its monday…..
where to take this today….
so many memories in my head….
52 years of mementos n souvenirs
most days i thank my lucky starrs
that im no longer a slave to the gear….
somedays i feel like i still have all the time in the world
otherdays i feel the future like a rope round my neck
at times i feel so lucky
othertimes i wonder how i coulda got everything so wrong
bitter regrets
if only if only if only
i’ll be standing there doing yoga
my mind a blank….
then…..
wonderfully projected on that blank mind
a scene from my life
where i snubbed/sneered/cheated/fiddled/blanked/lied
exaggerated/embarrassed/hounded/nagged/belittled
etc/etc/etc
somebody
especially the ratbag the junk unleashed
one day
when it all doesnt hurt
well…
i have a book in me about my gear “adventures”
in sweden, easily
an australian junky negotiating the mean cold streets
of stockholm
getting ripped off
getting high
being chased, punched, followed, ignored
freezing in arctic stations
melting into the shadows of the long summer evenings
furtive exchanges on trains
sittin back at home in my lovely apt
blasted on the excellent svenska scag
watching fluffy snow swirling round n round
i could see statshuset from my window
thats like parliament house
i had a lovely modern kitchen
tiny but elegant
elli n minna would sit at my table
eating baked beans on toast
sitting on art deco stools
the kitchen was ,like, salmon pink
with deep blue tiles
bare polished floorboards
i slept in a little loft above the hallway
i crept up to my bed by a little ladder
oh it was so cosy when it was dark and snowing
my apartment was always a perfect temperature too
you could walk round in yer undies
when it was minus 30 outside
there were no draughts
no cold spots
it was heated by these radiators
which filled with warm water
(you couldnt even burn yerself…..)
all by themselves
and voila
the place was always cosy as toast
too stuffy..?
crack a window a little
let that fresh nordic air in then
my apt was basically one huge room
marty used to crash there all the time
when he was in sweden….
sometimes i stupidly felt sorry for other idiots
on the gear like me
and let em come around my rather upmarket apt.
one guy was freezing and hungry
i didnt have much
so i made him the sk staple in those bleak days:
semolina pudding
after this particular harmless but stupid idiot
had fixed up and dropped some pills
he was so blissfully out of it
he sat down his his semolina and then
went and sat all over my apt
with semolina pudding stuck to his bum
i got angry and threw ‘im back out into the snow
another idiot
after i’d given him shelter n food
i caught him red handed stealing 500 crowns
outta my coat pocket
i said lasse
how could ya do that to me
he says
i was cleaning up for you
and i was cleaning your pockets too
and i thought this was an old bit of paper….
the idiot was believing his tale
even as he made it up!
he stared up innocently
after he was about to rob me blind
another nassty ratbag called leffe
sold me 2000 crowns worth of raspberry cordial
that did NOT have methodone innit
and i was sick like a donkey
by the time i found out….
talk about a dog eat dog world
the swedish narkomen n women
could not be trusted
wow!
rude awakenings
cold ripped off dawns
empty handed in some station
silence of the snow
waiting
always waiting
at home
waiting for kjelle
a huge blond dealer
looked like an over sized matt damon
smoked ro-hypnol off an aluminium foil
before his shot
sometimes he gave me credit
i was the only one of his clients who was human he said
or there was dagge
i was with him once
he stole this car
he just had a little pick he use
started it up
picked up 2 other wretches
drive to this industrial suburb
there dagge n these other 2 idiots
shoot up in the car out the back of some factory
its cold n its snowing
one guy greedily has 2 much and nods off
the other 2 just roll him outta the car into the white void
but i protest
hes gonna freeze to death in five minutes
fukk himm man dagge says
i thought the guy was a goner
but
sure enuff
he turns up at the station a few days later
he doesnt even remember…
things were outta control
like it was dream
i become a character on the scene
i knew every fucking badde guy down there
i still got ripped off
bang a hundred bucks gone just like that!
someone sold you a cap full of nothing
and it was yer last money
and yer sick n cold
but yer cant go home emptyhanded…
oh terrible times
no rest for the wicked!
always running around
waiting here n there
waiting at home
almost lifeless
every smallest thing unbearable
believe what you heard
junk withdrawal IS the worst thing
a million times worse than a broken arm
it gonna get you and make you wish you never been born
think of every misery youve ever known
you gonna freeze to burn
your stomach is gonna try n leave yer body
you cant sleep n thats the worst thing
thats the thing that gets them poor wretches
back out there
hustling, dealing, prostituting, stealing, pawning
not the high
its the low
a low that no one can stand
you cant do it on will power baybee
it dont work like that
that stuff wasnt finished with me
until one day
by the grace of god
it was finished with me
it didnt work anymore
the obsession lifted
it exerts no attraction on me any longer
im disinterested
but up until then
nothing helped
beware fiendss
dont monkey round with that one
oohh! you’ll rue the day
you let the gear in!
its a bad bad deal
watch out tho
cos gambling, sex, road rage and gossip
are still out there
anybody could get addicted to anything
just gotta make that connexion…
or not
jus’ remember
when you see that fucking disgusting wino
or that sweaty skanky junky
think
there but for the grace of god
goes sk!

love ya