go and watch the midnight movie.. always an old black and white film (which I love). Sundays I walk around the Lyon art market.

Other than than that it is shopping, cleaning and ironing. I juggle bills and pay everything a little later than the last minute. My income from art is only enough to allow me not to work. It brings in about the same as a skilled worker. I still consider myself lucky... I have the same money yet more time; it’s a good deal.

Memoires of a Heroinhead is an account of the extraordinary events of an ordinary life. Beyond the tales of drug addiction, serial killers, broken homes and dislocated bones there is a person, Me. I am not a myth or a fraud... I am just a man with some peculiar tastes. You like red wine before dinner... I like heroin. That’s the only real difference. So, like the rest of the world, a day in the life of a Heroinhead is mostly mundane and boring daily details... those same details that kill love and ruin marriages. And that is me, that is my daily grind... and it al makes for a quite unremarkable life. ;)

Take care SB... that one’s for you (let’s see who else will find it!)

Ps: I wonder if anyone else does secret posts? I like that idea.

Sarcastic Bastard said...

Thank you, dear Shane, for taking the time to do this hidden post for me. I like the idea of hidden posts, too. You know when people really want to read your stuff when they have to search a bit for it, eh?

Your life sounds nice to me. You are fortunate not to have to work a deadening full-time day job like many of us. I hate working 40 hours a week, but for now, I don't see any way around it.

I think your life is anything but unremarkable and you are one of the most remarkable people I know of. I hope that someday we can sit and talk in a bar of cafe. I would enjoy it tremendously.

Please take care of yourself. I would be heartbroken if anything happened to you. I really would.

My love to you and thanks again for the hidden post and for posting the link to my blog. That was very generous, and I was really touched by it. You are a good person.

SB

Anonymous said...

Hidden posts are a great idea. Just found your blog this last weekend and have enjoyed reading it. I'm also a member of the Junky Underground and it seems we have a mutual friend in Skillz.

Best,
jDub

michael larceny said...

Great post, comments, and hidden post. Respect. H feels good. And it's all good if you can juggle a few things and pull the right strings for the H puppet.
one, money, it's expensive esp. Once you don't have a newbie tolerance.
Two, scoring, one person must have a quick dealer so scoring doesn't become too time consuming that the junkie can do other productive things like hold down a form of income.
Money keeps the user from getting too desperate and exhausting funds trying to run away from the sickness. A functional junkie can live a better much healthier life but it really comes down to money.
Three, injections. Money or lack thereof seems to force a junkie to go on the syringes. It's more efficient. The healthiest method is imo snorting or monkey water. It's hard to stay with that once smoked or shot though. But, back to injections, there is a problem with this. A human only has so many shots before veins are a problem. Think of it as a hole punch that's why repeating it several times a day collapses veins. After a while it's hard to hit a vein and people resort to unpredictable groins and some hit arteries. If a shot hits an artery some people lose limbs after a few days. They have to amputate. There is a huge taboo with needles and heroin because it does get very dangerous! Also H is not that safe to begin with because of the cutting agents. Its only % 70 pure maybe, much better quality than decades ago. Still shooting several bags into your heart everyday carries a serious worry. Be careful one day something is bound to go wrong compared to a non needle junkie.
I am a junkie, that's how I know all this. I just recently took 4 days of hell and made the switch from H to suboxone strips. Not as easy as a methadone trasnsition but it's what I had. It's all I had and got 50 strips. I got these strips 2 months ago and couldnt make the switch after 2 real attempts.
Being forced to stop H because of money. This is what happened to me. I would justify the H high even if it meant running my bank balance to $5. Not good to have money issues at 27 years old.
MOAHH, Shane, I've been reading your words for a few weeks now and it's very interesting and poetic. Hard to stop it's like a drug.
I feel like you might someday decide to save a lot of money and quit the H and stay on methadone. I dont think being % 100 opiate free is better than a maintenance drug. Just my oppinion as I write this, herion withdrawl leaves my system and my emotions are magnified. It's easy to cry. Tomorrow after a decent rest I should be able to feel better and try to be productive. It's so hard here in Utah it was 1 degree farenheight last night which is hauntingly to cold to function whilst having junk sickness.