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.

Wednesday, February 16, 2005

Enigma

"You walked into the party
Like you were walking onto a yacht

Your hat strategically dipped below one eye

Your scarf it was apricot
You had one eye in the mirror

As you watched yourself gavotte
And all the girls dreamed that they'd be your partner
They'd be your partner..."

Soundtrack for this memoir - You're So Vain - Carly Simons

[Make me beautiful..........Love me right , should you need to. Heroinegirl 2001.]

I had just turned eighteen when I was introduced to The Ex who was eight years my senior. The nightclub walls glittered with flashing lights, as if studded with sapphires. My heart was racing with the adrenalin of being in a nightclub for the first time, the heavy bass throbbing through my body. I made my way to the back of the nightclub, dragged through the throng of sweaty ravers by my best friend Haley, to meet the lad they all adored, especially her.

I had heard so much about him before I was even allowed to meet him. I was advised not to talk to him first and under no circumstances could I ever ask him for drugs. I was guilty of being a Narc until I could be proven innocent. I guess it's another layer to peer pressure, you want to fit in and the drugs make it easier to do , in record time.

The Ex was always surrounded by a bevy of beauties, women wanted to fuck him and men wanted to be him. Everyone wanted in. The Ex was ruggedly handsome with a killer mix of boyish charm, his presence easily filled a room while his cheeky grin only spelt trouble.
Charisma oozed from his words and he spoke with an air of exaggerated confidence and sexuality. He was an enigma to many but never me. I felt he was just like me - but with no soul.
The Ex enjoyed a lothario reputation and in a small town that seems to go "for" a person rather than against. Over the next year, I watched his callous treatment of women who he dated or just fucked , my flatmate Haley for a tumultuous period of two years.
The Ex was "Digger" in our small town, one of the biggest providers of really nice pot and crystal meth. The Ex had several connections with biker gangs and other questionable characters that no one else could forge. To put it simply - he got the best drugs and that's what made him popular. I know from being his partner for many years afterwards, that this temporary rise to notoriety only made him hate himself more. He knew that people only hung around him to get drugs.. But it didn't stop him from using them back.

It was only after a falling out with my school friends that I sought company of older friends. Instantly, I felt satisfied - the exhillaration of the forbidden - I was a moth to the flame.
I realise now that I left home at 16 very naive. Even though my childhood had been sobering and had forced me to mature, I couldn't judge characters very well nor did I have a clear idea of the dangers of hanging around with the wrong crowd. The "wrong crowd" made me feel alive, I had never felt so free so it didn't matter that I had lost control. Haley had offered for me to live with her and her cats and a sense of hope for the future.

The Ex lived in a huge share house on the hill. It was always crowded with the town eccelectic, people camped out on the lounge room floor playing playstation, bearded folk playing cards in the kitchen, having sex in the bathroom, smoking pot in the laundry. Someone was always leaving and someone was always coming. Posters of Lou Reed and Nirvana crowded the den, guitar amps littered the loungeroom and the Orchy bottle bong lived under the sink. It was a magical house of sin, endless rooms of tangled sheets where youth had gone awry, where a nobody could finally be a somebody.

It was the kind of house that you would be banned from if you smoked too much of his weed, if you never drove him to drop off drug deals or if you dared to go above his head to get drugs. It was a place of cultural revolution and discovery, the only place on earth I could discover bulbs, Jane's Addiction, how to cook a good steak, Taxidriver and how to give deep throat in a single day.
It was not unlike the Mafia, everyone had a rank and a purpose and we all depended on each other for one thing only - ourselves.


I wasn't invited to the house until I could be trusted. The Ex refused Haley to bring me over to the house - I couldn't be trusted that if the police questioned me (they had the house under survellience) that I wouldn't start crying and blabbing. Of course being a rebel , I found this very insulting and I confronted the Ex about it. Suddenly, I had his attention.
Maybe this is what I've always wanted.

Things changed though when I was 18 and started to go to the nightclubs, which The Ex happened to run. The clout he had in the town was truly amazing. In the height of the Nirvana craze he dyed his hair blonde and it was short and scruffy, playing up his piercing blue eyes that flashed in the neon nightclub like a shark hunting out prey in the inky black. The ex and his male friends plied young girls with free drinks and sold drugs through the guise of the nightclub promotions. The Crystal was so good and the truth became lost in the prisms of light, he was the power and the source.

I loved the rush of the crystal meth and the way my skin sucked it up and my eyes wobbled with the sheer overload of pleasure. I wanted hands over me, in the slick sweat smog of the dancefloor and I got it - I just don't from who as the whole crowd spun in the strobe.

I spied The Ex fingering a girl, under her miniskirt - in full sight of the nightclub- when he saw I was looking - he gave me a wink that made the sweat trickle between my breasts and a throb under my skirt. I looked away but when I looked back he was still staring...that's the way it was.
He acted like a moviestar as only moviestars can. He broke many hearts and did a lot of people over, as only meth can.
My innocence was a strong aphrodisiac for him. I didn't smoke cones, I'd never touched a needle and I had only just lost my virginity. I had just turned 18 but I had an independence from living out a traumatic childhood that made me seem wise beyond my years.
Plus his best friend was sleeping with me - that was simply a slap in the face.
He was the star.

Neverless, I was embarrassed around the Ex, sometimes he would announce with disdain how I was young and naive and shouldn't be around the major players. I knew that I frustrated him as I made him question the authenticity of the whole scene. I saw his loneliness - as only someone who has found themselves can.
Whenever he would come over to visit my girlfriend, my heart would quicken as he would scruff my hair and kiss me on the cheek. I was just a kid to him. His relationship with Haley* (my flatmate and best friend) was best described as Courtney and Kurt. She was besotted with him and he was totally out of control. Haley hit the meth hard and The Ex pretended to not approve - until he wanted a hit himself. It was only a matter of time before The Ex moved into our house and started selling from the back bedroom. I didn't quite mind because he had the hottest friends and every night was party night. Haley would make huge roast dinners for recovery and at least eighteen people would crowd into our loungeroom , laughing and joking.

He would treat her like a dog at times and she would only beg for more.
She has never been the same girl since meeting him. Just like me.


It was a closed society and the drugs and good times were flowing. No raids had happened yet and we were all in the prime of our lives. I still speak to a few of those people, but after the Big Bang everyone virtually disappeared. In those early years though, I became determined that I would be the one to tame the beast. I knew in my heart that The Ex was craving love and stimulation - I knew that one day we would be together. We both knew it was only a matter of time , before our worlds would collide , it was written in the smile lines of our faces when we spoke to each other. It's the moth to the flame situation, all over again.

Haley became addicted the Meth, a highly addictive upper. No longer happy to let The Ex score for her (and subsequently tax a taste for himself) Hale's went above him and made connections with the major supplier. This was the kiss of death for my Flatmate , before all of us she became a skinny, sick and totally physcotic shell. She dreadlocked her hair and began to speak pure nonsense after staying awake for days on end. She looked like death and everyone was so worried that at any minute she would have a heart attack and her heart would just stop beating.

The change was gradual but terrifying. We no longer spent time just me and her - it was always about "getting on" first only on Friday nights and then it became whole weekends and then finally everyday. At the same time I met one of The Ex's sidemen who was absolutely gorgeous and I fell in love. Deep and crazy "sex in the public pool" kind of love. We spent nights chatting on the telephone and we listened to great music and he introduced me to The Cure.
Every girl remembers her first adult male - it's a rush to the head that you'll never forget.

It thrilled me to fuck his best friend right under The Ex's nose while he was busy battling with Haley over the speed dramas. I didn't realize it at the time but I was told much later on, that Aden protected me from a lot of the drugs and dealing that I was unaware was in my life. Aden would often pick me up in his ride and we would go and sleep and fool around in his mansion which he shared with his parents. The Ex had once lived with Adam but that soon went foul due to drugs. So, Aden had already started to suspect The Ex was out to damage many lives calling The Ex " The Puppet Master". He warned me to stay away from him and I listened for some time. It did seem true, The Ex seemed to live a clever life - scoring free drugs, beer money, free rent, sex and of course the adulation of peers that wanted their country town to be brought into the "rave scene" that was so popular with the cities.

Many times I would have to console Haley after she had walked in on The Ex in bed at his house with yet another naked door-girl from the club - often he would just laugh at her shaking with anger, pale as a ghost.
I can still hear her screaming asd his flatmates would peel her away from the door frame and throw her inside the car. Anyone that was anyone knew that he was fucking anything that moved , just because he could. No one doubted that Haley was too good for him, she had the cutest face and when it was good I remember he would draw love hearts and kittens on her hands...But when it was bad she would cut herself and bleed ...forever.

Eventually and gratefully they broke up. The Ex had become so disgusted with her appearance and pyschotic behavior, which was stinging considering that both of us had never even smoked pot before meeting The Ex. To keep her company, I started to snort speed with her as well and we began our own crazy journey, eventually planning to escape the country town and move back interstate. The Ex wouldn't be able to find us then - if we could just resist telling a single soul.. Forever being the co-dependent, The Ex pestered Haley around the clock to stay with him, lavishing the both of us with flowers and cards and numerous apologies.

Heroin hit the town when Haley's sister came to visit. I managed to completely avoid this scene but The Ex was not as fortunate. Needles and Smack was considered way heavier than a few lines of speed so consequently The Ex lost a lot of respect from the Biker Gangs and the players in the "uppers" scene. I learnt what "being on the nod" meant when I noticed the Ex sitting in the pub with a cigarette smoldering into his jeans. People started talking and raids went down to clamp down on the Heroin scare - it was after all a country town and the outcry was enormous. Everyone was forced to seperate and go underground, The Ex was fired from the nightclub as his Heroin use got out of hand.

I only had a faint idea that I really wanted to fuck him myself. It was faint in a way that an eighteen year old thinks about making a strategic move to get nailed.
It was unclear how I would fuck him... But you just know it will be.
Because your young and fabulous.
So you fuck one night and you're a celebrity
But you have no fucking idea what you have just walked into.

You had me several years ago
When I was still quite naive
Well, you said that we made such a pretty pair
And that you would never leave
But you gave away the things you loved
And one of them was me
I had some dreams they were clouds in my coffee
Clouds in my coffee

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Missed you during the Carnival and this post is full of incomplete stories that I hope you will be recalling soon. I hope you are keeping the PC usage limited, I have already wondered that you were spending a lot of time in front of the screen. Little blog steps, one at a time, headin'for those stars, I'll be in sight rang, your Iberian Friend

J. Walker said...

This is captivating. I wish i could have known you