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2/11/2005
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Serious
Well
this is the first serious entry here for some time and my head is clear
I think for the first time since July. Due to having been banged up in
the nick for the last day and night. So it's not all good. I looked in
the mirror a few minutes ago and I look awful. I mean, skinny, and my
face is all drawn and I look like an addict.
Of course, that's exactly what I've been, even though I didn't say so here before.
The thing is. Martin has turned this place into a drug supply
warehouse. All the happy visitors were buyers. OK, Martin kept it
exclusive, but it is a crime to supply class A drugs after all, and I
can't pretend I didn't know what was going on. I just trusted Martin
and the janitors to keep it discreet, which they did pretty well at. In
return I got what I wanted. Thank God I was satisfied with just a
little. I imagine it could have been worse. I saw such sights among the
punters who turned up here.
In any case, it all came to an
end when the cops rolled up and searched the place and arrested me and
Martin and a couple of customers. You may already have seen it in the
papers. It looked pretty bad for me, but Joe Goldman got me a good
brief, and, in exchange for ratting out Martin, which didn't hurt at
all, I wasn't charged. I also have to move out of the apartment,
of course, and go into rehab.
Just so everyone knows, I feel pretty low.
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