Wasted
Posted on | October 8, 2009 | 41 Comments
She lay shivering on the bed, the ugly grey light of morning cutting through the condensation on the windows and spotlighting the smoke that blanketed the room.
She had no idea how long she’d been staring at the ceiling. When she thought about it she realised she had no idea how long she’d been awake. The previous night had passed in a blur. One moment there were people there, the next she was alone and cold on the bed. There was no duvet, just a thin, stained sheet.
She remembered being fucked, didn’t know by who or if she’d enjoyed it. She assumed it was all right like all the other times. Maybe she’d just stared at the ceiling then too.
She sat up, reached out and lit a cigarette. The first drag was like swallowing fire and it sent her into spasms of coughing. When the coughing had stopped she smoked more, the filter clutched between gnarled fingers, deep black filth under the fingernails which were thick and yellowed.
She looked around the room. The formica table, the overflowing ashtray, the carpet which was more dirt than fabric leading into the kitchenette which was home to dirty plates and pots, ancient pizza boxes and takeaway bags. Against this backdrop the tinfoil trays of rock-hard rice and greasy pages from months old Mirrors were more decoration than litter.
It was a long way from the good times. She coughed again, almost swallowing the greeny-black lump of phlegm which shot into her mouth like a bullet. She gagged a bit, spat it on the floor, smoked again. Her tongue rubbed her teeth. How long had it been since she brushed them? Not days, into weeks now. This wasn’t how it used to be.
She remembered the parties, the excitement, the glitz and glamour. Limos, recording studios, TV channels, radio stations, magazine shoots, people to make her look good. Her hair, her make-up, her clothes. The buzz and excitement meant working 18 hours a day with constant travel was never a problem. There were people to tell her how great she was and when she was tired there was always somebody with something to provide a little extra energy.
Tours, photoshoots, showbiz friends, so many friends. Who knew you could meet so many great people so quickly? This was no Andy Warhol fifteen minutes. This was going to be long-term. This was no flash in the pan. This was not going to end up in a bedsit on the Seven Sisters Road drinking from an open can of Stella first thing in the morning. The friends were forever, not hangers-on who cut themselves loose at the first hint of trouble.
She looked at the veins on her legs, the scabs on the inside her arms, the tremor in her hands which was getting worse every time she remembered to take note of it. Her feet were filthy, the crusted sludge between her toes pained what was left of what used to be her. She finished the cigarette, dropped it into the can of Stella and sat with her head in her hands, drifting in the haze of her muddled thoughts. It was only when she took another drink of the warm, flat beer that she remembered what she’d done with the smoke.
She began to cry. No sound, just tears cleaning a path down the grime that covered her face. She lay back on the bed and folded into her sorrow. As she shivered her way into sleep Yazz wished there was a song with a message she could take heart from.
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41 Responses to “Wasted”
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October 8th, 2009 @ 8:43 pm
?
October 8th, 2009 @ 8:59 pm
As she shivered her way into sleep Yazz wished there was a song with a message she could take heart from.
Did she D ream that things could only get better?
October 8th, 2009 @ 9:35 pm
is this a true story ’bout the ‘only way is up’ singer?,did i miss something
October 8th, 2009 @ 9:40 pm
I’ve just checked,she’s livin’ the healthy life in Spain,resident singer in the local baptist church,don’t get the motive behind the post Twenty…now if it was Amy…
October 8th, 2009 @ 9:47 pm
All I can think is who in their right mind would fuck her. Maggot?
October 8th, 2009 @ 10:14 pm
Yazz and the… what were they called again? I can remember that song being number one. It was the first song to reach number one to be dubbed acid house..
October 8th, 2009 @ 10:15 pm
the plastic population
October 8th, 2009 @ 10:25 pm
How dare you HM – I wouldn’t even FEED on her corpse!
October 8th, 2009 @ 10:30 pm
Stands back and lights blue fuse
” Ahern says country ‘in safe hands’ in his tenure ”
http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/breaking/2009/1008/breaking69.htm
According to the sister in his book the financially syphilitic shyster blames the Protestants for all the fuss about his adultery .
October 8th, 2009 @ 10:40 pm
The country had loads of dosh. Nothing to do with good government. God I hate that sneaky cunt.
October 8th, 2009 @ 11:19 pm
Poor Yazz :(
October 8th, 2009 @ 11:19 pm
And yes I know its not real. Apart from the can of Stella bit. I think we’ve all been there
October 8th, 2009 @ 11:50 pm
jesus twenty you need some uppers ….or maybe the od few pints of the black stuff…i recommend 13
October 8th, 2009 @ 11:55 pm
Bertie exposure upsets him dreadfully triangle.
October 9th, 2009 @ 12:27 am
I, too, will be rich and famous, but I intend to become someone first.
The fall is going to be from a much higher place.
October 9th, 2009 @ 12:36 am
Jesus Twenty, put away your walkman and cassette copy of ‘Now Thats What I Call Music 13′ before anyone else gets hurt. There’s a real plastic population out here now.
October 9th, 2009 @ 1:21 am
and a cheery fashion week to you as well…
flash forward, 20 years or so, and i expect we’ll find a few of the walking coatracks in New York this month drinking warm stella and wondering what the fuck happened…
October 9th, 2009 @ 2:21 am
Mowl – he’s listening to Leonard Cohen on his 8 track stereo
October 9th, 2009 @ 5:24 am
wow…
October 9th, 2009 @ 8:21 am
It could have been worse. She might have ended up like Debbie Gibson.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G5TnVm2ZC_U&feature=related
October 9th, 2009 @ 8:38 am
Heavy.
Love it.
October 9th, 2009 @ 8:49 am
Oh that looks like the best film ever. Lorenzo Lamas too. I’m going to start queueing outside the Savoy right now!
October 9th, 2009 @ 9:28 am
Yep, that’s a pretty good analogy of the current state of the country after all of our high hopes, back in the day.
October 9th, 2009 @ 10:17 am
When did it all go wrong for her ?
October 9th, 2009 @ 10:34 am
fucking wasted on yous
October 9th, 2009 @ 10:37 am
The real tragedy thats been overlooked, is the fact that Yazz looks like a llama, which are pretty horrible creatures.
October 9th, 2009 @ 10:41 am
The Only Way was Down after Coldcut’s “Doctor in The House” feat Yazz…
October 9th, 2009 @ 10:43 am
You had me going there twenty. According to wikipedia….’Yazz is now based in Spain and is an active member of the Calahonda Baptist Church’
October 9th, 2009 @ 12:01 pm
Really great story Twenty. One doesn’t expect such prose standards from a blog. Thought it was about Twink til the end though.
financially syphilitic shyster Brilliant Maggot.
October 9th, 2009 @ 12:17 pm
You are talking about poor old Mother Ireland, when did they change the name from Eire to Yazz, I’ve been away since before the Lisbon vote.
October 9th, 2009 @ 12:29 pm
Does it mean we are paying for that cunt Gormleys wifes habit as well.
October 9th, 2009 @ 1:08 pm
One of his most difficult moments after resigning as taoiseach, Ahern said, was not attending the funeral of Ted Kennedy, the US senator, whom he knew since 1983. “He was a great character. I was going to go [to the funeral] myself but it didn’t work out without the facilities.”
http://www.timesonline.co.uk/tol/news/world/ireland/article6860424.ece
What does he mean, without the facilities ? That he would have had to have paid for his own flight and accommodation ?
October 9th, 2009 @ 1:54 pm
you should write porn 20, that post had potential.
October 9th, 2009 @ 2:47 pm
Is there a market for Porn for Manic Depressives ?
October 9th, 2009 @ 3:00 pm
i thought depression was a prerequisite
October 9th, 2009 @ 8:03 pm
Whoever,or whatever, laid her the night before must have had quite a load on him.
October 9th, 2009 @ 8:35 pm
I thought it was going to be Tracy Emin. That’s good and bows to Charles Bukowski, intentionally or not. There’s a line in post office where he say’s “You know it’s time to leave the party and go home to bed when you are drinking a can of beer which has been used as an ashtray but you don’t care.”
Maggot; I really fucking detest that man, Bertie Ahearn, like no other; even more than Dubya. “The facilties” weren’t there? If a person you like dies you go to their funeral, you find any way to do that. What a fucking horrible man. He is deluded.
October 9th, 2009 @ 8:36 pm
maggot Says:
October 9th, 2009 at 2:47 pm
Is there a market for Porn for Manic Depressives ?
yep
Apartment xxx
Block 9
********
Co. Dublin
October 9th, 2009 @ 9:45 pm
Bukowski is one of my heroes Itchy!
Tracy Emin ? That has canceled out the Britney high from the other thread. Amy Winehouse’s ugly sister .
October 10th, 2009 @ 3:26 am
This is beautiful. You are an artist.
October 10th, 2009 @ 3:39 pm
maggot Says:
October 9th, 2009 at 9:45 pm
Bukowski is one of my heroes Itchy!
Tracy Emin ? That has canceled out the Britney high from the other thread. Amy Winehouse’s ugly sister .
Britney and Amy (I Love Amy, nobidy understands her like me…*cough) are 2 of my favourite female artists. Cat Power is #1