Due to the fact that I again received my weekend supply of narcotic refreshment, I am currently unable to sleep. Again. But as I mentioned in a previous post, I'm not sorry!
I think I would be far more upset if I hadn't spent the whole weekend in a drug induced stupor. Well, maybe stupor is the wrong word. I would say it was more of a soft, fluffy reality. Don't get me wrong, I love to do a shot that knocks my dick in the dirt as much as the next (sometimes) Heroin addicted hooker. I can never get enough of that itchy rush but....there is something to be said for moderation.
I'm sure I don't have to tell you that I am not the poster girl for holding back. Moderation has never been my strong point in any way, shape or form.
I think the reason I am able to use sparingly in the case of H is nothing more than my innate need to milk every last drop of sensation from the experience.
After all, how much can I possibly enjoy being loaded if I got so gowed out that I can't remember past the point of injection.
Now I have had some marvelous times which involved waking up, needle still embedded in my body. I've always considered that the ultimate on the "what the fuck happened" scale.
1 is having to ask someone to repeat themselves cause you zoned out, 5 is waking up a half hour after you fixed, still standing at the sink rinsing your outfit and 10 is waking up the next day, syringe dangling precariously from some appendage, wondering in fact: what time is it, what day is it and what the fuck happened! This can possibly be boosted to 10&1/2 if you are also naked in a strange room when you wake up.
However, as memorable as my "what the fuck " experiences have been, I find that in recent days I have been more inclined to savor my high. I have been careful to do just enough that I get a good rush (my veins have slowly but surely been re-emerging) and then lapse into a semi-conscious state.
I can still nod a bit and dream but if someone asks me a question I will be able answer it. Whether they will be able to comprehend my answer or not is irrelevant. What matters is that I am still coherent enough to hear the question.
In the case of C. or Casey as it were (Eddie outed him on his comments earlier tonight), he does the same. Indulging just enough to get nice and loaded and still be aware enough to enjoy it. This also seems to be just the right balance to encourage the appearance of that oft elusive creature, "The Heroin Hard-on"
For those of you who aren't in the know, the heroin hard-on is what happens to most guys after they first start using. They get this incredibly stiff dick that seems to last forever. They are overjoyed and will usually use any excuse to show it off Ala fucking for hours on end. However, after a few sessions of marathon sex with no end in sight, they become more and more disenchanted with the whole thing. You see, for some reason though they are able to achieve and sustain a hard-on of massive proportions, they are (unfortunately for them) unable to cum. It takes some determined practice to work past (or should I say cum past) this frustrating road block.
The other side of this coin is the much lamented H induced impotence (which becomes more and more frequent as addiction progresses), during which no amount of vigorous hand or mouth action can rouse the sleeping lion. Unfortunately I have found that most guys that are using consistently, every day tend to fluctuate back and forth between up and down, depending on how much they have shot that day.
Strangely enough, being Dope-sick is extremely conducive to orgasm, I used to know fiend couples that would wait to fix, just so they could get off first. I was never that determined to get off.
Hmm, get rid of icky, skin crawly, I wish I were dead feeling or have sex just to cum even though the thought of someone touching me right now makes me want to cut my own throat. I wonder?
Anyway, with a little experimentation, we have found that happy medium which allows us to get fucked up and fuck each other, with mutually satisfying results.
Just one more thing to add to my (woefully short) list of reasons why I like being here. God know I could use as many reasons as I can get my hands on. Good sex definitely goes on the pro side as does having money to spend on completely frivolous, unnecessary items and of course at the top, just being able to be with Casey (AWWW...GAG).
On the con side, well too much shit to list, I mean fuck, I would be here all god damned night. I was just not cut out for life in the Southwest. For one thing, I hate the climate. And the surroundings!
If I have to listen to one more person waxing poetic on the "Desolate Beauty" of the New Mexico desert, I will shit myself! Fucking idiots! It's a desert for Christ's sake, there is nothing even remotely beautiful about a never ending landscape the color of dead grass and rust. I mean come on!
I really believe that the people who go on and on about the beauty of New Mexico are those same morons who go on e-bay to buy tumbleweeds. Imagine such stupidity! Paying someone out west to fed-ex you what amounts to...well, a weed, just so you can stick it in your front yard to give it an "authentic" western feel. I am at a loss for words! Well, almost anyway.
Yours for as long as you can stand me, Melody.
