In-psyd Recovery

 I wake up.. was I asleep?  It's Friday. It's still dark. It's 6am at Castlecliff. My supported accommodation,  • A fortress of a place. Wind driven clouds from the north race above. Too high to be heard. But it'll be cold up there. Silence sits all around, here below. shelter from the night. In what little warmth the shelter offers. Down in my room at Castlecliff I keep all of that out. I slept the streets many years. I used to look up at castlecliff in my teens. Smoking down on the grassmarket daffodils and the grassy summer slopes.   A dark forbidding tower, no doubt. Over-hanging the steepest castle rocks- sheer rocks. I'd look up whenever I was hopping about that side of the Royal Mile.  People would jump the outside railings from one story to another. On a mission to cross and bypass the security. Hanging down from the outside walkways. Drugs. Hopping down railings and risking a high fkin fall. Just how it was. It'd be something that id be considering...

 You mind the tunnel. It's dark, dark. Dark wet brick, leads through to Niddrie. Bingham tunnel. Meet u at the tunnel 2 mins. Sound.  That's a dark forbidden tunnel. Its not you that wants to go down it, but it that wants you! I used to buy street vallies (1 & 2's) near there. There was a stream. A park. Green in spring, but still windswept and much needed open space come winter in a scheme where they piled everyone up back in the 30s.. 50s...  All gone now. Those buildings. That was before the people used Vallies. I'm not sure- I'm no expert (haha) - on the subject, but I think Diazepam (valium, Roche...etc) came about in the 70s. Anyway, it's a beautiful burn(stream). Its natural. They've left it be. There's no arseholes out trying to take the nature from the nature with their wee claw picky things.. you know the ones that you see some wee guy pretending to pick shit up round asda with... Leave the woodland be! It prefers to maintain itself... Magd...

 I'm the only beggar that knows.  Here.. this side of the town.. the ones who don't know. Earning peanuts.  Over to Causewayside, long walk, very long walk.  Might get change for a bus. But so be it.  I have my kit made up first thing. Got Chucky the night before. Aye the same the past 3 days, but my pal knows I'm good for it.  He gets the stuff -Barry stuff -up wester hailes way. Dead light in the spoon... proper rock! Barry charge. Cooks up and it's all that vinegar in my room. Christmas Eve in Poplar Lane.  Takes me fifteen minutes to find myself. I've been jaggin twenty years and I'm down on the inside of my legs! Horrible, ghastly mate.. I'm streaming in blood, but I feel right now. Cheers Robbie boy. Good mate.  Then again, I've sorted him out enough times already. All of them I have. All the other cunts in this place.  That Monty two doors down! I was along at his door just last night before I got tic. Knew he was in there-could smell ...

 In each corner we turn, we hit it too fast.. stop fucking hitting the corners man! A small car, out on the winter night. It's been December a while by the time I ride round the bends at Arthur's Seat. If two headlights are searching across the fields, it's ours. Me and my driver.  We're hitting the turns so fast. The beams dart over fields and grass, they turn.  Throw their daggers of light out, searching towards the loch.  Round they come and swinging out further into the dark where the road rears up and twists. Niddrie and further on, out in the distance. I can't see. We're going so fast.  With unpredictable caution the car slows at a moment. The light blares hard on a wall, scraping the bumper as the immediate threat of it's appearance is quashed as the driver turns his wheel in fright.  How does he not know what he's doing??! This Uber is going too fast. This driver can't Drive. Where did he learn?  I remember that boy in the jail. Was in and ou...

 * I wouldn't normally endorse any medication, but I've found buvidal to be a huge positive. This is my own personal experience, however. I sit in Spittal street and sit like I've done many times before when I wait for time to pass. I'm not impatient. Sat in many places like this and more. The seats, the walls. The very essence of the outdated lives on in here. Ambient faded green, cherry and redwood veneer. Further down the hall I'm moved to a room. With 3 I sit: A nurse, doctor and assistant in training.  It's strange... awkward even. Conversation is limited, but I don't mind.  Today I get buvidal. After 9 years..   With a few exceptional weeks, a few prison sentences.. for the last 9 years ive had a daily habit of one kind or the other. That's routine taken to an extreme only a habit can bring. Not a day without a high and a low..  Without a word the nurse injects something behind my right arm and like that... It's gone. All the days.. the handcuf...

 I can't really give you an explanation for the coming about of this blog. Over analysing has become an unwelcome habit.. it comes in waves.. Surges and relents.. ..  These thoughts can free your mind with explanations.. explanations that can provide a final word, as such...  But in tandem they tangle.. second guessing and ruminating..  Is there a reason?  ...But what of the contrary??  And so... I can try and look into the reasoning of my drug use. A myriad of different moments, paths and people appear in mind at a moment's notice.. all of them with their part to play or place in time. Many merely a witness, but others a forceful push.  It'd be a fair bit of labour to try and give an honest assessment of addiction.. and the web is full of personal accounts.... you can find them if you want.. Eyes Outward Upon reflection, modern Scotland is deeply intertwined with the language of addiction.  A seemingly contradictory place of highs and lows. Great...