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Sometimes I just don't know who I am
Days change, things change, I change
Each day I wake up I can never be sure
how things will go
I am all over the place
One day I am who I want to be
next day she is who she wants to be
it never is the same

Today is Saturday, July 24, 2010 and it is now 1233AM here in Makati, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: I was sitting in Butuan Airport on Mindanao waiting to fly back here.

This Entry: My flight actually took off on time which is very rare here, all the more so with one of the world's worst airlines, Cebu Pacific, doing the flying. Even if the airline was punctual, and granted very few ever are, something very cheesy about them trying to sell you trinkets like pens and memo pads along with a can of soda for what amounts, literally, to a day's wage for a working man here.

All that is academic when it comes to their customer service finesse. It is truly maddening and I am someone who flew in the Eastern Bloc in the 80s!

Here in Makati, part of Metro Manila, we have 2 airports, 1 for International, 1 for Domestic. Cebu Pacific has a large counter in the Domestic which is actually 2 buildings, a small terminal and 1 for the counters. If you are flying OUT of the capitol you go to the counter for check-in. Not a problem one would imagine. I am a person who is anal about punctuality. When I have a flight I arrive at a terminal roughly 8 hours before check-in even begins. Cebu-Pacific proves that my habit is intelligent.

For a 10AM Departure, the ticket counter, neigh, the entire building opens at 830AM. At 915 or so, the clerks stop their bullshitting and man their 2 PC terminals. By this time there are literally at least 200 people crowing a 12 meter counter, waving ticket recipts, screaming in a cacophany of languages (including dialects there are well over 100 spoken on 7,107 islands here). You should see the dumbfounded Westerners waiting patiently, imagining a line somehow exists.

Me? I am Israeli hahaha. I push through loudly and menacingly hissing, "Excuse Me" with my gameface on full. I have always gotten through.

Still, that means nothing becayse when I get there I am dealing with absolutely fried clerks. "Sir, this ticket is invalid. Your passport says 'Rachamim Ra'anan Ben Ami' but your ticket says, 'Rachamim Raanan Ben-Ami'."

Rachamim: "Yes love, my language doesn't use Latin letters like English."

ClerkCondescendingly) "Sir, it doesn't have Latin, it is English."

R: "Yes, but English uses Latin letters."

C: "(Disdainfully) Sir, I am an edicated woman. I have a Bachelor's Degree and I know very well the difference between Latin and English!"

*As all this is transpiring the cacophany grows louder, people are pushing harder, this is SE Asia and pickpockets DO operate and above all my plane is set to lift off in 20 minutes!*

Rachamim: "Ma'am, look, is there a Supervisor whom I might speak to?"

Clerk: "Yes sir. He is in our Cebu office, his phone number is...and you may call on Monday because on weekends he is off."

R: "Aaaah...."

*I then palm a 5 US bill, and palming it hold out my hand and offer to "pay the penalty" and tell her not to worry about the receipt.

All works out. People say the Philippines is the most corrupt nation in SE Asia but I can assure you that THAT honour belongs to Cambodia, hands down. When you cross from Thailan, into the country at Poi Pet they actually have professionally made signs on the wall of the Immigration lean-to (actually a lean-to), that tell you that the costs of visas are 10 US higher than they actually are.

I love to read travel websites and see kids talking bullshit about how they forced the officer (only 1 there) to provide the visa at its actual cost (20 for Tourist, 25 for Business though I heard they might have raised them). I smile reading them knowing they are full of shit.

Oh, you CAN argue it down to the correct price but when you get that cute little blue stamp atop the paper visa they glue in on a whole fucken page, it will be the incorrect stamp, bet your bottom Dollar.

Imagine, time to depart, you go back over land and get there with 2 hours before the lean to's combination lock goes back on, and the border will be closed for the next 2 days to celebrate the King's (pick the nation, Cambodia OR Thailand) hemorroid crawling back up his arse or some non-sensical event. You arrive on your snazzy tourist bus. You walk the kilometer through all the fucken hyper-aggresive touts, hauling your 30 pounds of uneccessary shit and that same officer , for the first time in a week cracks a smile. He nods to his 3 touts, the civlians working for the local syndacite, who "help" tourists to fill in the simple applications, included in the extra 10US "fee." They look at you sternly and say, "Solly, diss stamp not good, no-no."

Backpacker: "Well mate, what do I do?"

Tout:"You muss go back Pnohm Penh, get stamp."

BP: "Wait! You gave me the wrong stamp, why do I have to go back?"

T: "Law, you muss go, NOW!"


Ahhhhh, so go ahead smart fuck, save your tenner, brag about it at "Happy Pizza" or the patio at "#9" and then deal with it in fucken Poi Pet, the most depressing city in the region, for about 5 days.

Getting the stamp is possible in PP before heading back, IF you are smart, and it will only cost you 75US, and the 4 US back and forth on the back of a moped to Immigration on Russian Blvd by the airport.

The way I look at it? Yes, 10 IS 5 days pay to a lot of folks there so it DOES represent a nice sum BUT, its being smeared over dozens of hands. That officer pays touts, he pays supervisors, organised crime figures and so on. He is not banking very much of it, maybe half a Dollar per? And what does the 10 represent to you? In PP you pay 3 to 15 US a night for your digs, 5 a day for food, so think rationally, it factors in fine.

Especially when you buy a gramme of solid white #4, uncut for about 5 US per!

Dumb tourists...

Anyway, airports suck, no doubt. I got back to Makati, jumped in a trike out on the street, and came back here. Jackie wanted to come over but I begged off.

Thinking of moving her to a slightly nicer home, men are bothering her there she says. A nice subdivision not to far from where she is, in Barangay Tandag Sora. The new house is 4,000 Pesos a month, currently Im paying 2800 (1000 = about 18 US) so its not really going to mater to me, let her be safe.

Went to Chabad House here, just opened a couple of months ago in Salcedo Village, the district next to mine in Makati. The 1 Jewish Community in this country is crammed into Salcedo. Chabad is a Hebrew acronym that isn't capitalised for some reason, means, "Knowledge, Wisdom, Understanding" and is a programme of the Lubavitcher Chassidim (Hassidic). They try to provide a religious observant environment for Jews abroad and sometimes are the only source for Jewish food in a region (they have it flown in). I go for the food, I dig Ashkenazi food (what they call "Deli" in the US). They also have Mizrachi food, the food we eat in Israel because of so many IDF on walkabout (the gap year after 3 years mandatory service all Jewish men in Israel go through).

Today is Wednesday, July 28, 2010 and it is now 621AM here in Makati, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: I had been discussing the Philippine Dope Scene, then meandered into a pedantic explanation of the Heroin Numbering System, another true blue American invention.

This Entry: "Mexican Tar Heroin" is usually considered as a class onto itself despite its technically meeting the threshold for #4 Heroin, heroin hcl.

Most people, including, amazingly, many forensic chemists, believe that Tar is manufactured by acetylysing opium. It is not, but before I explain THAT fallacy, I ought to explain acetylysation;

Heroin is merely a vehicle for the delivery of morphine. Most people do not realise this, but heroin, diacetylmorphine, is inactive in the human body! Once heroin is ingested, within 90 seconds your body has converted it to 6-MAM, a substance I will discuss, and then even more quickly to morphine, the substance you actually feel.

How does morphine become heroin? By adding water, a glacial acetic acid and heating, in reflux, the sugars in morphine actetylyse, creating diacetylmorphine, heroin. This change in structure increase lipid solubility so that the substance is able to cross the BBB (Blood to Brain Barrier) 3 times more efficiently than unacetylated morphine. In other words, making morphine into heroin allows morphine to do its job 3 times better than it would untouched.

When morphine crosses the BBB it almost immediately reverts to morphine, so, heroin simply serves as a more efficient way to get the morphine where it needs to go, this is why, most of the time, you are tested for morphine when tested for heroin in your system, etc. You can sometimes be tested for the afore mentioned 6-MAM which is ONLY found after the consumption of heroin, but 6-MAM is out of your body, entirely, within 20 hours of conversion from heroin.

So THAT is acetylysation, and that is why morphine goes through acetylysation.

The belief that Tar is acetylated opium seems like it makes good common sense. After all, heroin IS made from opium, and both have the same black latex appearance and consistency.

The problem though is that it does not make common sense at all. Opium averages a morphine content of 10%, and the highest recorded content in history was a sample with 23%, and that was only one time. So, if opium is used, and is converted directly into heroin, the highest purity Tar Heroin could ever have would be 23% with the vast majority being 10% pure. Tar IS an impure form but still clocks purities in the 80th percentile from time to time.

How can you make 80% pure heroin directly from opium? How does 10% morphine turn into 80% heroin? It can't, and it won't, ever.

The key to Tar is the acetylation process and agent, as well as the omission of 2 of the 4 manufacturing steps.

Step I) With the normal process you take opium and separate morphine from it, then crystallise it, all very crudely. When making Heroin #1 (which as we discussed earlier is not even heroin at all but rather morphine hcl) the extraction is done meticulously, but that is very rare.

Step II) You convert morphine freebase (or hcl in the case of Heroin #1) into heroin acetate, a crude salt.

Step III) Heroin acetate is converted to Heroin freebase, Heroin #2.

Step IV) Heroin freebase is converted to the hydrochloric salt.

Ideally the salt will be purified via 1 or 2 methods (decolourisation via activated charcoal and filtration and/or ether and alcohol treatments) but in today's world,sadly, it often isn't.

With Tar, morphine freebase is extracted from opium. THEN this freebase is acetylysed. Steps II and III are left by the wayside. The acetylysation process though is the real key.

Though any GAA (glacial acetic acid) will acetylyse morphine, using different acids will produce different characters in the finished product. Ideally AA (acetic anhydride is used), but Tar almost always utilises AC (acetyl chloride). While this produces a particular character, I will first look at 2 other aspects that result from this abbreviated process;

Acetylysation is done in reflux. "Reflux," in short, is a tightly controlled environment where mositure and oxegyn are not allowed in and out at will. Not being actual labs, and usually not actually chemists themselves, manufacturers utilise a crude reflux apparattus. Taking a large cooking pot, the powderised morphine freebase (or hcl.), water and GAA is combined. A rubber gasket is lain over the top, and then the lid. To firmly create a seal a c-clamp is used and tightened all the way.

With Tar, AC is used in place of AA, and no gasket or c-clamp are used so that reflux isn't achieved. Additionaly, time isn't optimised so that full acetylysation doesn't take place. While most morphine IS converted to heroin, the less than optimal acetylation produces marked metabolite characterisation. In short, the extra-crude process used in Mexico causes the heroin to have predictable amounts of 6-MAM and another metabolite, 3-MAM (both of which I will discuss shortly).

Substances ingested metabolise, they change in a reaction with the human body. With drugs, sometimes these new substances, or "metabolites," are "active," meaning that they have a marked reaction on body and/or mind...or else they are "inactive," having no discernible effect.

One active metabolite specific to heroin, 6-Monoacetylmorphine (6-MAM), is actually more powerful than heroin. Heroin, as I stated, is merely a delivery vehicle for morphine itself. Heroin is worthless as a drug itself because the acetylation which allows much greater pentration of the Blood to Brain Barrier also prevents the diacetylmorphine (heroin) from getting hold of the relevant binder. This is why everything you, or someone else feels when using heroin is related to the morphine carried with THAT heroin.

This failure to bind cannot be mitigated but let us imagine there was a way. We would still have a 2nd insurmountable hurdle to deal with in that heroin's half life is a mere 90 seconds. "Half Life" is the avg.time it takes a substance to leave a human body.

Ergo, if heroin's half life is 90 seconds, heroin is gone within 3 minutes of consuming it.

6-MAM, as I said specific to heroin (not found in morphine, duh), is created naturally in degradation, and itself degrades very quickly as well. Other than that natural degradation creating it, it is also created via a process called "Hydrolysis." Hydrolysis takes place when a substance, susceptible to the dynamic, comes into contact with moisture...Conversely, if acetylysation takes place without benefit of reflux the requsite moisture is burned off/evaporates. This will give you less 6-MAM than heroin produced in reflux.

This leaves Tar with an anabnormally low percentage of 6-MAM, always.

On the other hand, Tar will always have abnormally high 3-MAM content. This is due from insufficient acetylysation. The use os acetyl chloride, insufficient time and temperature prevents a total conversion of morphine to diacetylmorphine (heroin).

Reflux also plays a part here but by adjusting time and temprature upwards the deficiencies caused by acetyl chloride can be overcome. Sadly, Mexican producers just do not get the point. By now the process is so well entrenched that I suspect Tar is here to stay, unfortunately.

"Homebake" is produced sans reflux, with different GAAs but the only REAL difference there is that O-demethylation is sometimes used to net morphine from a codeine precursor.

In addition, when Dicodin used to be used as a precursor the end product would be red or pink tar, but those rare times that Homebake still appears one sees only brown and black tar, since Dicodin is extinct.

I will continue...

(Edited for spelling)

Sitting on the back yard patio listening to ambient-radio.de streaming "chromanova FM ambient and chillout."
Today was one of the first hot days of the year. got up into the low 90s.
The falcon is tethered to its post across the yard from where I sit with my laptop. It keeps looki0ng at me. It just made a baby-bird squack and spread its wings.

Sat night: Drank a coule of glasses of grapefruite juice, then ate some capsules of kratom extract. Unless it is put into capsules, the taste is too bitter to bear. Makes me want to vomit.After about 1 hour, I started to get an actual nod off it.This lasted a couple of hours. The whole time, had some dream sequences that were opiate-like in their vividness and abruptness, I cat really remember. Flashes of real-world imagery. Often of poeple I didn't recognize doing mundane things. Some nature scenes. One was of a beach that ran along high cliffs like those at Marin Headlands.Itchy the whole tiem.
I went for a bike ride today and came back to a bad scene. My gf met me as soon as I walked in the door.

gf: So Socko, I found some lingerie in your stuff this afternoon.

socko: !!
socko: What did you find?
gf: Panties!
Socko: I don't have any panties.
gf: They're Psycho Suzie's (Psycho Suzie was my last gf) arent' they! Why are you saving HER panties?
socko: Where were they?
gf: In one of your boxes of tools by the cat litter. Theyr'e HERS!
socko: They are not. I know what you found. Calm down.
gf Why do you still have your X's panties?
socko: Theyre not hers.
GF: WHAT?!

socko:What you found was an old rag in one of my crates of tools. It was being used as a tie-down to hold together a box of socket fittings. (I had gotten them from a box of miscellanious rags that the previous tenants had left in the basment. I was using rags from that box mostly for cleaning the grease off my bicycle chain, cleaning the toilet, etc... The rag in question was about the right size to use to tie a small socket box shut.]]
GF: BLAH BLAH BLAH!@!!@!@ BLAH BLAH BLAH!@!!@!@BLAH BLAH BLAH!@!!@!@They're Psycho Suzie's and you've been keeping them!@
socko: Wrong. If you dont' believe me, look at the size of them. THey are way too big, like size 4 or something. Psycho Suzie was wore size 2, I think.
gf: BWAHHH! [at this point she burst into tears] I'm fat, am I? I wish I could wear a size 4.


It's been a few hours, and she's still mad at me. I'll be sleeping in the back yard tonight. She wont' even let me sleep i nthe basement this time.

So me and my ex girlfriend and this hella cute girl ive liked for quite some time, had a 3 some while we were doing this i was taking large amounts of GBL because i couldnt feel the effects.

i went through 3/4's of a 1oz bottle.

We were done.. started to feel it.. drove her to her house next apartment complex, and then i passed out in the car.


Next thing i know is theirs people screaming and yelling im trying to back up there ambulances firetrucks cops the works... im like FUCK i know this is a red zone but shit.

They pulled me out asked what i was on.. i said nothing im fine..while falling out.. that went on for 20 minutes they asked where the needle was, which there was a HUGE FUCKING SYRINGE in my car from my friend who left it there.

They hand cuffed me found the GBL my friends said it was massage oil they gave it back i went to the hospital and woke up with needles in my arms and all kinds of shit...Shitty day with GBL 5 months ago.




P.S. I had a Under the influence citation when i woke up, went to court, Name wasn't on the list. They couldn't Find shit in my blood or piss. The DA said they were waiting for the Drug test results still.

She generally gave herself very good advice, (though she very seldom followed it), and sometimes she scolded herself so severely as to bring tears into her eyes; and once she remembered trying to box her own ears for having cheated herself in a game of croquet she was playing against herself, for this curious child was very fond of pretending to be two people. `But it's no use now,' thought poor Alice, `to pretend to be two people! Why, there's hardly enough of me left to make one respectable person!'

CATERPILLAR: Who are you? ALICE:Why, I hardly know, sir. I've changed so much since this morning, you see...
CATERPILLAR: No, I do not C, explain yourself.
ALICE: I'm afraid I can't explain myself, you see, because I'm not myself, you know.
CATERPILLAR: I do not know.
ALICE: I can't put it any more clearly, sir, because it isn't clear to me.


Going through this psychological withdrawal is certainly leaving me feelings very much like Alice in Wonderland. I hope it will end soon!

(doesn't belong in the lounge, guess I'll store it here cause I see it being deleted soon heh)

I've been in this Facebook war with someone I grew up with for a few days now. It's been so epically pointless you have no idea lol It's gone from fate to religion to drugs. And when it got to drugs and drug research I got HEATED So I thought I'd share and this seemed like the right place =p

Here's just the last couple back-and-forths about drugs. To catch you up, the girl decided to tell me to get a job and try going to school, to which I responded (and I'm paraphrasing here) Bitch- I'm double majoring to be on the cutting edge of reemerging research fields so I can HELP PEOPLE, wtf do you do, work in a call center? (Lucky guess!) Ended up getting into a debate and she took up the 'all drugs are bad and if you do them your bad nothing good can come from drugs' blah blah blah stance. And I tried getting her to look at the MAPS page just as a start.. no luck 'drugs are bad mmmkay'... Keep in mind I was never trying to defend recreational use or anything like that, just their inherent medical / psychiatric values.

-> ok, now in steps douche nozzle boy friend who (WHOOPS!) also works in a call center lol I'm just coping from then on:


Douche Nozzle- I work in a call center and I make damn good money because I'm good at what I do. The difference is that I passed a drug screening and background check which some people don't have privilege to say.


DragynFyr- way to make the world a better place?

Douche Nozzle- Hmmm. Not sure how a statement can be a question all at the same time. On the other hand, the world would be a better place if people didn't find excuses left and right to use and abuse drugs and thinks that society accepts them.



DragynFyr- Guess what, the 'society' that shunned 'drugs' for racist baseless reasons is dying off and all the modern world is (re)accepting their positive benefits. (Humans have used them spiritually for 10's of thousands of years don't forget.)

MAPS.ORG ! Thumb through that for a second and see what the DEA and FDA are accepting as facts.

The world would be a better place if close minded ignorant folk would pick up a book about drugs that was printed by someone other than their DARE officer in the sixth grade before they formed an opinion on something they frankly seem to know -dick- about.

Drug USE and ABUSE are two very different things mind you

And the question mark was added because I didn't know if you were trying to feel special about yourself because you could pass a drug test, as if that makes you better than someone who chooses to expand their consciousness rather than deaden it with the 'societal standard' alcohol.

And any responsible user would easily pass a background test. Lets face it, all drug testing does is keep marijuana users out of some positions, you could be working side by side with plenty of crack heads who would only need to put down their pipe for 1-3 days to pass a drug test, where your typical MJ user requires 30-45 days... Just don't think it makes ya all that special is all =) Crack heads can do it too.


Douche Nozzle- Why are you defending crackheads? They ABUSE drugs. Society will always look down upon drug users. Further more, my hard earned money gets taxed so that the drug users can take advantage of welfare and get a free ride. I don't need a chemical to make me feel good. I make the right choices and have loving friends and family who I have a good time with.
And you're right- crackheads can pass drug tests, but they don't last at jobs. And then they go on welfare/unemployment because they choose to lower themselves, society won't accept that! I hate having to support scum. How do you feel that 90% of your taxes (if you have a job) are taken to support people like *Douche Nozzles Girl*'s sister, *****, who does NOTHING to better themselves?

DragynFyr- Where did I defend crack heads? I simply said a crack head could easily impersonate a person like yourself and passing a drug test was not something to feel special about.

Society will not always look down upon 'drug users' (a term simply dripping with ignorance btw). Have you read a news paper in the last year? Does "California" ring a bell? That is the tip of the iceberg, the whole country is going to follow suit. Take a brief minute to put down the bible and study shamanism and indigenous cultures use of ethnogenic substances throughout the entire history of man kind. If you believe in a GOD then you must believe he placed every plant here for a reason. Certain PLANTS - let me be real slow here,- I'm not supporting empty useless drugs like crack- certain PLANTS have very useful characteristics- whether you've been too brainwashed into fear to admit it or not.
Again, there is a huge difference between drug users and abusers.. but your DARE acquired fear doesn't let you see that fact..

You know who else has money going to the tax man? People who do more than pick up a phone for a living and do more than mindlessly back up the DEAD thought process of the past. Scientists, Doctors, THINKERS. They all pay into the same pool you use to some how back up your point.

Go watch some Glen Beck dude, you're a waste of time and intelligence if you can be so blind to the developing world around you. The fact you STILL can have resources given to you to actually LEARN something, yet sit there laying down blanket terms like 'drug users' and just bail out on some sad 'they're taking my tax money' excuse is so pathetic.

I bet there are a whole lot more degrees being offered now in the name of studying the benefits of 'illicit' drugs than there are for advancing picking up phone technology. I'm done here.

And hey, asshole, this ignorant shit right here-> "I don't need a chemical to make me feel good. I make the right choices and have loving friends and family who I have a good time with."

~On behalf of every rape victim, every US veteran that had their mind destroyed by a road side bomb: And later had their life completely RESTORED with the help of evil 'drugs' like 'ecstasy' in therapy sessions FULLY APPROVED by the DEA and FDA-
**FUCK! YOU!**

You have a lot to learn dude. But you won't- I WILL- I'm the one in school, so how bout STFU or pick up a book too because you have ZERO clue what you're talking about

DragynFyr-
‎....I just read that over n I'm gonna drop an apology now, very touchy subject for me. I'm double majoring because I believe in these things and I am NOT in short supply of like minded company. Very progressive intelligent doctoral company...... -we are right... and humans have known it for eons..- Sorry for being so passionate about this, but your girl will tell you, I don't often put a lot of heart into anything unless it really matters, and this particular subject truly has the ability to help mankind as a whole, and the biggest thing holding its progress back is the negative set-in-stone mentality of the past that you guys have exhibited here.

No hard feelings meant, but honestly, please take a look at the current research- 'crack, meth, (for the most part) heroin' these are 'empty drugs'.. empathogens, ethnogens... There are different types of drugs but some of them have a LOT of potential to help people... Myself and a whole lot of people who have seen the good things that they can do get a little riled up when they see them being put down with old school ignorance. I believed DARE too once.. Everyone in American grade school did. But sooner or later, you see someone really hurting find help in what they told you would hurt you, and you never forget it. I was personally dying of anorexia and owe my life past age 20 to MDMA all because it let me look in the mirror and really see ME and not the messed up fat-filter I lived with.. I was dying and wasting away, but couldn't see it without some help.. I'll say that openly despite 'society looking down on a drug user' because it's true and I owe my life to it. Some things that we were raised to believe were nothing but bad for us can honestly save our lives when used properly..

There is no money in a cure. And the types of 'drugs' we were raised to believe are bad for us are the kinds of drugs that can 'cure' us of ailments in a single use. Pharmaceutical companies don't make money off single use cures... When you're done with MAPS, swing by phoenixtears.ca if you want to know how to honest to god cure you and your loved ones of any type of cancer. NOT A JOKE. You should repost that link and ask everyone else to do it to- it WORKS. There are many published scientific papers proving that various types of cancers are killed by cannabanoids, but this guy Rick Simpson has cured 100's of people of every kind of cancer imaginable with over a 90% cure rate by feeding them concentrates orally - THAT ISNT A FAKE NUMBER.. There's is so much going on you don't know about because it doesn't get the media coverage it deserves..

Alright with that I'm done, if you wanna talk to me about this more take it to PM's. You have to realize this is nothing new, the only 'new' thing is western day-by-day medicine.. There are God given cures all around


SomeRandomLady- alright everyone...break it up and go home...there is nothing to be gained here.


DragynFyr- ‎^that's the thing, there IS something to be gained =-)

Today is Sunday, July 25, 2010 and it is now 819PM here in Makati, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: Talking about the wonderful airline "Cebu Pacific" and its aneurysm inducing niceties, etc. and so on.

This Entry: Monsoon is my favourite time of year. Most East Asians hate it. In the tropics, like here, it varies place to place. Mindanao for example, I am centered in Caraga, what they call "NE Mindanao," or "Bisaya Mindanao." We are mountains and rainforest, deep bush country and get decent rains. On the west coast, on the Zamboangan Peninsula they get in terms of inches, I think 120 inches in Monsoon, wettest spot on the island.

Luzon though? Man I haven't seen water like this since India!

Indian Monsoon is fucken amazing! For about 2 hours a day, same time very day, the 100F with 90% humidity is broken by what appears to be a sheet of water pouring out of a black sky. Then, as if on cue, it stops and the sun comes out and in 30 minutes the ground can look parched.

Luzon is smack in the typhoon belt. Typhoons are basically "Katrina" type hurricanes (Americans know the phrase well), about 10 in a 5 month season. The streets flood, everything gets nasty, dead dogs floating by...well...you get the idea.

Yesterday though, Mindanao had another 1 of those earthquakes I have been talking about. This one was a bit bigger than usual, 6.9. Think about that number and then imagine a place where it rates a single sentence on the wire because it is just that common. This is THAT place. It was centered 60km off the West Central coast and didn't cause a tsunami luckily though they usually occur across the ocean from the event, 2 days later, etc.

Usual bullshit...I used to frequent ex pat forums, figured being the old hand in SE Asia that I am I would offer good advice. I was suprised though at what I found.

For example, 1 American guy was thinking of coming for a visit. Mindanao is on the "Do Not Travel" list of just about every Western embassy, and for decent reasons, so he was full of trepidation. "Is it safe?"

I replied that it depends on the part but that life on Mindanao is the razour's edge. Be prepared for the unexpected, regardless. Do get traveller's insurance in case you need to be medivaced out (decent advice for any locale since it runs at least 10K US in calm nations like Thailand, and usually 50K). Don't travel to Muslim areas, do not befriend locals, including love interests and their families until long after you meet them. Dress down, don't drink local water, etc, etc.

So a day later comes this American who said he lived in Iligan City. That's a rather large, majority Bisayan city on the North Coast. He said Mindanao is perfectly safe, he's never had a problem, embassies are full of shit, Rachamim is trying to scare people and is an asshole.

I replied and asked him how long he's lived there. Less than 3 months he said, I laughed at him. I told him he hadn't even been here long enough to see Iligan, let alone Mindanao and told him he ought to research shit himself and see if he still felt the same way. To make it short, this just caused him to curse and insult.

2 days later 7 bombs went off in Iligan and 2 Base Commands of the MILF actually invaded the city killing Christians. "Welcome to My World." That was August, 2008 I believe.

So, Friday 7 grenades tossed in Iligan and I was reminded of that dickhead. Lots of people are like that.

The Japanese man I began talking about...might as well wrap that one up. Letter to the govt.surfaced, seems he is alive, but they won't say what the ransom demand is. If and when he is released I can't wait to see what happens with his immigration status, having 2 IDs and all that. I thinkbany foreigner even hanging out in Muslim areas here is a dickhead.

In 2001 there was a half black, half white convert yo Islam, Jeffrey Schilling from San Diego, California. He came here for his internet girlfriend (another clusterfuck of a subject), and when he found out she had a cousin in the Abu Sayyaf (think Filipino al Qadah) he wanted to meet them. The story he told AFTER was that he wanted to explain how they were going against Allah by chopping off Christian heads.

He and his GF walk into an Abu Sayyaf Camp and within minutes he's chained to a wall and they fuck his GF (niiiice). She ends up the "wife" of an Abu Sayyaf guerilla and as he's chained he gets to see their connubial bliss hahahahahahaha.

Months later, 7 months I think, they haul ass during an army offencive and leave our Jeffrey chained on his wall. He had grown so thin from malnutrition and disease that he was able to simply slip out of his manacles and walk out and meet the soldiers entering the village. Lucky they didn't kill his retarded ass as they have done with other hostages they have "freed."

They do that a lot, fuck women they capture and make them "wives." Islam allows this actually so they are correct in terms of their religion.

So the Japanese man has a fun few months, or years, in store. What I find maddening is when Westerners take a ship down to Sulu or Basilan, take some photos at landmarks as a form of adventure tourism.

Reading a travel blog once, this ponytailed American took the ferry from mainland Malaysia to Zamboanga, and got off on Basilan. Basilan is an island off of Zamboanga, and is part of Mindanao administratively.

Its native tribe are the Yakan, an Islamicised People, the tribe that founded Abu Sayaf and it is where most beheadings take place, every month they kill non-Muslims. I could fill up a couple of entries just from shit since March.

Anyway, he bragged that he got off in Basilan, in its capitol, Isabela City. He tols everyone that everyone smiled and he couldn't understand why people said to beware of Basilan. I was thinking, "Yes my precious dickhead, would you not smile if you saw a pile of 100 Dollar Bills with a ponytail wandering around aimlessly?"

Instead I wrote, "I am glad you had a good trip and mangaged to arrive in your destination unscathed but what you are doing is incredibly irresponsible. You, as you say had an armed escort provided by the Governor (who was Abu Sayyaf himself, a co-founder actually, Gov Wahad Akbar, who was blown up by a massive bomb when he left Congress in Manila after moving into the Congressional seat for the island after reaching his 9 year Term Limit as governor) of the island who because you are white, was instantly aware that you had stepped off that ferry...just like the thousands of Abu Sayyaf terrorists who also live there were aware.

That you were not attacked is purely a question of luck, even with the 20 well armed soldiers walking you around the capitol for 2 hours.

What about the person in Washington State, or London who reads this and scoffs at the risks? What if its a bad day, or the Gov.is in Manila that day? What if they attack the soldiers? You are minimising the risk and that is ignorant."

He chose not to publish my comment hahahah. That was the last time I ever wasted my time to tell someone words of caution.

I was young once...really...I'm serious! I did my stupid shit. Once, OK...I was on my walkabout, my gap year, though mine came after 6 years service, not 3 as with most. We went to Thailand which at that time, 1989, was where most IDF soldiers went (today their stupid asses go to fucken Peru and Boliva).

There was a few of us, all squadmates and we went and rented a house in the far north. We went and explored the whole region and I had my 1st visit to Cambodia, when Pol Pot was still a force to be reckoned with and Poi Pet was just a muddy tent strewn camp.

After a bit a local we had befriended, a hill tribesmen, convinced me and 1 mate to join him as he trekked to his village up in Burma, near the Yunnan (China) border.

Back in those days China was mostly closed. You could go to Beijing, Shanghai, and a couple of other locales but Yunnan? Hahahaha...

Burma, that part was home to more than 21 separate insurgent armies, most involved with opium and heroin. Burma was also closed.

We crossed the river from Thailand into Burma on a lorry innertube attached to a hemp rope. We then trekked up the hills on foot, spending a night each way in a hill tribe village, of course getting hammered on opium and back then I drank, so palm wine and rice liquor as well.

In the end I crossed into Yunnan, skirted the main border city, and then trekked back into Thailand and for what? We would have been shot on site in China and in most of Burma as well, even by Thai's 5th Army, no slouches, who worked that river border.

Yet, as one gets older such recklessness seems so stupid, so wasteful. Its true that I had 6 straight years in combat then, and was just 22 but...it was insane.

5 cups of coffee today. gf made me 2, the last 3 at coffee shop on way to school.

Dream this morning: I was standing on a high hill, and I looked out across several miles of primordial jungle at a mountain that rose out of the distant mist. The entrance to the jungle was a low small wicket gate entwined by green ivy bearing shiny orange fruit similar in shape to carrots. There was a shaman who lived as a hermit in the forest on the mountain. His name was Paluma (note to self: google "paluma"). GF and I were told he could cure us (of some unknown condition). Upon enter the jungel, we had to call his name so 1) the tribe he was revered by wouldnt' attack us, 2) hopefully he would make himslef visible. Crawled though the gate and entered the forest and made our way toward the mountain. The fact that there was no trail and that the vegetation was dense made navigation difficult. We progressed in the direction we thought we had seen the mountain.


Later inthe dream, looking at a wrod list for Paluma's or the tribes language (transliterated into the Latin letters). memory of this is fuzzy. Odd words or proper nouns like "Paluma," galumamaco, galumamaho, galuma. Not only ismy memory fuzzy, but hte letters kept rearranging themselves on the page. I grew frustrated and quit trying to learn their language.

On my bike ride home from work today, I noticed my chain clicking. I pulled off the road into a pullout at a park. A tiny white rabbit scampered under a shed. The rabbit was shaggy, had floppy ears that hung down, and had a pug nose. I bent down and looked under the shed adn called the rabbit for a moment. It actually came out and hopped up to me. Before I could catch it, it shied back under the shed. Obviously somebody's former pet. I called it some more and it came out a couple more tiems, but each time, it was too quick to catch. With all the dogs running loose, coyotes, and even cats ,this little bunny doens't have a chance. Easter is over. (Baby rabbits are often given to children as gifts for the Easter holidya in the US.) After trying for a couple of minutes, I thought that if I could get under the shed, I mihgt catch the bunny. So I lifted it (300 - 400#) and deftly put a log under it with my foot to hold it up on its back edge. I crawled underneath but couldnt find the rabbit at this point. I gave up after several minutes, removed the log and set the shed back down on its foundation, and continued home, stopping once at a "head shop" to bought some Kratom.

Eloise cat greeted me with several happy chirps wehn I came hoem today. Now she is sitting on the tiki bar beside my laptop at which I type and drink a pint of ale. She is doing much better, but limps. hope the limp will not be permanent. Her energy level is nearly normal. For a while after the injury, the other cat, a fat white and orange tabby named Fig, was bossing her - chasing her from a favorite chair, the yoga mat, and the other "top (alpha) cat spots." This was unusual since Fig has always been the beta cat. But after the injury, she has been palying the dominant alpha role.

These were indoor/outdoor cats. Not pampered indoor pets. Unfortunately an no longer let the cats go outside unatt3ended. Thought this neighborhood was free of viscious dogs. Why is it that viscious dogs run loose here? Children, cats, not to mention dogs shitting in yards and digging up my compost pile and gettign into the garbage. With a bell to warn birds, cats are harmless.

What animal did it? Here's the list of suspects:

Next door neighbor's falcon: Ruled out. The wounds line up with a medium sized jaw. Not a beak or talons.
Coyote? A few months ago, a coyote came into the back yard, and upon seeing him, Eloise arched her back, raised her tail, and charged, half sideways and hair-on-end, growling and snorting with rage. The coyote fled with his tail between his legs! It happened so fast, I didnt' have time to grab a stick and chase him away. That combined with what the vet said (cat will not survive a coyote attack) can rule out coyotes.
Next door neighbor's dog Rowsby? I don't trust him. He watches the cats, sometimes pretending not to, but always watching out of the corner of his eye. One time he chased them.
Other neighbors' dogs? Plenty of them running loose. So maybe. Cant rule them out.

SIck!!!!! I thought living here mean no dry spells.... ARGH

Is there any Old Skool'ers out there in cyberspace??living in Dublin,Ireland.Looking to get a bit of a gathering together - for that early 90's temple of sound/spectrum/gravity/ormonde/burning man feeling... all welcome!

Today is Thursday, April 2nd, 2009 and it is now 2:05 AM here in the Philippines.

Song wise...First song is by Marly, who made the following song when she was 19, in 1994, "You Never Know." The Dane has talent but seems to have disappeared from the scene in years since. I have posted a favourite song of mine, in the version I love best, "Extended Version," with agreat video as well as opposed to the videoless links I usually provide.


www.youtube.com/watch?v=JA3HPhR7cfY

Another one iside my head now is brand new, out of NY, the only thing I miss about the place being the culture it transmits. That is the same thing that maddens me as well, that globalisation which I detest but hey, in terms of art and music I dig it!

John Kano and Sarah Mattea on voals, "I'm Done With the Pain," the "Bellatrax Mix."

www.youtube.com/watch?v=PIDCE-N8TFI

Kano is agreat NY DJ, not to be confused with the British (black) rapper epononymously called just "Kano," or the fabulous Italo-Dicso group of the very late 70s and very early 80s, also just named "kano," who i am crazy about as well.

Also gave anice, if cheap video though hse looks to be atrannie to me. Who cares, if that is your thing by all means! The dark haried girl with her in the gym though is all that and abag of chips as they say in the Bronx, or used to anyway!

Books? Reading another book I brought back with me last time out of NYC. "Palestine," a compendium of graphic novels on the conflict by the American Joe Sacco. The man is an asshole for sure, not to mention not even bothering to get his historical facts correct (attributing "A land without a People, for a People without a a land" to Herz'l when it was not even said by a Jew let alone a Zionist!).

That is but one of many glaring problems with his biased piece of nonsense but I need to always be on top fo what critics arm themselves with in order to be fully educated.

Since I last posted, Dad returned from Cebu, and has since gone back up there. Rizza is still on Cebu but coming home in week more or less (cannot give dates because of safety issues of course, until after the fact).

She and I have spent aslot of time trying to work through this latest flare up, and I have done alot of thinking...

I truly do not know what will come of it all, but expect by next week I should be alot surer. It is not asimple matter, her being with me since she was so young and her culture not allowing her to move on as it were, even if she wanted to. then she long ago converted, out of belief and that also makes it tricky, but now is the time to sort it not when she is pregnant, yes?

We will see...

Mom and I have not talked much on that, she has her own problems. The rido, the family feud is heating up once again. We won every court case in the issue and then a couple of weeks ago Laddie's son was voted out of office as mayor. Laddie, as I have diuscussed, is the famour Col. Lademora, who is para leader in our valley. His daughter is my G-Dmother, my civil wedding sponsor.

Just to recap, Laddie is an Illongo, another ethnicity/tribe related to the Bisaya (Visayans), and often in the same paras together.

He began his military career in the PC, the Constalbury, which was the old govt. run para, which has since been succeeded by the CAFGU groups.

PC was dissolved after the Marcos Era due to its propensity to arm thugs and such, though by some's opinion CAFGU is not much different, and then there is the SS-CAFGU, which I am getting into perhaps but more on that later.

Laddie was stationed on western Mindanao, in the heartland of the Bisaya/illongo vs. Moro (Muslim) wars. He made his reputation by erasing Muslim villages.

Later transferred north to the large island of Samar, which was being raped of its timber by some Illustrado families (Illustrados are the richest segment of the Philippines, many with Spanish blood of some amount or another).

Laddie's sponsor was Danding Conjaungco, a Marco's crony (one of the Rolex 12, as well as the man SAID to be behind Aqcuino's Assasination, owner of San Miguel Beer, etc and so on). Laddie exterminated, or his men did anyway, 2 villages full of NPA sympathisers on Samar but these villages were being monitored by HRW, the Human Rights NGO.

Laddie had to make a settlement with Marcos to avoid the Hague, and disbanded his men, who promptly came with him when he came to the valley. He reformed them, without direct govt. alliance but armed by the govt. Conjaungco had just bought the huge Palm Oil Plantation bordering our lands, that I sometimes talk about. We were in the midst of the NPA First War as we call it, in the mid 80s.

Laddie went famously, to a Newsweek Magazine interview wearing his necklace of human ears, as most did in those days, and some do still today. His men became pure Tad-Tad (Cho-Chop), cannabials and tribal religions mixed with Catholicsm. Tattooing their bodies, wearing their amulets.

Still here of course, they are the force I talked about when the current Govt's Minister came to visit the Plam Oil lands, now owned by a Malaysian consortium, and got a few M16s stuck in his face. Miffed he ran to the Federal Garrison in our village where they laughed as they told him to calm down, they were not doing anything about it. It was bit of ascandal here for awhile but then the NPA Operation I recently talked about took place, with the related attempt on President Arroyo's life at Butuan Airport (by NPA) and so it was eclipsed.

Laddie's daughter, my G-Dmother was mayor, then her brother was, who actually married us in the civil ceremony and was mayor until 2 weeks ago.

Now...Uncle Allan, the man leading the other faction we are feuding with, had his sister-in-law elected! His wife's sister! Now with her new influence she is tampering with the courts which is what we expected when we first found out who had won the elections.

It will come to a head soon, but that is all I can say.

We broke ground on my new outbuildings for my goat farming operation, halfway done already, thereabouts. Using cinderblock and zinc, nothing fancy but sturdy enough. I am trying to pick who I will alow to be the caretaker, the family living on the farm to take control fo day to day, which is how life is here. I have alarge pool of our people to choose.

It is a huge step up socially for whomever is picked. They go from lifting 80 kilo rice sacks 10 hours a day to sttting on a porch and giving orders, so I must pick carefully. As well, the person then ebcomes indebted to me for life and I want a person who is capable in other ways.

Sill puttering around with my Kratom trade, still trying to break into the US Market but not willing to pay the Customs Permit prices they want, only 4 Gs US but too much as I reckon.

My prescribing doctor has died, actually died a few days before my last entry but it slipped my mind. I have enough stockpiled to last a few years, but have already found other sources, not too difficult.

As well, as I said, the country has reintroduced codeine to the market so its attitude about opiates/opioids seems to be easing up so it will be interesting perhaps.

I am now down to 240 mgs of IR oral morphine, 120 per dosage, 12 hours apart.

Been to 4 meetings since last entry, over the CAFGU we are talking about forming, fold it into Laddie's group, but it remains to be seen. For my own part, I am hesistant until I know whether I will remain here for life. It is that serious of a commitment for the danger I place the family in.

Have ordered 2 pistol silencers, 4 AK supressors, and am talking about getting 2 ARs from the man in Danao, the man I mentioned. If I go for the ARs, I will order supressors for them as well. I tried the AR in the 2006 War and I really dug it, my son's Sayeret group was utilising them for atryout, they all loved them. I am waiting for the quote from danao. What is so great is that he charges so far less than even an American supplier!

On my HCV, well next week is the all important 90 day exam for Viral Load which will either have me cured, near cured, or it is off the meds and a failure.

I have had acolourful life either way, and while I do have regrets like anyone, also have had lots more opportunities to see and do things others can only dream about, so I cannot whine if I do not get cured...and cannot whine even if my conditions speeds up so to speak. After all, having had it since the mid 80s at least, who can say I have not been lucky? We will see anyway.

I have to update by Blood and Guts files, as well as My Life, maybe in the next couple of days... All for now.

In this life we lead I always believed that there were two absolutes that can be gained from any situation or experience. Lessons or blessings.

Blessings, it seems, happen out of nowhere, on the fly. They are positive feelings, thoughts, material. Anything that brings a 'feel good' sensation of enlightenment, peace or general pleasantness.

Lessons, are slow in deliverance and cause, at a minimum, feelings of discomfort. At the worst, traumatic life changing pain or other devastating reality.

I always felt and truly believe that both of these things can actually be categorized as blessings but the lessons are the true and hardcore REAL blessings.

So fuck you world. I want more pain. Throw your worst at me, i don't give a fuck. Keep it coming, if I survive your bullshit you will have provided me valuable learning opportunities.

You hurt me and I will learn, grow and become strong.

Someday, after my final lesson has been learned. My scarred body and mind will not be broken but merely marred to remind me of what has been learned.

Someday, I will learn all the things that everyone else already seems to know.

Someday, I will earn the right to die. Hopefully, I will have the honor to die for something or someone.

Keep the lessons coming. I am even more adaptable now that I have no one that needs me. I can take risks. I can disregard my safety. I can be reckless to prove a point.

Yeah, I WILL learn more. Blessings are nice but I require lessons.

Bring me more pain motherfucker.

Today is Friday, July 23, 2010 and it is now 147AM here in Butuan, Agusan del Norte Province, Mindanao, Philippines.

Recap: 1st day back in Mindanao for my bi-monthly visit to take of financial and social commitments on Mindanao.

This Entry: I have decided to fly back up to Manila, it was OK and all on the ferry but I am a bit haggard and do not feel up to another 1.5 to 3 days moving through several archipelagos. Butuan Airport is nothing worth mentioning. The best airport on the island is in Davao City but that's a 5 hour drive with no checkpoints and there are 11 between San Franz and Davao so...In fact, checkpoints are why I am sitting here 6 hours prior to boarding. I guess you can compare it to Brunei Airport, typically small and over crowded SE Asian airport though this one rarely has a white face in it where as Brunei maybe has half its business through European contractors...or Middle Eastern like my son whose outfit is based there though because he refuses to apply for American citizenship, and because Israeli passports aren't recognised in the Sultunate has to work out of Kota in Sabah State.

The Sultunate Brunei Darsullam sits on Borneo's Northern Coast. Borneo is home to 3 nations: Brunei
Indonesia and Malaysia, the country to which Sabah belongs.

In fact, Malaysia is tricky as well, but since Indonesia is another racist bag of shit, we need to rely on Malaysia.

As I mentioned around Xmas my son just left his mandatory 36 month hitch in the IDF, had taken a short "walkabout" and instead of going back to university decided to make money. I cannot blame him since the bloke, at 22 is making 180K US every 10 months plus great benefits. His job? He works for 2 mates of mine who run a Private Security firm, he's a rifleman on tankers hauling petrol through the Straits. He hops super tankers off of Borneo, as soon as they leave Sultunate waters launches that pick up the Pilots (local men who know the reefs by heart who steer the ships, Captains only really mintor automatic pilots in deep seas, unless there's trouble of course) drop off Security.

My son, like my next youngest son who is protessional as I was, was Golani (Golani Brigade),and qualified on the 50 Caliber via the 50 Cal Sniper Course at Mitkan Adam. His job is to sit lay prone atop the super structure, no spotter but with a spotting scope and basically hang out.

He just finished his 1st 10 month tour, cashed the check already, about 10 years salary in our country, and only had 2 engagements, both pinging them until they broke off and hauled ass.

Somalia gets the news but the Mollucan Straits (I sy plural because of the adjacent straits which are far too numerous to mentioned here) are actually the #1 most pirate infested waters in the world. In fact the piracy extends here to this island though only our west and southern sides, especially off of Zamboanga where there were 3 more kidnappings on the water but I won't bother with all that...

Fuck it, you've convinced me.

One tiny island,Panguturan, in the Sulu chain (Sulu, including Jolo Island is a province of Mindanao though separate islands) saw a mysterious Japanese man kidnapped at 1PM on Friday, July 16th.

The man, 70 year old Katayama Mamaito, had lived on the shithole for near on 5 years, taken a local wife (Don't we all? The dumb fucks that we expats tend to be) and even...converted to Islam! For sure he's a dumb fuck, thinking conversion would protect his sushi-saki-sashimi Baby G-Dzilla killing ass from his "neighbours."

The interesting aspect is not that he is Japanese, we have a fair amount of the Nips, I mean slants, I mean I AM FUCKING JOKING, calm down MOD! No, the interesting aspect isnt even that he lived in Sulu! What is interesting is that when the PNP (Ph. National Police) searched his home they found that he had dual identities.

Its very common actually, Chinese who control most business sectors in the Philippines, even when their roots extend back centuries, along with East Indians who dominate the informal consumer credit sector (LOANSHARKING) have 2 names. Peter Go, for example, a kidnapping victim on Sulu's Jolo Island, was actually named Xi Li Wu Yun Shing (one certainly understands why old Peter made the choice he did).

What was "interesting" was that he had passport in that other name, and both names were Japanese (as opposed to "easier to understannd version for locals"). Also noteworth was that this 2nd passport had a younger age.

Petester is one of those guys that is always hounded by the worst possible luck. He joined 3 members of his extended family already in Jolo and opened an appliance outlet, sinking all his life savings into the venture.

He was kidnapped 3 weeks later. His kidnappers immediately contacted the family and began trying to negotiate. His family hung up, shuttered their appliance business and hauled ass to China.

I guess that I really shouldn't colour him "unlucky," because the normal recourse for someone without family or very close friends to ransom them is almost always decapitated.

Pete escaped on July 5th, having been held since December of 2008. Guess what happened next though? I swear this shit is true, you can Google him if you want!

When he was released? He was charged with over staying his Tourist Visa, because he was with his captors when it expired. He was jailed for overstaying his fucken visa!


Mabuhay! Welcome to the Land of Smiles...and YES! We do take Dollars!

I will have to finish the post in my next entry.

He was JUST here. My best friend. The dude who was always happy to see me. The dude who never judged me. He was always so laid back and happy and had a 'roll-with-it' attitude. I loved watching him laugh, play and smile.

He died at peace, I think. He was acting funny that night. He was walking with his back arched and was having difficulty laying or sitting down. I thought it was just his feet and legs acting up again.

Eventually, he lay down on the floor with a thud (his joints are painful despite the pills I give him). I lay down beside him, petting and kissing him on his head. He was panting but it was hot despite the AC.

I called an emergency vet to see if they could give me some input but they couldn't diagnose over the phone. Understandable but I didn't have the money to bring him in. I would have had the loot but I had previously made the selfish decision to start getting high again. Getting high required every penny I had and there was nothing left from my last run.

He seemed fine. Uncomfortable but he didn't appear to be DYING.

It was around 9PM and kissed him on the head and performed the standard verbal ritual, 'You ready to go sleepies, baby? its bedtime for Shaman and daddy, ready for bed?'

I went to bed and woke up at 12:04 am. I went to check on my boy and something wasn't right. He was in the same position I left him, he wasn't moving/breathing, his stomach was distended and he was stiff.

I miss you my friend. YOU WERE JUST HERE. I can't stop crying and I can't imagine what life will be like now. YOU WERE IMPORTANT TO ME. You kept me alive. You put a REAL smile on my face, often.

I'd like to say that I'll be with you shortly but that isn't for me to decide. We'll see. You were my buffer to making stupid decisions. I would always think, 'if this kills me, what about Shaman?'. I have no reason not to be careless now. I have no reason to give a fuck.

More evidence of selfishness revealed.

I miss you Shaman. I was a lucky dude to have you in my life and to develop the bond that we had.

This is going to be tough for a while.


bestest friends

Today is Monday, March 1st, 2010 and it is now 1208 AM here in Brooklyn, NYC, USA.

OK, so as I said I had given Jackie my password to the account I use for communication with Rizza and her family. I already discussed the result of that piece of genius...Jackie and I discussed this and she swore she would never go back to that account.

Hahahaaha, sigh...She woke up 3 hours ago and frantically tried to get in touch with me. "Rachi, why is Rizza saying this?" Rizza, cognisant that Jackie is lurking in that account is planting nonsense there about Rizza and I reuniting...Well Rizza got what she wanted (partially).

Jackie frantically contacted me after waking up a couple of hours ago (13 hour time difference between Mindanao and NYC).

Jackie: "What does this mean? You are getting back with Rizza?"

Rachamim: "Baby, if G-D forbid you left me today I would still never look at that girl.I was done with her long before we touched."

Jackie: "But why does she say THIS?"

Rachamim: "Baby, if you are trying to win me back, and you know my woman has this password...is it making sense yet?"

Jackie:"Well she is wrong! I will never leave you! She is foolish to think such a thing."

Rachamim:"Yes my love, she truly is foolish. Tell me, why did you go back into that ID after swearing to leave it alone?"

Jackie: "I can't help it."

Hmmmmmmm...hmmmmm...not a good sign I reckon.

Rachamim: "OK baby, I will help you. I am changing the password. Now you will not have to worry about what Rizza says or does."

Jackie: "YES, change it!!!"

I do suppose I expect too much of her. Me? I am ice cold, able to control myself to a very high degree.I suppose that I am at fault for giving her that ID and expecting her NOT to be curious.

Rizza has been texting me, talking about returning home to San Franz, to the compound. I explained to her that it will not happen, we will never be together again.

Rizza: "But Rachi, daddy, I am your wife!"

Rachamim: "Rizza, marriage is NOT a piece of paper. If Filipinos used toilet paper I would tell you what you could do with our Marriage Certificate."

Rizza: "Hehehehe, daddy, you always so funny!"

Rachamim: "Are you fucken crazy? Seriously, do you have a mental illness?"

Rizza: "No, I am fine. Why do you ask?"

(As I tell my cousin to suit up I want to spar as soon as I am finished) Rachamim: "Rizza, look, I need you to listen to me very carefully, please."

Rizza: "OK."

Rachamim:"Rizza, I truly hope you find the happiness that all people deserve. Me? I found mine. I will not give it up. Not for anything, and this will not change. You must make your life.I told you I am getting a Get (Jewish Divorce) and will file a civil divorce as well. You must accept this, this is not a game."

Rizza: "Rachi, I want that we should go back to Switzerland. We liked it there. We will be happy again."

(Ready to burst a blood vessel) Rachamim: "Rizza...(sigh), look, this has to stop? I love her, not you..."

Rizza: "But I am your wife, she is not. She is married to her husband. You must recognise that you are tied to me."

Rachamim: "How the fuck you can even say that as you live in that man's house? Have you no shame? Look what you have done to your bros and your baby sister. To your parents! You did this, not me, no matter what issues you may have had you did not have to fuck another man! Then, while you sleep in his house you preach to me about the responsibilities of marriage? Shame, shame on you!"

Rizza: "Daddy, can you send me a Tanach (Jewish Bible) and some chocolates?"

***Hahahahahaha, I swear this is real, I am not bullshitting!***

Rachamim: "Rizza, ask your BF to buy you some Filipino chocolates and as for HaTanach? What does Halacha (Jewish Law) say about an Adultress? You recall?"

Rizza: "The penalty is death by stoning?"

Rachamim: "There you go, you are a smart girl. Just live your life, I will send papers to your parents."

Rizza:"But we need to speak clearly about our situation! I will return! I want a chance!"

Rachamim: "Chances ended when I was on chemotherapy (Interferon for Hep-C) and you dogged me out fucking another man. Deal with it."
___________________________

So, Rizza then made some summy EMails, and sent EMails to our ID...The EMails mentioned Rizza and I getting back together, as well as about what I did in 2002 in our 1st separation when I was with the Hakka girl...Jackie, unbeknownst to me cruised my EMail and read all this shit as Rizza knew she would.

Sadly for Rizza, and luckily for me, Jackie actually loves me. In addition, she is not stupid and realises what is happening.

So, my life as I know it...After that maddening exchange of texts with Rizza my cousin and I sparred in the park. "Krav Maga" ("Combat Fighting") is an Israeli martial art and requisite training in the IDF for all "Kravi" ("Combat Soldiers" i.e. "Infantry").

It was developed in the late 1930s by a soldier in the pre-statehood paramilitaries. It is based on Aikkido, Ju-Jiutsu and Judo with a healthy dollop of pre-WWII street-fighting techniques.

In the 70 years since its development it has been perfected to a very high degree. Today all Infantryman go through hellish training in it. You must line up alond the length of a basketball court or parade ground, and the Instructor walks quickly down the line giving 1 or 2 moves on each soldier who must not react.

We officers, sadistic as we are, love to watch as a paltoon of 28 falls like dominoes as the Instructor moves down the line. In today's IDF "beating" recruits is illegal but doing so under the guise of Advanced Training is entirely legal. The strikes are controlled so as to leave no premanant marks or injuries and the rationale is to open up the trainees' minds to the opportunities available within the system.

The next phase consists of Rifle Strikes, 12 moves in 2 sets of 6 strikes that will kill a man within 3 moves (finish all 6 to confirm the kill). Krav Maga is essential because we specialise in CQUC (Close Quarter Urban Combat). If you are in a takedown and those pussy-ass M16A1s jam up as they do a lot in sand and dirt, you need to retain Kill Ability with your Primary (Primary Weapon). We are now changing from M16 to M4 configuration but I wish to hell we brought back the Galil (my Galil, especially my GALATZ were my babies).

Anyway, off to the park. I was steamed over Rizza...I suppose this caused me to give up a couple of points because although I flattened my cousin, as usual, I must have taken some to the ribs.My lower right ribs (bottom 2) are hurting bad to the point when I breathe depply they ache.

My cousin is a fucken Jobnik, an Intel officer, and they only rate 02. Essentially this means a pencil pusher hurt me! Man I am getting old!

On ratings...In the IDF you have different ratings depending upon training. 02 is the lowest, they go through 4.5 weeks total Basic Training as far as combat skills.People have this mental image that Intel is a "sexy" job but the majority of Intel officers are washouts, cannot cope with stress of combat, etc.

I respect AMAN (IDF Intel), just not as fighting men.

An 01 by the way would be a brain damaged or severely unfit recruit and they would get 1 week training and then sent to wash vehichles for a few months, etc.

Officers, junior grade, are at least 08, combat soldier 05, etc. I am 09+. However my Intel Rating is compromised over a smuggling conviction from Lebanon that got me 4 months in an IDF prison (2 kilos of hash inside a MkII (Merkava tank)...but I suppose I will get to that evetually in a "My Life" entry.

My compromised Rating is why I cashiered out in 2007. I could go no further. Anyway, at my age it was prudent to cashier anyway. The IDF is a young man's outfit, our Brigadier Generals are in their early 30s.


Listening to my MP4, "Precious" by Depeche Mode, the Sasha Gargatuan Rmx. Love Depeche and Dave Gahan. Hey, have to up my fellow Jews yeah? And a dopefiend as well? For sure.

removed

Tales of Misogyny

I need to vent here. I've created an entire subcategory for my blog in tribute to the talented but underappreciated mis-ogynistic/-anthropic writer Patricia Highsmith. I need to deal with long-suppressed emotions and memories. I'm going to rant and rave, and I hope I don't offend anyone. The first rant is the most recent.

Beds
Last night, I got in trouble for getting into bed the wrong way. I entered the bed by climbing over its foot. This seemed like a logical way to get into bed for several reasons. My side of the bed is about 2 feet from the wall. Normally, I could walk up to the middle of the bed, pull down a corner of the covers and sheet, and enter from there. But recently, the space between the bed and wall has become cluttered on my side. There is now a chair filling most of the space there. I didnt' put it there. Surrounding the chair and occupying the remaining space between the wall and my side of the bed is my gf's laptop among heaps of books and laundry. (Some is of the books and some of my laundry are mine, I know.) Indeed, I had to climb over the foot of the bed to enter.

The bed frame at the foot of the bed is severla inches higher than the level of the mattress/sheets/blankets. After climbing onto the bed, I crawled up the lenght of thhe bed to the pillow, which is where the entrance of the sheet/blankets is located. So I squatted at the pillow, lifted the sheet and blankets from the mattress, and scooted under. A____ became angry and scolded me, and told me how uncouth I am for getting in bed this way. This hurt my feelings. I have slept on the floor (or ground) most of my life and am still not used to sleeping in beds.

So I haven't really been exposed to the rules of bed-etiquette. Since I've been dating A_, she's refused to allow me to set up my sleeping palette (a camping mat for softness and a sheet and blankets (she called it a "rat's nest" when she first saw it.) on the floor, much less sleep in it, and has insisted that I sleep in her bed with her. I, on the other hand, prefer that we both sleep on the floor in my cozy "rat's nest." Her bed (and beds in general) is too soft. My body sinks and twists in on itslef. The softness of the bed causes me to "V" down into it so my midsection is bend at an unnatutal angle. This puts pressure on my intenal organs and makes my shoulders terrible sore. Sometiems this causes me intense pain (strain in back, neck, shoulder, arm, hip, leg, stomach, etc.) that lasts throughout the next day(s). I don'r know whhat to do other than get used to it and get in the bed the way she wants me to.

Well, the ex-girlfriend who I posted about in a few of my entries sent me a letter she had to write for school. The letter was to be a letter saying goodbye to someone or something in her life, and she chose me. This letter does a great job of showing what a HUGE fucking scumbag I was, and I am so happy that I can not relate to that ugly person I turned into. I am sorry I put her through the things I did too, but without any further hesitation, the letter of death:


Ouch, right? I can’t say she’s lying either besides a few things. The thing about me getting mad that she was dancing with other guys at the dinner dance, I truly didn’t care that she was. I told her I wasn’t going to dance so if she wanted to dance, I wouldn’t stop her. But most of it is true. I treated her like shit and I’m sorry that she didn’t get to see the real me. The version of me that is NOT plagued by drug addiction and insecurity.

I also have a letter I wrote directed to heroin. It’s basically the same thing that I posted above from my ex but it’s written by me and directed at heroin. I’ll see if I can dig that up and post it.

-legz

http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/showthread.php?p=7894875#post7894875

They told me to come here.

So I'm posting here :O

http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=101720856&release=102119206

Psychological dependence, as the medical community now defines it, includes the concept that psychological dependence results, in significant part, from the reinforcement that the administration of a particular drug grants a patient or user.

Reinforcement accumulates.

It has been eight years since I began the daily manipulation of conscious experience via legally prescribed medications (14 years if you include all those without potential for abuse). Since I was fucking ten years old (24 now). But none, not even phenobarbital, has gripped my soul in a manner similar to the opioids as much as have the benzodiazepines. I feel completely trapped - both physically and mentally - by their calm coolness. That addictive feeling of warmth and reprieve after a difficult day dealing with the rest of reality and its sharpened edges. I know the throes of benzodiazepines well - both in moderation and in excess of excess. I was able to kick my IV heroin habit without too much fuss, but sometimes I can't imagine, nor do I want to, a life without benzodiazepines as my daily crutch and nightly chemical hug.

I feel selfish that I feel I need that proverbial "hug" from a chemical - because those I receive from my girlfriend can be fantastic, the must utter bliss. Laying in bed with her - they are times I will cherish forever. But, despite this glowing account of a prosperous relationship, the nip of chemical dependency is never far behind to remind me of the real reasons I spend my days depressed and - not literally - alone. And I certainly do not have enough of those so 'initiated,' as myself, in my life right now to relate my thoughts to.

And, thus, the second Blog entry of my life has been composed and entered for permanent enshrinement.

~ vaya