Hi Gary. Saturday. Had a surf yesterday afternoon. Went down after I sent your mail. It was really great. Not great surf but surfable slop. Pretty crowded as well but I kept myself to one side. Saw Wingnut and the fuckwits together, so I avoided them. Wingnut saw me and we both ended up near the beach at one stage. He shouted "hi", then paddled back to his buds. I wasn't too hassled about that because I was enjoying getting back into it [surfing]. I handled it all quite well. Stayed in the water for about three hours, then went home. Normally, I would've hung around the beach. But it's just with this whole situation going on [that makes me reluctant to talk to Wingnut when he's with his buds].
South Africa
Part 30
One of the guys at school is having a party tonight, so I'm going to hit out there with Bruce, just for some company.
Sunday: Got another email from Francois with some really neat pics. :)
Had a fucking queen around me at that party last night, and I thought Bruce was going to fuck me up [cos he was jealous]. Actually, he ended up so fucking angry with me that he was even crying.
Everyone [at the party] was snorting [coke]. When Bruce found out, he grabbed me and wanted [me] to leave [with him]. I didn't even fucking know until then [when I'd discovered the coke] why everyone was on such a fucking high. I totally lost the plot and did a few lines, Gary. I'm sorry. It's just that as soon as Bruce found out, he was on to me, then started to treat me like a fucking kid. I was ready to smack him. Also drank too much on top of that. Eventually, Bruce took me to his house to sleep it off. I don't remember a lot about what happened, except that I woke up at Bruce's place. Almost as soon as I'd opened my eyes, he told me to get out of bed and to fuck off [out of his house].
"What's your fucking case?"
"You! I'm getting sick and tired of you using me. You go on and on about coming clean, and you see one little line [of coke] and can't wait [to snort it]."
"So? I'm fucking sorry. Get a fucking life, OK?"
"Listen to yourself, big shot. That's exactly what fucking happens when you're wasted. Stop using me for a crutch."
"What? Fuck you, bro. Who the fuck are you talking to? You probably supplied that fucking party [with drugs]."
Bruce gave me a stinging backhand across my face, then followed that with a verbal assault. "That [party] was your fucking turf that you couldn't handle [when you stopped selling], so now I've got the job of covering your slack ass."
"If you hit me again I will fuck you up."
"Like you fucked up that other dude [Jason] at the beach? Give me a fucking break! Maybe if I was five years younger and 20kgs lighter."
"Jesus! You're just like them."
"I'm sorry," he apologized, raising his hands palm-side up in the air as a sign of a truce. "I don't know where that came from. You make me so fucking crazy that I say stupid things like that. I'm sorry, sorry, sorry. I didn't mean any of it. OK?"
I didn't want to say anything for a while cos I was fucking fuming. And the situation was already at a stage where our friendship was on a fucking knife edge. Eventually, he spoke.
"You can't do that," he pleaded. "You can't just go back to that shit [drugs] whenever there's a chance. You need to walk away."
"Saint fucking Bruce! Hey, I couldn't help it."
"That's the problem. You'll never walk away. I'll make a deal with you. Why? Because I thought you'd almost died last night when I brought you home."
"I'm not good at deals."
Then came the big surprise. "I'll stop selling if you stop using."
"Oh, yeah? Now who's the big shot? They'll kill you. So you can't [stop selling]."
"They won't. Too much attention."
"You won't handle it, Bruce. Not what I went through."
"I've already spoken to a guy who's connected [with the syndicate], and he thinks it's possible [to stop selling] because they're pissed at the guys at school thinking it's a game. Reckons it's possible, and I should just handle the damage if it comes down [on me]. Hey, you saw how that morning went here with you and Krish [the S&M]. I can handle anything, right?"
"You won't handle what they [the synidcate] deal out, Bruce. And what about losing all that cash?"
"I get more cash from my folks than I know what to do with. I don't need their [the syndicate's] cash. I was doing it [selling] for the rush. So were you in the beginning."
"Was I that bad last night?" I asked, changing the subject.
"Sucked [you] until my mouth was sore, and I still couldn't get your cock hard," he laughed.
"Hahahahaha! How could you take advantage of me like that?"
Then I changed the sub back to his selling, and we spoke for ages about it. Bruce won't handle what they give him, Gary, if he does pull out. He's not a user, so what happens when they spike him with H or even worse? I'm not going to push him to do that. If he's lucky, they'll beat him into an emergency ward and leave it at that. I think the pressure of his taking over my turf has gotten to him as well. It's just too much, and like a permanent job - out every night and hustling at school. It's got more to do with him stopping [selling] and getting his life back than with me snorting a few lines at a party. Both of us know that.
He's also right about my controlling myself. He said I should stay away from the house parties and clubs for a while because it's too easy to get stuff. Stayed with him the whole morning talking, then breezed home.
"Tall and tanned and young and lovely, the boy from Ipanema goes walking, and when he walks..."
Shuddup, Gary. Anyway, I wasn't in any condition to go for a surf, so I slept most of the the afternoon and into the evening. Managed to do some school work before turning in.
Monday: There was a lot of talk about me at school today and what happened at the party. I was obviously too over the edge for a lot of the people there. Found out that the queen also had his hands in my pants...
"Tall and tanned, and young and...."
SHUDDUP! And I didn't even know or remember that [happening]. Maybe that's what pissed Bruce off so much.
Waiting for a phone call from Wingnut - hopefully. It's another fucking hot day here. Cheers.
Your friend and the Codeman's
Steve
> Hi Gary. Saturday. Had a surf yesterday afternoon.
G'day Steve,
Well, your mad at yourself. That's a good sign. And you wrote and told me what happened. That's also a good sign. I'm worried about Bruce, though. He said he wants to stop selling so that you'll stop using, but I think there's probably more to it. Maybe you've inspired him to "be a little decent" by no longer selling.
Richie wrote me yesterday. He's been through the whole re-hab thing. In and out of hospitals and whatever. He said something about being an obsessive compulsive, and that the primary cause of some people's problems is in their inherited genes. Richie will probably write you and tell you about some of his experiences. He's pretty familiar with medical and techinical lingo. The prob with other people telling you about their experiences is that they don't necessarily relate to your own, and they can fall into the trap of saying, "If I can do it, so can you."
Richie was in re-hab once when he said to the nurse or whoever, "This is a helluva way to die." The nurse responded by saying, "Looks to me like a helluva way to live." Richie has been clean for a long time, and is now a successful businessman who loves his work. He keeps himself busy by playing with toys such as motor bikes and boats. He not only plays with them, he also sells them. He's doing what he loves, and he's enjoying life.
I can identify with Richie cos I'm also an obsessive compulsive. Who else would sit in front of the comp day after day writing stuff? Who else would live his life through other people? I can tell you that if I didn't have MrB I'd be obsessive and compulsive about something else, such as gambling. I can't go anywhere near a club or pub cos of the slots. One time I'd shoveled every cent into the damn things, then "borrowed" $800 from the account that I run for Kostik and his buds. That disappeared too. I'm talking rent money, food money, bill money, and money that wasn't mine. And I had two people to care for - Sue and Lindsay - who depended on me. That happened a couple of years ago, but there have been many other instances over the years of my waking up in the morning feeling sick to the stomach about having lost every penny.
So you went to a party and snorted a couple of lines. I went to Old Bar Beach a month ago. Couldn't find a pub to have a beer or two, so I found the local lawn bowling club. Figured I'd put a few dollars into the slots. Yeah, right. Try $400. But I stopped, so it wasn't too bad. Then I met Jason at the beach. I'm OK now. Got money in the bank, and all the bills are paid, including what I owed Kot and his buds. I've never "borrowed" from them since.
For me, avoiding the slots isn't so difficult. I've got other things to occupy my time. But what about you? You're a teen, and you need to socialize at parties. How else are you gonna make friends and avoid being tempted by drugs? Maybe it's just a case of choosing the right parties. You know more about the local scene than I do. Meantime, Bruce needs to understand that just cos he was able to quit using drugs, it may not be so easy for you. Like Richie said, it's in the genes, and what works for the goose doesn't necessarily work for the gander.
Seems to me that you don't have much choice but to move in drug-free circles. Avoiding temptation means avoiding the source.
So am I disappointed in you? Nope. Hell, I've skinned my knees countless times. Would I go to alcoholics anonymous or gamblers anonymous to solve my probs? Nope. I'm like you. I need to solve my own probs. I don't want some jerk telling me what or what not I should be doing. I already know that anyway. And there's no fucking way I'm gonna sit with a bunch of losers and swap tales of woe. Bugger that. So you and I have pretty similar personality traits. We're stubborn and independent.
Am I obsessive and compulsive about you? Yep, just as I was about Code. But I control it cos I know what would happen if I didn't. You're also obsessive and compulsive about Wingnut. Same thing applies. People like you and me need to constantly remind ourselves of what's to be won or lost by our actions. Moreover, we need something productive and enjoyable to be obsessive and compulsive about. I've got MrB [and you], and Richie's got his toys. And what have you got? You've got an awesome bod for one thing, and a home gym. You've also got Bruce and Wingnut who share your interest in fitness [not to mention SEX!].
I know what you're thinking, Stevie Wonder. You want love. Well, love will come to you if you focus on improving yourself. Trust me on that one. In fact, you'll probably get more than you can handle hehehe.
The queen at the party is a sad case. If he'd been successful at getting you into bed, what would he have woken up to next morning? A person who hated him. That's not the way to find a lover. I hope the dumbfuck wakes up to himself before too long.
Bruce was right when he said you're different when you're trashed. I undergo a similar personality change when I'm in front of a slot machine. I lose all sense of reality. Then, when my last dollar disappears, I look at the machine and wonder how the fuck I could've let that damn thing control me. Its lights are still blinking and wooing me, and the sign says, "Credit 0. Insert more money." What fucking money? You've got the fucking lot! Then I walk away, conscious of all eyes observing the dejected expression on my face. Loser! But that doesn't stop the other gambling addicts. They keep pressing the buttons, oblivious to their fate until it's too late.
So if my probs are in my genes, where did I get them from? My parents didn't drink or gamble. But I know that my grandfather - who died when I was very young - loved gambling on the horses, and sometimes the table was bare. He wasn't a writer, but he worked for a Sydney newspaper. I'm also related to two of Australia's most notorious bushrangers [outlaws] back in the 1800s. Hehehe. Charming! How would that look on my Curriculum Vitae. :)
I bought a small pedestal yesterday - polished rosewood, Queen Anne style. I'd previously bought a white art-deco vase from the Salvation Army op shop during my last vase binge. I can't begin to tell you how awesome the vase looked when I took it off the floor and placed it on the rosewood pedestal. Then I filled it to overflowing with lush green ferns. It's in the hall right now, looking like a million bux... all for a total of about $50. There was absolutely nothing spectacular about that vase sitting on the floor. It looked kinda lost and lonely. But I had faith in it. I knew that if I could find the right pedestal, it would be transformed, and I was right. Sue and Lindsay can't believe how good it looks, especially with all the fernery. Actually, I'll take it out to the verandah so I don't have to use the flash, and take two pics - one solo and one with the pedestal and ferns. :)
Am I really that devious? I guess I am - or try to be. You and I are playing a game here - kinda like virtual chess. You make a move, and I make a counter move. But this game is different to most cos there'll be two winners.
Meantime, my tall handsome friend, you have every right to be mad at yourself, as I have so often been mad at myself. Believe me, it's a healthy sign. You've also shown great courage by telling me what happened at the party, and afterwards at Bruce's place. If that's not a healthy sign, then I'm a tall blonde surfer hunk. Actually, there's only room for one of those in this relationship, and I'm more than happy with that. A MrB reader wrote the other day and said that I had "a rugged face that had seen the passage of time" hehehe. Rugged? Not too sure about that, but he's right about the passage of time.
As for your avoiding Wingnut's buds in the surf, that's the price you're paying for your past mistakes. I don't know how long it will take for that situation to resolve itself, but it will if you keep heading in the right direction. Wingnut wants to be proven correct about his reasons for befriending you again, so it's up to you to make sure you do him that favor.
Thanks again for the email. I was hoping to wake up this morning and find one there. It takes me a couple of hours to think my replies through, but it's time well spent as far as I'm concerned. It's part of my obsessive compulsive nature. :) And I'd rather put everything I have into you than some ripoff slot machine. At least with you, I have a good chance of winning the ultimate prize - your happiness and success. You're a young man with your whole life ahead of you. Cliche, I know. But it's true. Nothing would make me happier than to know [before my number's up] that you're living a full and productive life, and sharing your love with someone special.
Code used to tell me little things about his life - peanut butter sarmies and whatever. I treasure those memories cos he was sharing every little detail about his life. Same with you. I love all the stuff about you that would seem frivolous or insignificant to others, but not to me. I think that's what love is all about - noticing and treasuring the little things that collectively make up a person's character. The wax on the board, the picture on the wardrobe, the smile, the idiosyncrasies.
Well, I'd better jet. I've rambled long enough. As usual, I wonder if I've said anything that makes a diff. Sure hope so.
Your friend and the Codeman's
Gary
PS: If Cody could speak, he'd be furious about the Aussie cricket team trouncing the Safricans in Joburg. Wingnut must be spitting chips! Oh, well, I'm an Aussie. :)Copyright © 2002 All rights reserved. mrbstories
