Monday, June 18, 2007


These legs, this mind, this heart, everything restless. I know what will cure it. Two things. Heroin or time. Time or heroin. Two cures, one option. And so I wait, heart jumping with the second hand.

My counsellor expressed concern that I haven't been to a supermarket since detox. She thinks I'm afraid.

Maybe I just don't feel like shopping. I don't feel like swiping my card, moving up and down aisles. Looking at things that I don't want. I don't want anything. Except. But that's natural. Ignore the want. Ignore everything except the blue sky. Drink it through a straw. Mix it into my milkshake. Swim in it, drown in it. Dream.


Blogger Michelle's Spell said...


I'm with you on the grocery store. Nothing scarier than all that stuff, waiting to be bought and sorted. Love the last few lines of this piece.

9:48 AM  
Blogger the walking man said...

Unfortunately making time live as opposed to killing it was a far harder task than I ever imagined it to be. Just keeping the mind occupied with anything other that me...fuck it if I could drive there I'd go to the grocery store just to walk around and people look, maybe buy a box of cereal bars and eat them all so I could take insulin once I got home.

Peace great Peace


7:03 AM  
Anonymous eric said...

You have a beautiful soul.

1:15 PM  
Blogger monicker said...

I hate grocery shopping above all other things.

8:41 PM  
Blogger Gledwood said...

heroin isn't a cure!

but you need a cure FOR heroin. that's for sure

(don't we all !!)

3:07 PM  

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