Homeless Erotica
New member
I never expected to end up homeless at the ripe old age of 44, yet— here I am— holed-up in a shitty motel room on the Southern Coast of Oregon for the Christmas season.
Admittedly, this is a welcomed, temporary reprieve from illegal camping nightmares I’ve endured for the past four years-plus...
Even though said “reprieve” has included a painful, involuntary detox from prescription painkillers over the course of the past few weeks...
I’ve detoxed from every Opioid known to man, but it’s always these “Addiction Medicines” that seem to really hunker-down deep within your opioid receptors and leave when they’re god damn well good and ready.
Kind of suspect that these “Pain Management” drug peddlers are quick to shoot down the notion of giving you any short acting pain meds on account of abuse history— yet will dole-out Suboxone/Subutex knowing damn well that you’re fucked for a lot longer(even though some of the physical wds are milder) if you opt to abuse them.
I’m never NOT amused when staring into the vapid, incredulous faces of these glorified pushers once they realize that a KNOWN ADDICT UNDER THEIR VERY OWN CARE HAS ABUSED THEIR MEDICATION!
OH, THE HUMANITY!
I was gifted an early Christmas gift by my insurance company when they decided to stop covering the usage of Buprenorphine for Pain Management.
Imagine my surprise...
This entire time I was under the assumption, that since this moron knew of my abuse history and prescribed Bupe for that very reason— that she was submitting this information to my insurance company.
I guess that made too much LEGAL SENSE.
Needless to say, my calls to said insurance company went nowhere...
Well... maybe “nowhere” is too strong of a word...
I did manage to string-together some rather original, and might I add, impressive expletives that may or may not have involved this insurance representative’s asshole; a funnel; and a bottle of drano.
I am a fucking soldier of life...
Physical withdrawals secede rather promptly...
It’s the mental ones that last for weeks/months that make someone want to play the violin on their wrists with the latest luxury razor...
Why only use one blade, when you can use FIVE ON A ROTATING axis that contours to the shapes and crevasses of your wrists???!!!!
I’ve never been one for the holidays anyhow...
I’ll just continue to stare at the walls and enjoy the accrued bodily scents of the thousands of patrons before me, that seem to link forces and strongarm rape my senses all at once.
God bless us, EVERYONE!
I don’t shower much.
Bye.
Admittedly, this is a welcomed, temporary reprieve from illegal camping nightmares I’ve endured for the past four years-plus...
Even though said “reprieve” has included a painful, involuntary detox from prescription painkillers over the course of the past few weeks...
I’ve detoxed from every Opioid known to man, but it’s always these “Addiction Medicines” that seem to really hunker-down deep within your opioid receptors and leave when they’re god damn well good and ready.
Kind of suspect that these “Pain Management” drug peddlers are quick to shoot down the notion of giving you any short acting pain meds on account of abuse history— yet will dole-out Suboxone/Subutex knowing damn well that you’re fucked for a lot longer(even though some of the physical wds are milder) if you opt to abuse them.
I’m never NOT amused when staring into the vapid, incredulous faces of these glorified pushers once they realize that a KNOWN ADDICT UNDER THEIR VERY OWN CARE HAS ABUSED THEIR MEDICATION!
OH, THE HUMANITY!
I was gifted an early Christmas gift by my insurance company when they decided to stop covering the usage of Buprenorphine for Pain Management.
Imagine my surprise...
This entire time I was under the assumption, that since this moron knew of my abuse history and prescribed Bupe for that very reason— that she was submitting this information to my insurance company.
I guess that made too much LEGAL SENSE.
Needless to say, my calls to said insurance company went nowhere...
Well... maybe “nowhere” is too strong of a word...
I did manage to string-together some rather original, and might I add, impressive expletives that may or may not have involved this insurance representative’s asshole; a funnel; and a bottle of drano.
I am a fucking soldier of life...
Physical withdrawals secede rather promptly...
It’s the mental ones that last for weeks/months that make someone want to play the violin on their wrists with the latest luxury razor...
Why only use one blade, when you can use FIVE ON A ROTATING axis that contours to the shapes and crevasses of your wrists???!!!!
I’ve never been one for the holidays anyhow...
I’ll just continue to stare at the walls and enjoy the accrued bodily scents of the thousands of patrons before me, that seem to link forces and strongarm rape my senses all at once.
God bless us, EVERYONE!
I don’t shower much.
Bye.
