A fools wanderings

So now I sit on my wee couch – typically called a loveseat but it’s been years since I’ve been in love, far too long, and then, sitting with her on this it was glorious- but that time has passed  so now it’s just a wee couch. Or a wide chair. Anyway, it’s, as usual, just me on it.

But that has nothing to do with this story.

This does:

Not feeling as horrible as I thought I would, I decided to go to Oakland – aaaaall the way to Oakland to a yearly event a friend creates called ‘Baconfest’. It’s exactly as it sounds. Baconfest.
Nearly all those who come – those who have a kitchen & money at least – bring a bacon-focused dish, drink – or disaster. From bacon-wrapped, chocolate lined shot glasses – to bacon wrapped deep fried Twinkies, and EVERYTHING in between – and beyond. If you like bacon, it’s the place to be, and usually a couple hundred people show up through the night. Though I don’t hold bacon in the cult-food status that many of my friends the people I know do, I like the stuff. In small quantities these days as the sodium just begs for swelling, and I’m much more along the lines of “Fuck that swelling shit”.

But the event existed, and I figured it would be good to get on the other side of my apartment door for a welcome change.
I took a shower, washing of the poison stench that seeps through skin during withdrawal, saved, and hells – I even washed my hair, which is rare indeed. I didn’t do it for them, but – it needed it. It really did. The dirt wasn’t working as a styling substance anymore, and it was time for a fresh coat. Now, my hair is all purty and in my fucking face.

Put on my new birthday pants, my new hernia girdle that I just got today, a gift from a friend (it’s even BLACK!) and after a bit more primping, a few more herbs and a quick walk with The RuBeast, headed down to the BART station. On my way down Hyde I passed the usual bullshit, told the usual drug dealers to go fuck themselves when they asked what I wanted, and then came across something new!

Somewhere around the cross of Turk St I think, a rare sight –  burned out motorhome, very simalar to one I used to live in. I asked the cop what happened, and either for drama or in amazing ignorance and way too much Breaking Bad, he said “probably a meth lab.

mh1

Not a damn chance. Burned in front, and hell – just the fact that it was still there and not a twisted frame on wheels said different. If it were a meth lab, it would have gone BOOM, and taken out a lot of everything around it. Knowing where the kitchen is in that model… it was just a stupid mistake, either in jimmied wiring or a kitchen fire that couldn’t be controlled. Mr. Cop man was nice, but – dumb, at least regarding this. I try to hold onto the belief that not all cops are bad – but it’s getting much more difficult. Much more.

TO BART, paid my fare, got on the train and headed to the OaklandBootyVilleBaconFest.

I got off at the infamous Fruitvale station, and on a whim decided to call and see if anyone was there that could save me the mile walk – who knows, I thought – it might be someone I don’t know and should, if anyone will. And it would save me a mile walk & time.

I called Otto, the King Shit of Baconfest, and asked him – after a couple minutes of talking we both realized that when I entered it into my calendar I put this event on the wrong date, and never bothered to notice since.

It’s not tonight. It’s on October 8th.

HOW I screwed up is just simply not paying enough attention, and believing what my calendar said. I AM KING FOOL.

But hell – at least I got out of the apartment, right? It cost me $8 on a crazy tight budget to o to Oakland & turn around, but on the positive side – at least I decided to call and didn’t walk to MOxy to find out then.

So now I sit at “home” again, not feeling great but not feeling like shit. Because I was weak. A couple nights ago, when the oil-thick sweat began, when my muscles started convulsing, twitching like a slow motion epileptic fit – that’s when I decide to severely taper instead of going from morphine fog-high to teeth gnashing rip your face off, and every few days I take a small dose – as I figure out the proper doses for me using Kratom to help it. So far, I can say that Kratom is holy-crap amazing, and know it will help me through this immensely.

But fuck – I need to get out of this apartment. I only had a taste tonight – but it was good.
 

 

 

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