I thought everything was gonna go smoothly. My dealer bought a pair of headphones from me, and he was going to pay me in installments—not in cash, but other stuff.
He paid me one gram a couple days ago. He owes me 3 more. I thought everything was going to go smoothly.
There’s this irritating little piece of shit who I have to pretend to be friends with. He constantly pesters me for stuff. I made the mistake long ago of being nice and now I’m marked. If you want to get high for fucking free just find me. I had gotten pretty good at telling this annoying little fuck “no” but this time, I thought, I had enough to kick him something so he’d fuck off. Or I was lost in the haze of my own loneliness and forgot I don’t even like this obnoxious little fuck. Probably both since I wound up smoking with this other annoying dumbass who I’d just met.
So today I hit my dealer up for my next installment. He texts me back with a fucking wall of text about how he’s losing his mind and isn’t going to be able to re-up. So now I have to figure something out, and/or take a fucking Wellbutrin to deal with the withdrawals.
I hate it so much when people tell me to “move on,” when I talk about my ex-friend, who was also the one dealer I’ve ever had who wasn’t lazy and wasn’t completely fucking bonkers. They were the one, the only, the last person I had to talk to, in addition to being the one person I actually liked.
I want to go somewhere far away. I hate this shit.
Glass house