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"Actually, please disregard my request for you to forgive me.

By asking you to do that, I am shifting the responsibility of forgiveness from myself onto you, and even if you do declare sincerely that you have forgiven me, I may by that time have forgotten the necessity of forgiving myself and moved on without having addressed the issue in a positive manner. On the same note, I now understand why you sometimes asked me why I was obsessively confessing to you of all my addiction screw-ups: I realize now, it seems I was abusing your acceptance of me, meanwhile forgetting that these problems will never resolve until I do the acceptance myself first, thereby. That is not to say that your acceptance is harmful, but rather that I was doing something wrong in principal - that is to rely on othes' kindness to justify my cruelty toward myself (which inevitably backfires to see me hurting those whose kindness I have abused).

...

If you don't mind, I would actually value your opinion or criticism of this conclusion. It is presented to me as a moment of clarity, however I believe that doubting one's sanity every once in a while seems to be healthy practice . I ask this because you of all the people in my life seem to have the most insight regarding projection and shifting responsibility. No pressure to do so if you don't feel like it, though.

I really do hope I see both you and Victoria soon..."

----


And if anyone on here has input, I will appreciate it as well . I think it is important to bounce new revelations on others to avoid the error of assuming a revelation is infallible simply because it was a revelation.

As it stands, this seems to be a way to positively work on the damage I have done to myself so that I can become recreated as a better me.

Today's the first time I don't think i cried so much. keeping my mind occupied helped. an old old friend has a whopping issue. bigger than this town could handle. i sure hope things turn out ok.
as for you....at least you aren't rotting. I hope you're in something pretty or something you liked or made.
tears come now...i hear worse stories in the world than ours. it doesn't take away or lessen the pain I feel.
please help me if you can. you know i have tons of love for the proper woman...you'd want me to continue, i know. i am trying to continue. i never thought it would be without you.

Wizzened old woman.
Time shining on withered ovaries.
There is nothing left for you.
The world seems evil and you are the rusty cog in it.
Leaking from you is anything you had, your too patchy to keep it in now.
You will be used like you've always been, and you will feel it in every bone of your body.
You cant run away forever, now your too slow.
Say a prayer until the next time I show.

bby, i had to fight back tears a little less yesterday. i feel them well up in me now, though. If you're in a place where you can see my heart, you know I loved you much. It wasn't just a crush. Maybe we'd have made it. Maybe not. But I'd have given it my everything. Love you, miss you. oh, the tears.

I made it, only to be confronted with a random stab in the dark. Blood squirts from the cavity made fresh from a blade made of chicken bones and half eaten kit kats. What is this he adds, does the end bring about a new beginning, born into a status of unheard of resources and new connections, more powerful connections.....no matter the top of the trash can is as easily torn apart by brute force as is the faces of my victims lying facedown in a big ass pile of bat guano that's been accumulating for 75 years and never seems to get old but stay, juicy. He's catapulted to newer heights from the depths of sweaty gym socks and and inferno of people and their hot breath to a land of even playing fields, or so the illusion seems. It's hot and as the character sifts through his trusty utility belt to find even more shit that doesn't make sense, he realizes that in order for things to fall back into his own sense of logic, he has to make one to begin with.

In between Trailer Park Boys and a jolly tug on my roger I imagine to many things to be allowed put into words other than a format called a blog. As I tear the led out of neutered horse I begin to ride asshole naked down a rainbow..they must've caught wind of my plan they laid out the spkie strips. Immediately a buttermilk biscuit comes flying through the window and lands head first in my jello. Holy shit, next thing you know pigs will learn how to make deatomizers!!! That's a big 10-5 batman, and eightball corner pocket also. What who told you that a shot of tequila costs #3. Wait, is that a real value or a #3....anyway I make my way into the bedroom, there are candy apple posts and lucky charms swirling around in the toilet after I poop. "To many blondes in the men's room" yells the toilet nazi, (he's not racist he just is a dick when it comes to toilets) and he shoots mayo and peanut butter jizz all over their faces and runs them out. Can 20 dollars get me a blow job my lost associate asks me, I say not only that but it'll get you that mr. owl from the tootsie roll commercial that bites right through it....TO BE CONTINUED!!!!!??????!?!?!?!?!?!?!?????

I had just acquired a 10mg methadone pill, and have a huge fetish with needles what I want to know is if it's possible to inject one of these bad boys, If it's possible do I cold shake or cook?

Of course everyone knows about the big Tsunami in Japan. Here in the Philippines it was anti-climatic. They issued warnings over it but amazingly our warning was issued 17 hours after the waves arrived. Luckily the highest wave was a mere 70 centimeters, not even decent for Wakeboarding. One shouldn't be so flippant when Japan saw real death and destruction but...Fuck Japan.

When we were still brokering shiploads of lumber our business was concentrated in Japan, and to a lesser extent South Korea. Those 2 nations are the top markets for Philippine hardwoods. Every 6 weeks or so I would have to spend 2 or 3 days in Nagoya, a provincial Japanese city if ever there was one. Once or twice I would go to Tokyo, obstensibly for business but in reality it was merely an excuse to poke around.

It goes without saying that the Japanese have a very unique culture. One aspect that most Westerners remain unknowledgable about is its inherent racism. I love how people love to talk about how we Jews are supremacists for daring to use the label,"The Chosen People." Never mind that it does not mean G-D chose us, it just is hypocritical for people to always latch onto it when every religion BUT Judaism sees itself as favoured. Shintoism is a prime example. For those who aren't familiar with the term, Shintoism is the Japanese State Religion and to one degree or another it is practiced by almost all Japanese, albeit synchrestically as an addition to Zen Buddhism, or even the increasingly popular Christianity.

Shinto sees the Emperor as a deity and the Japanese People as the supreme form of humanity. Non-Japanese are inferior in all ways. Though this isn't discussed much one can see the manifestations of this creed in signs warning that only Japanese customers will receive service. Can you imagine what would happen were Israel to have signs in windows saying "Only Jewish Customers will be Served"?

The strangest part of this supremacist outlook, and certainly the saddest part is how overseas Japanese are perceived. Most Americans and Europeans are unaware that Brasil and Peru have huge minorities of ethnic Japanese who have been there for up to 5 generations. Though almost always intermarrying so that physically they are fully Japanese, they are almost always with an almost total loss of Japanese Culture. Speaking Portugese and Spanish, observing the cultures of their birth countries, they are a hybrid of East and West. Japan, like many nations, will award you citizenship if you have a single grandparent with Japanese citizenship. The economies of Brasil and Peru being what they are have led to an exodus of Japanese emigrants who by and large seek to return to Japan. Japan tends to house them in segregated neighbourhoods which have evolved into the equivalent of American ghettos. The worse of the lot are those Japanese whose ancestors have intermarried with non-Japanese Brasilians and Peruvians. Not only are they ignorant of Japanese Language and Culture, they also don't appear entirely Japanese.

Outside of Japan this inherent racism was manifested in Japanese Imperialism, and the madness it wrought in WWII. Here on Mindanao there are still Japanese Deserters from that war who are terrified of being discovered. In 2007 two were found living deep in the jungle, in caves, like wildmen. The West likes to tell stories about how men like these 2 were still fighting for Japan, unaware that Japan had been defeated. Bullshit. Who are they fighting? Monkeys? In 2007 Japan sent a delegation to try and talk those 2 old men out of the hills but the men refused to even meet with the emissaries. Understanding well that although there are no longer legal ramifications associated with their Desertion, Shintoism considers them as worse than sub-human. Who in their right mind would choose to live along those lines?

Last year they found a 3rd man but he was living as a Filipino in a mountain village, married with grown children. At least the bloke could make a life for himself. Living in jungle caves. For 68 years? No thanks.

Onto "Senseless Violence." The Maoists ambushed some more police. Last time it was in back of our largest rice paddy, killing 3, wounding 2 and abducting the least wounded. Now they tried taking out a police jeep on the road in front of our compound, but 2km away in the municipality of Bonobo across the provincial line in Surigao del Sur. The actual provincial border is 1.5km away and they never cross it. Our municipality, San Francisco aka "San Franz" is devoid of insurgency thanks to the paramilitary I am involved with, BULIF (Bungkatol Liberation Front). That latest ambush didn't employ landmines or IEDs, only a cross fire which barely managed to wound the driver when his windshield imploded. Of course they sped away and made it to the Lianga Garrison.

I had meant to discuss "Millions of Rats" in my entry about the documentary, "Daughter from Danang." The municpality of Kabacan in North Cotabato Province is still reeling from a large clash between the MNLF and MILF, the 2 largest Islamic Insurgencies who turned on each other in that sector. To make things worse, Kidnap for Ransom is reaching epidemic proportions there as well. As if all that isn't bad enough, now the rice crop is lost because of an explosion in the rat population. The rat explosion, if that is an apt term, began there and has now spread to Maguindanao Province as well. We are seperated from North Cotabato by Bukidnon Province, and thus far no problem has arisen there. Still, it has people on edge. I would imagine though that peasants are happy as clams. Rats are eaten here so I guess every cloud has a silver lining.

So the adopted girl, Heidi Bub, finally decided to try and find out about her family and located the adoption agency that had processed her adoption. Writing to it she found that while these assholes refused to open their files (I believe that the US has laws that this agency violated) they would send her a sealed letter her birth mother had written several years previous.

A San Francisco Vienamese-American journalist cum activist had been in Vietnam in the mid-1990s researching the US programme, "Operation Stork." As she sat in a Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon) community centre a middle aged Vietnamese woman pushed her way to the front of the cue and without saying much told the activist to give it to her daughter, innocently thinking that the activist would know all Vietnamese and Ameriasians in the US. The best the activist could do though was send it to the authorities at the US State Dept., the agency who ran that clusterfuck of a human tragedy.

So it was that this later came to Heidi Bub along with the particulars of the activist. Naturally Heidi contacted the activist to try and ready herself for the big meet as it were. The activist had a filmmaker friend who asked Heidi if she would agree to have a documentary made about the whole affair.

Heidi tells the camera how this has been her lifelong dream and tearfully tells the activist who is accompanying her as a translator slash facilitator how she is having her deepest wishes answered. Arriving after a 23 hour haul from the States (they ARE killer) she moseys off her jumbo jet into that damp tropical oven, walked into the terminal and voila! I don't get overtly emotional often, a lifetime in war zones will do that to you but I don't mind saying I was sobbing, such a heart warming vignette...and THAT is what makes the rest of the film so frustrating.

By day 2 Heidi, in her cloying Tennessee molasses drawl confidentially tells us that she cannot understand her birth mother wanting to spend every moment by her side: "C'mon on, I'm sorry y'all but all this touchy feely togetherness? C'mon! I reckon it was that moment that made me want to "smack the bitch up," in the words of the great oracle of truth, Da' Prodigy. It only gets better from there.

The birth mother has a large brood and even now Vietnam is a terribly poor nation. This film was made at the turn of the millenium a time in which the country was just liberalising its economy. In other words, ig you think Vietnam is piss poor NOW, you ain't seen nothin'. So, the eldest brother haltingly tells her through the journalist cum activist cum translator (a lot of cummin! Gosh you are so dirty minded) that since Heidi had left for America in 1975 he had been the family breadwinner. Now he said, it was time for Heidi to kick it up a notch and help support mum and put younger siblings, nephews and nieces through school and so forth.

As one could expect from someone who bitches ant moans about her mother daring to want to hold her hand after being separated for 25 years, Heidi wasn't too keen on the idea. She didn't say anything just then but you cannot miss how her countenance changed. Her cheesy corn-fed smile twitched. Big time and she visibly tightened most muscles in her body. As soon as it was time for another camera confessional she haughtily denigrated her brother: "Who does he think he is? I come to find my family and they see me as a business opportunity."

OK, recognising that at the time this film was made the internet was nothing like the behemoth information hiway it is today one COULD write off her ignorance of Vietnam but how to do so when it is juxtaposed against her gripes about her mother's need for reassurance?

Vietnam is a typical Southeast Asian Culture in that the family sublimates its individuality for the betterment of the whole. Actually, ALL Asian Cultures do this. Likewise, the eldest child OR the child with the best means to do so fully supports his or her family. Heidi was in the US, even without the Asian misconception that Westerners are invariably rich there is going to be the assumption that even if one's family member is on the dole in the West they are doing better than the upper middle class back in the "old country". You can hear Americans claiming about living in the ghetto but quite often you will be hearing that complaint via his or her cell phone... Or perhaps you are seeing them express it online on their PC. In SE Asia, there are families living in what are supposed to be private loos (bathrooms), or in a crypt full of human remains. Here in the Philippines it is in every large city.

Heidi should have researched, after all its her homeland but all Heidi could do was think for herself. To compound this travesty in the years since it was filmed, almost a decade ago now, she hasn't expressed one iota of remorse. What a pig. Worse still, according to her own comments on various websites where she has refused to be interviewed but has deigned to issue short responses, she has not communicated with her poor old mum or siblings since that "reunion."

Fghhj

I can't stand being depressed.
I hate it, and I hate when I can't seem to get out of it.
I am ready to get the fuck out of my funk.
I'm so drained and sad.
I've spent days basically vegging out in front of the tv and watching movies........
I didn't even want to do that but staring at the wall got old pretty fast.
I think I need to go to the library and pick up some books. Maybe reading would be good.

i miss you so much. i don't know anyone who knows you, but your death has really sent me on an emotional tailspin that I don't know if anyone else is going through. this is still a subject that i have to fight back tears over. i'm in bereavement therapy, i probably told you.
honestly, i kinda put you on a pedestal. then, all we talked about was drugs & that bothered me a bit. i wanted so much more from us. but, i guess people talk about stuff they know and we knew that between us. it was almost as if those were your glory days, not your hs-usa years. but maybe since we didn't have that in common, drugs are what we talked about. i do know that if we ended up together, we would've found much more to talk about. you were smart and you know i am. i forgot to say or maybe i said yesterday, i began the process of working for the humane society. my dad and i had it out last night as usual, but he seemed quite happy about me choosing to do something positive.
i could swear that i feel someone else in my room at times. i don't always feel it, well, i never feel it as it happens, i don't think. it's just that i'll feel that someone else was just sitting here with me. if i'm to believe in such stuff, then i believe that you have stopped by from time to time. no telling how i'd act if i met you first, before you died. I'd probably be in a ward or jail or dead. your loss has been the biggest thing ever in my life.

Nature has always been my reset button of sorts.
It calms me and brings me back to what I recognize as sacred or spiritual........
I think I am in need of some extra nature time this week.

nooooooooooooooooooo! COME BACK, I NEED YOU!

My first experience with opiates is also my first experiment with drugs.

We stored, of course, hydrocodone from the dentist, in our kitchen medicine cupboard. A bored 7th grader on summer vacation would eat 3 then jump down the stairs to feel the drunk and lucid effects of the opiate. He had his internet friend from california stay up all night on net meeting. The naive opiate user was afraid he would over dose.

Fast forward to 9th grade, I get booted out of highschool for a technology crime. I formatted networked hard disks. I was sent to an alternative school for misbehaving children and met people who were in the alternative school for drugs, violence, vandalism. Every day was anticipation for the after school cannibis. I dont recall if I was opiate free during this total time, as I knew well what hydrocodone were, and fairly certain none were left in my cabinet. Yet I'm rather certain my tryst with opiates had not began to begin.

A year later in the summer of 2004 I met my father in Thailand for a summer vacation. I went mushroom hunting in the islands of the south. I smoked opium in the golden north. Back at home the fellas werent far behind. They had gotten ahold of oxycodone's and fentanyl candy and transdermal patches. I desperately wanted to try each of these for myself.

Now in my eleventh year I was living at a friends house flipping burgers at mcdonalds for a pay check, spending my money on hydro weed. By this time I could tell what the difference was between a tylenol three and a lortab. I used to take one or two generic lortabs and feel bliss. Well later that year I got sent to a residential treatment center. I was there strictly on the basis that I was a run-away. Twice a week or so, a man would round up kids who were enrolled in a chemical dependency class. I wasnt invited. A few months in I was unexpectedly released back to my home. Three months total stay average length of residency was nine months to a year.

Not long after I got back home I was back to living at my friends apartment. In fact to this day I still tell him that I am forever in debt to him because he allowed me to live there while I graduated from highschool. This was the beginning of my twelfth year. My twelfth year was not entirely opiate free however I cannot recall specific affairs i had with any particular substance.

That summer I turned eighteen, and I believe the group was into the opiate culture to the definition. We would buy mass amounts of oxycotin and drive to the other side of town and stay at a friends house drinking Jagermeister Liqueur and doing opiates all night. I remember also worrying about my own personal limitations that evening. From there is just a sequence of dollars paid hand over fist for oxycotins, lortabs, basically moving up all opiates until they no longer were effective. This must've lasted two years.

I had snorted heroin a couple of times. I didnt like it. I didnt like the way it burned my nose, The way it smelled, The way it made you feel. Such a bad high in my opinion almost like the satisfaction one recieves from meaningless sex with a hooker. No meaning. There was a group of us trying to get twenty dollars together to throw down for heroin. All I had to do was wait this night. The heroin finally showed up and none of the people who were in the house were IDU's at that moment in time. However, all the males in the room would later turn out to be addicts, and 2/3's of the females in the room would end up injecting it as well. In November of 2008 another addict injected me with heroin. At first I was reluctant to let him inject me because I did not like needles, and I also didnt have a safe needle. He was at my house with a friend of his who talked about why I wouldnt inject. "Oh he knows better than to do this shit," or "he's scared of needles." So I found a safe needle that I knew was safe (and sterilized it with a pressure canner to be extra safe) then I proceeded to let him doctor an injection into my veins. I was very and I do mean very weary of him injecting me, nobody is perfect yet its not rocket science and I would not let anyone touch my body now or never. Never wanted to. Considering the amount of time i spent on this forum reading about safer technique I can safely say I am the most informed user among my circle. Rotating, bevel down, etc. all make for good ettiquette. Not much disfiguring of my own arms.

Shortly after this encounter I had a second vacation to thailand this took me away from the scene, and I uknowingly, missed a great deal of what would be the demise of a group of friends.

I'm so ashamed about the events that have transpired in the last 48 or so. i got my car keyed. I may have proper insurance just for it so that'd be great! If i'd met you in feb, events that led up to this would not have occurred. but it's not your fault how someone else acts.
i've held back tears several times today thinking of us. Me and a small uhaul, to meet my destiny, destroyed. you're just ash now.
as are my dreams, hopes, and aspirations.
I bout don't give a fuck anymore! (not about us) if my gma passes by the end of the summer, i'm PISSED AT YOU!

THey folks, ive been w/o a home pc forever! Thanks for the comm last post Overdone. Having no access to home pc sucks, on the up side i got a galaxy tab. Its fun, its great, im certainly never bored at work, but nowadays companies dont want to spend money so customers can have a bleedin manual and tell us to read them online, lol. Well i got this thing very late december last year, kept this fact from momso i dont get yelled at about money. She refuses to allow me to let a friend come over just to move her heavy ass solid oak shit so i have room to hook up my home pc.

In spite of what she says, the fact is before 1997, the year she had 30 contracters at once redoing the house from floor to roof, we got along great whether i was using-or not. That year was a turning point for her though, and while im glad to say we are at least on civil terms most of the time, the older shes gotten since 97, the more controlling shes become.

My using has been and continues to remain at "meth/pill maintainence" only, no more, no less. I cant go crazy as i gotta work 5 nights a week plus im not rich these days. The garnishment has left me scraping by and i got more work on the room cleaned. It actually looks presentable. I may have access to a cheap studio,the ones my friend Daves dad owns.

No one moves out but say once every 7 to 10 years and only cause something drastic forced them to leave. The tiny studio is $400/month, dirt cheap for orange co in So Cali. The guy left the studio to live in a voluntary mental institution, which he needs the help anyway. We'll see. Repairs to the john are gonna take time which i need though. Fingers crossed.

Anyway, its taking me awhile to pretty much learn this Galaxy Tab on my own by trial and error. They should give us a manual if a customer spends $400. I did find and email a copy of the manual to myself, which is of no help until i find a way to print 157 pages, even though its a 3" x 4" booklet im guessing, still thats alot of ink and paper.

As i said im slowly learning this thing as thats the only way i can use it, but its also the reason ive been away from BL posting and blog. Also, because ive been temporarily cut off from an actual REAL keyboard, is also the reason i dont bother with all the proper punctuation so much quicker and easier to do from a dinosaur keyboard ive had 33 years experience. Ive so missed writing though, and i think this is the beginning of me getting back into it. Its like a pressure valve of a sort that allows me to vent whatever frustration and negativity, thereby taking half the power out of states of fear, despair, depression, and a generalized lack of motivation.

Also, because for some reason writing emails was learned way faster than trying to blog from this tab, dont ask me y, but the controls both on the site and the tab itself are way different than home pc. Not having a manual at my fingertips has thwarted 90% of my writing, so personal emails ended up being blog entries although unintended.

Erik and Suzy my unseen cybermates are the only two i really talk to candidly and im told vice versa. Erik is in Vancouver and he called me last week to tell me he got a job offer Down Under, LOL, talk about irony. Thats where Suzy lives and although they havent met, i talk about one to the other all the time. Since using forces us into secret or double lives, y not try to give them other support with each other as i have. I was gonna post an email that was more a blog entry but fear i run out of room. To be continued,

I thought you might be interested in reading this web page:
http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/showthread.php?t=205787&referrerid=73374

From,
TJ5

Hey Suzy u asked me was Turbo and Spice a book, well i had emailed u a copy maybe a couple months or so ago. It had taken place in dec 2001, during the good old days when i got away with having my CrystalMethSlammers or CMS yahoo group for 6 years b4 an undercover pig tried to join. I remember the fuckers brazen yahoo ID "takedown. . ." and wot i think was a New York City zip code or precinct#. He didnt even bother to try and not LOOK like a cop with his profile picture! "Fuck me tender," i sed under my breath. He had a crew cut and expression that sed narc police. I assumed he was banking on the moderator, me thinking i prob didnt even bother screening who joined the group, as we talked pretty openly about all aspects of drug, mainly slammin speed and i no people sometimes met connects, which is how and y i met bobby spice aka peter right off my site, but only did speed every 3 months and took a week off work to do it. Did that 2 years until the damn methadone companies i worked for insisted on nurses working these rediculous 9 or 12 days in a row and wudnt let me hav the unpaid time off. So back to using full time, and when i insisted on sticking up for my rites, shit i often let slide WAY longer than i ever did clean, i got the boot---and saddled back on the beast again lol. The book was rather long i assumed thats y u didnt read it so i sent u one page excerpt instead with the other thread i sent u. The story is also on my A Chemical Romance Group on yahoo. Its been dead since i have no home pc and because after having all my years of hard work deleted after 6 years, then some asshole whined to yahoo about my CMS2 group after 2 years-- along with yet ANOTHER freaken account closed email too and everything, i sed fuck it. The chem group i made unlisted so no one knows its even there unless i invite them personally. Its a shame i had some DAMN good info, lost because the drug topic unless
promoting complete abstainence is a violation of yahoos terms. If ur still a member u can
access the stories.

As for above thread it occured in may and june 2005 barely holding onto the expensive motel rent each week, barely able to pay for my habit in the end and rent was $312/week. Ever notice how in that line of work biz is fine or more than u want, until the day u really DO need itat which point biz is a slow at best, til being forced to leave yet another place for lack of money. In my case i was allowed to spend 2 nights at my connect/runner Susie & Scotts place and even given permission to work paying customers since they gave me their unoccupied parents room who were comin back the day i left. It didnt matter. I was out of dope and my morale so low that even trying to hustle money to score more dope felt pointless. I lived at Aimee and Lindas a week, left for motel as i didnt want to wear out my welcome and after 1998 drama, made sure from then on in terms of friends i made it a point to be the one to leave first . That way fucked as it was, it was still my choice and my friendships intact. Totally defeated, jobless and being forced to go on interviews the number 1 on my list for hate to do's lay ahead back in moms house and feeling no better than the lowest scum for failing AGAIN at being able to support myself, i went hanging my head in shame at the bleak no money, no job, no motivation for fuck all. And that was when i always wanted dope the most cause for a week i hid out and slept til moms ragging - and broken car with no money to fix it got me to do the 2 mile walk to Lindas - plus the unexpected relief of a couple lines i got from a deal, plus a stranger who saw me walking home offered a ride, $15 for my phone that of course had no money, and later the offer of dinner which i scarfed down for being so hungry, knowing my suspicions he did speed were true since he ordered no food for himself but talked a mile a minute from the second he picked me up off the street. I always wait for the stranger to bring up the dope topic and wen the night ended for me and he dropd me home at 3am, thanked god i HAD gotten out of the house even though grim and bleak were the themes of the last couple weeks. I wud of misd out on the 2 lines of tweak from a deal at lindas as well as the two lines the stranger gave me for later.

I've been distancing myself or intentionally sabotaging any real life relationships I have. Don't be fooled, I don't have many.

Had an unnecessary blow out with 'M' tonight. That shit is done with for good now. Not having it.

Called my sponsor and told him I'm done with NA. I'll hit a meeting maybe once a month perhaps but thats it.

People at work... I'm here to do a job, that's it.

What the fuck am I really up to?

Suicide? Relapse?

Once this nicotine is completely out of my system I'm certain I'll have a clearer idea of what the fuck I'm doing.

TBH, I'm on my own and no longer need people to give a shit. I'll figure it out without the conditional help from others.

For now, y'all gotta get the fuck away and probably just stay the fuck away

they have been telling me i needed new tires all winter. i ignored them cause i can find a zillion things i would rather spend money on. but after this morning, i think i will get new tires.

(this was posted on facebook too. but i like having a record here cause i read thru here more often and its far easier to find old entries)

my car spun out on the higway and the snow on the side was deep enough that it wasn't going anywhere without a tow truck according to the firefighters on the scene. i called for a tow truck and it was going to take two hours.

then the cops showed up a while later and tried to push me out to no avail. and then my battery died. while all this was happening, another car crashed into the fire truck. there were two other cars still stuck from earlier too.

the cops decided they were calling for a tow themselves (from the same company i called) to get cars off the road. in order for the cops to do this, they had to write me a parking ticket.

the cops then decided its actually not their jurisdiction and demanded cops from a neighboring city come deal with the mess. they argued back and forth for nearly an hour while 3 of us sat crammed in the back seat (their car was fucked and mine was dead with a window that wouldn't shut).

by time the cops finished arguing and called the tow truck, it was already on its way from my original call. so i ended up not getting a ticket or impounded. but the tow truck only wanted to pull me back onto the highway. he said if i wanted a jump for my dead battery, i would need to call back my insurance for approval.

the tow guy helped push the cop car out of the snow while i called my insurance to tell them i needed my battery jumped too. at this point i told progressive i simply wanted my car towed to my apartment instead. i then called my boss and said there was no way i was coming into school today.

the good thing is, my car is fine (minus the dead battery and tires which need replacing) and i am fine (minus slightly stressed).

this seems to be a fractal universe where "things*" bloat into existence (by taking complexity from their surroundings), spiral around interacting with their surroundings (exchanging patterns), and finally dissipate into their surroundings.

(AKA look at a 3D moving fractal; compare fractal structures to our universe, from helical sheets of trillions of galaxies, to galaxies, to tornadoes, and down to the shape of atomic bonds)

* "things" includes: galaxies, stars, planets, humans, and existential awareness(es) (aka our consciousness)

i think it's possible that our consciousness may not dissipate, and end up somewhere "else", but very improbable. my rationale that it is possible is that we know nothing of how/why consciousness works/exists, it does not fit into a material model of the world in any way we've yet to see (mechanical gears can't produce conscious experience). but because of how every other "thing" dissipates, i think death may simply be just like sleep, and our consciousness dissipates along with the components of our body that we do understand scientifically (all of which definitely dissipate).

that sort of sucks imo. the cold deterministic "machine universe" seems to depress some people, but imo, from our vantage point, it should be nothing but awe inspiring, beautiful, and amazing. shit's a ride.

So I went and copped a bag of some fire dope to test it out... once I knew it was good I called the dude and he gave me the wrong # or I heard wrong. So I went back to find some other guy sitting on the block, copped from him and was complete waste of time. Ofcourse that time I had copped way more...

What up world. I am very new to this site and am kinda trippin a little. I have done a lot of research about the brain and some of its chemistry. I would love to share my knowledge and receive more. I am looking for new like minded friends to chat with etc. So Maybe someone could add me already. Im eager, my brain is HUGRY, feed me.

Soo I did a shot of H like last week and I now have a small hard bump under my skin its not painful but it worries me!! Anyone know what it could be????

Also I never miss and I happened to do so a little bit 2 days ago, my arm is still swollen and very painful what does this mean???