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As I noted last time, Verizon has some decent Blackberry apps. Still mad (in a good way) about that internet radio. Not listening to that Belgian Vocal Trance station but on an Israeli Trance station (it is just about our national genre) I heard a perfect mashup, "Destination Awakening" by Redstar, a Redstar vs Dt8 Project. If THAT doesn't snap your neck nothing will. I love Dt8 anyway, Andrea Britton has a great voice. I keep the original mix of "Winter" on my memoury card (4GB, roughly 400 tracks including a dozen full mixes).

I have been getting into Dub Step lately, Caspa and Mr.Hudson "Back for the First Time." DJ Fresh...

Fuck it, here is my must have list:

"We Become One" Junkie XL

"Take my Love" Sound of SoHo

"Strange Condition" (Inpetto Vocal Mix) Morgan Page

"Star Strings" (Vocal Version) Jody Wisternoff

"Addicted" (Full Club Mix) Serge Devant ft Hadley

"Another Day on the Terrace" Sunlounger

"Any Love" (Scandall on Sunset Ibiza Rmx) *I don't even know the artist, I copped it off a Scandall CD I dug in Hong Komg on my way over here. He's got it on a 2010 Hed Kandi compilation but couldn't tell you which. The shit is reeeeal tight though.

"Autumn Sun" (Original Mix) DJ Tatana

"Fire" (Radio Edit) Ferry Corsten ft Simon Lebon (yeah, from Duran Duran but it is still a must have, when Ferry drops it in, man!)

"Key of Life" (MaRlo Rmx) Ohmna ft Nurlaila

"Pacifica" Freemasons


OK, enough for now.

Yet another "incident" took place. Friday afternoon I was going to get my methadone. The clinic is on the 2nd floor, I enter the building alone, am almost at the top of the stairs when I feel a guy coming up real fast. This guy even puts a hand lightly on my shoulder as if he is impatient but I decide to not say anything which is super unusual for me. After the library I have been making a conscious effort to not get into fights. I will be 44, it looks stupid getting into fistfights at this age. Being the person I am though, I decide to fuck with this asshole.

The hallway leading to the entrance on that 2nd floor is very narrow. I begin walking soooooooo slow. 2 steps from the entrance, literally, this dickhead actually jumps in front of me, literally mind you, and then jogs to the lady handing out the tickets. There was noone there waiting, what the fuck is he running for? 6 fucken windows? Anyway, I loudly said, "Fucken savages!" I know, I know, I shouldn't. "He said even louder, "Who you talking to, ME?"I then walked right past him to the 2nd ticket counter and was given a number ahead of him. I then looked at him nodding my head as if to say "Tsk,tsk" and said, "All that running for nothing" though I said that calmly.

I got my bottles, went downstairs expecting the guy to try to shine, but luckily for me he didn't come out after me. All I need to do is get pinched for an Assault. Anyway, I am about to leave this shithole of a city. It is kind of funny. There was a thread in "Second Opinion" forum asking if posters lock their doors. I explained about my life in Mindanao. I live in a concrete fort, surrounded by a moat (well on 3 sides, the 4th is a creek), which is itself surrounded by chainlink topped with razor wire. A poster asked how I can stand such a life, it must be stressful. The truth is though that in places where everyone openly carries AKs and M16s people never disrespect one another. It is only in the West that I get stressed. Go figure.

Anyway, very cold outside, expecting more snow though it may not come until after I leave.
Looking for some chill people to hang with from the area. If you like to smoke, drink, or nod... Hit me up
Within a few centuries, it will be technically if not ideologically feasible to abolish suffering of any kind. If we wish to do so, then genetic engineering and nanotechnology can be used to banish unpleasant modes of consciousness from the living world. In their place, gradients of life-long, genetically pre-programmed well-being may animate our descendants instead. Millennia if not centuries hence, the world's last aversive experience may even be a precisely dateable event: perhaps a minor pain in an obscure marine invertebrate.

Far-fetched? Right now, the abolitionist project sounds fanciful. The task of redesigning our legacy-wetware still seems daunting. Rewriting the vertebrate genome, and re-engineering the global ecosystem, certainly pose immense scientific challenges even to a technologically advanced civilisation.

The ideological obstacles to a happy world, however, are more formidable still. For we've learned how to rationalise the need for mental pain - even though its nastier varieties blight innumerable lives, and even though its very existence will soon become optional.

Today, any scientific blueprint for getting rid of suffering via biotechnology is likely to be reduced to one of two negative stereotypes. Both stereotypes are disturbing, pervasive, and profoundly ill-conceived. Together, they impoverish our notion of what a Post-Darwinian regime of life-long happiness might be like; and delay its prospect.
  • The first stereotype of a pain-free world centres on soma - Aldous Huxley's brilliantly-conceived but spurious evocation of the "ideal pleasure-drug":

    "...Two thousand pharmacologists and bio-chemists were subsidized. Six years later it was being produced commercially. The perfect drug. Euphoric, narcotic, pleasantly hallucinant. All the advantages of Christianity and alcohol; none of their defects. Take a holiday from reality whenever you like, and come back without so much as a headache or a mythology. Stability was practically assured..."

    Soma is taken by the brainwashed and manipulated dupes of the ruling genetic caste in Brave New World. A cross between a hangoverless tranquilliser and a non-addictive opiate, soma allows Huxley's utopians to enjoy (episodes of) imbecilic, drug-induced bliss to offset their empty consumerist lives. In BNW, soma is a pleasureable cure-all; but it underwrites a static, philistine, loveless society where intellectual progress of any kind has been abolished. Surely we don't want to end up as brave new worlders?

  • The second stereotype of life-long bliss strikes us as even more degrading than pharmacological hedonism. It features an intra-cranially self-stimulating rat. The little creature's enraptured frenzy of lever-pressing is eventually followed by death from inanition, self-neglect and immunological collapse. Not just rats, but also fish, chickens, rabbits, guinea pigs, cats, dogs, monkeys and humans have all been found to exhibit electrical self-stimulatory behaviour when given the opportunity to do so. The pleasure-pain axis is an invariant feature of the vertebrate line - and beyond.
In the case of humans, our reward-pathways are (slightly) more anatomically diffuse than the average rodent. At least with present-day electrode-placement techniques, intra-cranial self-stimulation (ICSS) as practised by laboratory humans doesn't lead to uncontrolled hedonistic excess and death. Only depressed or deeply malaise-ridden human subjects compulsively self-stimulate when wired. Ill-defined "ethical constraints", however, are commonly held to forbid the human use of ICSS rather than to mandate its widespread adoption and refinement for "treatment-resistant" depression - even by avowed utilitarians. So instead of using depressed fellow humans, experimenters use rats. Pleasure-crazed rodents have become the symbolic expression of wirehead hedonism - and of all the pitfalls that "unnatural" pleasure entails.

Rats, of course, have a very poor image in our culture. Our mammalian cousins are still widely perceived as "vermin". Thus the sight of a blissed-out, manically self-stimulating rat does not inspire a sense of vicarious happiness in the rest of us. On the contrary, if achieving invincible well-being entails launching a program of world-wide wireheading - or its pharmacological and/or genetic counterparts - then most of us will recoil in distaste.

Yet the Olds' rat, and the image of electronically-triggered bliss, embody a morally catastrophic misconception of the landscape of options for paradise-engineering in the aeons ahead. For the varieties of genetically-coded well-being on offer to our successors needn't be squalid or self-centred. Nor need they be insipid, empty and amoral à la Huxley's Brave New World. Our future modes of well-being can be sublime, cerebral and empathetic - or take forms hitherto unknown.

Instead of being toxic, such exotically enriched states of consciousness can be transformed into the everyday norm of mental health. When it's precision-engineered, hedonic enrichment needn't lead to unbridled orgasmic frenzy. Nor need hedonic enrichment entail getting stuck in a wirehead rut. This is partly because in a naturalistic setting, even the crudest dopaminergic drugs tend to increase exploratory behaviour, will-power and the range of stimuli an organism finds rewarding. Novelty-seeking is normally heightened. Dopaminergics aren't just euphoriants: they also enhance "incentive-motivation". On this basis, our future is likely to be more diverse, not less.

Perhaps surprisingly too, controlled euphoria needn't be inherently "selfish" - i.e. hedonistic in the baser, egoistic sense. Non-neurotoxic and sustainable analogues of empathogen hug-drugs like MDMA ("Ecstasy") - which releases a lot of extra serotonin, dopamine and pro-social oxytocin - may potentially induce extraordinary serenity, empathy and love for others. An arsenal of cognitive enhancers will allow us be smarter too. For feeling blissful isn't the same as being "blissed-out".

Ultimately, however, using drugs or electrodes for psychological superhealth is arguably no better than taking medicines to promote physical superhealth. Such interventions can serve only as dirty and inelegant stopgaps. In an ideal world, our emotional, intellectual and physical well-being would be genetically predestined. A capacity for sustained bliss may be a design-feature of any Post-Darwinian mind. Indeed some futurists predict we will one day live in a paradise where suffering is physiologically inconceivable - a world where we can no more imagine what it is like to suffer than we can presently imagine what it is like to be a bat.

Technofantasy? Quite possibly. Today it is sublime bliss that is effectively inconceivable to most of us.

read more: [wireheading.com]
More so then any drug, I see coke bashed and bastardized on these forums. I grew up in NYC and tried coke after graduation getting it from one of my friends who sold very high quality coke at the time.

When asked about coke I tend to reply that I don't recommend trying it or discourage it, I just say that good coke is key. Cocaine is the champagne of drugs it is very expensive but the aspects that make it worth this price as very nuanced. Coke is not stronger than other stimulants, in fact I find addoral to be "stronger". Coke is far more pleasant.

Good coke is not tweaky, a few lines do not deprive one of sleep for an entire night, and one does not fiend ten minuets later. Good coke makes one throw up after three lines from the sheer purity, these lines will numb everything they touch withing ten seconds. There is no tingle, it is a full numbing as if Novo(caine) had been applied. One does not get physically tired while there mind is still going on coke, they feel one hundred percent energized and withing fatigue. A good line of coke lasts for about 30mins, and a redose of half a line should keep that going for close to an hour even with reasonable tolerance.

Bad coke is typically cut with amphs, this is useless garbage. This coke is as good or worse then just buying street speed, it is tweaky and fiendish. These lines will upset ones stomach in an unpleasant body load way, throwing up on pure coke is a smooth process that comes out of nowhere, the feeling of blowing amphs is more just heavy and unpleasant. One can blow almost limitless cut to shit coke without feeling as if they have had enough, something pure coke makes happen somewhat quickly. (3 lines for me and my tolerance is moderate, one line of good shit used to get me up and good).

Don't buy bad coke, its a waste of your money. The effect is similar enough to speed that its not worth paying those kind of prices. Bad coke is far more addictive and fiendish, if its not fire then don't both and its normally not.
ok well got up this morning at 8:20am, didn't sleep wortha shit last night because i'm still stuck to my "go to bed 3am" schedule, so it sucked.

the guy that did the seminar is a really cool guy. i've known him since 2007, and he got me here in this recovery place where i'm at today.
yesterday he talked about the brain, and how drugs effected the pleasure pathway, i dont have my notes, but he talked about the fancy named parts of the brain and how drugs effected them.
today he talked about step 4, (yesterday he talked about 1-3). I knew step 4 was listing people u hate, people uve slept with, and shit that scares you. which is in a nutshell sorta what it's like. what really stood out to me was the whole "fear" part of the 4th step invintory(sp)?, which i live in fear everyday. shit theres hundreds of things that i'm afraid of.
one thing is that i'm curently going through is, i'm afraid of jail, and prison. and monday i've having to turn myself in to b'ham jail. over a FTA. it sucks but before i can advance in my recovery i have to work through that, and since its my biggest fear atm, i gotta do it before i can work on any of the other shit.
a lot of people here care for me so that's pretty cool. i was worried about how i'm going to be able to pay for my space here at the halfway house, and if my spot will be here, they said not to worry about it becaause "people here care". which besides hearing it from bluelight, i didn't think anyone cared for me. yeah well my parents care, but it's a little diffrent.
called my sponsor a lil ago, and he's having a rough time dealing with a break-up. it was nice to talk friend to friend over whats going on in his life, and its cool that he opend up to me about it. because that means someone trusts me, which in the past no one has ever fucking trusted me, becasue i'm a lier, a cheat and a con. who wants to trust that?

YESSSS my foodstamp card came in, now i gotta activate it, and go shopppppppppppppppppin!
fuck im hungry lol.

well more will be revealed.
drew
I thought my Saturn Return would be kinda good- and in ways it has been. I have really been looking at myself, my life and my future or what I want for it........... It is confusing and yet simple.
I feel like my life has been turned upside down.
Not meaning to be so vague but its all I can think to say- b/c its about as clear as my head is.
Love is a 4 letter word that means so much, but than again it is just a word. But when you turn that word into a feeling, it changes everything.
Now there is a certain someone that this emotion is felt to the extreme, and I mean to the extreme (she know whose it is). Now I wish there was another word, other than love, because the word just doesnt express how I feel for her. Infatuation, well of course, devotion, only everything I do everyday; protector, well I try to, but I have been a having a little problem there since I cannot see her and I know she needs me. She says codependent, I say she is just my other half, my yin to my yang, my Sun to my Moon, my umm how to say this with it about being too sexual, (oh well) but yes my vagina to my penis. She is my everything and I am her everything. If she was to go from this world there would be no point for me caring on. And I believe this will never change, it hasnt for close to 10 years now.

When I am with her, nothing matters. Nothing, it is just me and her. When I am inside her, I am in complete heaven. I do not need a foreign substance to gain anything and I know this for sure. All I need is her to be with me. The only drug I need is her. I cant wait to be with her again and hopefully that will be sooner than later. I am working on it as the best as I could. It will be her Birthday in a few days, I wish I can give her the world, but unfortunately, I will be lucky to give her anything. Goodness she deserves so much more than I can give her, but she doesnt mind, she doesnt believe in materialistib stuff anyway. I really mess her and she knows that.

Now I know I got to take of mysele so I can take care of her. I will get better and everyday is getting better. Hopefully soon we shall be together and we will lay there together with nothing on and just hold her. Hold her in, hopefully by than, the strongest arms and she can just be safe. I cannot wait to be inside her and give her what I was the only man to ever give her (I know this what some people would not want to hear). But I was the one to actaully see her O face, and hear. I think the parents were still asleep and she didnt know I lived at home. So we serent thatr quiet. She met my OParents the next day.

Sorry I haveny posted in awhile, Eventhough the DA here is a butvh lesbian, she is ultra conservative and a bitch, but I have been in heaven, literally "I HAVE BEEN IN" my heaven and its so funny when you are sober its like, get it in there, ah shit I came.
well today started alright, went and did a little work, pourd some concrete, and then had to get on my belly and climb up under this house to fix some piping. shit sucked cuz i ran into like a dozen spiders.
nasty looking things, little, yellow/gold. big fat ass's poking in the air. i swear they lookd pretty posionious so i smashd them with my hammer.
i left my scent behind so it's only a matter of time before they get me while i'm sleeping.
helpd my buddy move into diffrent apartments.
tonight theres an AA seminar so it should be intersting. well other then that not a whole lot goin on.
goin 2 watch a movie tonight and chill.
TGIF!
im a mutant. a mysteriouse stranger. i come as a hero i leave as a damn fool. im going to be here for a while, get used to it. im a juggalo. proud to be white. but i aint a biggot im true. west-koast-killas.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------fat--------------------------------------------------------------jay-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------whoop-----------------------------------------------------------whoop-----------------------------------------------
im a mutant. a mysteriouse stranger. i come as a hero i leave as a damn fool. im going to be here for a while, get used to it. im a juggalo. proud to be white. but i aint a biggot im true. west-koast-killas.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------fat--------------------------------------------------------------jay-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------whoop-----------------------------------------------------------whoop-----------------------------------------------
well where to start,.
well have zero food, so it sucks. theres food in the fridge and in the pantry but it isn't mine. it's my room mates, and we are beefing at the moment.

he's ex-army and thinks that he can fucking control everything. fuck that i'm not letting him control me.

so he's got food in there, but i'm not going to touch it. no matter how hungry i am. i'm just going to have to deal with it.

i havn't eatn anything in the past 48 hours besides a little can of beany weenies.
shit sucks because i'm hungry.

i should've had foodstamps but the bitchs at the foodstamp office are fucking stupid.

theres something about me, its hard for me to go ask people for food, because they will look at me like i'm worth nothing.
so i dunno. maybe it's a pride thing, i guess i really wont know until i work the steps.
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on the other note, going to be working with my sponsor tonight, he's pretty cool. used to be on heroin and is a little bit older then me. so he knows sorta what i'm going through. he's going to bring me a ps2 game because my 360 is getting worked on.
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been working a little today, digging a septic tank it seems like, a shit pipe busted and i'm having to dig around it, and under it, getting shit water all over the place. shit sucks lol.
but its service work man, im not getting paid for it. so thats something pretty cool i guess.
ground was frozen this morning so i couldn't do anything, so i had to wait till later before i did anything.
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yeah going on 3 weeks sober now, almost a month, 2/3/11 is my 30days so dont feel like doing the math. working one day at a time. one minute at a time.
Today is my 21st day with absolutely no opiates of any kind. God must truly exist. Blood is thicker than water. A good girl goes a lot farther than a pretty one.

Feeling lethargic and minor depression. Nothing I can't handle. Cut down to 2-3 cigarettes a day. I'm starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
not really... i just figured i always bitch on here and felt like making a random post :)

hmm... i more or less worked stuff out with my friend who i posted about before. work is going well. i still hate cleveland. and snow. my new year's resolution is to move when the school year ends.
i never really thought it mattered. i suppose the state of one's penis might give me a clue where there person was raised, but that it is it.

somehow this came up while i was hanging out with my coworkers after work. it turned into a 45 minute conversation. maybe i am weird but discussing cocks with coworkers seems strange to me?

this is why i dislike hanging out with coworkers.
Yesterday I was using my Blackberry Curve, the device I am composing this entry on. All of a sudden my data services went dead. Each time I tried a different feature it had a window saying something along the lines of, "Server Busy, Try Again." In 2009 I was in the US for my medical treatment and T-Mobile (my carrier at the time) had a 3 week outage. It was maddening. Right away I thought the same, though now my carrier is Verizon. I checked with my friends with whom I am staying and who also use Verizon. They were fine.

I waited a half hour, then called Verizon. Verizon immediately told me that their Fraud Department had suspended my account. I use Verizon International fir 2 devices, my Blackberry and my Sidekick (1 for personal other for business). As time progresses I depend more and more on these phones and even in 200c I didn't have the feeling I had yesterday.

So I asked the talking head to connect me to Fraud, only to be told to leave my name and contact number. The problem being that my phones were dead, so I gave my friend's landline and hoped for the best.

No response. This morning at 8AM, the time Fraud opens, I had Verizon Customer Service patch me through. Finally I got a Fraud Co-ordinator on the line.

She tells me my account info doesn't match my Credit Report info. I was a bit relieved because of a prior relationship (which I will eventually get to in the "My Life" entries) where a lover took out several credit cards (actually 12) in my name, without my knowledge, then maxed them. I ended up paying 11,000 US to settle that shit but still had crap popping up years later. I don't believe in credit and until those cards had never even applied for credit. The Fraud Co-ordinator said my Report had me listed at 400 Brook Avenue, my flat here in the Bronx. I explained that I hadn't lived there since early 2006. I told her I have the International Contract because I live and work abroad and that this was all covered when I signed with them. She asked me to fax her copies of my official I'd with my current address on them. I explained that as an expat in the Philippines I did not get any type of official I'd (actually if you get Official Residency you do get a card but I am ineligible for that since it requires FBI Clearance if I claim my American citizenship, or Department of Interior Clearance from Israel. Can't get FBI having been in an American prison and Israel wont allow me to live in Mindanao because it is a war zone with Islamic based insurgencies). I asked if my civil marriage certificate from the Philippines might suffice (not that I bring it everywhere I go) but she said no. Finally I asked, if I provide something with the address I am staying at, would that do the trick. She asked what address was it, I told her, she said yes as long as it is "official." Asking what would constitute "official" proof I was told that government or utility correspondence.

Luckily I had just received a letter from OASAS (the NY State regulatory body for methadone maintenance) regarding my transitioning between foreign medical providers and my programme here in NY. I went to a pharmacy around the corner faxed a copy of my passport, as well as that paper and within in hour was re-connected.

The outage though made me realise that I really need to stop being so reliant upon technology. That's me, always looking for the blessing in disguise.

I do love this Blackberry though. I have internet radio on it, getting a Vocal Trance (my fave genre) from Brussels right now. I need to buy a pair of those Dr.Dre HD Headphones though! I have Sony 700s (DJ Headphones). I bought 3 pairs (I love them) for 540 US (total) since my single pair broke in Mindanao and I found it impossible to repair. Now I see J and R Musicworld in Manhattan has them for 80 US each! DR Dres are fantastic, 320 US a set though.
Anyway, enough for now...
Most people love warm climates, of course - true to form- I am not like most people. I love the cold, and when it snows I am in heaven. In Mindanao I always feel a pang when I watch CNN International and see a blizzard striking the US. It is strange because in much of the world, Scandanavia, the Baltic, and parts of Russia, snow is no big thing. New York City averages 21 inches (in American speak) of snow a year. Thus far it had already gotten 36 inches and as I write this a blizzard is raging outside. They say it will end by daybreak, another 3 or 4 hours, but should give 16 inches for just 30 hours of snowfall.

Back home we are flooding, which always happens in monsoon. The tropics are strange. Just in different parts of 1 island like Mindanao you can have a 50 percent difference in annual rainfall. I love rain as well, a summer thunderstorm almost trumps a blizzard. I remember in 2007 after I had 1st moved to the island full time we had a bit heavier than usual downpour. On the side of our compound, dividing our compound from another compound belonging to Rizza's cousins' family is a creek (we have 14 compounds on our road, all the same family with each branch having their own). The creek is maybe a meter (3 feet) deep at its deepest part, moderately flowing into our rice paddies. Those who saw my photos in Gallery will have seen it, as well as the paddies.

That day the rain came heavily, breaking the incessant heat (tropic "heat" is claustrophobic at times, stepping out of the airport in Manila I have seen it actually make Westerners stumble). I walked out of my house, past the main house, and walked over to our dryer. We have our oldest rice mill, the 1st one Rizza's parents bought, in our compound and mills need rice driers. It is simply a concrete platform with concaved alleys running through it to leek the grain's moisture content before we put it through mechanical driers which we power with rice husks from previously milled rice. Anyway, the dryer is next to the outer wall of our compound, running along the road and I wanted to see if our paddies across the road were flooding.

Rice can grow wet or dry, but most in SE Asia farm wet, using dikes and sluices to keep the paddy in up to half a meter of water (1.5 ft) through most of the grow cycle. Of course its grueling work, we use water buffalo, noone farms rice mechanically there. Our labourers work with the buffalo, wading through the paddy, cobras, scorpions, even young crocs, pretty dangerous.

Anyway, I stood on the dryer, looking out at the road through our gun blinds (compounds are like forts), and to my suprise the paddies on the other side were gone, it was a lake as far as I could see. I walked across to the wall along the creek, the creek runs through a gulley about 2 meters deep (6 ft), yet the water was just inches from the top!!! It had only been raining for less than 2 hours.

We were all there at that point, watching in disbelief. Within 20 minutes the creek was gone, as was the road and the water was all around us but the compound, which is a concrete fort held, maybe half a meter (1.5 ft) of water inside but outside much deeper. Our compounds are like castles, labourers, tenant farmers and their families live in nipas (pronounced
"nee-pahz,"bamboo framed huts covered in palm leaf thatch) or at times, when they save enough, we let them build cinderblock homes , leasing the land to them (if they have been with us for more than 1 generation). It is just like serfdom, unfortunately. They build them on our land, outside our walls so that small villages form. We have almost 700 people just around our mills and if you include the family as a whole, I am guessing but probably 20,000 people).

On the other side of what had been the creek was a cinderblock structure housing 2 extended families of labourers but belonging to the next compound. A kid, 7 or 8 maybe (could have been 14 since undernourishment and the Asian physique plays with appearances), sat in a window. The buildings have openings for windows but no glass. He sat there, evidently home alone, sitting in the window, just looking at me. As I stood there in a staring contest his home began filling up with water rapidly, and as I tried to decide whether to play the hero and go over the wall and swim for him the water stopped rising. Within an hour only inches remained on the ground though the creek was at road level. It was the most amazing thing.

Mindanao is the most heavily forested island in the country. Our region, Caraga (Agusan del Sur our province is 1 of 5 that comprise Caraga) is the most heavily forested on the island, so we have the most rainforest in the country. Yet even in Caraga the land is being raped. I was never an environmentalist but now? I cheer everytime the NPA (New Peoples Army, Maoist insurgents) slaughter employees of multi-national mining and lumber companies. They only target those of companies not paying "Revolutionary Taxes" but still, that is another hectare of bush that won't be shat upon, at least for the time being.

We used to broker loads of lumber , shipping half loads to S.Korea, Japan and Singapore but I got us out of it. We still farm. Trees but we manage it responsibly with seedlings, etc. but each year the island loses more and more. Each year the floods get worse.

So...here in NY they are whining about the snow but I love it. Early Wednesday (yesterday) a BMW was driving when it began skidding in the snow. The driver rear-ended a gypsy cab (ghetto taxi) and BOOM. The BMW tried to back up and run but couldn't get around the snow piled up by the plows. The driver got out and ran like hell.

The cops come, take the story and finally search the BMW. They see the passenger side seat is all pushed forward and looking in back of it see a foot. In the trunk (rear seat removed) is a man who looked dead but was only unconscious, though 1 ear had been removed. Talk about lucky, that motherfucker better count his blessings.

Reminds me of another story. Back when I was in the game, this kid I knew fucked up his package. Time to collect and they snatched him. They took him to a flat in Brooklyn, stripped him, put his feet in ice water, taped his eyes and mouth shut, and began Tasering him. About 20 minutes into it when they began slicing him with razors the Feds kicked in the door. They had the crew under investigation and had listened to a phone call where they discussed how to continue torturing him. Again, a lucky motherfucker. Imagine you are in that chair, it is enough to make you become a true believer. The man today though? He is in stable condition but won't even say his name so they are waiting for the prints to come back.
I have so many. Most are friends for awhile, you help them out, give them a place to live for free. Give them jobs that pay a lot of money. Give them drugs whenever they want. The party ends. I loose everything. No job, no money, no where to live.

Where sis everyone go? I shoud have remember my motto, the only person that will help you is yourself. Eventhough you did so much for so many people, thye will not help you in time of need. They will run for the hills. Doesnt matter you knew them all your life. You give and they take. When you run out of something to give, they are gone.

All fuck it. From now on, I am only going to look out for my wife and I. Everyone can kiss my jewish ass.
I just wanted to share with all the opened-minded peeps here. I tried plugging some of my MS Contins for the first time today around noon. I read a very thorough write up about the proper way of applying this technique. I must admit, at first, I was bit apprehensive. Not because of the procedure, but I wasn't sure if my body would cooperate with my plans. As it turned out...full cooperation
And I must say, it wasn't bad, not bad at all. In fact is was kinda nice. And best of all...no upset stomach. Considering that I've got horrendous acid reflux, I was hoping to try and administer the morphine with the least amount of discomfort and with the highest BA possible. It never would've crossed my mind to try this method had it not been for this wonderfully informative site. Thank you Bluelight for opening my eyes to new horizons and for relieving stomach discomfort.
Ok well yesterday I went to the foodstamp office to get foodstamps, I've already been on them before so I still had my card. the lady at the office said I'd have $200 on my card today, so I was like ok cool, i'll be able to get food.
Well went to wallmart today and did some awesome grochie shopping, picking out veggies, fruits, noodles, eggs, milk. $100 worth of food. spent like an hour and a half in the store.
so it was time to check out, and after the casher rang up the food i pulled out my foodstamp card, well it wasnt working, so standing there with like 5 other people in line i started to panic, oh fuck wtf is going on?
so the casher tried my card again, and nothing. the card was saying invalid. fuck man, i dont have any cash? so a manager came up and askd if there was a problem, im like yeah theres a problem. my foodstamp card isn't going through.
so the manager was like u need to call them, so luckly i ran into a room mate that had a phone and called the 1800# on the back of my card, i typd in my pin and the robot voice was like "invailid card, transfeering to customer service".
so the lady i was transferd to was like "yeah, ur cards been deactivated", i'm like no fucking shit. why dong i have $? so she told me that i have a new card coming in the mail.

well thats just fucking lovely, i wish the bitch at the foodstamp office would have told me this shit yesterday.
so i'm out $100 worth of food,and im fucking hungry. and pissd.

shits so agravating.

i think the bitchs at human services does this shit to piss u off.
My experience with "Suboxone Film was not too good....I tried them for two months and felt I was'nt getting enough absorbtion of Bupe. My doctor has since switched me back to the tablets and they seem to be working much better again.
So I Tried DXM the other day for the 2nd time in the form of 22 gels, then took another 12 gels for a re-dose.

My friend told me to listen to a song that would ultimately make the mind blow effect better when sleeping... him and I had NO idea How Much Better the dreaming visuals were...

Try to picture this if you can.
Your looking at an eye ball sideways. you see no white just the cornea in a glass with a sliver shine light effect and a black backround.

the pupil can't really be seen but you know it's there. now the iris is SO VIVID with colour, it has red, orange, blue, teal, and some green swished all around in it half way down from the cornea.

I thought i could see every colour in HD and the iris was like mountains, i could could see every dip, vally, arch, slant, and uprise of the iris. then the hyper speed effect!

All of a sudden with out warning i blasted myself into the iris part of the eye, and it burts into a Bunch (million) Particles! they were ridgid, 3D colourful particles but was suprise to notice they were moving by my head at a SUPER SLOW rate.

I started to play with these particles, felt like i could love anyone anywhere at anytime kind of feeling. then the pheniox effect...

Just as i touched the most vivid incolour blue/red/yellow the particles rushed into a central location infront of me (felt all the particles rush past me backwards), A Blinding white marble was infront of me just glowing with swirls of these colours...

then when it floated to me and rested in my hands for a split second... WOOOOSH! up-rose from this egg like marble exploded the PHOENIX! In the Most Stunning HD almost 4D particle/fire explosion, herds it's most beautiful call to the stars and flew away.

and then i woke up so content, and relaxed like never before. :D :D

ever since this dream on DXM i'm forever thinking about the colors and everything it makes other colours look dull in real life...
remember when days weren't based around tens, twenties, deals, nods, secret keeping? remember when a good day was a bump and a nod? remember that first time you upped your dose and fell in love? remember when that dose became the norm? remember the first big purchase you made, the one that was worth more than 100, 200, 300$? remember how fast that shit went? remember how you thought that big ass package you got was gonna last you a week, a couple weeks, and ended up gettin you thru three days? remember when you realized you were in too deep, shit was over your head, you weren't just havin fun anymore? remember the first time the word "junkie" slipped thru your mind, you pushed it so far back in your skull, you let it fall out and dipped out to forget it was ever there? remember the first joke someone made about you, "haha, u dippin out u fuckin junkie"? you laughed, you let your smile cover it up, you left that smile on your face a lil too long as you stared, you thought, you realized.

i am a fuckin junkie.

i am no different from your local bum, your local beggar.
"homeless, harmless, hungry, please help"
i could be holdin that sign. i am holding that sign, not literally, but i'm standing here, crying, hungry, havin no home to go to because i only find solace in my nod. home is where the heart is, right? well mine is in that little blue, green, white pill, that fentanyl patch recommended for pain only needing around the clock opioid maintenance. my pain needs around the clock opioid maintenance, but they don't make medicine for the broken hearted, the souls with holes, the people who walk around cold and dead and only feel alive once that shit is pumpin thru their veins, once their eyes are so pinned they look like they've been starin into the sun for 13 years, once they can't hold a newport in their hand without lighting fire to most and all clothing materials in the vicinity because they can't keep their shit together for 10 minutes to finish a fucking cigarette.

because the pain is so fuckin deep, the cuts run right thru the most vital organ, because no one can fucking touch where i'm at, so i push off, i nod out, i give in to my demons because i'm tired of going thru therapists like cheap toilet paper, i'm tired of "test runs" for this SSRI, that SSRI, this one will help that one, this one will make this one work better. but i know what works, and i know what helps, and you can't fucking touch it, you can't fucking touch me.

when i'm out, when i'm on the run, i'm on top of the fuckin world. nothing can hurt me, nothing can touch me, nothing will ruin me. i'm out, i'm living, i'm running towards salvation. i'm running towards my church, that rundown house on the corner of whatever and whatever. i'm going to my priest to ask for the body of christ, the healing powers of the lord. my dealer in the hood, that magic pill that makes everything better. my altar is his table, my prayer is whispered to the anointed, "just 5 to hold me over". my donation to the church is handed over, slid across pale wood littered with cigar guts and weed seeds, cigarette ashes and powder lines. they are our statues, our saints, the ones we pay to pray to, to light a candle.

i pray to thee, save my soul, i give my pain to thee, send me to my grave, give me peace, give me mercy, give me eternal silence, let my tired soul rest, let me come home. a home without tears and shakes and sweats, a home without the man on the corner taking all my hard earned money, a home where i can rest, where i can love, where i can heal and be whole again. let me lay my head forever.

a-fuckin-men.
I got to head to downtown today, its a short ride on the bus, like 15 minutes. I got to go talk to real lawyers, Public Defenders hate hearing that, hahaha. But hey, if your ass knew the law, I wouldnt have to hire a real one. It was so fucked up, I knew more law than my PD. I was the one doing all the talking hahahahaha. But than I am pretty smart and I did parlegal work for my Dad. I got to get the lawyer for the wife so I dont bring her down. Hopefully I can get some other deal other than to go on a 4 month vacation. I hate the food and than I will have so tell everyone Hi, I'm back. This time if any of the (this might sound racist, but we call it Politics here in SD) brothers/others or South Siders give me shit, they will see how this Wood fucks around when he aint dope sick. Last time around I almost beat the shit out of a brother, just cause we had to argue over the phone. Dumb shit. I am getting ahead of myself, I'm so done with this lifestyle, makes you old quick. Cross me fingers and wish me luck. Court isnt till the 3rd, but hopefully by than I will have a bunch of shit to show the judge.

If you ever saw a picture of me you would laugh at me saying this shit. I always got, "You Do H???" or "Your from Where????" or "You got in a fight"

Late
Hi, my name is Kooter (thats all you will get out of me for now, haha). I am that guy who just loves to help that person whoi is stuck on the side of the orad. You may think of me as some type of hero or such but I am not. I just like to help my fellow man. You may think I am the nicest young man to come around.

I'm not. I am a very bad person. I did drugs for a very long time, shit if you are one of the people I was helping in the past, I was high when you met me.

I also beat the shit out of some fuckers too. I threw this one dude out a window, shouldn't have called my wife a bitch (even though she was making fun of your dumb ass). I didn't get caught though, I didn't get caught a lot.

I stole, I cheated, I hustled. I just thought you could use some help and I would want some to help my father/mother/sister/brother/friend. When I saw that one accident and your car started on fire, I giot you our of there and threw sand on the car to put out the fire, sorry I had to leave, I was drinking at the time and I knew the cops wouldn't have liked that.

When I saw that other crash and you were pinned beneath the little car me and buds got you out, hopefully you are ok. I wish I could have stayed, but that huge sack in my pocket could have gotten me in trouble.

My wife and sister and all my family say I am a good person, but I know the truth. I am evil. I do things other people would never have thought of doing in there whole lives. I robbed your wallet before, but felt so bad, I just kept the cash and threw the thing in a mailbox. At least you got your cards back.

To the guy who ran my dog over when I was in jail. You are lucky I never met you. You would be in a wheel chair. You would be more hurt than my dog. I love my dogs more than myself. You are a very lucky person, very lucky. Very fucking lucky. She is a live at least, I just had to give her to the Basset Society so some rich fucking person who has a guilty conscience can love her, give her a place to run and play. Her sister misses her by the way. It's all your fault for running her over.

So basically I wanted people to know, you may think that guy who is being your hero is just a stand up citizen but most likely he's not. He's a great guy, but he has the same problems as me. The guy with the tie, he can care less about you, but that bald headed gangster, he will go out of his way to risk his life for yours. next time you see him walking down the street, don't be scared, just show a little respect, he has been threw a lot of shit.

I do not need a thanks after helping you, I just feel better that I can help you and that you get top go home to your perfect family and say "I love you" to them, because I can't.
What a fucking crappy day. I went to the ole NA meeting. Met a few people,got a few numbers, yadda, yadda, yadda.

But I was very depressed from not being able to contact my wife at all. This starting to really get to me. Like, I'm feeling super depressed and the shit runs deep in the family. I was actually assumed to have it when I was younger, but we didn't have health insurance so who knows. But I was knowing that something could help with this growing pain. There is a way to just not care, and I was getting close to not caring. I'm bussing it, so basically I was half way there, made a phone call and told that person I need a fix. She put my wife on the line, and I was happy again.

I didn't put any chemicals into my body, eventhough I keep getting that itch to tear a little jole in my arm with a "pointy object" that is filled with a dark substance. Even though, I was really jonsing, I got my fix from hearing the most beatiful voice.

This BULLshit, and those bulls just ate a laxatives and are having the time of there lives.

Fuck it, Fuck the bullshit
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