Monday was the last time I scored, I wanted it to be my last hit because work has dried up for a little while and money's going to be tight . The thing about a last hit though is you want one you can remember, or in this case, one you can't . But isn't that the way with anything you do for the last time, " Make the last one a good one", "Save the best till last", a fond farewell as it were. I have a long history of last hits and this was one of the worst, it was that bad I wanted to forget it but I couldn't,It had made me so furious I started stomping around the flat cursing myself and the whole damn world. I cursed because I didn't have any decent veins, I cursed because I didn't pick up any fresh spikes because I thought I could make do with the old ones which turned out to be about as sharp as old knitting needles. I cursed because if I had picked up a bag of clean works there would be some left over ready and waiting, winking at me, whispering sweetly " How about 'a last hit' you're never gonna count that one are you ? " I cursed the fact that I felt pretty much the same after the hit as I had before the hit and there was also just enough left in the syringe to make it impossible to throw away, especially once I'd added whatever could be salvaged from the spoon. I cursed a final time as I placed the remnants of the hit in the cupboard ready for round two in the morning before I left for work and I cursed once more as I accepted my fate.
Tuesday's last hit went marginally better than Mondays and affected me marginally less. So here I am on Friday thinking to myself since I haven't used for a few days maybe, just maybe I could do one last hit to say goodbye, adios amigo, last farewell, one for the road as it were, because my time on this trip is almost up !
Friday night has passed into Saturday morning and I'm wondering if I can make it through the weekend without puncturing myself ?