"Oh shit I overdosed."
"I'm going to die a worthless meth tweaker."
"I should go to the hospital"
"No, I can't, everyone will know. They might call the cops."
"I hate meth. I should have never done that."
"I'm never taking this drug again."
"Oh my god my heart is going to explode."
"Please, someone, save me. Give me another chance. I'll be good. I'll change."
"It's going to happen at any moment. It's going to happen. It's going to happen."
"It'll be painful and no one will help me. I will die."
"What happens after death?"
"I don't want to die."
"I just want a second chance."
Thought process of a real overdose:
"What the fuck is wrong with me?"
"I'm shaking uncontrollably."
"My kidneys HURT."
"My mouth tastes funny. Like metal or pennies."
"I can barely move."
"My heart is out of control. 200 BPM? That's not normal, I took the bump 10 minutes ago."
"I'm so fucking hot. I feel like I have a horrible fever."
"I don't care if the cops get called or my family knows about my use. Take me. Call 9-11."
I got a job and the first two weeks of it is consisting of a trip to a 200km away town to do a training. I'm staying at a hotel with a roomate. The second week will start this Monday. We were allowed to come back home this weekend.
So basically I'm surrounded by people the whole day. The training eats up 6 to 7 hours a day, then there is some activity to do after the training, usually followed by socializing. Honestly I would like to stay at the fucking hotel watching the 200 channel TV but I dont want to be the asshole who rejects the invitations. Then I gotta come back to the room to sleep with a roomate. I'm an only child so I never had siblings to share bedrooms with and this is new to me
There is actually quite some moments I have fun and some people I really do like, but godammit how I feel EXHAUSTED around people. Even in moments I'm having fun I feel suffocated. This is nothing new to me, I've always been like this but I never wanted so badly to have a few moments, like this, of feeling the bliss of being by myself.
"nothing suffocates you more than the passing of everyday human events"
Well, first post here in Blogs. I'd completely forgotten there was something parallel to the forums on BL. I'm not quite sure what I'll be saying here but well, I love both to write and talk about myself so I'm sure I'll find some stuff
Currently trying to postpone studying for my philosophy exam. I'm one of those people who preferred to stay outside and smoke during class in high school and who somehow still miraculously made it through, and everyone wonders why. Or maybe it's just that six months of benzo blackouts have made me forget how to actually work. In any case, this is going very slowly and unproductively and it's getting quite frustrating.
It's been a difficult year and I'm glad things are finally starting to settle down a little. Can't say I'm thrilled with the way my life is right now, but at least I've torn myself away from my previous addictions (about a month clean both from heroin and benzos, hooray) and I'm starting to finally really get to know some people here. Moving to a new country on your own really is quite daunting. Especially knowing all my friends are still together back home. I have to confess I didn't expect to miss them this much - or my family, for that matter.
But it was also good for me to get this fresh start, a jab at a new life, I think. I needed it.
Just got back from watching American Psycho with a few people upstairs, that was pretty cool although I'm too creeped out to go to sleep now, ha. Somehow the conversation turned to drug use and they were all talking about 'tripping so hard on codeine' and I just sat there awkwarkly thinking about how much I wanted heroin. It wasn't nice. It's so strange to have that sort of secret that no one suspects. I wonder what other people are hiding.
Please. I have a ton of new music but none of it has really captured my interest. I don't know if it is just me or what but everything I've listened to sounds so bland.
Where is your cell phone?
no cell phone Where is your significant other?
no SE What color is your hair?
brown Where is your mother?
French Riviera Where is your father?
French Riviera What is your favorite thing?
A good joint of skunk Your dream last night?
yeah sure Your favorite drink?
anything pineapple Your hobby?
writing Your fear?
insects Where do you want to be in 6 years?
I don't know Where were you last night?
in front of my computer Something that you aren't?
happy wish list item?
electric brushing teeth machine Last thing you did?
lit a cig What are you wearing?
hobo clothes What did you watch on TV last night?
nothing Your pet's name?
Pomme (French for Apple -it's a dog, a lab) Describe your friends?
few Describe your life?
joker Your mood?
sad Are you missing someone?
yes What do you drink?
pineapple juice What kind of car do you have?
none - I take the subway, like all conscious Parisians Something you're not wearing?
piercings Your favorite store?
none - I hate stores, I know, so heterosexual... Your favorite color?
my eyes are blue, babe When is the last time you cried?
everytime you go Who will resend this?
lolwut? Where do you go to over and over?
my methadone clinic Five people who email me regularly?
not one Favorite place I'd like to be right now?
Holland Four people I think will respond
don't know
Not only now, but throughout my lifetime, my DOC has made me a better person.
By better, I mean the following:
I am a more useful human because I experienced selfless, whole love through a change in my consciousness brought about by psychotropic chemicals. I feel that more love is better and therefore I am a better person because I feel loved and I have more compassion than I did before. The substances filtered through my body and were long gone but my understanding was changed forever.
I am a more highly skilled person because my DOCs have led me to learn new skills. Chemicals have to be accessed and handled in different ways and I developed new skills with each new admixture I became familiar with. I also developed a keener sense of my abilities and I have done more to increase my life skills because I saw that it was a possibility after my perception was altered. Chemicals are restricted under the laws of time and eventually I became free of the chemical, but I retained the skills I had mastered and continued to seek out and employ new skills.
I see no reason to extrapolate any further. I believe I've explained myself enough to get my point across, which is, Yes my DOC has made me a better person.
It is so sad to see you upset and not be able to hug you. Even after almost 10 years passing, i can honestly still say i love you. In a way i wish you would feel the same but at the same time i'm glad you do not. Neither of us needs the additional complication of a relationship at this stage in our lives.
After 4 years together we ended in the same manner we begun. Slow-paced descent. I've thought about the reasons that led to where we are and whilst this introspection is not done for the purpose of "fixing" us (which is normally the case) I thought it worthwhile to put pen to paper figuratively speaking. There will be times in the coming months where I will miss you, us and may considering rekindling what once was. That cannot be though so here it is, top 10 reasons why we couldn't make it work:
1. We hate everything about each other. We may love each other but we do not like each other AT ALL anymore.
2. We cannot agree on anything. Not politics, religion, life-style choices. ANYTHING.
3. We do not make each other happy anymore, being together has become a chore as opposed to a free choice.
4. I dont trust you when it comes to money.
5. You do not trust my intentions and are constantly accusing me of having alterior motives for everything I do. I cannot live like this.
6. We constantly argue about anything and everything. It is f*cking exhausting.
7. I don't think you will be a good life partner - we have no common interests and cannot even hold a decent conversation anymore.
8. I don't think you will be a good father - you seem more interested in gambling and drinking than anything else and I can't see myself having a child with you because of this.
9. You never believed in me. All throughout getting my degree you kept insisting it was never going to pay off - glad to be able to prove you wrong after all these years.
10. I am no longer attracted to you - you stopped taking pride in your appearance and seem to only make an effort to look good when you are out with your friends.
Feel like a massive weight has finally been lifted off my shoulders and can now breathe easy again
I am still in the Bronx with no firm plans to return home much to the chagrin of Mariz and her family. When Winter Break let's out in 3 weeks the family is heading to Bataan Province, where Mariz's parents are originally from, and where Mariz herself was born. The pastor, Mariz's father, is excitedly making plans to bring me along to present me to both sides of the family. It is difficult explaining to people who have never left the Philippines just how hard it is to find an inbound seat during Xmas Season.
One of the (many) things I find disgusting about the Philippines is the OFW System. OFW, or Overseas Foreign Worker, denoted Filipinos who take part in a government programme that exports more than 10 percent of the country's labour force abroad. Remittances from OFWs are what keeps the Philippine Economy afloat. One would imagine that because it is a government programme that OFWs enjoy care and assistance from the Philippine Government. Aside from an OFW liason in most embassies and some consulates there is no assistance whatsoever.
One is hardpressed to find a Filipino adolescent anywhere that doesn't dream of becoming an OFW. In a nation where upper middle class translates into $250 a month in wages, wiping an elderly person's ass in Brasil can make someone comparitively wealthy- or at least that is the commonly held fantasy. The reality of the matter is that OFWs must go abroad through government sanctioned labour agencies which commonly charge $3,000, a year and a half worth of upper middle class wages. Therefore they go heavily into debt, mortgaging or selling off anything and everything in sight. Oftentimes this requires the services of a loan shark, in Filipino speak, a "money lender." So, from the door the OFW owes nearly 2 years wages (as much as 10 years if from the lower classes as are the majority of OFWs).
Then, there is the cost of living in host nations. Here in New York City a furnished room usually costs $800. Add to that food, transportation and so on and the net result is a very meagre existence. Whatever money is left at the end of the month goes to the Philippines as a remittance. At home OFWs bask in adulation, living a life most dream of and like people anywhere, they do precious little to dispel these false impressions of life abroad.
Most OFWs only get home once every 3 years or so, and when they do go home it is inevitably for Xmas with the family. Airlines therefore gouge prices and a one way ticket from New York to Manila can cost nearly $2,000, as opposed to the usual $750. Since Mariz's family has never gone abroad they don't understand the difficulty I face in trying to get home before Winter Break.
Last week, I was invited to attend a wedding for the first cousin of the mate I am staying with. The wedding took place in Stroudsberg, Pennsylvania, about 2 hours west of New York City by auto. My mate, his wife, 2 of his kids, his mother and his sister all went in his car so I took a bus. I stayed in the Hamilton Inn where we all had rooms, a decent enough motel. The wedding took place in a place called the Stroudsberg Inn which sits atop a bluff, the town being in the Pocono Mountains.
The ceremony was in a medium sized room with a gas fueled fire place but the atmosphere was nice enough. The reception, upstairs, left alot to be desired. The food sucked. A fruited pork loin, basically 2 slices of pork loin with stewed figs and raisins. The part that floored me though was the powdered mash potatoes. What the fuck? Better to have a tiny reception with class than to have a big affair that comes off garishly. When Rizza and I had a reception in New York for close family members of mine who couldn't make it to Israel, where we held our Jewish Wedding, I paid $5,000 for 30 people in a private room at 21 Club. To me? It makes no sense to have a large reception unless you do it right.
Of course I was polite, as I usually am, and thanked the couple for inviting me (I'm sure the hundred dollar bill I gave them had something to do with their profuse gratitude at the end of the evening). I was pleased that there were no brawls. I have rarely seen a Puerto Rican party where at least one fight took place.
Laying awake back at the motel I messaged with Mariz as I fought the urge to sleep having taken my dose of methadone. The free breakfast in the morning was worth noting. Almost everytime a chain motel advertises a free breakfast you end up with a tiny box of cereal, stale donuts and a hard boiled egg. This motel did an admirable job. Grabbing a couple of yogurts for the road I hopped in a taxi and back to the Deleware Water Gap bus station for the long ride back to the city.
Thanksgiving came and went. As a Jew I do not celebrate it. Suprisingly my mate and his family didn't either. This morning he, his wife and their 2 year old daughter left for a 3 day visit to Scranton, Pennsylvania where a sister of his wife lives. Staying with me in their flat then is his son, 20 and jobless and one of her sons, 19 and flamboyantly gay. Both will undoubtedly have lovers staying over tonight.
The gay one stays in his room when his lover visits and I'm glad for it. I don't have any sort of complex about homosexuality, being very secure in my orientation, but homosexual acts are punishable by death in my culture. Judaism has eschewed capital punishment for 2,100 years, and instead ostracises such people. When I was in prison I would see such things though usually it wasn't out in the open. Still, I find it very distasteful but then I would also find a man and woman fucking in front of me to be distasteful in much the same way.
I just came from the methadone clinic and am slowly making my way to the #2 bus on Morris Avenue and E138th Street. I was a bit peeved to discover that the clinic is now changing its hours. Currently it is open from 630AM to 630PM. Starting December 17th it will close at 530PM. I guess that still leaves guest dosing at Bellevue in Manhattan if I need to go in late. Bellevue is open until 730PM.
Okey, I have been playing with DXM lately and have written about it on OD mainly because of its abilities for tolerance prevention.
I have written to OD how I reduced my clonazepam dose rapidly from 1,5mg to 0,25mg in about two weeks and my sleep was good all that time etc. Then I stopped DXM and started doing other things few weeks. Ex. Tramadol, aniracetam, noopept, DMAE, vinpocetine. Lysine also and it is definately good for benzo withdrawal (thanx Swimmingdancer for advice). It has very sedative effect with benzos and allmost it works like benzo itself.
I used tramadol now about three weeks and I've been using on/off to tramadol different time periods (few days to many months) allmost three years. Usually, when I'v stopped tramadol cold turkey after three weeks from 300-400mg/day dose I've had withdrawals (I might have developed some baseline tolerance after three years use) nasty enough. Usually been at least week very fatiqued, depressed, cold/hot, bedridden like sick and not definately motivated to do anything.
Now the day after I had stopped tramadol I took all day DXM. About 500mg. No withdrawals. Second day I took about 600mg. No withdrawals. Infact, I walked two hours that day. Never happened before in second day of withdrawals. Now it is third day and withdrawals are usually been worst on a second or thirth day after stopping. Now I have allmost none. That's amazing.
What is very interesting also, is that during those two or three weeks period my benzo dose was that 0,5mg but toward end it started to feel more and more it wasn't enough and I had to use more Lysine (up to 4,5g/day) to prevent upping that clonazepam. Now I'm not sure if that's because of noopept/aniracetam acting against benzos or maybe vinpocetine or DMAE. What is difficult for me to believe is that this urge to increase benzo dose was due to serotonin deficiency because tramadol causes nice release in serotonin (at least I suppose so). The second day of DXM use I just felt that 0,5mg clonazepam was too much and I dropped it to 0,25mg and slept very restful night of 8 hours! No withdrawals today from either clonazepam or tramadol and I haven't even take DXM today!
So my plan for now on is might be this:
Using DXM and replasing clonazepam with L-Lysine (as fast as possible with DXM use). I like experimentals.
Okey, I have been playing with DXM lately and wrote here about it mainly because of its abilities for tolerance prevention.
I have wrotten on OD some time ago how I reduced my clonazepam from 1,5mg to 0,25mg in about two weeks and my sleep was good all that time etc. Then I stopped DXM and started doing other things few weeks. Ex. tramal, aniracetam, noopept, DMAE, vinpocetine. Lysine also and it is definately good for benzo withdrawal (thanx swimmingdancer for advice)$. Has very sedative effect with benzos allmost would say it works like benzo itself.
I used tramadol now about three weeks and I've been on/off addicted to tramadol allmost three years. Usually, when I'v stopped tramadol cold turkey after three weeks from 300mg/day dose I've had withdrawals (I might have developed some baseline tolerance after three years use) nasty enough. Usually been at least week very fatiqued, depressed, cold/hot, bedridden like sick and not definately motivated to do anything.
Now day after I had stopped tramadol I took all day DXM. About 500mg. No withdrawals. Second day I took about 600mg. No withdrawals. Infact, I walked two hours that day. Never happened before in second day of withdrawals. Now it is third day and withdrawals are usually been worst on a second or thirth day after stopping. Now I have none. That's amazing.
What is interesting also, is that during those two or three weeks period my benzo dose was that 0,5mg but toward en it started to feel more and more it wasn't enough and I had to use more Lysine (up to 4,5g/day) to prevent upping that clonazepam. Now I'm not sure if that's because of noopept/aniracetam acting against benzos or maybe vinpocetine or DMAE. It is difficult to me to believe that this urge to increase benzo dose was due serotonin deficiency because tramadol causes nice release in serotonin (at least I suppose so). The second day of DXM use I just felt that 0,5mg clonazepam was too much and I dropped it to 0,25mg and slept good night of 8 hours! No withdrawals today from either clonazepam or tramadol and I haven't even take DXM today!
So my plan for now on is maybe this:
Using DXM and replace clonazepam completely with L-Lysine (or as fast as possible with DXM use). I like experimentals.
Okay, So I am a little peeved and decided to rant awhile in a blog.
I have been searching all over the internet tryna find an adress or location of the one and only NEP in Okahoma. It is appearently in OKC, but I have yet to find an adress! I'm officially pissed off. I need new sterile works and i do all i can to a harm reduction oriented individual. Damnit, Middle America makes it damn near impossible for a respopnsble/recreatonal IV drug user to use safely! the Pharmacist claims there's a law that trumps the legality of purchasing syringes. Claims there's a law that the Pharmacist does not have to sell to a person who they believe to be an IDU if they have a moral belief it's wrong or some shit?!?! WTF?!?!
The extremes I have to go to to get sterile works is ridiculous! Luckily I found a Pharmacist who didn't feel politically obligated to withhold the works.
This Concludes the KING'S Rant of the Month.
dee-ba-dee-ba-deeeeee THAT'S ALL FOLKS!
HAA!
I can't sleep. My mind just won't shut off and allow my body to slumber.
Today marks the one year anniversary of my grandfather's death. It was actually about this time of the day as well. I never ever thought I'd take it as hard as I did and still am. His death wasn't unexpected and he lived a long full life and was 95 when he died. It absolutely shattered me though and I still can't quite figure out how to pick up all the pieces. Pretty much any time I think of him I just burst into tears. It doesn't matter where I am so I often end up getting quite embarrassed.
Most (if not all) of my memories of him are good and happy. I guess that's probably why this has been so hard for me. He was so purely good. No doubt the best man I've ever met. He was humble and quiet. He loved me for me and even at my worst, he could see beyond that and I knew it and that love carried me through. I think my relationship with him has been one of the few "normal" cookie cutter things in my otherwise pretty fucked up life. He always made me feel like there was hope without saying anything.
The love he and my grandmother shared was incredible. Up to the end, you could still see the love radiating off of them when they were together. Actually, I think the first time I ever saw them apart was at his funeral. It just wasn't right to see her without him. My heart still breaks for her. Next week will be weird to see her again without him. I was supposed to see him at Thanksgiving last year. Part of me wishes that I was able to see him one last time, but also part of me was glad that I remember him as being healthy and strong. I don't know if I would have been able to handle seeing him carting around an oxygen tank and knowing that it would be the last time.
I know that he knew that I loved him and I know that he loved me, but sometimes I wish I could go back and just say it to him. I miss him.
Alright I'm not really in the mood for a writing a blog but I watched a video on youtube that really inspired me to write a blog in which I describe my recent revelation in regards to the Krishna and devout Christian faith.
The conclusion is this: they are animals.
I have been debating in my own mind why these people find it impossible to recognize and process the fact that I am vehemently opposed to any lifestyle which attempts to control and secure power through manipulation and hiding the facts.
The kirshna's for centuries have placed a shroud over ancient wisdom in an effort to ensure their own survival. They survive through stealing and acquiring contributions from generous and caring sources. Afterwards they respond to this generosity by abusing and fornicating its source.
This type of behavior is similar to survival methods of various wild species who share sustenance amongst the community for a common goal. Human beings on the other hand specifically attain their own sustenance as this is a means of assured growth and prosperity of the community as a whole. The krishna's have blatantly refused to follow this procedure and have thus reduced their existence to a mere animal.
That is all in regards to theory...
In other news found a major supporter for deathbylollipop named Diablo-D3 very cool dude.
Oh and deathbylollipop has changed from a non-profit organization to a For Profit organization.
I would come before you all normally to give a sob story about how bad drugs are. There would be a tale of extremes and spiraling out of control. In context there would be a sense of no self-respect. I am no victim. The choices I have made are a result of my own arrogance and desire to spread the truth. The truth I want to speak of is no more than a minute of your time.
Some go through life without touching an illegal psychoactive compound. They graduate college. Pursue work in the private sector or with the government. This lifestyle glows in their eyes. Yellow. A sense of bliss, liveliness, optimism. Society smiles down on these people and they smile back. Neighborhood barbecues. Birthday parties with screaming children and bowling.
A refreshment of morning coffee. Hobbyist and well-being conversations.
Saturday morning children's cartoons.
Its a bright and shining life. The brighter the light, the darker its shadow.
One day you awake in a body of someone that cannot feel comfort without a substance in which is nearly unattainable. Remember that world where the neighbor invited you over for barbecue? Now the neighbor calls the police instead. Your morning coffee is a forbidden fruit. You are no longer free, you have awoken in the realm of the devil. Surrounded on all sides. You are trying to fit in. You are the lost soul nobody wants. No matter how much pain and suffering you endure, the drug free world will feel no empathy. A cold desire to eliminate your existence hovers in the air like a thick fog.
If you were human, you would have graduated college instead of rolling on the floor laughing after a good hit while class was going on. If you were human, you would have quit that job instead of being fired. If you are not human, then what are you?
The "good" majority will never know the truth. They will never know what it is like to be in the situations of the drug world. The high level drug dealers, violence, robbery, a vulture named death, Jesus Christ what a life.
The "good" majority cannot comprehend drug use. They cannot see the moral difference between meth or heroin. They cannot fathom the horrible people who carry date rape drugs.
If the good people had a choice to eliminate all the bad people in the world, would they silence me? A child of God and promoter of safety. Would they lock up a man that has never even contemplated theft, assault or murder? Is it right to kick a man that is down, a man cornered on all sides?
When will the world learn the subjectivity of right and wrong. When will it be right to be peaceful, seek knowledge and explore psychoactive substances? Clearly I am wrong and there will be no further reasoning as to why.
The art of debate is dead. Currency took its head.
That's my spiel. I learned it from him. He learned it from someone else.
So that's not my spiel.
Think for yourself. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UIsXZVhvvGs
Oh. That's not my spiel either. I learned it from him. He learned it from Voltaire. He learned it from someone else.
So that's not my spiel either.
I want to say something new.
I want to say something original.
I wan't to say something.
But nothing that I have learned can be original.
Maybe it's just that I can rearrange what I can put it together - maybe that is what is original.
Why do I even want to say anything original. What's so good about originality. Why do I even want to say something at all?
It's late.
I'm tired.
And tomorrow is another day.
Too much thinking.
For one day.
But what separates night from day? It is a continuous flow..........
Create your own flow of time.
24 hours in day.
It's late, I have work tomorrow.
Another day in paradise.
Yawn.
Fucking, fucking, Nazi scumbags won't let me post 2 videos in one message. What's the fucking difference if I want to fill it with links to shitty videos. I need a work around.
Peace and quiet.
Serenity.
Storm in a tea cup.
At least no one died.
Uh??
I hate killing. Let's just all cut it out, shall we?
If language can change anything, it can make us care about other people - not detatch us from believing that they are real.
The story isn't real. I'm not a Jew, or a Christian, or a man. But I am something. I exist in the form of a human, as we call it. A brave soul. Mommy's little soldier.
Love life.
Never stop caring.
Sometimes you have to be cruel to be kind.
It's hard man.
It's hard.
It's hard.
When no one knows just how it goes.
Connect to the past, the present, and steer the future with the wisdom of the ages.
Because if history tells us anything, it's that we never learn from history.
No community.
No society.
No people.
Individuals? Yes.
Cast your net into history, drag it back for the future. Because everything counts.
I have gone through the withdrawals many times, but the last time has fucked me up so bad. They are so intense, before they were tolerable. But on Sunday, I lost control from the waist down, all the muscles in my legs went rigid, then spasmed uncontrollably for a minute. Then it was over. I knew something was up when I couldn't speak/ see/ hear properly, but before that my hands went numb, then my arm. It was horrible. I can't wrtie anymore, my vision is so blurry and fucked at the momemt. Oh god I am so scared. When will this stop?
I love you, Grandpa. Always 
