Tuesday, July 8, 2008

I wanna do wrong 'cause being bad is what I'm good at.

I would tell you that I'm trying my best to be a good girl but that would be a lie. For some reason I find that I am compulsively pre-disposed to being a very bad girl. Not so much in the way of killing, maiming ect but in the way that I almost always zero in on the worst possible scenario for any given situation. If for instance, I was faced with two choices, one being the safe thing to do, the other being the incredibly risky, stupid thing to do, I would invariably pick the latter.
I hate to be bored and doing things like wandering the mean streets of the projects at 2am is anything but boring. It is only now, after some months of being (reasonably) sober, that I have come to truly realize the extent of my all or nothing attitude. I think about some of the shit that I did and find myself shaking my head at the sheer stupidity of it.
In retrospect, I can clearly see that getting into strange cars during the wee hours of the morning is not a good idea(always make sure you can at least see who's picking you up). Likewise getting so fucked up that I run the risk of going to jail just by setting foot out the door. And you better believe I will set foot out the door.
For some reason getting unbelievably high seems to go hand in hand with staggering down to the am pm to get some smokes, candy and a Pepsi. If it happens to be 3am on a Saturday morning, so much the better. I will then have the opportunity to say hi to any friends who happen to be making their way home from the bars. I am a very social girl and though you may find this hard to believe, I make friends everywhere I go. People tend to love me or hate me with no in between, which suits me fine. (I can't stand wishy-washy types)
On any given night, (after Casey had defected to New Mexico) I could be found determinedly unwinding after a hard day(no pun intended) turning tricks. I might be spotted nodding out on the couch of my friends tattoo shop, knocking back shots at the bar or even holding court at the home of one of my fiend friends, needle in hand.
I have mentioned in a previous post that some of my devil may care ways may have been inspired by the fact that I was missing Casey something awful and doing my best to drink, fight and fuck him out of my system.
Anyway, whether or not Casey was the underlying reason for my behavior I cannot say with any certainty. I do know however, that I was doing my damnedest to throw myself into any and every dicey situation that crossed my path. Death wish? Certainly not!
At the risk of being repetitive, let me again say, I hate being bored. And Farmington, New Mexico is the capitol of boredom. I have had Casey tell me over and over that I need to get out and do something but any of you who have read my previous posts know how I feel about playing the role of benevolent former junky. BLUARGH!
It would seem to me that at this point I have nothing better to do than go looking for trouble to get into. I have on more than one occasion had to literally talk myself out of doing just that.This is a very trying experience for me. I don't know what to do with myself. Even staying home I am inviting trouble by the increased frequency of "deliveries " from my Internet friend. Yes Darlings, only someone as truly outstanding as myself can figure out a way to get strung out via cross country mail. Astounding is it not? I am not retarded, I am exceptional!
I know that I need to get my shit straight, at least where Casey is concerned. I promised my Mama that I wouldn't come all the way out here just to wreck him and then leave. Even now I get chills thinking of the faith my mother places in me. Wreck him and leave? I would hope that my family held me in a little higher regard but what can I say, my mom knows her little girl. I can be vindictive on occasion.
I guess she thought that Casey up and leaving me to get his life together might provoke me into some spiteful behavior. It did. However, by the time I left for NM, I had all but gotten it out of my system, leaving a trail of broken hearts and empty wallets behind me, in Bakers.
So here I am, not sure what to do with myself and unfortunately full of clever ideas. I have thought up all sorts or interesting things to keep me busy. None of them the least bit productive or constructive. Some of them involve recruiting others for my nefarious purposes, New Mexico is just overflowing with zombiefied kids looking for something, anything to alleviate the boredom.
I will do my best to stifle this particular urge, as corrupting kiddies is not on my 'to do' list.
This will not be easy! I feel like I am stagnating here, in this little mud puddle. I feel like the essence of my very being is being leeched out of me. How can I continue being my smart-assed street-loving self when I am denied the street?
I suppose I will resign myself to becoming a somewhat less glorious version of my former self. A bad facsimile of the original. Although........ I really believe that what Casey doesn't know won't hurt him. Hmmm, that has definite possibilities.
With that parting thought, I leave you with the words of the inimitable Mae West,
"When I'm good, I'm very, very good but when I'm bad I'm even better!"