When the smack begins to flow, I really don’t care anymore
Yesterday I was sitting outside St Leonards station before heading home from work and an old man with a long-neck in hand came up to me to ask for a cigarette. Then he started talking about how he is “from the clinic” and I had no idea what he was talking about so he explained how there is a methadone clinic nearby which is run by a man who was “on the needle” for twenty-six years and was a hardcore criminal to support his habit and has since cleaned up and opened up a rehab centre! The man I was talking to, Billy, has been clean for nine months but now drinks a lot. He has a two-year-old son called Alex. It made me so…sad? I really wanted to sit there talking to him for hours but I was cold and had to head home and he was having trouble stringing sentences. Before I left he asked me if I had any change. I hope I didn’t contribute to fucking up his getting-clean process but I guess that’s his decision and not for me to meddle with. And I gave him three more cigarettes and my lighter before I left. He looked so surprised that I was willing to shake his hand. I guess ‘normal’ people mostly avoid him. It made me realise I should stop dwelling on my trivial problems.
Positive: I’ve written 815/2000 words for my essay.
Negative: It’s all really poorly written and has no point and the essay is now so late I don’t even know if they will accept it, so I’m really likely to fail another subject. The even worse thing is that I really enjoyed studying this unlike the other subject I failed, Political Economy, which was the bane of my existence.
Positive: Looks like I’ll get out of having to work again today.
Negative: Because I am sick again. My body hates me.
Positive: I had the funniest conversation via emails with Annie yesterday.