So, I throw myself into art, to try to keep my mind off heroin. This has led to a flurry of creative activity. I have given a lot of time, money, and effort to my photography, lately. I feel good about it. Even if I don’t get the September show – I’ve been doing some really work I’m really proud of.
And yet… I feel like I am hanging by a thread, lately. I am struggling not to think the wrong thoughts, or do the wrong thing, but… I don’t know how to live the way other people do. Handling the regular, day to day, BS… I am just not equipped.
And, this pain… I need to eat better. I am going to make an effort to do that, today, because my stomach is KILLING me. I didn’t even consider heroin the last time it got ugly (and I mean UGLY) – I just told Charlie to call a cab. The hospital was the only recourse I really let myself consider.
I don’t know. I’m trying. I’m back to leaning on the promises I make to Ace… not to hurt myself, and not to use any smack…
I know, I have shared this excerpt of my play before, but I am going to do so again, because I need to remind myself (btw, I have begun tinkering with the play, again, but I have yet to really start pounding into it):
“NOAM: People do it. I’m doing it. Yeah, it’s hard, but… it’s not like the life you’re living is easy. (Slight pause) Not eating… because, hunger doesn’t hurt as much as withdrawal… that’s hard. (Slight pause) Barely keeping the lights on, and the rent paid… (Slight pause) because you’re surviving on hand outs… from people you hate… (Brief pause, then, quietly) that’s hard. (With certainty) And, when the hand outs stop… that’ll be even harder. (Slight pause, then, becoming grave) This life is isolating, and it takes your money, your health… your fucking freedom… it kills possibilities, one at a time… and, you either don’t care what’s happening… or, just you feel powerless to stop it – like it’s something you’re watching, instead of something you’re living. (Slight pause) And, when you look back, and all you see… is time that got away from you… that’s hard. (Slight pause, then, becoming increasingly hard, and intense) Living… surviving… disappointed… with memories, that prey on your mind, tearing at what’s left of your sanity… without optimism, or illusions… just, seeing that, stretched out in front of you… like an empty road, that runs right into the horizon… THAT’S HARD.”
– “So Much It Hurts”