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I made it to my home group now last night and I hadn't been there in ages.

My grandmom in in the hospital, they don't know whats wrong yet. She gonna be in at least through today. I had only seen my grandfather cry one other time aside from when I wet AHHH I hate saying last night. Damn I didn't really sleep so fuckin day didn't change, date did but shit the world should be workin with me..uh right?!

Ya know I made a few peoples ears bleed listening to me and now I have no clue what to say or how to go about sayin it. So I'll be getting back on here soon to "update".

MORNIN YA'LL!

...on any other forum I post on. Tight, yo. Well, I got a crappy haircut today. I just had me a double of reserve captain on the rocks, super smooth, with a little spicy kick as always.

I am from a fairly traditional upper middle class Asian family, and if my parents find out what I do, they'd disown me like they do in movies, send me away to some place, or stick me in rehab. They are right-biased, as in homophobic, traditional, conservative folk who grew up in west la in the 70-80s, but much more liberal than your average traditional Gen X FOB Asian. They are helping me pay tuition, and I love them for doing that, but the rules are getting kinda ridiculous.

I own a legitamate automotive business that generates enough pocket cash to play and purchase things I want, but my parents just don't think I do anything and don't see the business. They think I should get a real job that pays...

Sidetrack: I worked at a job before that paid min.wage for a year. they gave me part time work as I had requested, but only maybe $6,000 in one year, and that was a few hours of my day M-F. One year.

I made $6,000 of profit after taxes in 3 sales, albeit the sales were hard to come by, and it took 2 weeks of "selling" to get that sale, but I did it 3 times to make that amount, and that is a hell of alot less than working 20 hours a week every week for 52 weeks. Why do I need to work a job I have to slave over for nothing? It wastes my time. Besides I get to hang out with friends, go to school whenever I want (night classes, yes!) and basically have the freedoms I need to feel satisfied.

The rules with the rents are kinda wack, but I respect the rules for the most part.

I get mildly depressed when I am repressed. My mind works wonders in open-range even though my attention surely has a deficit. When my mind is confined, things pile up in my brain, and I can't function. I'm slowly working on a way to get over this single-task type thinking, and try to multi-task but I go all hyper and wacko when I try to multi-task. Then I mess up everything and I realize over time, people start to think I am a klutz or just not brite. It's pretty belittling, and they are surprised once they find out what I do for fun.

No not drugs, even though the few I choose may be a small part of it.

I get high on information. But this 'information' has to be of interest to me at that moment. Sounds weird to some, maybe, but I am addicted to it. Wikipedia is the absolute worse invention/technological update for me...but god after reading and reading I just feel awesome.

An ever updating encyclopedia with a search function. FML. I am stuck clicking these little blue words, with 100 tabs open on 14 different windows.

I do read alot of pointless things and I have a slight case of OCD when it comes to things I focus on. Example: If I read on how to mix a drink (I like to bartend at parties), I have to make it *perfect* otherwise it goes in down the drain or in the trash. If I read on why a standard Mojito taste the wonderful way it does, and how it affects differents parts of the tongue at different times to produce a particular sensation when you drink this rum-based drink, I will read the entire page because I usually have to. I don't know why I "have to" but I do. I may or may not ever use the information, but I will know it. Another thing knocked off the list of to know, right?

I don't agree with classifying myself to anything because it limits my mind, but I most likely resemble Wikipedia's descriptions of the majority of Gen Y.

Random 3AM I _ _ paragraph:
I like guns. I love women. I like sex. I love making love. I like kink. Sometimes. I like fast cars and things. I am ego centric. Not always good, but you can already tell by the tone of my (I always wanted to say this) blog. I like altered states of mind. I like to dream. I am a musician. I love music. I like the internets. I like reading. I like rambling in hopes that one person may read it and make a connection or give a haha, but I do not care if anyone does. I am thinking out loud.

I am not against homosexuals or any of their rights as they are people just like everyone else, but I do get a bit weirded out when my gay friends make loaded-jokes, the type I usually make to the gals if I am in my normal state of mind and they are playing along.

I have to change a starter on an Ford cargo van tomorrow at 10 so the delivery boys can take some goods to downtown. Stupid domestic cars and their parts that don't last long...at least its easy to get to...

Goodnight.

So im sitting in my dorm room on this wednsday afternoon smoking a little bit of shitty cannabis. I can hear my suite mate getting ready no doubt about to attend another party to drink and socialize enjoying no doubt the best years of his life. Myself I am sad that the phenazepam suboxe and pot have not put me in a better mood. It seems suicide is a constant thought in my mind for the last 2 years or so. Heroin has been my most loyal company during those years. Those where both the best and worst years of my life heroin addiction is a roller coaster and the ups are as amazing as the lows soul crushing.

I was sober for around 4 months from the smack before I began dabbling again 2 months ago. I intended a one off party a celebration of recovery if you will I simply cant bear the thought of never feeling that high again. Well the one time has turned into everytime I go home from college then switch back to subs while away on campus. I know im doomed im already mentally addicted right now is just the climb up the first hill of the coaster chain clanking halting and stopping but inexorably climbing to that inevitable peak. Then whoosh your at the bottom not even having time to properly enjoy the fall. I know I wont survive this ride I just hope it ends soon.

peace crimson

ffr

I pretty much document my life (to an extent) here on Blogs so I thought I would pose my question here since ya kinda get a feel for a person's personality and such. I kinda think people know me here in this tiny little corner of BL.

Tomorrow I will be 5 days clean and I need purpose. Yes, my primary purpose should be to stay clean but I need more.

I haven't been passionate about anything since a few years ago when I was a Technical Trainer for a large ISP. Now, nothing seems to intrique me at all.

I have problems with motivation for the simplest things and recently (within the last few months) have been experiencing anxiety. (I believe that the anxiety is triggered by confrontation and fear of being misunderstood)

Anyway, I'm the kind of person who needs to have a purpose, a cause. Something to fight for and believe in. Essentially, I need a passion otherwise... well, what's the point in anything then?

So, any suggestions as to what might intrique me and grab my interest?

I'm not working so money is an issue.

Any help would be appreciated in this area and any input would be cool to hear.

Thanks!

cant sleep clowns will eat me...

three 24 oz 8.1% hurricanes didn't do it, nor the hash. Went looking for a tricyc n found some antipsychs. Good ol' "repressitall". Ate 3 .5's 25 minutes ago. Very impatient. Did some quick searches but am not sure if it is a waste or not but I'm crushing and snorting another...


dreams of making it to school on time, just need sleep

Didn't really think about it. They were just passing around the blunt and I had some. I think it definitely lessened the euphoria and empathy of my roll, which is pretty disappointing.

just deleted my facebook account.. fuck "friends"


backstabbing liars.. fuck it

Wednesday, September 22, 2010


Snooping

Recently, I mentioned that my girlfriend, Aelys, snooped around in my browser history and found an interesting picture of a nude girl in bluelight's Lounge forum. After that, I didnt' know if she'd found my account name or password. My activity here is something I'd rather have her not know about, and I didn't know what to do. So, I've been laying low, too bugged out about my girlfriend's spying behavior to deal with anything online for a while.

Aelys' snooping, and to make matters worse, someone on here, I believe, is friends with my x-girlfiend, the lovely but tragically insane Psycho Suzie. Not only do I think she on here, but Suzie, in one of her 100s of voicemails that I will never answer, told me that she recently moved to the same city as me. I will refer to her "Moira." Moira is quite a lurker in real life and is the kind of person you would spot downtown somewhere. I dread that she will spot me walking down the street or on my bike and call back to Suzie and tell her what city I live in. Suzie keeps asking (leaving messages on my voicemail- I don't answer and havent' returned her calls for over a year) where I live and work. If Suzie finds out what city I'm in, she will find me.

Some background: Moira's dad is a psychiatrist, her mom is a divorced. She went to art shcool in San Francisco, got into opiates. Having no job prospects as an artist (my guess is that she wasted her college experience partying and didn't learn anything or develop any valuable skills), she went back to work in her hometown doing odd restaurant jobs and generally being a grifter and dope fiend. Then she came here with a boyfriend, living in her pickup truck at first, to have access to the abundant supply of opiates that this city has to offer. Moira and boyfriend were such fiends, that her boyfriend would maim himself (burned his hand on a stove, another time deliberately smashed his own leg, breaking it with a cinder block, for a script).

.... My gf had asked me to look at her computer and see why it's been slow recently. Sometimes when it boots, for example, it's extremely sluggish. Programs start slowly or hang, the web browser is very slow to respond. Words you type take several seconds from the time you finish pressing the keys until they are finally displayed.... Other times, when you just turn it on, it runs fine and is fast. The sluggishness really seems random, like maybe windows didn't load correctly. So I scanned for viruses with an av progrom and some trojan/spyware checking software, did the windows updates, checked system resources and processes, memory use, etc. I didnt' see any big problems that I thought could be causing it to malfunction. So, I'm not sure what's doing it. maybe the windows installation is broken and only works normally sometimes. Some bad system files possibly. This is somethint re-[installing windows should fix. Maybe it's a hardware problem. I tried swapping out the memory with some theat i know to be good, and I couldnt reproduce the sluggishness. So, maybe it's memory. but can't rule out hard drive glitches or bad capacitors or anythikgn yet.

So, while I was trying to fix it (it's workign fine for now), I snooped, just a little, on her browser history. I mentioned before that I believe snooping is extremely bad adn a violation of trust, but I did it. But I had her permission. She said she doesnt' care if I look. I still feel kind of bad for doing it. Mainly becasue she had snooped on me and and I have been worried that she'd been into my bluelgiht accoutn, even figured out what bluelight is. I didnt' even open her browser history. But I went to the url bar, her's has auto-completion feature where you type in the first 2 or 3 letters of a website and it will fill in the rest. So, I typed in "b", then "l", and then a "u". All that came up was the address for her univesity email account (I stayed out of it). But no bluelight. That and the fact that she hasn't started asking me about bluelight or asking me who the girl in the picture was are leading me to believe that she was so shocked at seeing the girl's photo in the Lounge section, that she didnt bother noticing the name of the website..
Anyway, that's as far as I went - using the auto-fill-in feature of the firefox address bar to snoop on her to try to see how far she has gone in snooping on me.

Monday, Sep 27

Music: Streaming SOMA FM. Music to slit your wrists by.

More snooping, the same way I did before. No spying on her browser histroy, jsut go into the address bar and type a few letters: b ... l.... u.... Nothign. Just the usual email account. I'm starting to think and feel some relief at the idea that she's not spying on my bluelight accoutn. Funny how the whole world, even Law Enforcement, can freely read this, but as long as I have soem degree of anonymity, that doesn't bother me as much as the idea that Aelys could be snooping without my knowledge.


What's with the Tents?

While walking through my neighborhood yesterday for a picnic, my girlfriend and I noticed that many of the houses had tents set up in their yards. The deign of the tents was similar and unusual. It's not something meant to be packed into a backpack and taken camping. Each one was built in the shape of a block.They were made from several tarps tied to a frame, were rectangular, about 8 feet high, 6 feet wide, and maybe 10 feet long. At least one of them had pine branches on the roof.

I would like to thank all of you for all the good reading about the new and old oxycontin pills. I took my scrip today to Walgreens and got the old kind of pills which were 40-on one side and o.c. on the other by Ethex. Thanks to all of you who told me about this. lovingitnow

My upstairs neighbors, insufferable bitches.

First, the one girl and her boyfriend had made it known to the rest to us of her prosperous sex life and coy-ishly didnt take kindly to our respectful request to not make our floor shake (for goodness sakes, wes all about getting freaky but the FLOOR seriously get a fucking bed you whore).

Then the cowboy boots on tile floor... no biggie we can "tolerate it" till 10pm.

THEN they flood our ceiling and we had to evac our house for a weekend and the repairs will begin after the first of the year (2 weeks plus not in our own beds).

At this point we are pretty fed up with their bullshit.

Particularly now with my poor ability to sleep consistently-- and over-all stress levels high.

Saturday night, 2 am, clunk clunk clunk, bang, boom clunk clunk. OK its a Saturday night. We hear all sorts of banging and clanging in the living room and bed rooms, as if they are wrestling.

We get over it, 9 AM, bright and early, Sunday morning- I hadn't fallen asleep until about 7am.

We are both joyously greeted by a hammer on our ceiling for a good hour and a half (why one would be so retarded to hammer on a TILE FLOOR??!??)). Even after myself getting on a ladder to pound on the ceiling (so hard in fact that i bruised my hand)- obviously displaying our displeasure.

It continues.

So I find this brilliant solution.

Turn up my logitech subwoofer- and jump on some Massive Attack! Mezzanine in particular.

The subwoofer is so loud, and me with such little sleep- my body goes into a bit of shock.

But the hammer stops.

We both assume the lesson was learned.

Until 2 am, those goddamn cowboy boots --- clunk clunk clunk, bang boom thud clunk clunk clunk. For an hour.

I am tempted to blast my subwoofer, but its so late, and its so loud. I brush it off with cursing under my breath and angry thoughts of hurting someone.

I wake up at 6:30 am today, no luck sleeping- I cant sleep when I am angry. But i decide to put together MGS's breakfast. As he is sleeping away- snoring. I hear those cowboy boots AGAIN.

I cant do anything.

Now, as I write this, 6 pm, I hear thudding. I am a wretch at this time, regardless of my lack of sleep. I put on Tricky this time, rich rich- yes.

Then move on to Sounds From The Ground, excellent. One of those dumb bitches comes down to my door and knocks away while I continue my sub. Fuck them.

After repeated kind requests (hey please dont make us feel like chicken little )and mentionings to their land lord about what a goddamn inconvenience their occupation has caused us ---I am through diplomatic discussions.

Its now nuclear war, but don't worry. I have 400 Gigabytes of Trance, Rock, Electronica, DnB, Tribal, Classical Music, Classic Rock.

Maybe I will get up tomorrow morning at 5:30 and put on Led Zeppelin, or better yet Delta 9-- or aw hell Ill get my ear plugs for Yoko.

Yoko... Oh .... No..

Normally I don't care much for dreams simply because I have poor recollection of them. Here I present two distinct dreams. The first was a recent dream this morning. It was an unorganized sequence of events, but yet extremely vivid and unusual. As pointless it might sound, the sequence of events were relatively similar to the delirium invoked by the nightshades plants of the Solanaceae genus. There were several similarities which were presented in a similar manner as the deliriousness presented from Scopolamine and Atropine (and similar analogues which pass the blood-brain barrier).
The similarities were:

1: An angel figure manifested in human form which was communicating directly with me and their words seemed to be that of divinity

2: In some events which contained a physical action my performance was extremely poor and I kept on forgetting what I was doing, and why; objects would appear, and disappear, it would fall into the ground and drag me down with it, and do this continuously (a common event in a majority of my dreams).

3: The scenery changed repeatedly. From one location to the next, and back and fourth.

The second dream happened some time ago, about a month ago I believe. I remember that I was attempting to take a nap when I was in the peak of a long, difficult period of insomnia. I had lay down on the couch in the middle of the afternoon and closed my eyes. I was at threshold unconscious when my pet cat kept meowing very loudly. So not only was I in 2nd stage sleep, there was constant noise which, of course is ignorable for my brain to process.

Anyway, onto the point.

The first dream (the one from today) I have no recollection of the order of the sequences but I will present the 2 halves which structured the dream.

The first, I was bowling. I was in the local bowling ally, which I have only been to twice in my life. I remember trying to shoot the bowling ball down the lanes, but every time I picked the bowling ball up I would put my hand in the wrong position. Like I would put my hand in backwards, or put the wrong fingers in the wrong holes; this kept on happening over, and over again, continuously. Sometimes in the middle of the cycle of constantly failing to hold the ball properly, I would drop the ball and it would fall and sink into the ground, and somehow end up with me failing to put my fingers in the holes again. Finally, I said "fuck it" and threw the ball down the lane. Of course, I missed by a longshot. What happened after I threw the ball? I find myself struggling to hold the same ball again!

The second sequence of the first dream: Suddenly the world around me changes into a meadow, a nice, lush green meadow. Possibly, and it reminds me of an open space at a provincial park that my father and I had gone camping at a few times in my childhood. In this location, I was looking up at a female figure with braided hair; she was a girl who I had known for a very seldom period named Amber. I had only talked to her maybe two-four times in my life, but each conversation was deep and meaningful (i will not elaborate in this blog). However, this was not what Amber actually looked like. She actually carried quite a contrary appearance in the dream to what she had looked like in reality. Anyway, she kept talking to me about something, although I cannot remember specifically what she was saying. She did, however begin to talk about her "new found lover" whom she was going to marry. I think she says he was an actor. Amber suddenly disappears, out of thin air; suddenly her lover shows up. He carries no name, and is just a figment of my own unconsciousness (I have never seen, or met this man in reality). He is a good looking man, he has glasses, a strong face and body, and he wears a red shirt. The point of view I'm is lying down and looking up at him. He has a white light surrounding him. He was telling me words which were very important, but I was in such awe that I couldn't understand what he was saying. He was a God in my eyes.

Suddenly, I wake up.

The second dream:
I was running through the woods, my laptop under one arm, my cat under the other. I had kept running downhill in great excitement and deep anticipation, as if when I had arrived in the bottom there would be some significant reward for me. When I had finally arrived at the bottom I was standing on a deserted, misty road, and on left and right sides there were houses which were on top of little hills right by the road. I remember my cat had fallen out of my arm and I kept thinking 'where the fuck is he? He was right here, don't tell me he's gone!' and I was fretting to find him. I look up and I notice him standing on a ledge (like a plank of some sort) looking into the distance. I pick him up and place him under my arm. By the time he's under my arm, I notice my laptop is missing too. I then say 'where the fuck did it go?' and it suddenly returns to me (Just a note: if anyone has read stories on Datura, a recurring event is people smoking cigarettes and then they just suddenly dissapear; it was very much like that, a truly frustrating feeling). With both my cat and laptop under my arm, I notice I'm lost but I look up and see a street sign saying "Pharmacy". I walk up to one of the houses and say 'could you please help me find Pharmacy and Mcnicoll?' (for those of you who live in Toronto, I'm sure you know where that is). A guy sitting on a chair looked at me and said something in a foreign language. I proceeded to keep walking. Soon thereafter, I ended up at a large stadium, and my friend Matt called out to me. I looked over and responded 'I know where the fuck I'm going, I really don't need your help'. His mother looked at me with shark eyes and just nodded her head, and by this point, I noticed my fucking cat was missing again. So I walk to the stadium (which was full of people) and say 'have any of you guys seen my cat?'. Of course, just as I say this my cat returns once again. I then said 'Do any of you know where Pharmacy and Mcnicoll is?'. Matt's sister shook her head 'no'. A Blonde lady, right on the second row right in front of me tapped her husband on the shoulder (a biker lookin' fella), but he was asleep, head down, snoring and drooling. She kept saying 'sweetie, sweetie' and eventually he wakes up. Just as her Man is about to say something, I wake up.

...and what it does to people in the short and the long term.

It is an insidious substance, state of mind, and lifestyle choice become an epidemic of herculean proportions. The great ripples of negativity its abuse leaves across all of civil society leaves me with a heavy heart and soul.

To everyone I have ever known and loved who was and might still be using it to the point of self-annihilation: I wish you the best. But I must now leave, because trying to love you is entirely too hard on me.

Not being able to scale the walls you've built around your body and soul leaves me no choice but to turn away. I need to be able to fight the good fight another day.

Today is Friday, August 20, 2010 and it is now 1218 PM here in the South Bronx, New York City, USA.

Recap: I was talking about how some Filipinas scam sad white men online.

This entry: I am sitting at a table in the Mott Haven Branch of the New York City Public Library, reveling in all the printed materiel. As small as this library is it is almost heaven after the last couple of months in the Philippines. Even the most isolated part of that country has fluent English speakers but apart from a couple of tiny 1 person stalls in malls, and only then in the biggest of cities can one find English books. For that matter, there aren't that many book stores in native languages either.

I am reading a travelogue about the Mid East. I love seeing the region through the eyes of foreigners but only those who truly immerse themselves in the disparate cultures and Peoples. I have a habit of reading several books at the same time, switching as the fancy strikes me. Today I am only reading 2 books, the other being a huge compendium on Liberation Theology.

For those unaware, Liberation Theology is a distinctly left wing ideology where religious Catholics use their Catholicism to support (usually) violent liberation movements (easiest way to describe it).

If anyone used to read my BL Journal they might recall a time I took my (then) 8 year old sister-in-law Marian to a show at the Mt.Carmel Catholic Church, the village church in San Franz (San Francisco), our town in Mindanao. A Carmelite institution, usually staffed with foreigners, it also runs Mt.Carmel College, Rizza's alma mater, a K through 12th grade school (as well as the rest of the family)...though "12th Grade" is a bit of a misnomer since the Philippine School System is a 10 year system ( that is how I was able to marry Rizza when she was 15,and still have married her after she entered university). They are considering a change, but I doubt that will ever happen.

The show was by the Philippine celebrity Che Che Guitterez. As we entered the sanctuary, where the show was taking place, I couldn't help but notice how empty the pews were. Like most churches in the rural areas there, the outer walls were painted cinder blocks with circular arpertures,as much for decoration as for utility since they allow air to circulate freely.

All along the walls were brown faces pressing themselves into those openings as hard as they possibly could. Tickets had cost 600 Pesos, roughly 13 US Dollars, half a weeks pay for most... and most don't work.

I expected the priest, in this case a Filipino, to allow these poor and desperate people to enter once the show began. After all, once the show started they wouldn't be able to make any more money, right?

The slide show began, cheesy music and spoken word in Tagalog, a language not really understood in the south, even though it is basically the national language and a mandated subject in every school.

The doors stayed shut. I felt as if I wanted to beat that priest, to beat him bloody and shove his face through those openings, make him see what I was seeing. He was blind to his surroundings, most are but sometimes, very rarely a priest or Church Lay Worker comes, and they are touched. More than a couple have run off into the bush and joined the rebels. The most famous was Father Navarro, "The Barefoot Priest." He was especially noteworthy for coming from one of the island's richest families, the Navarro Clan of Surigao de Norte Province.

In my last entry, in Comments, Mariposa asked me why I hate Americans. I could answer any number of ways but my particular reason THEN related to something I sadly discovered about 3 weeks ago, in Quezon City, the part of Metro Manila where Jackie lives.

I had sought out a doctor to "write" for me. I have enough morphine, fentanyl and oxycodone to last maybe 3 years. Being the addict that I am, it is not enough. I can never feel secure unless I have an open conduit in obtaining these substances.

I finally found a doctor with the neccessary S2 Liscence, which allows him to write prescriptions for "Dangerous Drugs," in this case opiates/opioids. He was most obliging, to the point where he looked as if he was going to start crying. Why was he sad? He was ready and willing to write for me BUT was UNABLE. In late 2009 some fucken dickhead from Boston, 28 years old (I will leave his name alone, he has enough problems) decided he was going to do the same thing, only he didn't give a shit about anyone but himself.

He fucked the 2 doctors who obliged him, the pharmacy where he filled it, and 3 staff members of that pharmacy. He was getting massive amounts of Oxycontin (we have a French brand, Mundipharma, in the country). He had the doctors who were very naive, give him a bunch of scripts. He had them put the same date on all of the scripts, then filled them all on the same day at the same pharmacy!

Fast forward 4 months and the renewal of the pharmacy's Liscence. An auditor went over the books and of course notices this huge aberration. Then, he discovered that after that date the guy continued going to the pharmacy but didn't worry about prescriptions, getting the tabs over the counter.

All the people involved caught indictments including this dickhead American, but of course he happened to have left the country. It doesn't take much creativity OR effort to go to 8 or 9 pharmacies, or to stagger scripts, datewise.

Quezon City is tight as a drum now though I have yet to find about other parts of the Metro area. I have a gnawing feeling that other areas will have heard about this, especially pharmacies since only 1 retail chain carries opiates/opioids in the entire nation! Hospital Pharmacies charge twice as much, but hey, better than an American street corner, right?

Today is Saturday, September 25, 2010 and it is 705AM here in the South Bronx, New York City, in the US.

Recap: I spoke about an experience I had had on Mindanao maybe 2 years ago,and then went on to talk about some asshole American with an Oxycodone (Oxycontin) jones who raped Manila and ruined several lives all for his personal vice.

This Post: It has been an interesting (almost) 5 weeks since my last entry. I was back in the Philippines for 12 days, and in Israel for 4 days.

Jackie had missed 3 days of IMing and I became very concerned. Before I had left for NY in August I had beatn 1 of her neighbours very badly. The panty thief, the "secret admirer" who had been texting her got drunk and fucked up his game, admitting to Cris (Jackie's friend who had been staying with her in the house I rented) who he was,etc. I do believe I mentioned that admission in a past entry. I was prepared to let it go,Jackie isn't my woman but I have taken it upon myself to be responsible for her (for at least 1 year) and that includes her safety, naturally. Going to Jackies though, I saw him and 2 other losers drinking rotgut in the corner of the compound where Jackie's house sits. Snickering,he made a comment in Tagalog, calling me a queer.

I really didn't have a choice as I saw it and beat him bloodily. Ergo 3 days with no IM and I was more than concerned. Neither answering her phone OR texts I was considering what to do. Afterall, I was in NY. Then,on the 4th day,Cris who had returned home to Mindanao IMd me.

She began by berating me.I patiently waited for her to finish her tirade and then calmly asked her what was wrong. She said she thought I was a good man but she had been wrong,afterall she said, I let Jackie take a job as a maid.

A maid in the Philippines is not far removed from a slave. For example,in Jackie's case,as I soon found out, she was working 7 days a week,from 530AM until 930PM and though given free meals was sharing a room with an elderly maid for the whopping renumeration of 62US a month.

Jackie coincidentally contacted me the next day, via IM. I asked her how things were going and why I hadn't heard from her in 3 days.She told me she ran low on money and couldn't get a "load" (internet phone data minutes),and apologised.

I played my card. I asked her how she liked being a maid. She was shocked. She started stammering excuses,saying it was for me, so I wouldn't have to support her.

Fine I said,its her life,what did she do with the house I rented? She said she had told the owner she was moving and had gotten the deposit refunded and bought Cris' ticket with it...after I had warned Jackie NOT to give Cris money.

I told Jackie that she's a fucken liar (well that's old news) & to enjoy her life as a slave.

Meanwhile, I had to go for my twice monthly visit to Mindanao. On my flight to Manila I met an old friend of mine. I won't drop his name here for obvious reasons but he is a Kennedy School academic specialising in terrorism and suicide bombing. I had met him in 2005 when he served with the American Special Forces contingent based in Zamboanga City's Camp Navarro, as an American Special Forces Jr.Grade Officer. A Special Forces officer who then rapidly became a recognised expert in his field, I admire him a lot. He told me he was going to Pampanga,to Angeles City,on the island of Luzon, the island where Manila and Makati are located.

Angeles borders Clark, the old US Air Base that was vacated when Mt.Pinutabo but is best known as the Sex Capital of SE Asia.Fields Avenue in the city is world famous for that.

What happens there is that there are umpteenth strip clubs, though its much different than in the West. Legally women canot bare it all,so instead they wear thongs,or skimpy costumes. Men come in,buy a drink for them and,if they want,they pay 1500 Pesos (32US) as a "Barfine." Barfine is the house commission for what will take place. Barfine paid you go to a hotel or whatever and pay up to 1500 Pesos more to have sex.

He was going not for sex but to visit a woman he had met when he served in the south.

I told him I would think about it and let him know in a couple of days.

To be continued..

Perhaps a week and a half ago I was, as they say, 'Happy, Joyous and Free'. Since then, this has changed. I'm noticing that I am extremely angry, judgmental and hypocritical.

I am either doing something new or am NOT doing something that I once was. I'm unsure. Something is going on within myself that I can't put my finger on.

I honestly believe that I was a kinder person when I was using and I don't get it. I'm doing things differently now in a good way but feel bad on the inside.

I am very edgy lately and walk around with a chip on my shoulder. Why? Isn't it enough for me that I'm not in pain anymore? What happened to my plans on getting involved in volunteer work? Why do I go to meetings wanting to punch a motherfucker in the head?

I made three meetings today. One from 11 am to 1 pm, one from 7:30 to 9 and another from 10 to 11:15. I don't even leave the meeting to take a piss, I can't afford to miss a word.

My sponsor has me reading 'Who is an addict?' every day for 30 days and I am 11 days into that assignment. If I miss a day, I start over.

I am 9 days into my 90 meetings in 90 days. This is my third or fourth attempt since being discharged from rehab. If I miss a day, I start over.

I give newcomers (like me) rides to meetings and have developed a camaraderie with two dudes that I hang out with on a daily basis and go to meetings with.

I buy folks coffee and cigarettes even though I only work 5 hours a week.

I exercise like a motherfucker. This used to make me feel good but now it only strokes my ego because I am noticing that I am looking good now. I need to look good because I want to be someone's ideal physically, mentally and emotionally.

WHAT AM I MISSING? I must be missing something or doing the right thing for the wrong reason SOMEWHERE in this thing.

I kinda think that I need to NOT hang with the newcomer but if I do that I will only have MY opinion of myself which will always be biased.

Perhaps that is the problem. Others don't think I'm as great as I think I am and this bothers me?

I think I'll print this out and share it with my sponsor.

I NEED TO GET WELL but people tell me its a slow process and that as an addict I want what I want RIGHT NOW.

Perhaps I am just experiencing growing pains?

I know that I don't like how I'm feeling because it just doesn't seem right.

Fuck, I dunno.

the walking personification of my failed relationships

i need to reset my brain

any outta town ers in lexington for the games in need of any assistance, feel free. and welcome to Ky:D

I used to be pretty fuckin' slick. Always on-point, walking around with my dick swingin' proud.

That shit stopped a few years ago. I'm real close to 40 years old and I'm beat the fuck down and worn the fuck out.

So, this thing I'm doing, chasing distractions from myself is winding down. Definitely coming to an end. How it ends is vague but I can determine the severity of the negative aspects of this surrender.

But I won't.

I'll just let it run to its natural end. That kinda end is never pleasant. At the least it will be the revelation of realities and the severity of my 'sickness' to those I care about and this will hurt them. At the worst... well, we know that fuckin' answer all too well, don't we?

I can't even believe how bad I have let it progress but I can't do a fuckin' damn thing about it.

That fuckin' need is there and always will be. I can't fight it so why the fuck bother? I gota surrender to the fact that this game is fuckin' rigged. That monster is a meaner mother fucker than I will ever be. My monster is still walkin' around with its dick swingin'. Me? I'm broke the fuck down.

Yeah, its approaching the end. For some reason I think it will be positive regardless of all the negative that's gonna happen.

Ain't so fuckin' slick, now.

Really not sure if I ever was.

i'm really sick. i've been pushing it off for a while because i've been broke/spending all my money on beer. i smoked way too many bongs last night. my throat burns. i'm an idiot. the doctor is going to punch me in the face when she sees how bad i let myself get. eh. i got an appt in two weeks. hopefully it doesn't get any worse.

i'm addicted to getting fucked up in general. it's strange. i tried not drinking for a week and that didn't work out. i lasted a day. and i ate half a morphine pill that day. that's the thing, i alway spread my stash out like a little meiser. i take the lowest amount possible so it lasts me forever. i'm back at the point that i feel like i NEED things to be social again. and that sucks. i dabble in the benzos once in a while but not too much because i have that fear of going through withdrawal again in the back of my mind. cool, thanks withdrawal. at least you did something besides fucking suck. my new interest this past week has been vicodin. i just love pills. it blows. i think because it does ALMOST the same thing as drinking in the social aspect but i don't get sloppy. anxiety is a whore. i just took some cold meds and i felt them doing their thing in my stomach and i LIKED that feeling. most people probably don't even notice that feeling. well, at least i realize it's a bad thing.

i broke up with my boyfriend like 2 weeks ago. he wants to meet up tonight and 'talk' ...all i can think is FIND THAT KPIN NOW. i don't want a relationship, i don't need to be bringing him down with me. he says we can help each other because he's the same way i am, almost. but i'm thinking we should get our shit together for ourselves first. i have a feeling he's gonna move back to philly after i tell him this. that would suck, he's my best friend.

people come, people go. gotta keep remembering that. man, i'm bumming myself out. i only have 2 bucks and some change. that sucks. maybe that's why i'm here writing this blog instead of on a mission. eh.

i just remembered one of the first times i rolled: it was NYE (12/31/04) and we were all partying at this dude's crib (friend of a friend) back in my hometown. there were probly like 10 of us there, including dude's mom. she was so barred up and drunk that at multiple times during the night, when we were blowing up out of our minds, she asked us if we wanted any sandwiches. almost exactly like the grandma from Bad Santa. she had them made and everything. my depth perception was so fucked i couldn't even light a blunt, let alone eat a fucking sandwich, lol. EAT A SANDWICH? even if i said 'yes', i probly would have completely forgotten said sandwich, seconds after the agreement. i was on 200mg MDMA minimum and this lady, this dude's mom, is asking me if i want a sandwich...eyes rolled back in my skull...at like 3 in the morning...on NYE...lol. classic.

Fuck youuu.....thass all...lmao..

I have in reality very little clean time. Today isn't a bad day but all I can think about, smell and FUCK I'm drink Chi why does it FUCKING taste like coke!??

I've got the cash where's my shit!

Heh yeah and I'm going to go pick up my daughter in oh yeah five minutes and don't forget open house tonight. Now how can I squeeze in those bags..will they notice if I have to run to the bathroom more often?

So..time to walk..pretend that I'm okay.

Back when I was doin' the corporate thing rather well (i was clean) my Director asked me how I would define the difference between 'Intelligence' and 'Wisdom'.

I replied that 'Wisdom' was applied 'Intelligence'.

Check this out... I NEVER realized that I have a huge crew of folks that are lookin' out for me. These folks have HEART and they have 'Intelligence' and 'Wisdom'.

Its a real feel good thing for me and it puts things in perspective and kinda has started many positive processes.

Yeah, I'm grateful. Who would have realized, man? When you are at your worst, people step up and lend their strength. Man, that's cool as shit. That's service to others. I'm VERY grateful for this, man.

Its tick tocking away quickly. I'm gonna get back to being me again, man. I still need to borrow some of that strength ya got right about now though