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I find myself listening to love songs, and thinking of him so much. This is so hard because he is so far away from me. We talk everyday, but it is just so hard, because I truly love and care for him deeply. He is planning a trip to see me next month and I am so excited. I mean, he is so talented and smart. He's funny, and loving. Not to mention so gorgous. I am so nervous. Even though I have known him for many years on the boards of bluelight and in private chats. We have became such close and dear friends, I find myself falling so hard. I just don't want to ever loss his friendship.
AM I crazy to take this chance? What if we are great together, or what if we loss our wonderful friendship? I want to move forward with him with all of my being, but I do worry. I wouldn't be Stella if I didn't, lol. Either way, I am taking the chance. I wonder how many BL couples make it? Can this be the new and in love me? I mean, I have been out, but I never had the connection I have with him. So why not just go with it. Whats the worst thing....I could be a happier person lol......

waves rolling
sand digesting
thunder illuminating
trees swaying
shadows dancing
fire breathing

Hey..havnt blogd na bit. Sorta needa i guess. Just got released from the psych ward/detox for Methadone addiction.which suckd because they dont give you suboxone or any of that good shit . Just gave me clonidine,fenobarbitol, and some other weak shit. So for 5 days in there i sweated it out which was fuckin miserable. Now im released and in a halfway house type deal in the freekn hooood! Like ive already got heroin connections when i first pulled up here. But its something i gota do man in order to get into a even better rehab program. All i know is i was evicted from my last place of residence bcus of the methadone and still got all my shit there,which i hope i can get a majorty of it tommorow. Also start classes at this place from 9-3 or something and going to get my sister to scoop me up i hope to get some bedsheets n blankets n my shit ya kno? Still sorta detoxing from the methadone which sucks fucking balla because it feels awful.google methadone wd,thats all what im feeling and all i got is some ib prophins,like that shits gonna do anything.. well trying to keep high spirits about the deal.im pretty much on my own here,parents told me ther cutting my fancy phone off so dunno,hopefully ill blog again.love ya all,peace

eh,
(ill just copy paste a msg to a friend and add to it later).
today hasn't been a good day for me, was just discharged from IOP because it took me to long to find labcorp(drug testing place), my counsler wouldn't go into details. which maybe this is a blessing in it's self. because this means i'm able to find a job and work full time now. Still a little upset because the place i am living at was being paid by the IOP place for me to live there, so now this means i'm going to HAVE to find a job in order to remain there. Not going to let this fuck my shit up, this is only a minor setback, atleast i still have my car, and some other things.
--
So now i'm not having to go to fucking stupid ass drug classes from 8-5 every day of the week, so instead i'll be able to get a job and work, wait let me rephrase that;I'm GOING to have to get a job and work because if not then I'll have no where to go, besides a shelter or sleep in my car. still have like 6 bigass black garbage bags full of my cloths among abunch of other shit at this halfway house that i'm at. I'm going to talk with the director tonight whenever i get around there and plead with him about keeping me a spot there until i'm able to work and pay rent. I'm sure he's going to ask why i was dischraged from there, and im pretty fucking sure my cockassfaggit counsler has already called him and told him that i was kicked out of the program, i still don't know all the fucking details, but have a dr.apt monday at 2:45 with my dr, to try and maybe get into the evening classes, because id really like to be able to get a job and work during the days. Got a veryyyy imporntant email today from a supervisor that works at one of the local coal mines, so would really like to get a chance and talk with him asap, will ask the libary if i can use their phone to call my ride or make something up to be able to use the phone, sucks not having a phone. best way to contact me is thru my email, or facebook, which i only check that shit once a day,whcih maybe for the best because i was spending like all day on the shit when i was on methadone because i didn't give a fuck.
will let my blog readers know what goes on later tonite and if i am still around tommorow.

a continuation...



The arms trade in Smugglers Bazaar, in Peshawar, Pakistan, is actually supplied by a non-descript village in an adjoining province. The village, Del Adem Khan, is populated by a clan, the Adem Khel, members of a Pashto (Pashtun aka Pathan aka etc. and so forth), the Afridi. For many centuries the Adem Khel have made custom weapons manufacturing their bread and butter. One need only bring with them a simple illustration from a magazine or book and the gunsmiths of the Adem Khel will furnish a one off in perfect working order, from single shot 22 caliber pen and umbrellaguns on up to 90 caliber recoiless rifles.

The custom arms trade centered in the Philippine municipality of Danao on Cebu Island, in contrast, has a far less storied history. Dating only to WWII and the USAFE-led guerilla campaign against the brutal Japanese Occupation, the trade-while held tightly within tge grips of a few concentrated families, is neither as jealously guarded, nor creatively undertaken as its Pakistani counterpart in Dhel Adem Khel. The most one can reasonably hope to acquire is a spiffy AR15, or more rarely, a 60MM mortar setup with requisite shells.

On Mindanao Muslim insurgents build exotic animals like RPG3s and.50 caliber sniper rifles, thpugh both are merely good for a few rounds before endangering operators and anyone. within the critical radius...the opetative point here being, north of Mindanao the most one may personally use, for self protection, are handguns. Being a foreigner, I rarely trouble myself with carrying north of Cebu Island. Dont get me wrong, Luzon-especially Metro Manila-has endemic violence. However, it is of a much more random nature and more often than not, environmentally related than that which one faces in Mindanao. Therefore, watch your "ps & qs" and one should really run less of a risk than one might face in any urban American neighbourhood.

So it was that I found myself on that New Years Eve busride out of Manila without any meaningful self protection as I made my way 2 hours north to the capital of Southeast Asian vice, Angeles City. Joysa's Aunt Gemma lives Malabacat, a suburb of Angeles proper. So, to simplify my trip, Joysa and I planned to meet in the Angeles Bus Terminal. Perhaps the only thing worse than being in Angeles, is travelling to Angeles. The erstwhile.pimps, often brothers-and even fathers of semi-professional prostitutes begin bugging you even before you take your seat. Virtually every Philippine bus plays bootleg DVDs to distract passengers from the noxious fumes, shockless carriage, and mind numbing trafficjams. As I watched a poorly manufactured copy of "Honey, I Shrunk the Kids," a hopeful bloke.in his laye 20s began foisting off photos of his scantily clad wife ("Sir Joe, this is Princess Diana Integrityanne, she is my wife but we are very poor. Perhaps we may help each other?" tge name "Joe" being applied to all white men).

Despite the lackluster entertainment, I managed to arrive in Angeles just after 7PM. I was glad to see Joysa waiting for me as I stepped into the hustle, bustle, and din of the Angeles Bus Terminal. Even close hugging is not often seen in public in the Philippines. Nevertheless, Joysa nearly jumped into my arms as she showed me how deeply she had missd me. Of coyrse this merely served to make me feel even MORE guilty than I already did...and damn, I felt mad guilty.

Finding the right Jeepney, we climbed aboard, paid our fares, and off we went to Aunt Gemmas and my extremely intetesting New Years Eve...

To be continued...

I used to work in a busy hospital. For 8 years, to be exact. I've seen some crazy shit, especially since I worked the ER. I wasn't a nurse or anything, just support staff, but support staff are the eyes and ears of a hospital. Anyways, I have some surgery coming up and I'm really nervous about it. I have an awesome anesthesiologist and a great surgeon that I hand-picked, but I'm still scared shitless. I've never been put completely under before. The most I've had with anesthesia was conscious sedation (fentanyl+midazolam+nitrous) for wisdom teeth. I'm worried about all of this because I'm worried about the meds that I'm prescribed interacting with the anesthetic, especially my bupe. I'm afraid the bupe is going to have a major interaction with the Diprivan that they're going to likely use. I know that anesthesiologists are experts and take this all into consideration, but still, I also worry about under-sedation and waking up under the knife. The surgery's recovery is apparently a bit on the painful side, or so I'm told. I'd rather not talk about what the surgery for. I'm also worried about my recovery, especially if I'm prescribed a narcotic for the postoperative pain. My addictions doc said tramadol or low-dose Nucynta would be allowable, but even then, I just don't want to come close to risking losing everything I've gained in recovery. I know it sounds paranoid to think like that, but recovery is incredibly important to me (as I'm sure everyone can tell ) .

Anyone that's had surgery, can you tell me what it's like to go through it? I've seen the procedures done to people a bunch of times working at the hospital, but I've never actually experienced them. I guess it's kinda ironic that someone who worked in a hospital would be nervous as hell about surgery .

The idea of a career has never appealed to me. It kind of puts off the whole 'be all you can be' imo. I mean how many people do you see after they get there masters in jerking off do u see continuing to educate themselves in different subjects? I could only name 2 or 3 at best that I've personally met in my lifetime. Instead they choose to isolate themselves into one subject, go knee deep into it and think they've already worked towards an abundance of knowledge. This idealogy leaving most useless when confronted by a situation outside of their profession. Minds abit mumbled, ill try to clarify later--

ANYWAY

I planned on getting into pharmacology/pharmacy but I'm now a bit hesitant due to how easy a medical license can be suspended or even revoked here in california. Drug charges in particular, I being a "drug seeker" fear that one day ill get caught up and that pathway would be burned.It won't stop me from educating myself in the subjects but I wouldn't aim for those particular careers anymore.

So I've always had a large interest in physiology/anatomy. I enjoy working with sciences, however am pretty bad with mathematics but I'm determined in doing whatever it takes to get to the 'goal'. Anyway id love to have a job involving that said above, I'm a bit curious about veterinarians, coroners actually. I dunno.

update: [ethno]botany seems interesting.

Smile pretty for the camera as God rips parts of your soul out. Good times, right?

Borrowed title.

Earlier in the week:

10/15

Inomniatic expression of time utilization with the help of the cannabinoid and dissociative class of medicines in the subjects personal repertory. A consistant plus one feeling of peace and contemplative come surorunds the sens throughout the day, brief nap was excercised from midday to midafternoon. Hopelessly stoned, creatively useful, excessively social and talkitive. Clear and concise. I should feel as such each day and make it my duty now to do so come hell or heaven below us.




A definitive accute philosophical and emotionally medicinal and pleasant afterglow of the mind of wakeful dreaming. The mind and the body are on the same team and getting SERIOUS. Brain areas in gilded cooperation in hopes of fueling a mechanical and shingingly bright imagination full of ideas and past insights, from both others and myself. A brilliant day, 3:30 PM

10/16 Wednesday 6:03

Awoke abruptly at 5om. Sprung up with vigorous resolve and an umbridled intent; to put it country simple, wired, determined and hopelessy bored. Must flee.


[url]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/asxwexfall/2012-05-16063131.jpg[/url][img]

Check transactions and postal statuses on the "inter-web" archives of current information and leave. I have little gas in the vehicle, yet ten hours to chew through before work and serious responsibility strips me of my leisure (or is it real work?, keep an eye on that) so fuck gas.

I've enough cash for a quick breakfast, showering before hand and briefly dressing, dorning a colorful set of garb picked out wantonly as the electricity in my nerves moved my actions toward complete resolution.

I'm in a bagel shop writing feverishly and simultaneously reading the N.Y. times, as I like to torture my self a little bit in the morning to ready me for the agony of the day. Also for balance I have a copy of an informational book on the I ching, but I'm in no mood for reading. I'm sitting here wondering on how I can go about wasting this morning without involving sleep, apathy, cheap excuses and the like. I'll postulate a few essay questions I've been meaning to have a go at:'

1) How does one short-circuit control? Leaving this one vague for fun.

2) Okay. So you've been born into this endless, meagical universe. It's yours, because your reality is the only true thing you'll ever know, regardless of who shares it with you and at what time period. What do you intend to do with it?

This is just another valid question I'm asking for the sake of it. Why isn't the library open 24 hours? Seven Eleven is and I think that says a lot about the state of intellectualism in this country. Cut cops salaries and hire librarians around the clock. I NEED that place in the 5-9 hours, not the adverse. CHECK INTO THIS IT MAY BE IMPORTANT.

Oh how ye loathe writing upright confined to a stationary vehicle, but get used to it, Jim. Although retreating to the warm and weatherless sanctuary of the car is enticing and useful, tough titty on the writing situation. Plenty of times to record information and you can't be worried about finding a desk and a fucking chair, not until you can afford the proper voice recording device. Stay on task. Right. Besides, Analog and Digital skills are both damned requirements in this trade, so learn to hack it good on both ends. The polarity is impeccable. Can't be in the amazon with a snootfull of plant extract and a bare-assed Indian beside my worrying about service for my "galaxy note." I don't own one by the way, and that's beside the point. Point is I'm writing this with my hands, and will transcribe and edit simultaneously once back at the house, at least until the damn library opens and I can find some peace there to reflect and finish that damn paper and some books. God where've we traversed, fucking ad libbing bullshit. I'll continue.

[img]http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v614/asxwexfall/2012-05-16063131.jpg

Finished off a coffee - too manic to remain stationary on a mean, cloudless bog of a day. It feels like New Orleans after the last day of Monsoon Season, horrible fog. Drove down to a dead end peer to see the atlantic view point, some finely tuned music, silent introspection, and perhaps even a touch of inpersational direction. It rains heavily from time to time and I can't see 3 feet in front of my eyes but I've got time - one can manage to get quite a bit accomplished in the 9-5 hours. I'm sure you've also noticed the antomity in that statement, I'll elaborate with my usually precise logic as best as I can.

Once the insects awake and start unulating and consuming around and about in the town in a great swarm of low IQ's and fat pocket-books I'll probably need some kind of impressively powerful drug to deal with it. Extremely potent, high grade Cannabis Indica would certainly do the trick, or the speed; but I'm saving that for a different breed of stormy day that doesn't inherently or necessarilly refer to any kind of weather experience.

"I heard a woman on the radio tell me they were going to have a rain event, I jumped up and shouted "HOT SHIT I BETTER GET TICKETS TO THAT!"

Yes, uncle George comes to mind, and right he is.



Likely I'll go the day sober and why indeed not? Might serve useful and I'm in a positively determined and focused mood. Diet change, smoking and alcohol cessation, benzo drop to 1mg, occasional use of cannabis and dissociatives. Methoxetamine has been a huge spiritual help, and dextromethorphan in any dose helps with cognition and tolerance. Eating regularly and healthy too. Stretching and yoga come next. Climb the latter, on this rotten day sobriety may serve useful.

The rain has died down a bit and I think I'll venture a peak. Everything has an opalescent gray to it, though looking through tinted living glass. Everything moves, the space is visible to remind us of interconnectivity and oneness, but enough of that shit. Off to take a gander at the ocean I fully intend to return myself to the earth with.

Not any time soon mind you, just once the organism (package of flesh tended and bones my consciousness drags around looking for fun) loses vitality or/and existence is functionally useless for me. Self-whacking anasethetic doses of widely available arylcyloheylamines and drowning talk, what a deserprately grim entry that would prove, and a deadly tangent to wander into so I'll stop it at the line. Let it be known that I hate puns with vociferous, passionatetly psychotic vigor, as I'm sure you good, clean honest Americans do, and the phonetic anomaly was nothing more than a coincidence. Caio for now.

Nothing out there but dampness and sea gulls, and any bird dumb enough to hanging onto a pier on a day like this should have his mammalian head examined. Bird psychiatry, now theres a thought. Mental note. Fuck all that for now, time for a fast drive to a location unbeknownst at this time, maybe I'll regroup and get this into print, editing in an installment later. But I'll end on that note as Lenny Bruce once did, quoting "I never met a dyke, I didn't like."

-Sala Y.B.

An Addendum:

First Conversation of the Day.

(7:36:40 AM) Thou: You're probably not awake, but good morning
(7:36:41 AM) S(7:39:30 AM) Sarah: Buenos dias
(7:39:49 AM) Thou: aloh bella seniorita!
(7:40:01 AM) Thou: We could have used a translator in the tattoo shop yesterday lol
(7:40:09 AM) Thou: I've been writing since 5 am.
(7:40:12 AM) S: Soulmate energies and issues are waking me.
(7:40:37 AM) S: Lol, lo siento. Ahorita, no puedo traducir mucho
(7:41:16 AM) S: Estoy cansada (tired) quiero dormir (i wanna sleep )
(7:43:24 AM) Thou: I have know idea what you just said, but it's cheered me up immensely.
(7:43:38 AM) Thou: I was insomniatic the other day, helps me creatively. Now I'm just stoned.
(7:44:00 AM) Thou: Still from last night, it's pleasant and better at producing clear thoughts and ambition than adderall.
(7:45:07 AM) Thou: Did my soul awake you? I'm sorry.

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into the words again
they have no place to go and im stuck like a sinking ship on dooms day, waving my chained arms at passer by mall walkers. little room for error, the margin has closed in tight.

once when i was a kid, i fell down the side of a mountain. a twist of thornage had raveled itself around my hand and pulled tight, leaving me hanging there like some cat on an electric wire. alone for the secluded meanderings i dangled with no words, no thoughts, or time. everything silent as the morning of snow. the leaves rustled by my feet had no answer and without worry i just sat there staring at the hand that had brought a spoonful of fruitloops to my mouth that morning.
it's hard to say what traveled interstate brainwaves right then. it's hard to say that in that moment i knew who i was without really thinking about it. that defining moment where life met mind and i could see purple flying poems blooming into brilliant branches of life occasions. all yellowed from the sun with dimples of happy greens and blues. dark shadows rendering spots of illumination into points of reference. the shadows are always entirely purposeful.
the silvery slit of a scar runs diagonally across the top of my left hand and fades when it gets to the meatier sides of the palm. a fragmented line and im all sours. a fragmented line and im back in the woods, dangling from forever.

I know, I know - its been AGES since I was on BL

My life had been spiralling out of control

It really admittedly started going downhill again when my relationship with Keira (Sweet P - btw. man I cringe when I see people call her 'P' because if theres one thing that I don't like thinking of Keira as it's that evil drug!) went to shit

At the time, I blamed Keira and Keira blamed me - each of us thought the other was 'the worst addict', 'the most hateful', 'the least mature', etc

So when I hit a sort-of 'second' rock bottom I didn't even realise it
However, I was behaving rather obnoxiously on TDS - no one but me could be right - and my BPD-type symptoms (which have almost vanished now, and I barely recognise in Keira either now) became worse and worse!
DW had become 'drugged witch'!

When I left BL, I thought it was just because I no longer was liked by anyone here - to be fair a lot of people who didnt know me did join and no, how could they know that I used to give 100% of my time to helping others fairly unselfishly when towards the end of my time at BL I was just making trouble, so I can see why people decided I might be a fun wind-up

However, through a lot of prayer and reflection I realised meth was not who I wanted to die being known as

Amazingly enough, around the time I decided I was going to bloody well give up (after a 3 month stint in remand due to meth possession - and getting back to a 3g a day IV habit....here we go again...) I found an email in my box that made my ticker go crazy (and I was SOBER!)
Yes, it was from Keira.

Keira didn't ask to go out with me again, just to see how I was. She didn't need to ask twice - I'd missed her like crazy...Keira is the one person I can talk about anything and feel comfortable with.

Slowly, as was inevitable, our relationship went from a 'weakly promised platonic' to the most romantic and cherished relationship I have ever had (much better than our so-called 'being in love while on P'...an impossible feat when you're an addict!)

Tonight is my last night using P...with Keira.
Many will be of the opinion that we are playing with fire but we feel this is the best way to get closure on that once ruined, poisoned relationship, and on the spoilt lives of two women who have now seen love and life through clear glasses.
We have both deleted our contacts from each other's phones...which was cathartic but brought me to tears a bit!

Tomorrow I have a new address - I'm moving out to Waitakere. No one will know where I live - except genuine friends!

Just remember - to all those who have tried and tried to give up methamphetamine:
It feels impossible until you know with all your heart and soul that when you invite meth into your body, you invite a demon into your soul...to cleanse a demonised soul, all one must do is break their old lives apart, and pick up the pieces worth keeping

Now that Keira and I have each other for support, we know, while there is no pretense that hard times will be ahead, we have done so well and got so far....and two against one (especially when I know God is on our side) usually win out

I'M CONFIDENT THAT THIS IS THE END OF LIFE...ON METH! %)

I'm a 22-year old male. I haven't been in a relationship with a woman for about 2 years now. Because of my character, personality, and attitude, this is unbearable...

I'm a good listener so I know a lot about people's private things, I can make them talk about their view on a variety of things. And thus I know a lot of people aged 20+ don't treat their relationships seriously, in some cases it's more of a habit than a true feeling, in other cases it's a showpiece so they're not treated as people who can't pick up a girl/guy.

It's really hard to find a woman who is both intelligent and beautiful. I have quite a few complexes, this is due to my health condition. These are my disadvantages as a potential partner. Who would like to be in a relationship with someone whose health condition is that bad?

I suffer from hypothyroidism, thus have to take levothyroxine until the last time of my life. Also this disease causes tendency for depressive episodes and unpleasant physical symptoms like feeling cold.

I suffer from pituitary/tertiary adrenal insufficiency, thus will have to take hydrocortisone lifelong and not only as pills but also need a prepared shot in case cortisol level drops drastically and I am unfit for anything. Also this causes tendency for nervousness, anxiety, tiredness, and physical symptoms like cumulating fat in the region of head and neck (or even goitre). Although I'm skinny, I'm very afraid of it because one doesn't look nice after this happens.

I'm addicted to methadone. I can't taper down and I've been on it for at least 1.5 years straight. I need split-dosing. I know marihuana helped me a lot when I was in England. I could totally skip the second dose almost every day, I also tapered down my morning dose to only 10mg (I didn't smoke daily). Now back in Poland I had to increase my dose up to 25mg because I couldn't go out at 10mg in the morning. I study so there's no way I can shut myself at home.

I'm addicted to clonazepam. I started tapering down on February 6, 2012 from 6mg, right now I'm at 1.5mg - generally - but lately I have been taking more methadone and clonazepam for caffeine crashes (I don't have prescriptions for hydrocortisone yet as I have to wait for a visit in the medical centre - I need something to charge me up as I have a very busy time at my university, lots of exams; I quit being an active chemist so I don't even have access to pure ephedrine or anything speeding up not only body but also mind). I know I will need something sedating and anxiolytic but not causing physical dependence - again at least 75% Cannabis sativa indica breeds seem the best.

I've got acne problems recently. I feel like a damned teenage nightmare came back again. I don't know what happened, it may be antibiotics I took last year but does it matter now? I always had problems with skin and I used special gels etc. for washing skin and keeping hygiene. I used to have all my back in pimples (I've got a lot of scars now), so maybe something acted like pulling the trigger. My cheeks look very strange, I've never had such spots, not that they're big or have a lot of pus in them, rather they're very shallow, just under my skin and they're kind of flat. I went to a dermatologist and I got some herbal pills I was sceptical about at the beginning but my face looks much better since I started taking them. She also wanted to do something about those scars on my back so she prescribed me a retinoid derivative, she seems to know what she's doing as she told me to dilute it before applying and she told me to use only once a week (I read a lot of negative opinions about side effects after daily application of the medicine on face, people got much more pimples than they had). I'm trying to think positively here because my skin used to give me a lot of complexes and I wasn't bold enough to act decidedly towards some girls in the past because I was afraid they would ignore me just because of my skin.

I also received bad results from complex blood and urine tests. There's a quite high level of bilirubin (3 mg/dl), it looks like jaundice but skin and eyes negate it, and low level of CRP suggests there is no inflammatory condition. Anyway I'm going to do anti-HCV tests (it's impossible I got this shit during my i.v. drug use, I always cared about injection hygiene, besides I had tests for HIV and HCV done not long before I quit using needles, so it'd be truly a curse if God let that happen ;( ). High levels of bilirubin may be a result of how little I eat, no idea.

But if I caught HCV somewhere, there is no reason for me to live any more. I would never put anyone in danger. There would be no possibility to be with a woman in a deep relationship. Being an HCV carrier, I won't be able to fully fulfil man's commitment coming from being in a serious relationship. There's no chance I could have any intimate life and women do feel the need to make love. Moreover, this also means I will never be able to be a biological father and when 2 people are in a relationship, and they want to have a child, I know how important for a woman it is to have a child of her partner.

How I hate this loneliness. You can't even imagine. If I could only feel I'm needed... If I could only plunge my nose into woman's long thick hair, smell it... If I could kiss her neck, if I could look deeply in her eyes seeing she has a strong feeling for me as I do for her. I so want to face this world with someone and not be alone any more!

Otherwise, nothing makes sense.

I have a little card I carry around with me in my wallet everywhere. It's from this collective of people who were publishing fantastic manuals and zines and resources... they also sell books. here is the link: CrimethInc.com...

Here is what the card says:

you must always be high. everything depends on it; it is the only question. so as not to feel the horrible burden of Time wrecking your back and bending you to the ground, you must get high without respite. but on what? on life, on poetry, or on virtue whatever you like, but get high. and if sometimes you wake up, on palace stepson the green grass of a ditch, in your room's gloomy solitude, your intoxication already waning or gone, ask the wind, the waves, the stars, the birds, clocks, ask everything that flees, everything that moans, everything that moves, everything that sings, everything that speaks, ask what time it is. and the wind, the waves, the stars, the birds, clocks, will answer, "It is time to get high! so as not to be the martyred slaves of Time, get high; get high constantly! on life, on poetry, or on virtue, as you wish."

All totalitarian regimes employ heavy restrictions on sex and sexual freedoms to enforce violent and oppressive standards. Sexually free and expressive persons rarely march off to war, behave according to predictable consumption patterns, or accept subjugation without critical thought. Traditional monogamy is insidiously forced upon people in the West through mass media as well as law. Its killing you. Its destroying your ability to think freely and independently. It makes you a valuable, predictable, and easily controlled asset. Sexual independence is a fundamental key to personal liberty.

I've returned to BL after a hiatus of a few years. In that time, I've managed to get clean and sober (almost 2 years now!). Things have really changed around BL, there's a lot of new people I don't remember from before, and it seems as though all the old familiar regulars have gone. Maybe that's for the better, since I'm here to turn over a new leaf.

When I first started on BL, I was extremely passionate about pharmaceuticals. Initially, I was a recreational user, but as with all drug habits, things slid quickly. I soon developed a fierce IV oxy habit and hit rock bottom really hard. I managed to pull myself up from rock bottom and got clean. However, the road to getting clean was chaotic, to say the least.

October 16, 2010 was the last day I used. I recall going on a major oxy and coke binge. The morning after, I really was not doing well. My mood was all over the place (I guess you could describe it as a bad mixed bipolar episode). I became acutely suicidal, and called 911. Since I was living in a university residence home at the time, I got out of the house quickly, because I didn't want the police and the paramedics showing up at the house and freaking out the other residents, who were mostly sheltered rich kids. I had the police meet me on a corner down the street. After being taken to the hospital, things were a major roller-coaster. I remember going from sobbing to one of the psych RN's and then when I was left alone, trying to hang myself in the ER. I was then put in a seclusion room, where I went acutely psychotic. When I was rushed to this room after hanging myself, I proceeded to use the gurney as a battering ram to smash on the locked door. When RNs and security arrived, I managed to grab a short IV pole on the gurney and wield it like a club. Thankfully, one of the RNs talked me down. I was then four-pointed, and in the process of this happening, I spat in the face of a male nurse who I thought was giving me attitude. I was promptly injected with Clopixol Accuphase and Ativan. My psychiatrist happened to be on call, and needless to say, he was furious.

After being brought up to the South Psychiatric Ward, I experienced horrible EPS from the Clopixol and was fatigued and drowsy from the med cocktail that was given to me to detox from the oxys (25 mg of Librium q.i.d. and 0.2 mg of Clonidine t.i.d.). I was also on my usual psych med cocktail (6 mg Invega qam, 100 mg modafinil qam, 200 mg Tegretol qam, 400 mg hs, 100 mg Lamictal hs, 1 mg Rivotril/Klonopin qam and 2 mg hs and 10 mg sublingual zolpidem prn hs) plus 2 mg Ativan as a prn (only when I was in the hospital).

Now, at the hospital where I was staying, there are 3 psychiatric units: North, South and PICU. As a rule, you want to be on North, as the staff are better and the patients are a lot better. The PICU is the Psychiatric Intensive Care Unit- basically the lockup for the most profoundly ill patients. I was given a "Form 3", which means an involuntary admission to care.

I was soon transferred to North, and over the next few days, I was detoxed and given privileges. I hung around with some interesting people and avoided the really unstable ones (I've been "on the ward" before, so I knew exactly what to do and who to avoid). I have a number of stories about just how surreal it is on the ward, but I'll tell those at a later date.

After my detox completed, I was approached by a hospitalist that also specialized in addiction medicine and ran an addictions clinic across the street from the hospital. I quickly came to the conclusion that I needed to go on a treatment program, be it bupe or MMT. The doctor wanted me to go on MMT, but my psychiatrist and my GP had advised that I go on bupe. I began bupe therapy and things started to improve dramatically. I was soon discharged from the hospital, only to find that the locks on the doors of my place had been changed. I managed to find living arrangements and have been living the sober life ever since. I've been to various outpatient treatment programs, and a psychologist that specializes in addiction but I've yet to go to NA. My addictions doc, my shrink and my psychologist all said that NA just stands for Narcotics Available. I think that they're all biased, but I've been doing really well. I have stories about my experiences on bupe, but again, I'll save those for another time.

I managed to finish my first Master's degree and I'm going to be starting a second one in September. I'm going for a Master's in Social Work with a specialization in Mental Health and Addictions. I want to work with people that are going through mental health and addiction issues, because I've been there myself, so I know what it's like.

I know that this entry was major tl;dr material, but I was just recapping my escape from rock bottom and how I began living the sober life.

Just a few minutes ago I told my mother I've tried crack and done heroin. She wasn't angry but she just couldn't believe I tried it. I don't know why I told her but I felt as if I had to and now a weights been lifted off my shoulder. At least I can now talk to her and maybe feel somewhat better. Maybe, she can help me along this crazy journey I'm on. I want to remember a life without drugs but its so hard to do. She tells me though that if I use and die from heroin my boyfriend's death will be another death in vain. Its true but I really don't know what to do anymore.

5-HTP can be very beneficial sometimes (e.g. on MDMA comedowns). It's a direct precursor to serotonin (5-HT) and increases the production of serotonin in the brain.

This happened quite a while ago, and I didn't use any medication that affects serotonin then.

I bought 100 mg 5-HTP pills because I was tired of using AD's and wanted to give 5-HTP a try.

The instructions on the bag was to take one pill before sleep. So I did that. Sleep was great, 5-HTP makes you quite drowsy and sedated. The first two days I felt great, there was a definite moodlift. But on the third day I got a light serotonin syndrome. I got severe diarrhea, nausea, vomited profusely, got heart arrhytmias and developed a slight fever. 100 mg was far too much for me. Fortunately the symptoms were quite light when taken into account that serotonin syndrome can be very dangerous and even fatal. I can't imagine people taking 100 mg every day for prolonged periods.

Also, taking 5-HTP on SSRI withdrawal is one of the worst things you can do. It makes withdrawal much, much worse. Anxiety, nervousness and nausea is increased dramatically. This also seems to be the experience of most others taking it while on SSRI withdrawal. You would logically think that raising your serotonin levels (as they almost always are low when quitting SSRI's) would help, but it has the opposite effect. Why that is the case I don't know.

5-HTP is marketed as this natural antidepressant that supposedly has few to no side effects. Too many are fooled by this and get various negative reactions by taking it. If you do decide to take it, start low (25 mg) and see how you react. Avoid using it for prolonged periods.

Generally I think it's very unwise to alter your neurotransmitter levels much. I've found Tyrosine to be great after taking stimulants, but in those cases my dopamine levels have been very low, hence the benefit.

Feeling right back pain... I know this pain... But I really hope I'm wrong.

I think my right lung might have collapsed....

Hey, I've never blogged before. I don't even know really how to. Anyway I just want to give a shout out to all the people out there. snip

It would be a major understatement to say that Ive been miserable as fuck for the most part the past few months. I swore that when i hit 30 i would try and lead a less fucked up life and maybe even settle down abit. But it seems that my goddamn fucked up brain had other plans. I got hit with a depressive episode that was the worst Ive had in years. For the first time in ages the thought of suicide seriously crossed my mind. But i am determined to not give into that no matter how bad things get.

The really bad flare up's of trigeminal neuralgia have not been helping my mood or opiate use either as of late. I have had to take enough morphine and hydromorphone to get about 10 people high just to stop me from nearly crying from the pain. Well truth be told i did actually cry from the pain. I feel so alone when i have to go through shit like this. Noone who can do anything about it gives a shit. As far as the doctors are concerned I'm just another cunt taking up money from the health care system. Go home and suffer until you finally kill yourself is what they want. But i won't give in that easy.

I did give up the needle for awile but because of the fact that sometimes i have to get by with hydromorphone avoiding it is hard. Plus everything seems so hopeless lately that i think why should i give it up? So what if I'm a junkie who cares. My biggest worry is how to get through everyday and if it takes a few shots of morphine or dilaudid to get me through a long dark night then so be it.

I actually thought that this year i might catch a break. I should have known that it would just be more of the same old shit.

I've been away for a month or so, as I've been very busy with life. I just moved out of the halfway house, since my 90 days was up. I've since been searching for places and I found the absolute perfect place! I'm moving in in two days!

I have been doing well, I must say! I did have a MINOR relapse (I would actually call it a "slip").
I bought about half a gram and used it all in one day. It was not worth it. I learned very quickly that dope is just not worth it.

I felt gross as I did the typical meet up with my dealer. My stomach was in knots and I began to panic. I had no where to shoot up. I'm currently couch surfing and didn't want to shoot up in a friend's bathroom. I chose a coffee shop with a large, single bathroom, in uptown. I snuck in through the back, as to avoid paying for a cup of coffee. I took off my back pack, unloaded my gear, and started feeling those old feelings I'd always get, pre-shot. I started to wonder who would find me if I overdosed. I pictured an angry employee knocking for minutes until finally opening the bathroom door with a master key. I pictured the employee's face as she saw me, blue in the face, belt on the ground, next to a bloody syringe that had been dropped from my numb, lifeless hand.

As soon as I got done playing this scenario in my head, I rolled up my sleeve, found the perfect vein, immediately gasped when the crimson bloom formed, and let out a loud sigh as soon as I finished the shot. I closed my eyes and stood up. I looked in the mirror and then packed up my gear. I started to move towards the door, then came to a complete stop. I needed another shot. I wasnt even as high as I should have been. I attribute this to the Suboxone that I had taken about thirty hours prior..or the fact that this dope was NOT as good as it was when I was hooked. I went through the same routine as stated above, and then finally made my way out of the restroom, to find a mad customer who, apparently, had been "knocking for like, five fucking minutes". I never heard a knock.

Heroin just didn't do me right, this time. I have been clean since..and that was the first relapse I've had since quitting heroin. I'm still proud of myself. It would be foolish to claim that I will "NEVER" have a slip/relapse again. The harsh reality is that I am an addict. I am a heroin addict and I am not ashamed of it. I'm making some wonderful improvements in my life, and I really do NOT have time to sit around and get high. I'm about to live with an amazing 30-something year old mother that opened her house to me for the CHEAP as FUCK price of $200/month, because I agreed to babysit her children two days a week, an do some cleaning tasks. I am looking forward to all the great things that will come out of this next adventure I will start in two days! Wish me luck

I was raised atheist, the first time and only times I set foot in a church was/is for funerals.

But life is a miracle, I feel like there has to be more to it than numbers and data ,AKA science.
I feel like science can translate the miracle of life into something more universal: like numbers, data, codes, formulas, theories.

But that there HAS to be more to it, Look outside right now. Maybe its too dark depending on where you are, but for me I see the sunset, and clouds in a mostly blue/orange/purple sky,
and looking up at the sky, I cannot help but feel that there HAS to be more to life.

I highly doubt "God" created us in his image
how the hell could he have come up with other forms of life like animals and plants
Like, a deer for example, how did he figure out what he wanted a deer to be?
How did he designs humans so "perfect"? If he created us in his image, he should have known the consequences.

So I feel like god is not human, it is superhuman.
And I don't mean like a superhero, which is, again, underneath all the glory, merely a human.
Everything and everyone is immortal, plants and animals both, so how could "God" be immortal.

Some people believe in fate, or predestination, that your whole life is planned by god before you are even born, but I disagree.

However, I do think that there is SOMETHING out there, some force, that affects what happens to us both good and bad, kind of like Karma.

Thoughts?

Well, tonight the full moon was out -- a supermoon, in fact -- up in the sky behind wispy threads of fog. The smell of marijuana was in the air and a block party brought Decatur Avenue alive. The sounds of Spanish music and people cheering each other on to take another shot of tequila flooded my brain with about as much stimulus as my fragile brain could take. I had eaten half a blue Oxycodone pill just a half hour earlier, inside of the bathroom of a deli owned by Islamic Indians. Five times a day, the owners of the deli use that bathroom to pray in as well, because it is the room that faces Mecca. There was a ceiling panel missing and I felt something drip on my head. As I was leaving the bathroom, I pushed open the second door, hitting some idiot teenagers that were running around and making a complete mess. I left the store and caught up with my girlfriend, my connect and his girlfriend. My connect's girlfriend was gracious enough to give myself and my girlfriend ride to the train station as I wasn't feeling too good from starting out the day in minor opioid withdrawal and didn't want to make the long walk back. I started to feel better and got on the train. The ticket taker came and punch our tickets. This particular ticket taker is one of my favorites. We always seem to catch her. She's a short, fat black woman with fantastic hair and a loud voice and just an overall "big" presence. If this woman tells you to do something, you do it. But you do it because you don't want to make her mad AND because you respect her.

After we got off the train, I asked my girlfriend if we could go to 7-11. A couple of days ago, I spilled my Mountain Dew Slurpee all over the parking lot. My girlfriend told me to go inside and ask for another one but I told her I wasn't a 5 year old who dropped my ice cream cone and cried about it. Although, I did feel like a 5 year old who dropped their ice cream cone. I just didn't want to admit it and be wrong. Today, I made it without dropping my Slurpee. Frozen Coke if you're wondering. I know some people don't like it at all, but I really do. I like frozen Mountain Dew also, but not as much. I wish they made a Frozen Sprite and a Frozen Root Beer. We bought a stick of beef jerky to give to the dogs and some Peanut Butter and Chocolate Bugles for my brother. I only got 1 of them, but I thought it was pretty good. One of those sweet and salty type snacks. I guess you have to be in the mood for it.

I've been applying to jobs like crazy all day. I can't seem to get any interviews. This is my karma for not going to a lot of the interviews I've had. I'm thinking of doing some sort of side business where I sell water and snacks at the park near us over the summer. If I can get a Costco day pass, I can probably get everything I need to make some money. I just need enough for rent. I've got to take matters into my own hands if I'm going to be so reckless with money because of my addictions.

Me and my girlfriend took our dogs out for a walk. I ran my Westie up and down a set of stairs that belong to my old elementary school. God, what a world away attending elementary school is. It's almost mind blowing how different the world and my life have turned out between 1991-1997 and now.

I ran around quite a bit and I found that it does in fact potentiate opioids like an awesome member of DC said it does.

I'm waiting for my MXE and Phenazepam. Hopefully these drugs will keep me occupied until I can find a job and get more opiates. Or in between Percocet refills. I need to buy a small scale and some Rolaids. I want to take my dogs to the dog park tomorrow and possibly get down to PetCo.

I was supposed to go to an NA meeting today but I convinced myself not to and also to get drugs. I'm so pathetic.

I think I am going to do it. I am going to talk about my addictions in therapy. I wonder if he can tell I have substance abuse issues... I mean he's probably been around it quite a bit. We'll see I guess. I am not 100% sure I am going to tell him about the Roxi, Opana, heroin and cocaine. I might just say I'm an alcoholic. Same difference, right? Well, except for the illegal aspect. I'll say I am an alcoholic stoner. That should be close enough.

I am covered in mosquito bites.

I want another Roxicodone but I asked my girlfriend to hold them so I don't use them all in one night like I did last time... I always prove her right when it comes to my drug use

Essentially, if I had some money, I'd be fine. I think. I'd just have a drug problem, not a money problem. I've never overdosed and my health is fine except for a few issues that can be easily fixed. I am starting to nod, my eyes are crossing and I can barely make out what I am typing... the only way I know I misspell something is if the red squiggly lines appear under a word. When I was like 8, I thought the red squiggly lines would print out with my work so I tried to make them ago away haha. Too bad I didn't realize it was spellcheck and I had some misspelled words. Embarrassing!

Anyway, I doubt anyone read this far so BANANA HAMMOCK!

...


It feels good to be so tuned in.

Now to move onwards and upwards.

This has been a long time coming:

London Elektricity - Life Is Beautiful