A Note From The Writer



Welcome to the archived blog posts (when I was a wee blogger, wet behind the ears and not aware of spell check and various other gramatical structures!) I have kept the writings unedited or reworked as I am in the process of doing a massive rewrite of my entire life, many posts I have yet to publish and this blog was merely writing practise for the massive job of sorting out my emotions whilst retelling the story as cuttingly real and dramatic as the real memory was.. some of the posts contained are raw, streaming emotion.. many posts although painful to write, had a tremendously cathartic effect - cheaper than therapy one would say. I welcome new and old readers to keep in touch via my author email (sensualexplorersatHotmaildotcom) if you have any questions or wish to share the feelings and emotions raised by my work.
I will announce the publish date and title whenever it happens and I have been clean now for three years. It is possible.
But it is never easy. It's a lifelong journey, I will always be an addict, but I must stay one step ahead of myself and protect all that can be ruined in the eternal struggle to be
at ease once again, comfortable in this skin.
Thank you for being a part of my story.

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Behind The Soccer Club

"And I have learned to live, as it were, with the idea that I will never find peace and happiness, either. But as long as I know there's a pretty good chance I can get my hands on either one of them every once in a while, I do the best I can between high spots.” Hunter S. Thompson.

This is true and very sad. I don't think my boyfriend can read this.
This makes me sad. Maybe in time..it can be a happier story and not so personal. Maybe it will stop someone from trying heroin. Loving Heroin. Dying on Heroin. Maybe it is just a blog and I am just a part of your morning read.
Maybe today is your first day well or your worst day yet. Heroinegirl XX


The cars wash down the highway in mechanical waves, the full moon fills out my silhouette, I stand in the gutter illuminated by the occasional headlight. It is cold and I lost my jumper.
I am wearing a miniskirt and heels that always seem to work. I am 21 and slim.
That works too. In fact in spite of myself, I am still called beautiful , yet I suppose it is in a tragic way like a rosebud worn away from the stem. Just call me beautiful one more time, even though you are a stranger to me. Maybe I will start to believe?
I once believed I was better than this.
I once believed I could never do this.
Heroin. Need I say more.

My skin feels like greasy bitumen as the dust and sweat coats my legs from the
passing cars, that some times slow down, sometimes speed up.
The Waiting Game. I have been here for hours. All day and nearly all night. I feel like I am a hundred years old.

I have made about three hundred dollars but we have spent that on gear to get through the day and I needed more dope in the morning. So I take up my spot on the gutter and wish to the stars above that someone will come along soon.

My arms are goose bumps and my skin is all a shiver, everyone is going home to warm dinners and television but I have no home tonight. I wiggle my hips and make contact with a man passing in a black BMW. He shakes his head. But he does a lap of the street, all the same. He will work up the courage and return tommorow. You just wait and see.

I can feel the crumple of money in my back pocket but it is not enough to stop. I only have enough for half a hit. That will not do. So I swap sides of the highway; I hope they don’t call the police again. I'm nearly done. I feel the condom packet scratching my navel, hidden in case. One more condom. One more job. Done. Baby, I am nearly done in so many ways. Don't try to help me. It will only make both of us feel worse. I won't quit heroin right now - I just won't but I am sorry.
Just draw your curtains and pretend I am not here.
That's what I do.

The Man In The BMW returns, I see the client leaning over the passenger seat as the vehicle purrs into the pavement. I look to the right and I look to the side.
Then I get in the car and we drive. I don't speak much as I have nothing to really say to him - and I know he doesn't care anyway.

"Take me to the soccer club."
I show the middle aged businessman the way and I think he is frightened that someone will see us. I try and make him feel safe but in reality - I don't really care. . Like I am going to kill you.
I can see the client is keen even though what he is doing is not what he would usually do. He is exhillarated and petrified in the same pathetic moment. I am quiet. Let's get this over with. Pay upfront and no kissing.
I can do it in the back of the BMW.

I can bend into all kinds of lusty shapes as you thrust me in the back of the BMW. I can hide down low, so nobody sees me?

We don’t know each others names - but baby we don't need to.
We just move in awkward silence, I jerk you off well and proper. This suprises you with the crassness of my eager rubbing - you come on yourself - before you even know what happened. You only absorb what happened when you look down to the spreading stain on your jeans. the sadness you feel in your heart. Maybe for me. Maybe for yourself. But I am gone , so don't fucking worry about it. Don't pretend your better than me until you turn the corner and go home to your toddlers and you wives. I sound bitter but it's true.

To many men I became an addiction. I made sure of it in order to survive.
The men will keep pulling over for me and I will keep coming onto them. We live in a sex symbiosis; only my survival really does depend on what I do. Deep throat for a dime.

As I have warned you many times sweet client, don't even try to trick me at tricking. I know the drill because I made the drill.

We don't have any rules of engagement down here, in the dark place inside your leather bound interiors, it is all hope and pray. You make it my sole purpose in life to get you off and my main goal is to get out alive. I did this because I chose to be a junkie..and now I am addicted like nothing I could ever imagine.
I make myself sick everyday and all I want to do is stop wanting.
Stop needing. Stopping hitting up junk.
I am dopesick and I feel it is time that I contemplated this is my lot.

Pay before your pull down your pants. I am gentle with you, but it makes me tougher on the
inside. You don't make me come. You don't mean anything to me after I get my drugs. I hope your wife finds out and you get counselling. I hope you wash well. I hope that you never forget my face - but I know that you will.
That's the way life goes.

Don’t ask me my name. You never saw me and you don’t know me.
When I see you at the supermarket I won't pay you any notice. So stop fucking freaking out.I was too high to remember what the fuck I did with you or what house we went to and I need it to stay that way. I am not your friend.
I am definately not going to stop whoring and be your girlfriend.
I need to pay for my drugs. I wish it could be different for us.
Maybe.

I feel for what you what me to find and I yank it like you ask for. Enough.
I never promised you anymore. Only myself. I will not remember you because I can't.

I can't forget the taste.
I can't forget the fear.

I will never forget how the bushes felt beneath my naked behind as I was pummeled deep into them, but I was paid – so it was ok. No one knew what happened behind the soccer club but me and you. And fourty others.

I won't stain your suit. I won’t leave my lipstick in your car or the condom wrapper underneath the child restraint. But then again, maybe today I might.
Ruin your life , like you seem to take from mine. You barter down my pride.
You wont give me fifty cos you know I will settle for twenty cos thats what Janey is getting lately and she does it without a condom. Whatever it takes. Janey is sicker than me and she is fourty-five. She don't have my legs or my face.

She has to do a lot more and it shows.

Time passes with the man in the BMW and decides I'm not even worth fifty anymore. You used to pay so much more ??? Who has changed - me or you?
As you turn the key in the ignition – I stop you.
I say yes. Everything else inside me screamed no.

But the Heroin spoke for me.

We had come this far and I might as well. It will only take a moment. But it doesn’t and my mascara is running and my mouth is sore. You work me well.
You hold me by the ponytail and inside my mind I am choking on myself rather than you. You yank me away and you come on the oil rag you got from the boot. I hike up my underwear and reapply my lipstick in the rearview. At least you wore a condom. Next time you will see someone else, but at least I remain clean for one more night.

I am better than this – if I dare to get over this. If I can live through this, then I will be fine. But for now, it only costs you 20. To have me and everything I can give. Just ask me – I will sell you whatever I can find of myself.

Running into the red. Drowning in your debt. That's me.
Fucking myself over till the day I die.

Heroinegirl




25 comments:

HeroineGirl said...

I didn't win an award on Tony Pierce, poo.
I mean I know that I should just write and not be a show pony but I also a part of me is like "look at me" "hear my story" "help my cause" ( fighting drugs and sex work not publishing my story - that is a dream)
Anyhows, I had to complain to someone, lol, and it is my blog so I am hiding in here and having a sooky la la moment. Cause I can !

Love you all
HG

p.s Someone could always make up an award and present it to me so I don't feel so sooky. A nice jpg award and email it to me, if you like. LOL.

No pressure. HG ! I am so bad !
I am in time out now, sitting in the corner until I am a better sport.

Duncehats and Dissapointment,
HG

Myles said...

Reading your memoirs makes me want to rage, to scream, to wrap my arms around you and hug you until I can stop choking on the tears filling my eyes. You are so courageous. May this honest scraping of your soul and shedding of the past make your future shine bright.

Sarcastic Ornery Barista said...

Pretty intense writing HG. If I had a clue about photoshop, I'd email you an award.

Garrison Steelle said...

Personally, I love it.

Is writing something we do for others, though, or do we do it for ourselves, to somehow cleanse our soul?

-G

Mumr Calamus said...

well, currently I am attempting an award, lets see how it goes. :)

Michael said...

yeah..big props for your photoshop skills..bigger props for your writing. as always.

shadowx said...

Don't lose faith in your writing just because you didn't win an award!! Your blog is great and obviously there are others who think so. Your day will come, girl!

HeroineGirl said...

Ok I feel better now. Thanks.
I spent last night reading this book on publishing.
Daunting stuff ! I have to start to get these memoirs in some kind of sequence and put together a synopsis and of course submit an ending as well, which I am not sure where it ends, with me getting better or blogging about it or even writing the book. I am starting to get organised though, which trust me is entirely new for the fairy (me) At this stage, I am just going with the creative urge, posting the memoirs and getting them down. Then I have to think of how I want them to be presented. I like the memoir/journal format - however the catch is that when I was a junkie - there would be no way I would have time to write a journal. I have to keep it real - that is v. important. Just thinking out aloud, feel free to share your wisdom as you are all very smart in my eyes. All my brilliant writer friends :)

Love
HG

HeroineGirl said...

someone just suggested doing a short story.
Gayness. Blegh. I am not gonna settle for that.
I believe that this can be a whole book of it's own.
Where is everyone?

Fat Dude said...

nah, write a novel. just keep writing. don't get all involved in where it's going, who it's going to and how can i get people to read it.

just write it. finish it. read it. flush it. repeat. then, when you truly feel it's over, take a few days off. relax. go back and read it. find it a home.

rgpeabody said...

cool

Sk8RN said...

Having someone talk you down in price seems so degrading. I feel the same with my friends who sell their art - how can they let someone talk them down? They are selling a piece of themselves. I hope in life, you get closer to what you deserve now. Your life is precious. There is no bargaining with that.

Mumr Calamus said...

Athough you are writing about the times as you remember them, you would like to have everyone who reads them experience it even just once (only through the writing of course) so that they can not ever have the urge to try. (course this is my opinion after reading much of your blog so if i am off i am sorry) But that will never change the fact that you are older, wiser, and much more lived than you were when it was happening. The voice of wisdom will always be there in your writing, but it makes it all the more powerfull. You are an excelent writer, don't let anyone tell you different. FatDude said it well. and so did MegaDeath in sweating bullets "hindsight is always 20/20, looking back its still a bit fuzzy" you do good. Keep it up! :)

deanne said...

Hm. There *is* something in the short story idea though. How would you feel about a *collection* of short stories? This way you wouldn't have to go with the "diary" format, and could stick with the memoir format (which is excellent btw).

On another note, it's staggering you could go through things like the above memoir (and others of course) and come out so well -- scarred, but beautifully so.

Screw the "Tony Pierce award" -- that's bullshit and means nothing anyway. You need to be PUBLISHED, not bestowed with some second rate crap "award" that only exists here in la-la-cyber-land.

Have you considered approaching charities, and discussing the idea of them "sponsoring" you? Just an idea that popped into my fluffy little head!

Oh -- and that html link we were talking about is http://www.htmlbasix.com/

Peas on earth.
x.
d

HeroineGirl said...

Thank you Miss D.
I am going to go study right now !

Thank you guys for the comments about publishing ! You are always so right - this is why I ask you guys ! You are my crystal ball ! I am just going to keep on writing, I have about 20 memoirs to go.
Maybe more.

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