It doesn’t look like we’ll get an issue out this month, so we’re just going to share some of the items that appeared in our inbox. Like this fantastic illustration…
“Delta” by David Purba from Jakarta
>>>He was born with origami for blood and a paintbrush for a tongue, and apalette for love<<< http://davidmop.carbonmade.com/
At last! We are happy to feature some creative writing here on the HL blog. This mad story came to us last month without any message, note, or signature. The piece speaks for itself…
I woke up yesterday
By Ryan Kramer
I woke up yesterday, Valentine’s day, after a two or three week long opiate binge. I would like to call it a three week long opiate addiction, as it shared more similarities with that than with a binge, so I will. I’m sure I don’t need to point out the differences between the two. I’m sure you’ll understand. It was started off with pills-vicodin. It was fun and I didn’t need to stop. I knew I would just burn out.
Then, after a week of being high I had found myself with a beautiful, older, successful love interest. Annie. Dark hair, bright red lipstick, thirty years old. But when we laughed with each other I couldn’t tell if she was 35 or 18. She looked wonderfully alive and happy. We kissed passionately and slept together peacefully. I kept taking a pill now and then each day or many at a time – they didn’t seem to do much to me except while drunk. At those times I had endless energy and positivity.
I took a trip to Oregon, high on opiates most of the time. Just for the fuck of it I thought. Well, if I don’t take one I’m going to feel like shit and I’m on vacation so fuck that. If I just take one more or two more I’ll be fine. I’ll ride it out. Saul Goodman. I headed to southern Oregon to stay with a farmer friend of mine who plied me with his homegrown opium I taught him how to make and poppy tincture and laudanum. I still had a few vicodin left with me that I brought and I stopped taking them. I stuck to the natural stuff and got through it all ok. Well, then I got home. I ate some few more pills and sat on the couch and fell asleep. Two buddies passed through town the next day and I ate a bunch more pills as well as bought a bunch of coke for everyone. It was a kinda-wild night. Not as much as this crowd on drugs is normally capable of. Tyler had a girlfriend for the first time since I’ve known him and maybe that slowed him down a little. I certainly was feeling a little uneasy with them all this night. I hadn’t known them very long and I had opened my heart to them very soon. I am beginning to get the feeling they are on the fringes of the Always-Be-Positive crowd, which turns my stomach more than most crowds I’ve had the occasion to meet. I had the distinct feeling that I was being judged and tried to dissuade myself that the looks of furrowed brow were meant to mean what they did.
I woke up yesterday, valentines day, hungover and disgusted. I broke. I had reached the point and no longer was interested in keeping up a happy demeanor, no longer interested in feeling good or being positive myself. I barely remembered that I still had a shitload of vicodin left, bottles of laudanum and poppy tincture that had come in the mail from me whilst in Oregon, a bag of Kratom on the refrigerator, which is an opiate or opiate like high from the leaves of a tree in Bali… And when I did think of them I had no interest in them other than to sell (the vicodin) or preserve for a later date (the laudanum and some coke left over). I woke up and looked back on the past three weeks. Annie was not answering my calls. In fact I had not heard from her since I left for Oregon. I had signed up for a gym membership. Had I estranged myself from the Happy-Everyday crowd? Woody was not answering my calls either. I had neglected going to an event my boss bought me tickets for so I could write about it- the cannabis cup. I still have some articles to fabricate for that. Well, the biggest loss is Annie. Easy come. Easy go, I guess. I’m not sure what I did to push her away… maybe I’ll run into her with our mutual friend, Lael sometime. Maybe I’ll get a little picture of what happened then. But I’m back on my own now. And despite anything I may have done to distance Annie and despite whatever fickleness and ingenuousness may be her disreputable traits the lesson I have learned is not to open my heart so easily. The devil wears red lipstick and has soft tits.
Well, at least its rainy today. For what it’s worth LA needs more rain. And I’m a little happier to be sad every now and again than if I never were. I am buying a typewriter tomorrow and finding a new place to live this week and James is coming into town for a zine convention.
Life moves on.
“Two of Us” by Nicholas Lokasasmita from Jakarta
Thanks to everyone who continues to send us art and support our small endeavor.