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Used Needle in an Urban Haystack.

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Used Needle in an Urban Haystack. "Come on son move along," said the policeman nudging Jossy slightly. "Damn is it that time already? Can't I stay for like half an hour longer?" "Look mate you know the routine, hey the hostel on Old Kent Road is giving away some clothing and food today. Why don't you make your way over there?" "Look 'PIG'! I don't need your advice. Do you see this? I am moving. GOD!" Jossy said in a slightly raised angered voice. "Don't talk to me like that, now move remove your self from this place before I have to do it myself." The policeman watched Jossy walk out of sight before moving onto the next doorway. When Jossy could not see the policeman anymore he sat down in a doorway that had already been passed and cleared. Why are they all looking at me like that? Haven't they seen a homeless junky before!? Mind you, me being a junky is only partially my fault. You could say that it was Sophie, my ex-girlfriends' fault. Ah Sophie, how I miss her. Sophie Langress my girlfriend of the past, her expression on her face when she dies still haunts me in the present. She was addicted to heroin that's how she died. A cold lonely fearful death. ...read more.


I remember that when I sat up I still felt dazed, but I had this feeling inside of me that made me feel alive and ready for anything. The feeling was so great. It was like ecstasy of the highest degree. My first taste of heroin and I was hooked. A couple of weeks past and the novelty of it all had run off. It was now a routine. I was a wound up solider, got up, went to work, got home and had a 'hit'. It made me feel week and tired. Unworthy of everything. I could see it on Sophie as well. I don't think she noticed, herself, how bad out situation had got. At least when I did not inject I could keep everything in order and under control. Everything started to get so manic. Then that certain Tuesday was going to change my life, it was to take a turn for the worst. I got up and went to work, the day was going quickly for me. Working in a factory wasn't exactly what I had planned to do with my life, but I guess neither was living on the streets like I do now. Any way they said that they needed me to work late. I didn't disagree, I mean how else was I going to pay for the heroin. ...read more.


I was in denial bigtime. I think that in someway I was being selfish. I mean I could have called the police, but I knew that if I did I would get put away for doing drugs and probably would also have got done for murder or something. Thinking about it now, I would prefer to be in prison. At least I would have a roof over my head. It's now about a year and a half on from that day and look at me. I live on the streets begging each bloody day for money, just so I can feed my heroin addiction. I still play that day over and over in my head and I still think of what might have been different if only I did not have to work late at the factory. I could have saved her. I would not be on the streets of London begging to feed my habit. All I can do now is wait. I don't know what for, maybe I am waiting to die so I can rid myself of this torture. Am I going insane from this madness that I am caught up in? I just can't comprehend this situation which I am in. sometimes it feels like a dream that I can not escape from. It's like another dimension, where dreams and reality aren't separate but are as one, like a united bond. A never-ending misuse of life. My life is a used needle in this urban haystack. ...read more.

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