untitled

April 12, 2010 at 9:35 pm (drugs) (, )

a needle in a vein and i am floating away
a black balloon and an overcast sky
and i never want to die

detatched thoughts come out and play
the same ones i’ve had before
my good old friends

rhymes without structure
and lines with no end
the deep dark emereld of a forest

the trees bend in the storm
i slip away into the wind
fading in and out

cling to the feeling
every second closer to leaving
and i’ll be back here again

on the cold hard ground
reality harsh and bright
i’ll never be found

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drug tests

April 12, 2010 at 9:15 pm (drugs, rant) (, , )

Suck. I went to Colonial Lanes for my first day of work today after my doctor’s appointment. The supervisor seemed surprised by my presence, took me back to the office where they mentioned something about having hired someone else and decided to track down Amelia (who, last Thursday, told me that I should come in Monday to start/that I just needed to bring in my prescription and the drug test was fine).

Apparently it wasn’t, because the fellow that had gone off with my cup of pee last week and some older lady informed me that I had tested positive. “Well, I’m on painkillers,” I informed them, as I had the prescription with me.

“One of them was positive for opium,” she said.

“Yeah,” I interjected.

“The other was positive for marijuana.”

I was unsure as to whether she was talking about two separate drug tests (i.e., mine and someone else’s) because the way she phrased it sure sounded like it (above is a rough approximation), but at that point I didn’t really give a fuck, said okay.

“Sorry,” she said, and I left.

Rather upset, actually. Thanks for wasting my time and invading my privacy, fuckwads. I can get behind drug tests for certain professions– cops, people who work in pharmacies/have access to drugs, etc– but calling people up to give them updates about bowling leagues? Really? What does it matter what I do in my free time? As long as I’m not high at work, they shouldn’t give a fuck. What does it really mean if I do drugs? That I’m not trustworthy? That I’m not a good worker? If I had a felony drug conviction and listed it on my application, they couldn’t use that information as grounds not to hire me or I could take them to court. So just because I haven’t gotten caught using drugs, I can be discriminated against because of it? Taking a puff of weed every so often is a fuck of a lot better than getting drunk off my ass all the time, but if I did the latter, I’d be making $9/hr bothering people at dinner right now.

Even if I didn’t do drugs, coming in to fill out an application under the pretense that I was already hired and then having a surprise cup to pee in shoved in my face rubs me the wrong way. I should have been informed of that part before I came in–i.e., when I talked to her on the phone, or in the ad for the job. I think drug tests in general are a pretty severe invasion of privacy, and constitute unreasonable search and seizure. Fourth amendment, motherfuckers. Quit making me pee in cups.

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eight forty five

April 12, 2010 at 8:58 pm (drugs, poetry) (, )

the bitter taste of a warm embrace
tumbles down your throat
white

and black
blink of your eyelids
the world opens in flame

red surface of another planet
reeling head says two and two make three
kaleidoscope wreck

scratch, scratch
scratch the termites at your door
run

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everyone i know goes away in the end

April 10, 2010 at 5:39 pm (drugs, hair) (, , )

I’m on the last of my Percs for now. I’ve taken three of them since I woke up at one. I have eight left, and because I will abuse them if they are within my reach, Jim is going to hide them so that we’ll have them for later. I really hope I can get a refill. If not, I will be trying the poppy seeds from By the Pound soon (although I don’t really like the idea of that method, as it’s unreliable), or ordering from the Philippines.

My hair doesn’t look so bad– I kind of like it. I’m going to bleach it again though, in about a week, once it’s recovered. I don’t know if I like the picture to the right– I couldn’t decide which one to put here, but it’s going to be that one, because there’s cleavage in it and I can’t post anything slutty to my Facebook. No one knows about this blog so I will post however much cleavage I want to the depths of the internet. Fuck you, certain family members and friends.

Also, I should probably note that I failed to stick to the resolution I made when I started writing this yesterday. I popped another perc this morning (and last evening) because it really fucking hurts. I wanted to use them with J, because it’s so awesome to be as close as it lets us, but I suppose I will just find some elsewhere.

I finished working on the Solio Productions website like Ari asked me to weeks ago. I really need to get organized, because while I could have done that sooner, I didn’t. It’s like if I’m even slightly busy with other things, it’s impossible for me to get stuff done. He said he’d pay me $50 though, which I’m really glad for, because yeah, I need it. I start working at Colonial Lanes on Monday, and am slightly freaked out about it. I don’t want to have to work while I’m recovering, but without the money, we’re going to be fucked. This should keep us going until I can get back to PJ’s. I still can’t believe I passed that drug test.

Things I hope to do this week: read a book other than the one Jodi Picoult novel I managed to finish, edit my Ohio documentary, apply to better jobs, write a poem/draw/other creative endeavor, finish my hair.

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