I feel like using. Maybe not drugs, but I don’t want to feel this. I want to get away. I was supposed to fuck Sam in the parking lot again but I didn’t want to. I feel like pussy is just filling the void for a little bit and then when it’s gone, it’s bigger than it was before.

Today, some kid at school was talking about weed and he had like a half-eighth on him. The girls he was talking to were begging him to smoke them out, and he was trying to charge them $5 a hit and kept saying, “Ah man, this shit is so fire,” and, “Ah, this shit’s fire,” over and over again. The kid sounds like a fucking faggot with his little 1.4 grams of weed. I kept thinking, “What the fuck am I doing here?” I hate these people, I hate this school. 

I stopped smoking weed after I got arrested in eighth grade for it. I was getting drug tested so I just stopped, and after a while it just lost its appeal. I started doing coke a lot more cause it was the only drug that stayed in your system for only 48 hours. After a night of doing coke, I’d come home and try to talk to my parents, trying to control my lock jaw, trying not to sniffle and make it obvious. Rush to my room immediately, lock my door — man, the things I did behind locked doors — run to the bathroom, lock the bathroom door, run the sink, grab the powder out my sock, pour it on the counter top, roll up a dollar bill and inhale through my left nostril holding my other nostril for better suction. I’d take down three lines. Staring at my reflection in the mirror, chewing the inside of my cheeks, leaning my head back, pulling apart my nostrils and inhaling again to get it all the way up there, the coke rushing down my throat. As soon as I turned off the sink I’d hear my mother, “Bryan, are you ok?” My heart pounding, “Yeah, mom, ugh. I’m fine, good night.” Mouth numb, she’d leave and I’d finish the rest of the coke in my room with the TV playing all night. Alone in my room, jerking off to Girls Gone Wild infomercials, doing lines.

That’s mainly how middle school went for me, smoking blunts, driving around, going to parties, getting new coke connects, coming home and finishing the coke I didn’t sell at the party, hooking up with girls, making up stories, exaggerating everything, taking out my mom’s car, then it just all stopped and I never made it to the party. I just got coke and went home, got coke and went to someone’s house, waking up in the morning looking for coke… then crack and then Oxys came.

I think I write just so I can escape. When I’m writing, it brings me back and out of myself, I forget where I am. The walls of this place dissolve away, the noise cancels out and I’m someplace else. 

I’m stressed about Algebra 2. I should be going to tutoring today but I’m pretty sure I’m just going home to fuck Sam. I’m trying to bribe someone from first hour to give me the answers for Friday’s test… yeah real spiritual, Bryan. I’m so fucking lazy. I say I need to work hard and I know I need to get tutoring, but here I am, fucking fishing for excuses and cheating. Maybe I’m too hard on myself, maybe it’s not that big of a deal.

It's times like these where recovery comes into play, not meetings. It’s about the other 23 hours in the day…

FUCK
        IT,
                  I’M BRIBING SOMEONE.

They say fuck it is the short version of the serenity prayer….

I feel fat today…

March 5th, 2009

Yesterday, I felt like shit. Not motivated, wanting to isolate. I tried to come up with every excuse to not go to my H&I commitment with The Mad Russian. I felt pretty shitty on the way there.
   
We picked up this guy, Andrew, and his message was incredible. When I see people struggle and stay clean, it assures me that I never have to use again. He’s got HIV and Hep C and was talking about going through the medication clean. Some people just have a gift, they are great speakers. Tonight, Andrew killed it. It’s always when I don’t want to go that I hear exactly what I need to hear. I drove Andrew home, gave him a big hug and he told me to keep doing what I’m doing. 

Today at lunch, I brought Sam to the parking lot and fucked her to the new Young Jeezy CD The Mad Russian gave me. She was wearing no panties and a sundress with flowers on it and dark brown sandals. She has serious tan lines from being at the beach, it's hot. I was wearing these dorky boxers with little fishes on them. I was getting my dick sucked, leaning my head back, rubbing her ass and thighs. Sam is a petite blonde hippie girl, with a few freckles on her face, blonde hair, always wearing dresses and sandals. She has an innocent face and a small mouth. We were in the back seat, my shorts and boxers down to my ankles, my dick in her pretty mouth, she was jerking it from the bottom and sucking the top. I held up her hair and looked at her real good until she made eye contact with me. God, I love that. Look at me when you suck my cock, bitch… and then I looked out the window. I was staring out the window, kids walking back to class. Any one could just walk by and see us at any time. I look up at the sky and I felt so empty. Nothing, no THING, can fill the void. I almost have a year clean, but I remembered when I got high for the last time with James and I was looking out that window, wanting to die, feeling empty. It’s not as severe, but the hole is still there. I started to get soft so I put my dick back into my pants. The bell rang and we walked back to class in silence. Before we got back to class, she looked like she was about to cry. “Was I not doing it good enough” she asks. I smile and grab her ass before we walk into class. “Nah it’s not that. I’m just not feeling good.”