SWIM doesn't know what happened today, yesterday, or the day before that for that matter. This week has flown past in a drug-induced blur once again. How did this happen? Mark isn't here, she can’t blame ‘the boyfriend’. No, it’s all SWIM this time.
Monday SWIM rang 'D', she only had a score on her, so i'm not sure what she was expecting, but 'D' invited SWIM around for some beers anyway and then when she got there she ended up getting a twenty deal of white (utterly pointless).
SWIM shared a beer or two afterwards and watched ‘Kiss of the Dragon’: Kung-Fu night on Channel Five meant an excellent Jet-Li film, then walked home (the longest walk SWIM has ever taken, freezing cold and fog so thick she couldn’t see more than two feet in front of her) and then watched John Woo’s ‘The Killer’, starring Chow Yun Fat (another top-class movie), before hitting the hay for fourteen hours, yes that’s right folks, fourteen hours.
Woke up, 'D' phoned. SWIM had the night before (apparently), arranged to meet him the next day for a ‘proper’ smoke. SWIM didn’t really want to do it but felt compelled (well, she had to go to the bank anyway, so why the hell not, eh?).
Meanwhile SWIM didn’t eat for two days. Spent stupid amounts of money on crack-cocaine and a little on brown. Got a cab home at stupid o’clock in the morning, brown still largely intact. So SWIM's been sniffin’ that all day…….
SWIM must got to uni in the morning. Needs to go to Journalism (missed it for two weeks), sort out career development loan, sort out her college ID card, sort out her life, seriously though, this time enough is enough.
SWIM realises she keeps talkin’ the talk but she just ain’t walkin’ the walk. She's three weeks into her college course and she can already feel her world slipping.
When things begin to go well for SWIM it’s kinda like she just hits the self-destruct button.
For example (the drugs aside for a minute), SWIM sat here, alone in her flat, in the early hours of this morning stripping the skin from her fingers using her teeth as a weapon until her fingers were a congealed mass of blood and flesh, red-raw needless to say. They didn’t hurt of course, her friend 'bobby' took care of that. What a bollocks existence though. It was about then that SWIM told SWIM to GET A LIFE.
So anyway, SWIM listened and SWIM made the decision that she will not be going to 'D’s' anymore, SWIM is gonna nip that one in the bud. Friends that smoke, aren’t friends of SWIM anymore from TODAY.
Tommorrow SWIM shall go to college and do what she's gotta do. In the afternoon SWIM is gonna come home and finish off the rest of the brown that she's got left (if she stayed up any later tonight to finish it, she probably would end up missing college and SWIM isn't at the stage yet where she could just let good drugs go to waste), chill out, do some reading, do some writing, eat a decent meal, and get her head straightened out a little ready for Friday, cos Friday is ‘D-Day’.
SWIM has decided to get her tiny butt down the local drugs project (drop-in day centre where she lives) and get some proper help sorted out. If she's gonna do this, she can’t do it alone, even the (seriously) good advice she gets off pals on DF ain't enough to sort this one out, so she's calling in the pro’s.
Pickin' SWIM-self up again, so today she is counting as day one without crack cocaine (21 hours since she last used).
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Calling in the Professionals.....