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some days i think about her more than others. today was one of those days where she was in the forefront of my mind for the majority of the day.

this morning i woke up thinking about her. i was flat, unmotivated and just sad.

thought about you the whole way to work. i often think about you most when i'm driving. i always chuck a good cd on and crank it loud to try and sidetrack my mind.

tonight after dinner this stupid show was on in the back ground. Farmer wants a wife. one of those "reality" tv shows where two people are looking for love, etc etc. this particular episode was the final of the series where the farmer had to pick his girl with the plan to be together and "live happily ever after".

i found myself sitting there watching, saying how bullshit it is that these two people supposedly love each other and are going to live happily ever after. it just doesn't happen... that's what i tell myself anyway.

but when i stop to take a step back, i realise that's just me thinking like that intentionally because it's easier to sit there and watch these two people that may well be the love of there lives and say it's bullshit, than it is to sit there and think about the opportunity i destroyed with someone i loved so much, but never had the courage to truly open up and let them in.

according to me, true love doesn't exist -- when really, yes it does, i just choose not to believe it because it's easier.


i would do anything to go back into time and fix my mistakes. i am so stuck with what i did. i can't let go, i cannot forgive myself.

something once so good destroyed by something so naive, heartless and stupid that was me.

i'm my own biggest disappointment in this world. somehow i'm meant to let go of what i did and move on. but to say i have faith and i'm motivated is just a front. pretending is exhausting. deep down it feels so pointless.

all i want to do is disappear without anyone ever knowing. without anyone ever making a fuss. just vanish as if i never existed. but no matter how much of a disappointment i am to myself, i would never do that to my family who i am so fortunate to have. their love and what they've done for me since the day i was born is the only thing that keeps me going. if i was to just disappear, it would be such a waste and pointless of everything they've done for me. they don't deserve that. neither does she, the person i hurt so much and inevitably destroyed the best thing i ever had going in this life.
I was going down a dark dark path with the tussin. It's a poision Ans It was painful to have to go to the psychward just to see that I had to get rid of that problem. I was enjoying it to much and ppl say you can't get addicted to that but thats bs. You can when weed only makes you talk to walls and paranoid and you would never touch H or Ice ever again. It's fun don't get me wrong but, our bodies weren't made to take on most of the challenges we face thru drugs. I think that cop was sent by God and he intervined because He saw how much damage I was doing. Now I have legal matters but I;m not stressing. I know they'll come and pass.
I'm not sure of the wisdom of this post considering I'm almost 3 certifications deep away from a very successful IT career (at the tender age of 24 at that :=D) however I've been a member of this forum for a few years and I feel as though here I am amongst friends not to mention this blog section is neatly tucked away to everyone's convenience, I suppose. Alright to the latest events in my ever populated life of religious corruption, inane drug use, and at times (as I will get into) borderline insanity.

This situation started with a simple order. 5 grams of South African kief from my supply. Normally my orders take around a week to arrive (at least the same amount sent to me as a freebie). His statement is it can take up to 3 weeks to arrive however after a week I became concerned. I kicked up my study schedule so that gave me the sort of jolt that I can say to myself I'm okay and still on track. This concern quickly turned into depression. I felt as though nothing in my life was going right and I couldn't make a simple sane decision. I spent the majority of time in bed during the day and began drinking in the morning. I topped off with a bottle of wine around 7 am coupled by a Buspar. I also have been booting person after person from my life for next to no reason. I have had wall screaming episodes (not at anyone in particular) to the point where my older woman I am currently "dating" chose to call the police supposedly out of concern of a second girlfriend in my apartment that I "might have been abusing". I am far from abusive as a boyfriend but she was concerned. Nothing came of it and I actually developed a good relationship with local authorities from it.

Finally my package arrived just as I knew it would: when I least expected. I had bought 8 ounces of some high quality British tobacco so I immediately rolled a hand pressed hash cigarette. Delicious to say the least. I rolled another than another then realized if I were to eat that day I would have to hit up the apartment grill (a pretty nice gas lazyman) and began marinating and seasoning the steaks. So I did as stoned as I was grabbed a Natty Ice packed my usual bag of condiments and walked to the grill. Drank my beer relatively quickly and just sat down in an absolutely stoned manner and waited to flip. Later my pot smoking neighbor showed up. I owed him a few bucks so I had been avoiding him for the last few months. I didn't hesitate to offer him a session of hand pressed hash. He agreed so I finished cooking and we met upstairs in his apartment. We must have smoked 3 grams of completely pure kief out of his bong. He also gave me a shot of patron and some mdpv. I loved it and wanted more and more but he cut me off. Which is good I suppose. We matched up and I began buying weed. No big. Owed him some cash so I loaned my laptop knowing that my father would quickly take it out of hock. He also owed me more than required to pay. That led to my phone and ps3. By the time I sold my phone and bought my last bag I had tenbucks left over. Here comes the drama right lol?

I decided I haven't done computer duster in a while so I was going to pick up a can and give it a go. Immature to say the least. I did and began huffing. I didn't like it and it made me retarded I actually did my entire first can in my bathtub with running water which I would turn off and on with my foot. Dangerous but I was confident about my judgement 8). I preceded to pawn my ps3 which I spent on 2 more cans of dust off that day. The third can came in and my dad opened my apartment door. I was relatively coherent but had a line of drool on my chin and bugged out eyes along with a half empty can of dust off on the floor. He simply told me I was going to ruin my brain (which I need for my studies *cue punch line drum beat*). And suggested the next day I go to fair oaks a pleasant mental facility that I have enjoyed a few stays at in the past. I said I'd considered it. The next day I bought another can as soon as the store opened killed it and then went to my parents house to scrape change for a final one. I killed it and laid down on my new comforter with bugged out eyes waiting for the inevitable. As soon as my dad came I asked to go Fair Oaks.

I spent four nights and actually was stabilized on my meds. I feel amazing and through the paxil lamictal and buspar I actually feel stable and somewhat stress free. I mainly went to loose that short period of craving nitrous always brings and so I wouldn't get any bright ideas only a few days later. Like my fucking flat screen. I'm glad I went and even met a local girl who seemed to be pretty into me. I'm not advocating dating mental patients (which includes my self) but she was sweet affectionate and even introduced herself to my parents and hers. A little early of course but I thought it was generous move. She gave me her number along with a call me! :) . If nothing else its flattering and reassuring seeing as how I have blown off most women I've dated since since my ex and the baby at times I doubt even exists. This includes the nut I met in rehab who was on probation for vehicular manslaughter for doing dust off while driving on the highway. Attractive young 20 year old though so I suppose I may not have the healthiest taste in women.

Today I am happy to see I am *healthier* mentally then when I came in. No desire to scream or act out and able to focus. I might try to score some prescribed adderall and klonopin to get me through the stress of the 7-10 years of hard work of ahead of me however I am confident sans marriage or a child I am responsible for I can accomplish it. If I ever have kids of my own I am definitely hiring a nanny until 13. I want them to be educated in formal manners such as those of british royalty. Ballroom dancing, correct soup eating, and how to properly introduce themselves. Nevertheless I am at the very least less interested in drugs. I am almost positive I will not be getting 100% sober but on my meds my desire to get high has lessened greatly. I encourage all those with dual diagnoses who are concerned with usage to take their medication. Crazy is Beautiful is something someone drew there and it kind of struck a receptor in me no pun intended. Maybe before I get serious I can still date crazy chicks though. Either way I'm about done with the everyday desire to use cocaine and smoke marijuana. I have a strong desire for a successful future and this will take more than a few years of work. Alright end of soap box and horn tooting I have said more than enough.

I hope everyone's week was better than mine or at least as eventful.

With love,

Spooky Snacks
dunno why im writing this but anyway in 2006 i took 1 capsule of a legal (at the time) high every day. i cant remember what the main ingredient was but im pretty sure it was bzp. the capsules were orange and i bought in bulk to save money. the thing is that i didnt even realise i was taking them. i mean i knew i was taking them in the logical sense, but i just cant believe that i took this stuff every single day with no ill effects.

i had some brilliant times during this period with a lot that i cant remember. i probably didnt do my liver any favours looking back.

if i was to take bzp or mbzp now i can guarantee i would feel like shit the next day, but somehow i went on a 6 month binge (unintentional) without any drastic negative happenings.

hmm yeah
somehow along the lines of child hood, growing up, i found myself with this belief that if it appears to be too good to be true, than chances are it is too good to be true.

it's not such a bad rule to acknowledge. but at the same time, sometimes you have to let go and test the water. see if it is actually too good to be true, because if you never test it, you'll never really know exactly what is true and what is too good to be true.
Well, I'm lying on my back in my bed after spending the last hour moderating the DC and OD forums here on Bluelight, and I'm trying to think back to one other single productive activity that I took part in today, and I'm truly at a loss.

When I woke up in the morning I ate breakfast and then left the house to get on the train to head to my methadone clinic. However, before I got to the station my mind changed gears and I thought "I want to get high instead". So I tried my luck at 10 O'Clock in the morning to get a hold of my heroin dealer, and sure enough he picked up. I then hopped onto the train and rode it in the opposite direction of my methadone clinic, and copped a few bags of heroin, which I then shot up in the park.

I then decided to skip class and go down to Barnes and Nobles to waste some time there. I first walked around union square and talked to some familiar faces though.

Ugh, I just don't have the energy to write anymore here, or try and be unique or intelligent. Just the same old bullshit. A quest for drugs masked under a hundred different reasons, and all the reasons are excuses.
.....Europe and I have:
-Fallen totally in love with Amsterdam- didn't wanna leave- was my paradise.
-Decided that European men are gorgeous
-Found that people in The Netherlands and Germany are super nice
-Noticed you can buy disposable bullet vibrators out of vending machines at gas stations
-Developed a distaste for English Accents....the people in London seemed so rude! The accent just started to grate on my nerves after so long :\
-Driven faster than ever on the Autobahn
-Drank Heineken fresh from the brewery
-Discovered that people here are FAR more artistic and generally awesome lol
-Learned, while cruising along through canals in Amsterdam and the Amstel River, that I don't want to touch the water
-my nose twisted about having to pay to use the bathroom anywhere. That's so unfair!
-confusion about why all bottles of water are tiny and 2 euros :( Boo.
-Ate Jager Schnitzel at a REAL german place and was disappointed when it came with fries lol
-had the scariest experience with my brother when I saw exactly as he would appear if he were dead on the streets of Amsterdam. :( Not a good moment.
-So far, had the best coffee in London. Surprising to me but I will update as I'm heading to Italy soon and have 3 cafes here in the area of Germany I'm currently staying in within walking distance
-Think I was born in the wrong country.


.....More to come!!!
Well, Canterbury weren't built in a day, croaked regimental corporal Johnathon monobrow in his soft hovis bread northern accent.

(His breath smelled of nostalgia with a hint of yeast).
'Enough with these surreptitious rambling meanderings scolded lady gravy.

Hey! 'It's all gravy baby' jeered air pilot Alexander extraordinaire, whilst mustering enough theatrical eyebrow to seduce even the ladiest of ladies.

'It's about time we took this by storm' shouted lady gravy.

'EVERYONE!
Buckle up the battle hatches and board the airship.
We shan't be cack-handed scoundrels when calibrating this missionary'.

We must be impeccable. In Peckham, able. And ready to strike at a moments notice.

Billy bracket aided fanatically by bostick post its and sellotape, goaded himself in to position.

77 foot sterling northeast was the emerald city. Aka, Peckham.

Johnathon monobrow removed his spectacular spectacles. Clarice cliff titanium framed items. With "Albanian tap handle V hinges"©.
The man was all about style; 'he who has the snaz' (and all that jazz) was his philosophy.

'LETS GET THIS SHOW ON THE ROAD' he shouted.....
Friday October 26th 2012
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George, my partner, and I swerved along the road. I was in love. The music. The people. The car ride.

George made me feel this way and we were about to pick up my ex girlfriend, Crystal from a gas station. We would most likely have sex. I would be uplifted.

"I think I should become a DJ. I would be the best DJ in the world." George exclaimed.
"I don't care George. If you want it. Do it." I replied, annoyed by his self-centered giddiness.

We arrived at the gas station. Crystal unloaded a cluster of stolen goods into my car. Her eyes were tired, dilated and sunken in. Her body looked depraved. At least George was in good shape. Neither of them were mentally stable.

"Hi!" she squealed. Smacking on a piece of gum. Her make-up was far over done. I gave her a kiss. Her lips were dry. George stared from the front seat like a starving dog.

"We should have a threesome." George suggested.
"No George. No two-guy threesomes." I spouted.

Crystal laughed as we rode away from the Gas station.
"I should stop hanging out with you guys." I bluntly stated. I looked at my eyes in the mirror. My pupils were large. I had no color to my eye except black.

George struck me in the stomach hard enough that I doubled over in pain at the wheel. I owed a debt to them. A debt of pleasure.

That night a faint slapping, moaning and breathing could be heard from the other room as George sat by himself. He cried. Sex is all he needed. The envy of being the third wheel was far too much. George loved the world and everyone in it. When he said he loved a person, he meant it. When feelings for George were lost, he was lost too.

But I didn't need to be doing this to myself. Crystal will break my heart as the sun rises and she goes home. Not even the compassion and love of George would save me.

I crushed Crystal and threw it in the toilet. I drank George, but I was running out. I felt relaxed at the moment, but in a few hours I would need to get more. I liked to love. To dream. But I was alone. I gazed at my ungodly dilated pupils. The world hated me, but I loved them.
I fucking hate almost everyone right now. I'm sick of everyone and everything. I need something new... somewhere new... maybe even a new substance...

I got ridiculously drunk on Monday... alcohol mixed with Suboxone and Klonopin isn't the best time... I should have went home but I went to therapy instead like a fucking train wreck.

I was with my best friend M... who was my best friend/drug buddy in High School... we had a lot of fun together... He ended up being gay and I ended up being bisexual and that was comical. Nothing seems to kill me. My liver will probably give out soon, though. One can only hope, right?

I've given up on everything.

I'm craving male attention for some reason, even though I love my girlfriend and she's way more than I deserve...

But I miss having a male partner. A boyfriend. And it's not my girlfriend's fault... she's great... she's just... not a man.

I've only been in 2 serious relationships in my life. 4 years with my ex-boyfriend and coming up on 6 years with my girlfriend.

I was supposed to marry and have kids with my ex boyfriend but a bunch of fucked up shit happened and we broke up in 2005. Then I was just "dating" or rather sleeping around with random dudes ... I was 19 years old so I guess it's not unheard of but none of them were interesting. I need someone who is my intellectual equal or even smarter than I am. (I'm not trying to say I'm really smart; I just slept with a bunch of dudes who were hot and had huge cocks but no fucking brains... Ugh, truth is painful. I'm not proud of that. It's just true.) Then this one dude I knew since we were really young would come over my house to hang out. I'd be getting drunk and stoned and he'd keep trying to sleep with me but I didn't want to sleep with him because he wasn't very attractive and he had a small dick. (Oops.)

But he was a big guy. So we're alone in my apartment (mistake), I'm getting drunk and stoned (mistake), and he starts trying to make out with me and the next thing I know he's fucking me, with me unable to do anything because he was so strong. I was cursing him out and telling him to get the hell off of me and all that other bullshit but I guess that's kind of the definition of rape.

He still lives in my neighborhood and I see him sometimes but he doesn't look at me if I pass him in the street. He has a 2 year old kid and I'm still "friendly" with his mom but I've never told anyone about this shit and I don't know why I'm writing about it now. I guess I deserved it. I shouldn't have let myself be alone with such a fucking asshole. I shouldn't have gotten drunk and high.

I should have slit my wrists a long time ago.
So why do I feel like it's all just a show? You make me wanna shut it all down, throw it all away, cuz I'm nothing if I don't have you. What's the point of being on top, all the money in the world, if I can't blow it all on you?

Truer words have never been spoken. It's not some disease, I'm not obsessed. It's what people that actually care about other people call love. I don't know what to do. Some days my depression is so bad that it feels like my head is floating around my room and I'm on a powerful dissociative. It's like I'm stuck in one feeling and one memory my whole day or week sometimes. I can sit in my bed, staring out my window for hours thinking about the same thing..

fuckfuckFUCKFUCKFUCK
Why is the only person that was ever a true friend to me now a douchebag that refuses to acknowledge I exist?
I found the world's biggest asshole instead, apparantly. And I got my heart broken. AGAIN.

This always happens. I always get bailed on, WITHOUT FAIL. Welcome to the world of sober relationships, eh? That was a really nice introduction... one that lasted all of what, a month?

One thing I have learned though is that I have NO FUCKING CLUE what it means to be in love. Whatever that was though, it felt great... while it lasted. But I couldn't have been in real love with him. He didn't even give me the courtesy of breaking up with me. He just bailed and left me to pick up the pieces.

So if that was fake love, I can only imagine what the real deal feels like. I look forward to it. The only problem is that I'm not sure anymore if I'll be able to recognize it when I find it. I think I've been burned too many times that I'll be too scared to risk letting it in.

I was NOTHING but the best girlfriend I could possibly be to him. I don't understand what happened. It couldn't have been that I was moving too fast, because I was more than happy to speed it up OR slow it down... I was following HIS pace! HE said, "I love you" first, HE came up with the idea of us moving out together in two months, HE declared first that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me and get married and have kids. It isn't because I cheated or lied or did anything else that is inexcusable. It certainly isn't because I didn't try. It isn't because I picked petty fights, or got jealous, or didn't let him do certain things, or was abusive. I didn't do ANYTHING but treat him the way he treated me up until today - like freaking royalty! So what happened? Why was I being treated like a princess one day, and the next I'm a fucking leper who he can't even deign to speak to long enough to tell me that it's over?

I'm being strong in person and on Facebook and to him and to my friends and everywhere else except here. I'm acting like it isn't bothering me much but the truth is it's agonizing and I feel literally sick. Excuse the melodrama, but I'm dying inside over here. I mean what the hell did I do to deserve this you guys? AGAIN?! Different person, more intense feelings, but the SAME situation. I get my heart broken over. And over. And OVER. I'm SO sick of it.

And don't I at least deserve an explanation? Or even just an, "I'm sorry"?! What about even just ONE word, like, "okay" or something, in response to what I said to him? It's not like I was rude about it! I'd rather him insult me and call me every name in the book than the absolute silence. It's just cruel, what he's done/is doing. Fuuuck dude... I just want to understand...
fuck I'm on a whole 180 thing from where I was 2 years ago. lets list it.

TODAY
-got a steady, decent paying job
-got a reliable, nice car
-married
-homeowner
-off dope for good

TWO YEARS AGO
-unemployed or working on and off under the table
-car was wrecked, then fixed, then taken because I couldn't be trusted with it
-as close to single as I've ever been with this woman
-about to get kicked out of the last place that would take me
-addicted to heroin
-using coke,crack, whatever pills I could steal/buy with the money I'd stolen or scammed my way into

I couldn't be happier where my life has taken me. anybody who is out there reading this who may be going through something similar, please don't hesitate to shoot me a PM if you just want to hear from someone who's been there and survived or ask any questions or whatever. or don't, whatever. lol I'm on some good mood shit today.....
i never set out to live this way,
this life chose me is what i would like to say,
but at the end of the day i know my choices have paved the way,
i remember when i used to say that all this would work out someway,
but i know now that it matters not what I say,
because choices matter you cant give them away.
experience I have ever been thru. I have had my OCD spike to where I thought I was dead and standing before a unseen God that was about to throw me into Hell. But I wasn't on a benzo and hadn't been on one for 5 yr's. This last expeiance where they detoxed me. I thought was my darkest hour. I came up behind this former army soldiar and he was like you just can't do that. He had PTSD. We are both cool but my facewas mad. I snap. You just don't yank ppl off benzo's and SSRI's that really makes a person sick. The nurses where just like ah whatever. The doc they assigned to me was more concerned about his liscene then the well being of his patient. When I got out to see my pdoc I told him. I don't want xanax just put me back on the klonopin. Because it was truly hell that I was going thru.
I put these in SO but thought I should put here aswell..
Firstly, my cat.



And unfinished van gogh I'm copying original click here

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