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When I look back through these entries, I don't see an account of how it was, just a description of how I wished it to be. I wanted to achieve raw truth, but what I got was sugar-coated summaries.
I went out for Chinese food with Lisa earlier this evening. I had a goal of staying meat-free throughout the entire meal, but couldn't figure out exactly how to go about that. When it came time to order, at the urging of my former-vegan dining companion, we ordered two meat-laden appetizers and one meat-intensive main dish. I don't think I'm going to need to process animal matter for another month.
During the course of our dinner conversation, between her account of her trip to Seattle, and her latest art-school project, Lisa told me that she had recently tried Oxycotin, just for kicks. The news disgusted me. I couldn't look at her, and I tried not to let the entire restraunt hear me when I said "that was dumb. Don't ever fucking do that again." I knew it was her first experience with powerful opiates. She should know better, and although she assured me that she understood the dangers of abusing such substances, she seemed to have a fanciful, cool image of the product.
I took a few more bites of pineapple chicken and I told her "I'm serious, I'll worry if you ever do that again." I think my sudden gravity toward the subject surprised her. I told her that one of my reasons for feeling so strongly about it is a few people I've known who got sucked into the world of heroin addiction. I consider this a few too many.
However, deep down inside, I know that my central issue with opiate abuse is the fact that I would love abusing opiates. I mainly just stick to beer these days (I'm kinda drunk right now,) and even that I make a conscios effort to cut down on, but I always have a vice. That vice has been many things: ritalin, marijuana, lsd, ketamine, benzodiazapines, cocaine, and of course, beer. Whatever it is, ever since my doctor started prescribing me to excessive amounts of ADD medication when I was 15, I've always needed something either at the end of the day, or just to get me through the day. I've been a casual-buzz junkie for years. I would be a prime candidate for heroin addiction, if I were ever to let myself get into that, which I wouldn't. It worries me just assosciating with such people (even if they are people I once cared deeply about.) That scene is where the casual vice becomes a lifestyle.
Maybe I'm going a bit overboard, afterall, I don't think Lisa is the type to get hooked on hard drugs. In fact, maybe she just tried it to break apart from her image of innocense. I don't know.
I lost my fortune from he end of the meal. I believe it said "The truth can be stretched, but never broken." Lisa's cookie didn't have a fortune. How unfortunate.