South of Moosonee
D
-20/-28
Mom’s been back for two weeks now.
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I got wrecked at Marks last night.
He always has a huge bottle of whiskey that he mixes with ginger ale or water. Between that and smoking up I was super wrecked. Sometimes we do hot knifes then go downstairs and jam. We have our equipment set up around a small fireplace in the center of the basement. The floor is cement and gives the music a nice echoey sound. Marks acoustic guitar sounds amazing. He is connected to his guitar, I can see it when he plays, they are both the same instrument. I lack the talent and discipline to play an instrument. I can sing and I am a good at it because it comes easy to me. When we jam, I am in a world that takes me away from this one.
Tonight I smoked too much. I went to the washroom and started to make deals with God in the mirror. The usual shit, please let me come down and I will never smoke again etc... I hate when this happens because it means the evening is over, I’m useless when this happens. I feel like I’m staring out of two holes in my head, stuck deep inside.
I got into the blue bomb to go home and had to roll the windows down and stick my head out to see where I was going. The cold air felt good, it made my body feel real again. I could hear the snow crunching under the winter tires. I made it home without being pulled over by the police. I puked when I got home, then went to bed.
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I’m going to Timmins next weekend.
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Everyone belongs to something.
I want to belong to something.
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