6 th.January.

6/01/2007
Spent some time this morning deciding if it was Saturday or Sunday; took clues from, possible post delivery.
Was knocked out of bed by someone delivering the yellow pages;
still haven’t unwrapped last years!
Spent as much time as I could in bed because was getting the thoughts of buying baccy for the weekend.
Am breathing better, or at least I’m feeling as if I am; deeper, more relaxed and somewhat quieter.
Today will be a hard day to pass, did think about having a bath and going shopping but decided a couple of boiled eggs will do for today thus shopping will wait till Monday.
This has to be considered a serious attempt to stop smoking,
I feel I may crack but will feel more confident as the hours pass by.
I did consider buying some smoke and rationing it out to perhaps 5 or so per day, but I need to experience the freedom from the taste in my mouth and the smell of smoke in the room.
Each day is a struggle, and will be so until the craving is killed.

Some of the sites I visited yesterday made interesting reading; the general consensus that Frank’s site could be much improved upon and that some of the facts on his site were, to put it mildly, inaccurate and misleading.
But it is there and I suppose that is what the Government wants.
If a teenager wants to discover more facts about drugs and the associated dangers there are hundreds of sites available.
True some do waste time going through the usual descriptions, trying to keep up with the street slang for a particular substance.
I spent quite a time reading about the cacti, mushrooms and herbal mixes available; learning all the time.
The information about the glass beads been mixed with the grass was disturbing, especially so when I recall I tipped all the dregs into my last joint, beads and all.


I don’t fancy the idea of inhaling miniscule glass beads into my already smoke damaged lungs just so some dealer can make a few bob extra per gram!
As well as that the gear was crap, the worst I’ve had for a long while and expensive.
It was so bad and obviously lacking in THC that I considered buying some legal herbal high and telling the dealer to knock that out at the same price!
At least the smoker would have experienced something.
And I may have made my money back.
Judging by the mail I read yesterday the whole country is awash with poor quality gear; everyone is experiencing the ups and downs of supply quality.
I bet many are thinking of growing their own when the weather improves,
I wish I had a couple of plants on the go; or even the money to heat and light the place!
Thirty year ago, when I first started growing I never dreamed I would be dependent on such poor quality, adulterated gange, as I am now been forced to buy.
£25 to sit and smoke the lot in seven hours! Without getting a hit.
Soap bar and its many look alikes, full of garbage.
So called skunk, sprayed, dipped and added to.
I would love to return to the days of clipping a few leaves, flash curing under the grill and smoking it.
For years I grew and was self-sufficient; never thought there would be an end.
I supplied plants and seeds to anyone who wanted them and in return I got a safety net, a supply to fall back on, if need be, when I got busted.
I sit here now fighting a craving for a rollie!
Not for Cannabis but for a smoke to satisfy the need for nicotine.
I nip to shop and buy a half-ounce and treat myself to 2 litres of fresh milk and a pork pie.
Pie is absolutely packed with meat.
It’s a bugger when I prefer a pint of milk to a pint of ale!
I open my mail and there is my new credit card, seems a waste when this is the month I intend to close account and move banks.
I sit and have my second smoke, having rolled one up in the car as soon as I bought it.
There is no stomach cramping craving to satisfy and it smokes away in the ashtray as I type, why I enjoy smoking I don’t know.
The fridge is full of cold beer and there are cans of lager left but I prefer to drink milk and have a rollie.
I am able to stop for 24 to 36 hours but still buy half an ounce when feel like it;
I’m truly stupid.
I now think; have baccy, how about some dope to pass the day away?
I hate Saturdays,
I have no interest in watching sport so the daytime is boring for me,
I haven’t got back into course work yet; don’t know why but just am in no rush to re-start.
When I do I’ll probably throw myself in and complete the work in a week or so, just not in the mood at the moment.
I want to relax but am at a loose end.
Made a few enquiries and the only gear available is the grass and glass so decided to leave it alone.
Talking to other smokers the general opinion is that apart from the addition of glass the quality is no good.
I’m not wasting money on dope when it’s the price of a bottle of Scotch to make a joint!
Looks like option for today, is have a couple of Newcastle’s,
hopefully I’ll enjoy them more than the lager.
When I told the lads I hated Saturdays because they were boring, one lad asked, if I had freeview?
I answered yes but how much TV can a person be expected to watch?
I collared local dealer a couple of minutes ago and he says there is some decent gear in Loftus but they are asking £10 per gram!
Prices are increasing as quality is decreasing, am going to get in touch with old dealer and offer to drive him around in an attempt to secure some decent stuff.
I haven’t had a good smoke since I was in hospital last Xmas.
Going to have another glass of milk to line stomach and then have a couple of beers;
if I’m still bored may go back to bed and write day off.
My life must be boring if all I can think of doing is going to bed.

One of these days when I have found a new poison to drinkI'll order it in the largest size.And of consequences, I will not think

There’s nothing like the morning,for quiet solitude.A cup of steaming tea,,and daybreak setting the mood.
From my chair,I watch house lights come on.The other early risers,about to greet the dawn.
There is no morning traffic,of cars upon the streets. Then come the early risers,out for their morning strolls.Who with silent recognition,nod to fellow souls.
Last comes a hurried driver,weaving from side to side.Out plops the morning papers,The morning peace has died.
Few verses I found on an alcoholics poetry site.