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i feel used, naive and worthless.

its pretty simple really. the girl just wanted birthday sex. but I decided to hold out on her.

was I trying to b some sort of "nice guy", or was I just naive and foolish to think there was more between us than just a couple friends who could help each other out in the bed room for a night or two.

well it turns out she's keen on someone. very keen. the funny thig is my head knew she wasn't keen on me, but somewhere along the way my heart was always hoping.

so now im left with regret. regret that I didn't just fuck her brains out and have some fun.

I had such a golden opportunity to had sex with her, and now the fact that I didn't actually take that opportunity is killing me inside.

7/17/2010

I believe that aside from simply "getting high," the type of drugs one chooses is no accident. In my case, after reading extensively on ADD (that is only after I've self medicated with meth & have the patience & can actually read the whole damn things) frick its no WONDER i love meth the best. I can actually focus and pay attention. When sober off all drugs/alcohol 2 years there were advantages, but damned if I had even remotely had the patience to sit & figure out much less learn anything electronic, yet under the influence of meth, no problem.

I used to work in Urgent Care & dealt a lot with medical staff. At times 1 or 2 coworkers may come out of the closet by admitting they "party" occasionally, which is all cool. Until, that is, you're found out or like some patients, caught by the docs (only one of which bothered to read back through patients charts to look for KDS types) or flagged by a suspicious pharmacist, at which point you make the NNL. No Narcotics List for: blah, blah, and blahs if they come in.

My friend Aimee is a hardcore heroin addict, but it's also true that as long as I've known her & since she was a little kid, sleep usually eluded her save for a couple hrs a night due to her numerous ailments, hence the lure of smack. No damn wonder MS or Oxy's, later smack was soo tempting she became hooked.

However, back to the point, being my doc and I, she's a cool doc & few docs are cool with ongoing narcotics Rx, unless you're dying of cancer, or you're just plain old as in 65+. By that age, society doesn't consider you a threat or potential criminal, plus being a senior citizen docs kind of expect people complaining about pain legitimately.

I didn't want to raise any red flags by bringing up ADD & asking for an Rx to treat it. As a kid if it hadn't of been for ritalin, I'd of been just like my 3 half siblings who all share same dad with different moms. All of us, except me, including pops dropped out of 10th grade because of "a learning disability & being too hyper." My half siblings moms refused to medicate my 3 siblings, but if mom hadn't of gotten me on ritilin, I'd most likely be a 10th grade drop out too, barely able to sign my damn name.

They told mom that by the time I was an adult, I would "grow out of it," but the only thing I "grew out of" was the hyperness not the attention deficeit. As an adult, it really sucks, but as long as I dose low on meth, I'm good. Dose too much, I get in trouble, so I've learned my lesson there. Still, I'd rather be allowed to have my Rx for pain that doc writes for me & not for ADD than to have NEITHER with a silly ass KDS sticker on my fucking chart from now on. I didn't want to rock the boat by being perceived as a DS. Thanks for the input folks. I'll probably go in and tell it like it is, & be honest without being paranoid. Chronic fatigue & ADD suck so bad! I'm glad someone told me about this site 8 years ago. Thanks again BLers.

_______________________________________


I completely know where you're coming from! I've always been "the moody sort" so I've been told, & I am. It sounds like your depression is clinical, not just from negative thinking. Negative thinking makes it worse, to be sure, but have you asked you're doctor if he/she thinks adding Abilify with your antidepressant might help? Abilify helps boost dopamine levels so that you get out of your depressive funk, which is why certain double combos of Abilify + Prozac or Abilify + the currant antidepressive you're taking, or Abilify + __________ insert whatever specific drug you're doc might recommend. Depressions are fucking soul suckers, I know from experience.

Also, I found this book enlightening, called "The Bipolar Survival Guide" by David J. Miklowitz, Ph D. I know you haven't complained about being bipolar, just unipolar, as in depressed, but regardless, I found some very helpful information about depression in this book.

Granted, if you actually read the whole book and DO the exercises in conjunction with 1 on 1 therapy, you will learn things about yourself that trigger the depression & make it worse. Sometimes it's certain people, certain activities, or certain circumstances that will set off for example, "you're not good enough" or "only others can ever amount to any good but not me," ect. A psychologist that’s a great therapist has no license to write Rx for medication that might help, which is why usually people see a shrink for the meds & a therapist for 1 on 1 talk or group therapy.

I got so bad with my chronic fatigue and depressive symptoms my Mom called my doc up begging her to help me because all I do is sit in my room staring about listlessly. I struggled 9months with the fatigue and finally said fuck it, but that’s another story. I'm going to see my doc & talk to her, but I'm glad I read this book I mentioned.

I figured that if anyone would know what an intense depression feels like, it would be manic depressives, as the suckage for their depressions would feel worse after having had a fun (sometimes) run but a costly as hell episode of mania. If I were bipolar, I'd say to hell with this depression crap, so what if an antidepressive agent boots me into manic episode, which tends to happen if you're bipolar. Taking antidepressants without lithium or some agent to treat the mania has gotten a couple of bipolar friends I know in trouble, sending them into a manic or "mixed" state which = trouble. Since I have a low tolerance for extended physical suffering, I'd say to hell with it I'll take the mania. Of course, I'd also land my sorry ass in a mental institution or jail as well. Mania is only fun for as long as consequences don't piss all over your party parade lol. Once 27 years ago, my much older bf who was bipolar took PCP

sending him into a manic state, so he took off his clothes & ran up and down the street he lived on naked yelling that "we're free because we're in the Garden of Eden! We're free to be naked!" A couple of neighbors tried telling him to get dressed or they will call the cops, so he punched them, & proceeded to run up & down his street wearing nothing but a dumb fuck grin, until the cops came. Two tried restraining him, so he punched them, continued running, proclaiming to be naked and free, until finally 6 cops managed to restrain him and take him to the Gray Bar Inn. His dumb grinning ass was all over the city paper with his picture from the waste up on the front page informing the readers, my dad of which was one thank you very much. Dad of course used this as further evidence as to why "shaggy head" & I shouldn't be an item. LMAO. Sorry, since you're depressed, I thought I'd try making you laugh or smile a bit perhaps with my story.

I have heard from a couple others that suffered from depression like you are now, and as a last resort tried electroshock therapy or ECT. It actually is quite effective apparently, but only as a last resort. A big draw back is the side effect of having some memory erased. Carrie Fisher wrote about it in her book, (I can't remember the name) & I've never even had 1 treatment of ECT haha. I found the book quite helpful along with the exercises. Hugs.

1/13/10 A retarded thank you to Over Done
By empty_remains


This is the only place I feel at home enough to post my shit. Part of me is weary on saying everything I feel cause there are a few people in my life that I would rather them be in the dark about my feelings. But fuck it..
There is a lot of bad places for me to go in my head and lately i've been spending too much time there. Dwelling on things I have no control over and tons of shit from my past. I've written about needing to move on and it's one of my biggest flaws. My OCD kicks in overtime and I can't make myself let the hell go. Of anything really, I've been carrying this resentment for someone for almost a year now and I try to tell myself she'll get whatever she deserves, good or bad. That it's not up to me to have any say over the possible outcome of her actions no matter what I may think. It took me talking to a close friend to realize this and I have to thank him for his help in that respect. I can admit that yes I was hoping to see her fall in anyway, but I want to be the better person here and right not she is wishing that on me so HAHA to her I'm going to take the high road on this one and do the right thing.
To state one of my flaws that I hate, yes up until the past few months I have been dragging my feet on getting my shit together. Again I have to thank my friend for giving me the inspiration to get off my self pity pot and do what I need to do. It was never that I didn't want my daughter back I was just in this downward spirial that I couldn't pull myself out of without help.
To make this clear I'm not putting you on a pedestal, I know you hate that. You've just been there for me through thick and think. Most people would ditch after the things I had put you through, and I'm thankful to have met you when I did.
So enough of that.
I'm doing the best I can now and yeah it's insanely hard but I don't want to give u until I have Syl (my daughter) safely back in my arms.
Thank you to everyone that been there for me through my sometimes insane rants and raves on this site. It means a lot to me that people who don't really know me care even enough to take the time to read and post comments on my posts..



*This is a copy of what I posted on DP, it's more what I really wanted to post on here as well as what I just did a little bit ago.*

Today is STILL Saturday, July 10th, 2010 and it is NOW 951PM and I am STILL in Sagada, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: I was blathering on about the tribes in Sagada and modern versus primitive in terms of collisions between cultures (such a lofty synopsis).

The entry: I hate to see my name with 4 or 5 entries all in a neat row. Verbosity is alright if one couches it with worthwhile thoughts. Myself though? It is that Tristram Shandy thing over and over and...fucking over.

I don't even like to post once a day but then it ends up sliding to the opposite extreme. With my BL Journal I had to actually write notes to myself to manage posting once a month, and this at a time when I had absolutely nothing to do in my offline life (having just retired and moved to the jungle). It is interesting, these small neuroses we gather about us as we move through life but there it is, another Rachamim "moment," enjoy.

As I had been saying in my last entry...The juxtapositioning of modern and primitive has always been an interesting consideration for me. One example I find quite interesting is the "expeditions" outfitted by this American bloke named Kelly something or other, over on Bali.

Bali, sadly, has become one of the most touristy places in the Pacific Rim. As is always the case, expat hucksters are drawn to the place and the most troubling of things tend to develop (I have to note that I have a bit of a bias against Bali because my comptitors in the wholesale Kratom business operate on that island). This Kelly fellow is one such expat.

American, Midwestern by accent, ponytailed and seemingly laid back, our American abroad charges (last time I heard) 10,000 US for a 10 day trip to Irin Jaya (New Guinea) for a "1st Contact Expedition."

He is selling a trip deep into the bush where he says you will have the greatest of chances to run across tribesmen who have never seen a modern human, and certainly have never seen a non-Melanesian, etc.

A while back that wonderful invention, "Youtube," had a several part series of a documentary taken on 1 such "expedition." The producers were on a trip that I believe was being sponsored by "Outdoor Magazine," an American publication. I had been hearing about Kelly for about 3 years, during seasonal trips to the region and his cache had been exponentially building. Indeed, I would not at all be phased if he was still running about and charging 25,000 US or more.

On the trip in question they arrive in-country and meet Kelly's local contacts, "civilised" tribesmen who have "heard" about an uncontacted tribe about a day up river and a day treking inland. Off they go.

Then, setting up camp deep in the jungle they supposedly run across an "elder" (younger than me because in truth, primitive man rarely lives past 40) and a 3 acolytes going through a puberty ceremony.

Night falls and the documentarian is in his tent when the 4 "uncontacted" tribesmen literally run through the camp shrieking at the top of their lungs.

Needless to say the narrator feels it is a hoax but cannot be certain. Indeed he asks whether Kelly himself is being played by his "contacts" who obviously depend on being well paid for these trips.

The point, basically, is that in today's world it is highly improbable that there is a tribe in existence that isn't fairly aware of the modern world. There are indeed tribes choosing to live their traditional ways of life, with a minimum of modern disruption and influence, but they CHOOSE to be "Uncontacted."

One very, very interesting tribe within this dynamic is the "Tasaday," of Mindanao. In 1971 President (Dictator) Marcos declared Martial Law.The world was closely watching, and criticising what took place in this country, especially on Mindanao where the Islamic insurgency had become a cause celebre among Muslims the world over, and there are a whole lot of Muslims.

Magicians are adept at sleight of hand, and even more so at "directed inattention." Get the audience to look at 1 thing while you do another, more important thing. Enter stage left a very intelligent Marcos crony who hatched a marvelous scheme, or so they say...

In 1971 a local hunter from S.Cotabato Province told the local world that he had "found" a stone age tribe living deep in the bush of Mindanao. The small band, living in a cave, had no words for to signify possesion, jealousy, strife, or personal violence. They lived in harmony with their environment, which in this case meant eating tadpoles and crickets and had only limited interaction with a similar band they said they hadn't seen for "many seasons," despite noone in Mindanao ever hearing of another similar group.

Marcos sent his crony, in a copter, to visit with the tribe, after which he literally fenced them in on a sort of human game reserve, and strictly controlled their interaction with the outside world.

To speed up the story a bit, this tribe, the Tasaday, were visited years later and found to be living modern lives, with all its modern putfalls and none had succumbed to diseases that should have killed them. They had "inter married" with a much more modern Hilltribe and so the accepted narrative was that the whole thing had been a Marcos hoax, to deflect criticism for atrocities committed against local Muslims.

The interesting thing I think, is that still later, scientists supposedly concluded that the tribe actually did exist, did adapt successfully, and hadn't been part of any hoax at any time.

So what about the tribes here in Northern Luzon? Very interesting groups, certainly, and perhaps best known to foreigners for the work having been done with them by American anthropologist William H.Scott, a man I believe I would have despised had I ever met him. I would love to bore you with THAT bit of "Rachamim" mystique but alas, it is time for a bit of chocolate hashish and a talk with the attractive Swiss woman also staying at this pension (shhhhh, don't tell Jackie!).

I spent last night in my old house, wide awake all night long. I just kept walking up[ and down the steps that lead to our bedroom. I'd reach the doorway and start crying. Run back down stairs and do it again once I pulled myself together.

Before last night I made a trip to see someone I thought was an ex. I listened to him scream right in my face about how I fucked everything up, I'm a horrible mother, I need to grow up and STOP FUCKING CRYING! I couldn't take it he wouldn't give me a phone to use, the bus had already stopped running for the night. So I slipped up again, I walked out his door with only my blade. He saw the drops on his floor and came after me. (theres so much more to say..about what happened) heh at that point he did let me use the phone. he let me use it once, i called someone that i trust whole heartedly and miss very much.

Anyway i ended up staying there for the night.
More things i'm not proud of, things i can't say around the tears.

Syl, you are my sunshine & i hope you never read any of this

The first doctor i went to wanted me to go to an in patient detox, that's not what i asked for i told him what i needed, he said nope cant help you there. so i said screw you then ill go to a doctor that will.

I drove 3 hours 131 miles one way to my home town to see my main doctor who wrote me the scripts and sent me on my way. I love her

Took my last cap at 7. Washed and Cleaned my car at 7 finished at 10. Let the tapering begin.

Today is July 16th, 2010 and it is now 557AM on a ferry in the Sulu Sea, en route to Mindanao, from Manila.

Recap: See above, shit ain't changed.

This entry: Well, I guess something has changed since the typhoon, which became a cyclone and killed more than 1000 people here has ended. Mindanao has everything wrong with it that can go wrong: floods, mudslides, famine, volcanoes,tsunamis, dengue,cholera, malaria, schitomosis (Rizza's mom has it, so called "Snail Disease"), piracy and of course multiple insurgencies. It does not have typhoons though. Luzon on the other hand has several each year.

Sun is coming up over the water, absolutely stunning tropical sunrises are. Last night we pulled into Mindoro for 12 hours, the waters were too rough even for an ocean going ferry. Basically bounced around in a bay, they can't anchor in a storm apparently, so they just moved to and fro, the bay being sheltered made it calmer and safer.

I just took a double dose of morphine and nodded off into some goat and rice I bought off an enterprising old lady here in Economy, sucked without water but that's life.

Got another offline from Rizza, just a note telling me she was online and wanting to IM. She had said in that other note, the 1 that pissed me off, that she wanted to move to England and be a Care Giver but needs money for some bullshit course.

She has a BS, then she was in nursing school but quit when she shacked up with Mr.Goiter so hey, go ask Bumpy Neck, I am supporting a woman I don't love in Manila, 1 is enough even if you have paper on me.

I have been thinking for a little while now to offload my investments here, preferablly to her parents. Even if they don't want to waste the capital I would accept payments with a decent down payment first. I had never wanted to settle here, it was all for Rizza whose parents I had promised. I had been saying for years that when I left the IDF Rizza and I would settle in the compound and give them grandchildren. That worked out sooooooo well and now I am stuck.

If given a choice? Pnohm Pehn all the way! I would love to settle in Yunnan in China but can't swing the residency. I love Cambodia but then, with no woman, no family I would be like those tumbleweeds, in their 50s and 60s hanging out in backpacker digs.

In PP the breakfast of choice for locals, and for me, is cracked steamed white rice (white rice chopped up with a cleaver), roasted fat back (like gristly porkchop) or alternatively a roasted chicken wing with hardly any meat. The obiquitous condiment is some shredded cabbage and carrot and a cloyingly sweet and sour sauce.

This costs all of 3000 Riel (4200 Riel equals 1 US or did last trip in 2 years ago). Not bad, fills you right up and I loved mine with 1200 mgs DHC (dihydrocdeinone), 60 mgs valium and and a nice antihistamine, promethazine, but I"m funny that way.

Anyway, each morning at sunrise, as I waded out, "waded" because streets on or around Street 85 were absolute bogs, I would see one of those older, rootless souls. His clothes were formal but threadbare and I always felt badly for the man.

I shouldn't have, he is in a place where 1 can live on 4 US a day, food included and all sorts of debauchery abounds, never bored.

Still, when I think of moving there I end up shuddering thinking of him...

JJ Cale said it. Wrote it. Sang it. And I’m feeling it. She don’t lie, cocaine. In fact, she’s the fucking berries.

When you’re feeling this good, the music sounds perfect, the temperature is awesome, the company, no matter how limited is fabulous and the beer tastes like honey. It’s all good. It’s all bad, of course, but, fuck it’s good.

I’ve taken coke in places where most people won’t even dare to go. I’ve paid for it in currencies varying from a smile to a fuck. I’ve loved it and hated it. I’ve yearned for it when I needed it and I couldn’t have it. But there’s nothing like it. There’s nothing like feeling like god, even though you know deep down inside that you are so far from god you have horns and a tail. Fuck it.

I’m god. I’m Layla. I’m Jolene. I’m Lucile. I’m Charlotte Sometimes and every single cool woman anyone’s ever written a song about. I’m me. Just better. The infinite ‘fuck this’ feeling that good quality (and highly unsuspecting) coke gives you is better than a round of applause at the local Y. It’s pure evil and godliness all wrapped up in a red plastic wrapper, siffed, chopped and snarfed. It’s what dreams that end in tragedies are made of. You know you’re fucking up, you know you’re so doing the wrong thing and loving the wrong, most ungodly substance, but damn it’s so good. And why not. You only live once, right?

It changes you. Mentally, for sure. I mean, you’re taking fucking excellent coke. And then it changes you physically. You feel better. Beautiful. Softer. Lighter. Happier (dead giveaway). It pushes what one would call your “happy buttons”. It takes away all the bad things. You know the bad things are still there, but you don’t give two shits. No sir. You still have the same issues. The same shit, difference is, you don’t give a fuck. And that is what makes it so fucking cool. What else can do that? What else can make you not give a fuck about all the nasties. Don’t know about you, but sometimes you just have to say, “Well, why the hell not?”

i am writing to let everyone know that the landlord in Lumberton, TX by the name of he rents out torn down trailor and mobile homes. he will not give you your deposit no matter what the circumstances are. he evicted us after only being late three days. two of those days were the weekend. the third fell on a saturday and it is not a business day, neither is sunday. so even if we would have paid he still would have said that we were late. what a drunk he is. outside the city lumberton, tx . the man is a drunk, the rabid dogs run wild. k and doesn't know how to be a resposible landlord. he shows favoritism to other tennants, for example, our dog had to be penned up and in a pen at all times. while all the other dogs in the trailor park are running loose. what a hippocrite. if i would have known that he would have done this i certainly would have not rented from this man. is a no-count, dishonest, and person. somebody pray for him. i might pray that his brakes go out while going downhill on a steep road. i pray that all his income is liquidated and he drinks is all away. 10:00 in the morning and he has a beer in his hand. what the hell?


(I edited out names and addresses. Please do not include this in your Blogs or comments. Thanks so smuch.-Ocean)

Some may remember me; others, not so much. My name is James, though I electronically represent myself (and DJ) under the guise of 'vaya.' I live in Philadelphia, PA and have just completed my tenure at the Pennsylvania State University.

I'll allow some sort of array of information about myself to be represented here. That is, that which you may need to know in order to make sense of the things I will undoubtedly compose here in the future I am currently 23 (but there remains only three weeks until my 24th birthday in August [born on 8/8/86 in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania]). I just graduated from the Pennsylvania State University with a B.S. (Bachelor of Science) in Biological/Evolutionary Psychology. I intend to take the GRE's this upcoming fall and, pending those results, apply to a graduate school program with the intent of achieving a Ph.D in clinical psychology.

I am a donating and contributing member of Erowid, with experience reports exceeding thirty or forty. The Shroomery, marijuana.com, lycaeum and Entheogen all heftily contributed to my involvement with the online subculture. Which brings us to me and Bluelight.

I have been a member of Bluelight since before its server was moved. August 2003 ushered in a new era of substance-related knowledge, phenomena, intrigue and friendship, all facilitated by this wonderful online community. At that time, I don't believe Blogs existed; I dont even think they were *nearly* as popular worldwide as they are now. 'Blog' was not so familiar as 'Google' in those days.

I mention these anecdotes, these nuances and nostalgias, to introduce the first point I want to make in this Blog entry; it is my first Blog entry. I am wholly unfamiliar with the Comments feature, but more importantly, with the concept of keeping a public journal on the internet. The idea intrigues, excites and frightens me, but I have decided for myself to plunge into the icy water, because I know it will not take long for me to adjust to the intimate information we disclose to one another. In a sense, a Blog Community creates friendships, albeit largely in the absence of face-to-face interaction. The advent of worldwide internet has, to some extent (and dismay), rendered in-person interactions irrelevant to the forming of friendships, and I really hope that I get to know some of you who keep Blogs better, based off of who you are and now what your comments may insinuate about your personality via the Forums.

My interests are few, but I am fiercely involved with each one. The first, and perhaps the most obvious, are drugs. Neurology, neuropsychology, biology and pharmacokinetics & pharmacodynamics absolutely fascinate me. In highschool, I spent more time doing research on such topics than I did school work. To me, knowledge is a hobby, and one that is most precious to me. Thus, I consider myself (by means of rigorous college-level study and hundreds (if not thousands lol) of hours of online research) quite learned in the aforementioned realms of knowledge that fascinate me. And I really enjoy bringing with me that type and intensity of enthusiasm to a community such as this one because if I get feedback on my Blog entries or anything else, I can expect genuine, kind and informed responses. I feel I can expect this given my experience with those involved in this community, those dedicated to BL, .

The second major interest that nearly dominates my life is EDM - that is, Electronic Dance Music. Now, I do NOT mean cheesy Eiffel 65 nonsense, or even the candy-kid rave music that dominated the 1990's. I can still get down to the roots of EDM, predominately "House" music in the mid- to late-80's. My primary interest, however, is the current scenes revolving around gnarly Tech House, Breakbeat, Deep House, and classy Techno (not Detroit techno; real productions). I even delve back into Progressive House when the mood strikes me. I have devoted much of the past six years to this activity, and it means the world to me - what I have seen, been a part of, experienced, and worked for. I even DJ myself, and consider my taste to be quite refined and spot-on (as confirmed by nearly every person I've met, too. Sorry, this is bit of a vanity moment for me!).

The last, but not nearly least, source of constant attention in my life is my beloved girlfriend, Morgan; we just celebrated our anniversary on July 2nd. I will likely marry this beautiful Sicilian nymph, but that ought to be the subject of a different entry, don't you think?

I want to thoroughly explain why I took such a long hiatus from Bluelight, as I believe I moderated here for a time in the early days (though my memory is failing me), but that ought be the subject of the next entry as well.

I look forward to contributing to this community. You all seem like such real people - hardly surprising for BL in general, but its just nice to interact with that real-ness on a more personal level.

And, if you've made an honest attempt to hear me (and have landed yourself this far in a rather long introductory entry), I salute you. If any viewers out there wish to introduce themselves to me, or leave thoughts about what I have written, I would love to hear from some of you.

Whichever way the wind blows determines the majestic cloud cover....

Namaste.

~ vaya :D

Article here: http://www.psychologytoday.com/articles/200808/cult-clean

...illuminating.

I knew I wasn't a loon for not overestimating the dangers of all things earthbound, microscopic and potentially invasive.

What more can be said about a subject so near and dear to so many branded as villains, hippies, low class, snobbish junkies?
Getting high, wired, speedy, connected, sorted, snarfed, I can call it whatever i want but i cant come close to expressing what those before me, the Freuds, Hunter S Thomas’, Eltons’ or the Wolfe’s of our time have already so poetically and romantically branded it.
I can only speak from my own experience with what has over the years become a ‘drug of choice’. Yes, it’s a drug, and I take it by choice. Gladly, whenever I can. It’s the promise of oblivion, the sweet almost-there taste of absolution. Salvation, even. Sometimes it leaves you in ecstasy, other times it breaks your heart and leaves you wanting more but knowing full well that more could ultimately result in less.
The wicked lure of its aroma, the bittersweet taste of its core and then the sometimes heavenly abyss – a stumble, tumble and fall that can only be done with a smile – it gives you no choice. The smile, the bliss is mandatory.
It’s most probably the most in-the-moment experience – all consequences, all reasoning falls away and it’s just you and the alluring trail of temporary happiness. To me it’s come in dingy bathrooms, dives, digs, flats, mansions, toilets, cars, floors, and once even on the back of an anonymous lover.
Oh but as much as it’s showed me love, it’s broken my heart, shattered my being and drove me to my knees. It stabbed me in the back. It turned on me and betrayed my love, it used me. And yet I got back. Like a battered wife, an ignorant, juvenile lover, I can’t help but hold it and say “It’s okay. This time it’ll be different.”

Today is Wednesday, July 14, 2010 and it is now 432PM here on a ferry in the South China Sea, off of Mindoro, Philippines.

Recap: Came home from Sagada, paid for an operation for a kid in Jackie's compound.

This Entry: I am heading back to Mindanao, on a ferry, since I promised everyone down there that I would come at least once every 2 weeks to fufill my various obligations.

I am riding Economy, which as I have spoken about in the past, is simply a single bunk on an open deck filled with bunk beds. It it not a top deck so we have 1 above us serving as a roof but the sides of the deck are open. When it rains they pull down thin plastic tarps to keep the shower to a minumum but some always gets in unless you are sleeping in the centre of the deck.

Interestingly, I am in Signal 2 Seas right now, a typhoon. I spoke about another ferry, the "Princess," that capsised 2 years ago in Signal 3 (I believe it was 3). More than 1000 dead and in fact this week they are still pulling skeletons out, as the ship is still on the bottom.

Since that sinking, 2 years ago, ships can only leave in No Signal Seas, if a typhoon is on the menu. When we left 9 hours ago there was no Signal, so we set sail, but now? Hahahahah funnnnnn but I feel so bad for most here.

Why is it in a nation of literally 7,107 islands, virtually nobody can swim? Most bathe and wash clothes in rivers, many work in rice paddies and yet they cannot even float or "doggie paddle"?

At least I am alone if something goes wrong.

I got an offline IM from of all people, Rizza. She is telling me that since I am "having an affair" I should just annul our marriage. Sometimes I truly wonder about her. She ran away with a man, is sleeping in his bed but I am the one with an affair?

Usually it makes me laugh when I read her words but this time it pissed me off, not sure why. I told her curtly that of course I will annul if it is at all possible but of course it isn't. The Philippines is 1 of only 2 nations in existence that bars divorce, the other being Malta.

So, if you are thinking of marrying a Maltese (yeah, it COULD happen) or a Filipina (or Filipino) think long and hard (oooooh, imagery again).

Annulment IS allowed but nearly impossible to get and you have to prove your partner has mental problems, etc, quite messy.

Why is there no divorce? The Philippines prides itself on its family values. Yet, men mostly all cheat, have multiple families but most troubling (to me) is that there is a parallel system of law for Muslims that DOES allow divorce.

A Filipina cannot marry until 18. From 18 to 25 she needs her father's signature. A Muslim woman can marry at 14, though younger cases are allowed with proper signatures.

This dual system is asinine. We have multiple systems in Israel, but there are absolute minimums spready evenly. Ergo, we never have cases such as Jackie's, where a non-Muslim marries a Muslim and then produces a huge conflict between the systems.

Jackie ran away with the guy when she had just turned 17, he was 32. After hiding for 4 months he brought her to his parents and had an uncle of his, who he said was an Imam (Islamic clergyman) to officiate at their "marriage."

Islamic marriages in the Philippines require that the girl's father or legal male guardian as the case may be, sign a wedding contract. He is the "walid."

The contract has a dowry, called a "mehr," that is to be paid to Jackie in installments, immediately after marriage, after 1st son, etc.

These are very important theologically. Then the contract has to be filed within 15 days of signing, with a Muslim Registrant.

To get around the fact that she was non-Muslim and 17 he did 2 things: 1) He had Jackie sign an affadavit that he didn't kidnap her (his tribe,Tausug, believes in kidnap marriage and if they do it to non-tribe members they can be tried on a capital offence), and that she is entering freely into the marriage without coercion. 2) He "converted" her. In Islam you can become Muslim simply by saying a single sentence recognising Allah as the only deity and Muhammad as His messenger. Philippine Law though requires an actual certificate issued by a governmental authority.

How did he convert Jackie? His mum came and told her, "OK? Now you are Muslim," literally. Hahahahahahahaah.

When you file a Marriage Certificate you get a receipt, and they mail you back an official copy with a seal.

She never saw an official copy, or any copy. He showed a receipt that came from a store, instead of the detailed receipt given by the Registar. Never really converted her BUT even if he had, there is the issue of age and background.

He stupidly believed the affadavit would protect him. First, it shows fore knowledge, that by obtaining the affadavit he realised he was doing something wrong. A Muslim girl doesn't require such a paper, why obtain it? Fear of prosecution.

Under "walid" on the contract his uncle signed, again illegal, as only her legal male guardian can sign it. Finally, not 1 iota of any dowry was ever paid.

After she ran away, when I was IMing with her sister, she threatened Jackie and myself with legal action. In fact, in the Philippines running away from a marriage can get you sent to prison though in reality it very rarely happens. The few cases that I know of personally always ended in fines, albeit with a criminal conviction.

I laughed, I asked for what, and of course she said for Jackie abandoning him. I lauhed again and I told her:

Rachamim: Really?

Sis: Yes, REALLY!

R: Oooooooh, you promise? I want you to swear because I would LOVE that, absolutely love it.

*Dead silence*

R:I want him to file so I can file kidnapping against him. Maybe they will let me push the button when he gets Lethal Injection.

S: WHAT?

*Dead silence*

S: How could you do that?

R: Ask him to show you his Marriage Certificate. Ask him. But of course you already know that she was 17 then.

S:She converted!

R: Ask him for the Conversion Certificate, required by law.

S:But what about her kids!!!? You must accept her kids if you want her!

R: Of course I accept them, but Jackie doesn't want any part of that man and they are half his.

S: Tell Jackie that if she doesn't come home he will send the baby (her son) to Saudi Arabia!

R: Tell him to trade the baby for 15 camels...oh, and tell him to be sure he breast feeds it as well.

*Dead silence*

S: Can you come here? Since you are making a life with my sister the family wishes to see you and know you.

R: Sure, that would be great. In a few years I will contact you and we can have a soda together.

S: No, I meant now.

R: Sorry, the answer is no.If I were to go I am afraid of bloodshed.

S: We would never harm you, we are educated people!

R: I wasn't talking about anyone harming ME? I was worried about what I might do.

*Short silence*

R: Well, it has been real elder sister but I am out of here.I don't see the point of continuing our talk. See you in a few years maybe.

Monday July 12th 2010 10:00 am

Legit done. I cant do this shit no more. My mind is all fucked up. I dunno what the fuck is wrong wit me, but if something doesn’t change soon ima fuckin leave this place. Seriously I don’t know what happened but I spiraled downward for the worst… again. Huh, who woulda guessed, me, taking a turn for the worst. Im obviously doomed to live this cycle over and over again no matter what good or bad is goin on in my life.

I feel alone. Like completely and utterly alone. I have no one to talk to, to tell about any of this shit. My BF doesn’t wanna hear it, which I can understand. I didn’t realize that I told him so much when we first got together, n now somehow I have to change it. I cant tell him anymore, he obviously knows way more than he ever wanted to.

I don’t sleep, I don’t sleep, I don’t do anything. If I stop doin my homework, or whatever the fuck else im doing, my mind becomes consumed with blackness. I cant get away from it. I am stressed the fuck out, like to the fuckin max. Im at a point right now where I don’t know what is up n what is down. I wanna legit crawl into a hole and die. Im never gonna be that normal girl, its jus not in the cards for me. Im doomed to b the depressed lil fuck up that ive always been. No matter how hard I fight to become something better, my thoughts will always get the best of me. This is me, its who I am.

My BF deserves better, he deserves someone with a good head on their shoulders. I mean look at us: My BF, in the army, has a career, has a car, a job, and a future. He has stress in his life, but its all stuff that he can handle, not saying my shit is worse by any means, but he knows how to handle shit… Me, im fuckin 23 yr old with no where to call home. No one wants me around, im jus a piece of shit that somehow always ends up getting by. I work at the fuckin mall and I cant even handle that. School is kickin my fuckin ass and I cant keep up. I cant even find the time, or the energy to clean the fish tanks or clean the house. I have this horrible addictive personality that is never gonna change. Its me, its who I am. I get stressed and try to run from it rather than jus deal wit it.

I think My BF hates me deep down, but jus doesn’t want to see anything bad happen to me. H With me in his life he is doomed to live a life where he isn’t ever truly happy. I gotta get away from him for his sake, I fuckin love him so much to the point that it hurts. Loving him the way I do, I cant possibly stay wit him. He fuckin deserves better. I gotta find a way to leave. He doesn’t want me to, but I know its jus cuz hes scared for me. I mean fuck that’s what he told me. Legit I don’t know what to do. I wanna tell him I have somewhere to go and tht ill b fine, but its not the truth. I have no where to go, I have no one, escept him.

But he doesn’t want me, and I don’t blame him, hes right, ima fuckin psycho. I cant fight these urges anymore. I wanna jus, I dunno, I wanna feel something. Im sick of this empty feeling inside me. Im sick of hiding everything from the world. Im sick of this pretend smile on my face. I wanna cut the bull shit out, literally. I cant be here anymore, here being anywhere. I wanna legit run away as fast and as far as I can. I wanna stop hurting everyone around me. I wanna just die. I cant fuckin do it anymore.

Im out, wit lke 8 days, I prob wont b able to handle it. Ima take it out on My BF, I know I will. Ima try so hard not to, but its inevitable. Why do I do thid? Why do u I hurt the onle person I have in my life? Why cant I just be happy wit what I got? So what if he doesn’t wanna hear me, I wouldn’t wanna either. The poor guy is tryina picture me to b as normal as he possibly can, and then I come out wit some stupid psycho babble bull shit.

Bottom line, I gotts either put a straight face on n wealk into this shit looking happy, or I need to bow out gracefully and let him move on. I cant b that sad pathetic lil girl anymore. I so jus want ppl to look at me n see someone normal, n no matter how hard I try it will never happen. I mean I wear it on my sleeves, literally. My scarlet letter is these fuckin scars. I can never hide from them. WTF was I thinking all those years? Y didn’t I think of the futire? O that’s right, I didn’t think there would b one. So now im stuck, stuck wit these literal scars to remind me everyday of the past. He says to leave the past in the poast, but how do I do that when I have to look at it everyday. I remember just about every scar, when I did it, where I was, and why I did it. How do u jus leave that in the past? People stare at me, sometimes they ask questions. The guy at DD yesterday asked me what happened. I cant stand that.

Im afraid of everything, legit everything. I cant b near ppl cuz ill have a panic attack, I cant b alone cuz ill do something stupid. Nothing works, nothing will ever work. Im doomed. Life suks then you die. I wish the second part would either hurry up and come, or for me to not look forward to it so much.

The other week wit thast fuckin heart attack, I thought it was the end, I was so scared, but at the same tme I was excited. Yea, fucked I no. He asked y I didn’t jus call 911. Well the truth, I wanted to see what would happen. I was scared yes, and wanted his help, but I knew in my mind he wasn’t comin here. I atleast wanted to feel like I reached out. It wouldn’t have been his fault by any means, but all mine. Who wouldn’t jus call 911? Me that’s who. I wanted to see if I could really jus let myself die. They say that upper death is the worst that u can have, not like downs, but wit up u will feel everything and know exactly what is coming. I wanted to feel it. I was ready. Im so fucked.

On the other hand, I didn’t want any of that. I want to get better and kick all this shit. I want to live a fuckin normal life. I want to go to the movies wit my love, I want to go to sleep next to him, and wakr up next to him. I miss the nights where he would b half asleep n tell me he loves me. God I miss him so much. WTF did I do? Y do I always ruin everything? Nothing will ever b the same. Hes done wit me, its basically jus a waiting game now. Im waiting to see when he leaves me.

Legit, without him I am nothing. If he leaves me im doomed. I no exactly what will happen. I will go to some motel for a few days, then realize I cant afford it. Ill leave there and begin wandering again, jus like the old days. Ill get caught up in some bull shit, like usual, and beofer I no it, it’s a year later and im either married to some weirdo, addicted to something, homeless on the streets, or god forbid a whore or something. Legit, its my calling. My life has alwayd been doomed. My destiny is to be another statistic.

I will end up alone and I will die alone. Its how it was meant to be. I need to jus stop fighting it and let the future become the present.

That’s it, Im fuckin done, Ima go try to salvage what little I have left. Lets see how this shit works.

8 mutha fuckin days. Can I do it? Lol let’s see me demonstrate will power, guaranteed ill be freakin by the the end of the day.

Saturday 10 Jul 2010.


My gf is at the Oregon Country Fair for the weekend, and I am stayin ghome baby-sitting her cat who was recently mauled by a dog.

Eloise cat's condition continues to improve. Her wounds aren't leaking any more, but they are still open. I'm cleaning them once a day. She's still on antibiotics and kitty morphine. Her mood is better too. Today, she was walking about and socializing with the other cat and with me. Now, she's bathing herself on the bar in the "Tiki" themed room (it came with the house) in the basement.

Oregon Country Fair. I went last year. Expensive to get in for what it is. It is not what I had expectede ti to be. I was told that it was a kind of non-commercialized hippie music festival, a wild grateful dead/ken kesey scene with plenty of marijuana, shrooms, and LSD. It wasn't. It was very very family oriented, crowded with aging hippy/yuppy types and children everywhere adn everyone very sober, drug-free, and expensive. I won't go again.

My gf took care of me before she left. She cooked and individually wrapped enough food to get me through the entire weekend without haveing to eat out. She spoils me.

The kratom is kicking in, and it's making me nauseous. I took several capsules of extract about 1/2 hours ago. I'm itching like a fiend. Time to lie down.

Today is Tuesday, June 29, 2010 and it is now 1033 AM here in Quezon City, Luzon, Philippines. Why Quezon City? I will get to that...eventually...like everything else...

Recap: I was discussing pro-govt. paramilitaries in Mindanao.

Though the government didn't create the BLA, it has created several IP (Indigenous Peoples) paramilitaries: LUPAKA (now defunct), Bagani Force (Warriors Force), Alamara Command (Total War Command) and BDFs (Barangay Defense Forces), the spelling as such since the Filipinos have opted to use American spelling for their English, English being an official language here.

These paras come under an umbrella known as "Task Force Gantangan." TF Gantangan is under a protocol known as "OPLAN Alsa Lumad" (Operational Plan Hilltribes Rise). OPLAN AL is in turn a subsidiary protocol od "OPLAN Bantay Laya II," (Operational Plan Guarding Freedom II) which is itself formulated under the military's NISP-IP (National Internal Security Plan-Indigenous Peoples).

OPLAN BL II is the nationwide military strategy to deal with the Maoist Insurgency. I have to add that many things I am talking about can get me into serious hotwater but I have this curious tic, always playing the odds, go figure.

Bantay Laya II began in the beginning of 2007, and was just beginning to roll when I moved to Mindanao.

The NPA (New People's Army) is the military wing of the CPP (Communist Party of the Philippines) and both are represented in dialogue by the NDF (National Democratic Front). All of them are the handwork of "JOMA," Jose Maria Sison, an ex UP (University of the Ph.) Professor currently in self-imposed exile in the Netherlands with the vanguard of the movement's leadership.

JOMA copped Mao's "Little Red Book' almost word for word, the same 3 Phases of Struggle, yada, yada. Anyone who cares can basicallly juxtapose Maoism Proper and it is going to be a 95% fit.

The date cited for the beginning of their "armed struggle" is 1969 but really is 1971, when Marcos declared Martial Law. 40 years later and they are the longest running insurgency in all of Asia, maybe the world. To put this in perspective, JOMA, their chief ideologue as well as founder, insists that they are but in the middle of their Phase I. There are, as I said, 3 Phases!

Though found in many parts of the country they are not a military threat, except on Mindanao where they control vast areas of the island, collect taxes, mete justice, run Checkpoints and so forth.

The paras are meant to help deal with this.

When I first came to this nation, in 1984, the NPA was at its apex. It was a nationwide threat and on Mindanao fielded batallion sized forces (700 to 1000 fighters), even routing the AFP (Ph Army) in head to head battle. But then they stalled.

JOMA had been arrested by Marcos in 1977 and from then until his release in 1984 (with the fall of Marcos) his movement expanded exponentially and outgrew its ideology.

The Manila and Negros factions of the party, operating primarily in urban environments gravitated towards orthadox Marxism-Leninism. In a nutshell, where as Maosim is a movement of rural peasents Leninism is a movment of urban workers, factoryhands and service people.

JOMA got out in 1984 and moved quickly yo crush this dissent, which translated into mass executions Khmer Rouge style, beaten to death with tree limbs to save bullets, etc.

Leninist ideologues would not be put off though, and the Manila and Negros factioned formed a Leninist movement of their own. Their armed wing is worth mentioning, ABB, Alex Boncayo Brigade.

ABB was fond of assasinating in urban settings, killing more than 100 police officers in 4 months at 1 point but gained most reknown for killing a CIA station chief in Manila, and Col Rowe, US pointman on COIN (Counterinsurgency).

Eventually a faction in Mindanao oriented towards that same Leninist ideology broke off as well as formed the RPM-M (Revolutionary Proletariat Movement of Mindanao).

RPM-M's armed wing made a name for itself though most killings by the Leninists resulted from communal warfare with the Maoists.

While the Manila-Negros organisation petered out, the RPM-M finished a drawn out peace process in 2007, shortly after I arrived after moving. They never disarmed but were never really a formidable threat to begin with.

The NPA, from 40,000 guerillas in 1986 are down to 5000, with 3500 on Mindanao. 3500 men with M16s and Claymore landmines can still do damage as the 2 Divisions fighting them would tell you.

In addition to 3500 Regulars (full time fighters living in the bush) there perhaps 10,000 Irregulars on Mindanao as well. Milisya ng Bayan (People's Militia) is the name of the NPA Irregular apparattus, the Maoist equivalent of CAFGU.

So, I began forming my "SS," I and 3 other landholders began holding regular meetings, coming to terms on costs, accessing, and began drawing a training outline. We decided on AR15s BUT also M16A1s. M16s would be our standard rifle, but soldiers with more than 1 year service would be elieble for an AR depending upon disciplinary record and personal review (how long in community, etc because of exceesive cost of the weapon)...

To be continued...

Monday July 12th 2010 10:00 am

Legit done. I cant do this shit no more. My mind is all fucked up. I dunno what the fuck is wrong wit me, but if something doesn’t change soon ima fuckin leave this place. Seriously I don’t know what happened but I spiraled downward for the worst… again. Huh, who woulda guessed, me, taking a turn for the worst. Im obviously doomed to live this cycle over and over again no matter what good or bad is goin on in my life.
I feel alone. Like completely and utterly alone. I have no one to talk to, to tell about any of this shit. Pierre doesn’t wanna hear it, which I can understand. I didn’t realize that I told him so much when we first got together, n now somehow I have to change it. I cant tell him anymore, he obviously knows way more than he ever wanted to.
I don’t sleep, I don’t sleep, I don’t do anything. If I stop doin my homework, or whatever the fuck else im doing, my mind becomes consumed with blackness. I cant get away from it. I am stressed the fuck out, like to the fuckin max. Im at a point right now where I don’t know what is up n what is down. I wanna legit crawl into a hole and die. Im never gonna be that normal girl, its jus not in the cards for me. Im doomed to b the depressed lil fuck up that ive always been. No matter how hard I fight to become something better, my thoughts will always get the best of me. This is me, its who I am.
Pierre deserves better, he deserves someone with a good head on their shoulders. I mean look at us: Pierre, in the army, has a career, has a car, a job, and a future. He has stress in his life, but its all stuff that he can handle, not saying my shit is worse by any means, but he knows how to handle shit… Me, im fuckin 23 yr old with no where to call home. No one wants me around, im jus a piece of shit that somehow always ends up getting by. I work at the fuckin mall and I cant even handle that. School is kickin my fuckin ass and I cant keep up. I cant even find the time, or the energy to clean the fish tanks or clean the house. I have this horrible addictive personality that is never gonna change. Its me, its who I am. I get stressed and try to run from it rather than jus deal wit it.
I think Pierre hates me deep down, but jus doesn’t want to see anything bad happen to me. H With me in his life he is doomed to live a life where he isn’t ever truly happy. I gotta get away from him for his sake, I fuckin love him so much to the point that it hurts. Loving him the way I do, I cant possibly stay wit him. He fuckin deserves better. I gotta find a way to leave. He doesn’t want me to, but I know its jus cuz hes scared for me. I mean fuck that’s what he told me. Legit I don’t know what to do. I wanna tell him I have somewhere to go and tht ill b fine, but its not the truth. I have no where to go, I have no one, escept him.
But he doesn’t want me, and I don’t blame him, hes right, ima fuckin psycho. I cant fight these urges anymore. I wanna jus, I dunno, I wanna feel something. Im sick of this empty feeling inside me. Im sick of hiding everything from the world. Im sick of this pretend smile on my face. I wanna cut the bull shit out, literally. I cant be here anymore, here being anywhere. I wanna legit run away as fast and as far as I can. I wanna stop hurting everyone around me. I wanna just die. I cant fuckin do it anymore.
Im out, wit lke 8 days, I prob wont b able to handle it. Ima take it out on Pierre, I know I will. Ima try so hard not to, but its inevitable. Why do I do thid? Why do u I hurt the onle person I have in my life? Why cant I just be happy wit what I got? So what if he doesn’t wanna hear me, I wouldn’t wanna either. The poor guy is tryina picture me to b as normal as he possibly can, and then I come out wit some stupid psycho babble bull shit.
Bottom line, I gotts either put a straight face on n wealk into this shit looking happy, or I need to bow out gracefully and let him move on. I cant b that sad pathetic lil girl anymore. I so jus want ppl to look at me n see someone normal, n no matter how hard I try it will never happen. I mean I wear it on my sleeves, literally. My scarlet letter is these fuckin scars. I can never hide from them. WTF was I thinking all those years? Y didn’t I think of the futire? O that’s right, I didn’t think there would b one. So now im stuck, stuck wit these literal scars to remind me everyday of the past. He says to leave the past in the poast, but how do I do that when I have to look at it everyday. I remember just about every scar, when I did it, where I was, and why I did it. How do u jus leave that in the past? People stare at me, sometimes they ask questions. The guy at DD yesterday asked me what happened. I cant stand that.
Im afraid of everything, legit everything. I cant b near ppl cuz ill have a panic attack, I cant b alone cuz ill do something stupid. Nothing works, nothing will ever work. Im doomed. Life suks then you die. I wish the second part would either hurry up and come, or for me to not look forwatd to it so much.
The other week wit thast fuckin heart attack, I thought it was the end, I was so scared, but at the same tme I was excited. Yea, fucked I no. He asked y I didn’t jus call 911. Well the truth, I wanted to see what would happen. I was scared yes, and wanted his help, but I knew in my mind he wasn’t comin here. I atleast wanted to feel like I reached out. It wouldn’t have been his fault by any means, but all mine. Who wouldn’t jus call 911? Me that’s who. I wanted to see if I could really jus let myself die. They say that upper death is the worst that u can have, not like downs, but wit up u will feel everything and know exactly what is coming. I wanted to feel it. I was ready. Im so fucked.
On the other hand, I didn’t want any of that. I want to get better and kick all this shit. I want to live a fuckin normal life. I want to go to the movies wit my love, I want to go to sleep next to him, and wakr up next to him. I miss the nights where he would b half asleep n tell me he loves me. God I miss him so much. WTF did I do? Y do I always ruin everything? Nothing will ever b the same. Hes done wit me, its basically jus a waiting game now. Im waiting to see when he leaves me.
Legit, without him I am nothing. If he leaves me im doomed. I no exactly what will happen. I will go to some motel for a few days, then realize I cant afford it. Ill leave there and begin wandering again, jus like the old days. Ill get caught up in some bull shit, like usual, and beofer I no it, it’s a year later and im either married to some weirdo, addicted to something, homeless on the streets, or god forbid a whore or something. Legit, its my calling. My life has alwayd been doomed. My destiny is to be another statistic.
I will end up alone and I will die alone. Its how it was meant to be. I need to jus stop fighting it and let the future become the present.
That’s it, Im fuckin done, Ima go try to salvage what little I have left. Lets see how this shit works.
8 mutha fuckin days. Can I do it? Lol lets see Kelly demonstrate will power, guaranteed ill be freakin by the the end of the day.

Today is Monday, July 12th, 2010 and it is now 934AM here in Makati, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: Talking about Tasaday Tribesmen and how I hate seeing myself flooding the Blog roster with 3 entries in 1 day...

This Entry: So we left at about 2PM yesterday and got back to the city at around 3AM, not bad at all considering that even without the ramped up military presence in the mountains it is a 14 hour drive in dry season. Even with the moderate rains and super-heavy Army Checkpoints we made it in 11 hours, or should I say the bus did because we ended up taking a bus. Considering he stopped in every medium sized to large town on the way he must have been flying.

That of course is another danger to add to the list, accidents take place all the time. Speaking of which...

On Tuesday, the day before we left Jackie's new neighbour had an accident. I told Jackie very clearly, do not talk to anyone in your neighbourhood because you have no idea how people can be outside of the military. It is a rough world and when they hear your accent they will know you are from the South and may give you a lot of problems.

The national language is a man-made hybrid called, "Filipino" but almost entirely based on the old national language, Tagalog. The Tagalog are a tribe, rather small, native to Central and Southern Luzon, this island.

The most widely spoken language though is Bisaya, or to be exact, Cebuano, the language of Cebu. Yet there is an extreme bias up here against non-native speakers of Tagalog or Filipino. For example, if you get into a taxi and converse with the driver and he hears a Bisaya accent you can almost guarantee that your fare will be higher.

As much as it might cost a Bisaya, they still pay a lot less than any Foreigner. In Thailand they call it the "Farang Tax," or, "White Devil Tax." Here? "Kano Tax." "Kano" is the word for "American" and is found in all languages. Because of the close historical relationship, more to the point the recent relationship, Americans are the largest foreign demographic here. For some reason most want to settle in these gaudy Americanised enclaves where 95% of the almost entirely elderly population has local wives and lovers in their early 20s, or younger...colour me disgusted.

Assumptions about money...As in most poor nations one finds that having white skin here makes you a walking Dollar Bill. For example...My civilian job in New York City was as a union heavy construction labourer (Local 731 NYC, Excavators and Common Concrete). My wage, without the incentives etc, was 37 US per hour. It comes to about 1,700 Pesos per hours, more than a weeks wages for most workers here.

Now, when you tell this to a Filipino they get an instant hard-on. They see nothing but money bags. If you stop and explain to them that the average 1 Bedroom flat in the city costs 1,400 US per month plus utilities they cannot grasp the nuance. It is just too alien for them. I paid Jackie's electricity bill on Wednesday, before we left and it was all of 300 Pesos , about 6.50 US for a month. They just cannot understand the whole concept of "Cost of Living."

Regressing, her neighbour had an accident. The husband is a Jeepney driver. "Jeepneys" are WWII Era American Army jeeps that were abandoned after the war. The drive shaft is extended to 10 meters and they create what literally looks like a lowrider schoolbus, or the progeny of a US Postal Service jeep and a schoolbus if they ever fucked. They are a very affordable form of public transport.

His jeepney was parked in the compound where both Jackie and this lady's house is. The 5 year old son of the family, Rafael, was climbing over his father's Jeepney. Like many children here he was unattended and ended up sliding off the top roof, onto the ground. Using his hand to break the fall onto gravel he shattered his entire arm.

They rushed him to the hospital of course but in this country you must pay upfront or lay in the parking lot and suffer through it. The family like most here has no savings, but even if they did what can they do?

Naturally they went to Jackie, seeing a white man and thinking Jackie has a sugar daddy. Let's put it this way, as I proceed...In Mindanao any cultivated field runs the risk of attracting squatters where is you allow them, they will take over your land. I cannot count the number of thatched huts I have burbed down, all possesions included.

Now I will seem like Hitler to people reading this but that is how life is. By the same token, our Labourers, many oh whom have with Rizza's family for more than 80 years (generationally) have a very secure and somewhat prosperous life by local standards. 1 hand allows the other.

The point? I do sympathise with the family, but If I turn on the spigot it will never get turned off. They need to put steel pins in and told the father that they need to buy the pins and a hand drill to do the operation. Cost? 15,000 Pesos, roughly 330.00 US all told.

So, I came up with a solution. I went to the boy's hospital and spoke to the Chief Surgeon. I explained the game plan and for a a 5 Dollar Bill he was receptive.

I instructed him to buy what he needs and I paid 400 US for it. I said to go to the boy's room and tell his mum that the hospital had some reserves left in its charity fund and that they wouldn't have to pay after all. Had I not he would not be able to use his arm again, it wouldn't be able to bend upon healing.

I instructed him sternly not to allow anyone to know what I had done and when the operation was completed I would come by and hit him off a bit. He was ready and willing so it all worked out great though the family now hates me hahaha.

Jackie didn't dare tell me to fund it and she has no idea and I like it better that way.

Life here is harsh but there are ways to make it a tad bit better.

Since my thread was closed I shall post here..

Hey what's up everyone I was over in the suboxone mega thread talking about this subject and decided it deserved a thread of it's own. I'm here to talk about "the black box" or "brain tuner" A device that focuses on NeuroElectric Therapy, also referred to as NET, and has been developed and researched since at least the 1960s although the device has been used worldwide prior to the 60s. Dr Bob Beck is the one who really experimented and did much research on the subject. He focused on blood electrification in which he claims to have been able cure cancer, HIV, regrow his own hair, and in general become more healthier and in the process keep simple things like the cold and flu away.

Now as great as this sounds I will be focusing on his other developments specifically in the field of curing opiate addiction. The way it works is by using a certain number of frequencies as well as voltages and stimulating the brain to produce certain chemicals.

"Bob Beck used research and technology from the black box to develop his own device. He called it the Brain Tuner. Based around the principal of frequencies it used over 200 specific frequencies to encourage the rejuvenation, healing, and rapid re-stimulation of the neuro-transmitters."

For example in his research he found that beta-endorphins are stimulated with a pulse repetition rate of 111 hertz. I'm sure most people know but these endorphins are the ones that make us happy and are released during exercise, eating spicy foods, sexual activity, etc etc.. Opiates share the same receptors as endorphins and when they are used consistently the brain says they are getting to many endorphins and shuts down the production. This is the main reason withdrawal occurs after stopping the drug.

Here is a quote from the article about a rat study using the brain tuner.

"As an electrotherapy researcher, Bob Beck described it to me, this was originally discovered when scientists analyzed the brains of rats that had been addicted to opiates"

The rats that were addicted had been getting so much opiate that the little endorphin factories in the brain would shut down and basically say, "Look, our body’s got too much of this. Quit manufacturing it…" …

… and it would take anywhere from a week to three weeks before the brain of each rat would begin manufacturing beta-endorphins again. Whereas in the brains of the control rats that had never been addicted, you would find the normal, expected levels of beta-endorphin. And then they would take a third group of addicted rats, cut them off ‘cold turkey’ from the heroin, clip miniature electrodes to their ears, and within 20 minutes of electrical stimulation… the brain of each rat began showing that the endorphin production had started up again. So, those rats wouldn’t go through withdrawal symptoms!

"This evidence quickly led to the use of CES devices in the treatment of humans."

More of that can be read here. http://newyorkbodyscan.com/braintuner.html

Many claim to have been cured using this device, but one of the more famous cases involves the rock singer Peter Townshend. He was cured by a doctor named Meg Patterson and she was using the same type of tuner that Beck was developing. You can read about his recovery in an article printed in penthouse magazine back in 1983!

http://www.thewho.net/articles/penthouse_1983.htm

Heres a quote from the penthouse article. I think it's an excellent article and everyone should have a look.


"Townshend: I think NET is a fairly simple thing. It restimulates the brain to produce endorphins. The theory is that the brain stops making its own opiates if you take heroin. You see, drugs literally barge their way in and grab hold of the receptors [active sites on brain cells that the endorphins normally occupy]. Drugs wreak havoc where there was once peace and harmony. So with NET, you use an electrical frequency that will restimulate the problem area.

Penthouse: Could you describe the treatment, starting from the first day?

Townshend: I took a massive dose of heroin to get to California, and the Pattersons met me at the airport in a van and they hooked me up to the machine as soon as I got in. The first frequencies they gave me were low ones for heroin. I think it was kept on that setting for about eight hours.

Penthouse: Did the electrical stimulation give you a euphoric buzz?

Townshend: No. I just got this sense of a natural energy flowing into my body. It was as if all sorts of dormant feelings were being rekindled. The inner joy of recovery, and becoming independent from drugs, it produced this tremendous feeling of rejuvenation. By the second day, in fact, I knew I was on the home stretch. And on the third day, I started to look and feel human again. I started to read newspapers and to write about the way I felt. I remember writing things like, "I want to go out for a walk. I don't believe it." I could really feel my passion for life returning.

Another thing was that I'd had traces of returning sexuality. Initially, that was quite troubling for me, because I'd put down a lot of my problems in relationships to an abnormally dynamic sexual appetite -- and a confused sexual appetite. I'd talked to close friends about it and they'd said, "Oh yeah, well, you know, that's pretty much normal if you're an aggressive, high-strung individual. After all, half the people who are successful in business or acting are sex crazy." But I suppose that for about a month, maybe two months, before being treated I'd felt no sexual feelings whatsoever, so the treatment definitely had a rekindling effect.

I think I also wrote that I was still feeling somewhat bitter, or betrayed. But then on the fourth day, I woke up with this aggressive, angry attitude toward life. No, arrogant is perhaps a better word. I believed that I could take on the world. Later on, though -- on the fifth day, I believe-- I started to get depressed. Meg would then turn the machine up to a high frequency for an hour or so to stimulate the cocaine-type receptors in the brain. And if it was left on too long at this setting, I would start babbling away and everything in the room would start to go woooooooo."


Now I'm not saying this is 100% effective, but for an addict having the will to recover I think it could has much potential. From the research I did it doesn't get rid of withdrawals 100% more like 50-75% depending on the person. Here is a quote from Meg Patterson's research as she majored in treating addiction.

"Over three decades, it has become clear that the potential of NET lies in the following areas:

1. The ability to rapidly and safely detoxify from all the substances of addiction without having to resort to support or replacement psychopharmacology.

2. The degree of withdrawal relief provided by NET (between 50-75% for the majority of patients), is substantial enough to maintain the addict in treatment—NET has a reported Drop-Out Rate of only 1.6% (Patterson et al., 1984).

3. In 102 consecutive patients, treated for opioids, cocaine, tranquilizers, barbiturates, alcohol, and nicotine dependencies (including poly-substance detoxifications), 95% claimed that they were free of craving by the end of treatment, 75% that they were free of anxiety (Patterson et al., 1984).

4. The rapidity of physiological and psychological improvement. The substantial improvement in depression and anxiety assessments within the short treatment period is unique to this modality.

5. The low Relapse-Rate found with NET (80% of addicts, 78% of alcoholics drug-free up to eight years after treatment, Patterson et al., 1984). The physical well-being, emotional stability, and mental clarity imparted by NET's non-pharmacological regimen, suggests enhanced ability to benefit from integral counselling and relapse-prevention programmes."

The rest of the study could be read at the following link.

http://www.drmeg.net/net.htm



Now one may wonder if this thing is so good why isn't it mainstream? I wondered the same thing myself and there are only 2 conclusions that can be drawn. The first is it is all just a scam and it doesn't do shit and the other is it really is too good to be true and the government and BIG PHARMA just won't let it cut into their profits. I vow for the second one as there is just too much research and evidence supporting it. Check out this quote from another article.

you were my best friend, for 7 years.

a lot of love, a lot of hate- on both ends

we both tried.

I am very sad, and so are you. I cannot stand your malaise for me now, nor am I even able to look at you in the face. I was imprisoned mentally and yet you can only say "you always blame me". You say the right things unconditionally, yet your actions proved differently. Quit looking in the mirror, saying "I am fucking perfect", because my dear your flaws without extremes were endearing to me.

You were my lover, for 7 years.
A lot of passion, a lot of isolation- on both parts.

I am devastated, and so are you. I want you to hold me, but you violated my trust physically. You cut me down, cold shoulders and "matter of fact" bullshit. I was never perfect, but never deserved what I was given. I regret everyday not showing you my sadness earlier- instead my words came out like fire, and my heart locked in a cage.

I am leaving very soon, and can never be with you again. You broke bonds from ill words to some of my friends, you hurt me more than anyone... Because I allowed you to, and I am so sorry for ever permitting this into my life.

I've lost everything, literally, my home, school financial aid, my town, my heart, and mind over you... But I still do not blame you, it was both of us. My heart hurts so badly every night, and half my soul feels like it withered away.

Now I am packing, on my way, and your two-faced "i love you" "i hate you" tires me.

Good Bye my little flower, we never loved eachother the way we should have.

I need to vent here. This is in response to somebody else's blog entry that I don't want to clutter with my own comments. I just need to get this out of my system. I can relate to the significant others not appreciating time spent on a harm reduction site. I realize that people sometimes post things that are adolescent and that threads often degenerate into a pissing contest or childish name calling. She doesn't just hate Bluelight (in fact, she doesnt' know it exists - but if she did, she would start a fight. I need to change my avatar.), but she hates any time I spend on the computer that I could be spending with her and her cats. She knows i post in Slashdot (news for nerds, stuff that matters) and somehow takes this as a form of cheating on her. And then my occasional online gaming (as in dungeons and dragons online, chess, or evony a year ago) makes her jealous. She thinks it's all vile and obscene and full of perverts, and that i'm spending time with imaginary girlfriends. These girlfiends, she imagines, are planning to fly me out to New Zealand or some place and elope. What i think it boils down to is that when i'm not in the same room with her when i'm not at work, she gets jealous.

My dog will be 13 years old in December. He's an Akita and statistically they live until the age of 12. His age is showing. He has difficulty walking and if he's lying on the linoleum of the kitchen floor he needs to crawl to the carpet (for friction) in order to stand.

If I wasn't a junkie motherfucker perhaps I could make his daily life easier. I would have money to pay for medication and procedures.

He's a fuckin' trooper though. He takes struggle in stride. I have never admired or respected anyone more than this guy. He displays true love to me and, yeah, I guess he has no choice since I'm all that he knows but DAMN he deserves better. My love for drugs, my self-centeredness, my insatiable need for more has most certainly affected his quality of life.

Does he feel the love I have for him? Most definitely. Do I feel the unconditional love he has for me? No doubt. The thing is... its too late for me to take him out to experience the world beyond my junkie eyes. I've passed the time frame for taking him to doggie parks. My fucked up mentality prevents us from just sitting on the grass and watching the world.

He deserves more and I can't give it to him because I've wasted my time chasing coke and dope (or ANYTHING to get me high). I don't have the resources that normal folks have to apply preventative maintenance to make his movements easier.

I'm sorry you got stuck with me, my friend. I know you feel my love but love just isn't enough sometimes. Love doesn't heal fragile joints. Love doesn't heal hot spots on feet.

Dude, thank you for being in my life. If it wasn't for you I would be dead by now. Its not that death bothers me but you have prevented me from taking myself out because even though I'm not the greatest, I know you would be so confused without me. I've experienced some nice times because of the extension of life you have provided me.

I only wish I could break this selfishness and perhaps help your final years be easier. These drugs keep me away from my responsibility to you and I'm sorry. I deserve pain for the avoidable hardships I've caused you to endure.

Selfish. Junkie. Motherfucker. Again.

Some of you know I have a strange, deep relationship with my brother. I love him like he was my son and miss him like crazy. He has always been my solid, I have always been his. He hasn't answered an email from me in months. I'm talking like MONTHS. I know he is okay b/c his gf posts pics on facebook and he went to see my parents a month ago. I spoke with him for a minute over the phone while he was visiting them but we didn't really get the chance to talk......
The other thing is , he is in contact w/ my parents.....he a has always said I was more his mother than our mother. I'm fine with the fact that he went there and am not at all jealous of my parents but I know how he thinks of them and the fact that he is contacting them and not me is really weighing on me. If I let myself think about it I just break down. Its eating away at me. I don't understand why he won't talk to me. I have my theories, but he won't even answer me to find out!
I am so crushed about it.
I miss him

whining over.