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How has my prior knowledge and experience affected my work on this step?

06/12/10 7:53 AM

This is the last question from The Step Working Guide for Step One. This question is obviously not written for someone new but more for someone who is going through the steps again.

How very anti-climatic.

Same date and location as before, 830PM now...

To continue...

Westerners are undoubtedly wondering why someone didn't simply call the police. On Mindanao this is rarely even considered in the cities but in rural areas it is never an option. IF they even come it will usually take hours even when a garrison is near by.

The Philippines, unlike Western nations, has a nationalised police system, the "PNP*" (Philippines National Police). It operates in paramilitary fashion and police are rarely, if ever, local folk. In rural Mindanao this means they are less respected than a stray dog (at least one can eat the dog). Many are corrupt (making 180 US a month one can hardly blame them) and those that are not are generally inept.

Now, as I said in the last entry, Bisaya lack the reflex that allows one to flee when they face danger. It is not the "Headlight" dynamic, like a deer in one's headlight, because as I said the habal habal (trike) drivers were moving a few meters to and fro.

In any event, he noticed me as I knew he would. In retrospect I wonder what his drunken and befuddled mind must have thought when he saw a white face sitting on a log hahahaha.

He stumbled my way, swinging his 1 meter long blade and it my mind went into "survival" mode. Time slowed down, I heard no noise, saw only him and his blade but as I stood up I saw that he held what I now saw was a 2nd thinner blade, about half as long as the bolo (machete) in his right hand.

Now, against even a sober man and 1 blade, my money is betting on me (real superhero I am!). 2 blades though? Well that changes the odds in a terrible way.

As he came I thought quickly, a bad cut and I would probablly bleed out (nearest real hospital being 200 kilometers away), and trying to disarm a man swinging 2 blades was definitely going to get me cut, badly.

Thank G-D we had had some rain, I was bending my legs anyway in fighting mode, and scooped up a nice handful of mud quickly..as he came lumbering towards me I waited a bit, and then, WHAM, right in his eyes, perfect delivery. Hahahahahaha, he was soooooooo pissed off. He looked like he was going to cry, but then after quickly recovering he was even more enraged!

I was bouncing side to side, legs bent, watching his midrif because that will always telegraph an opponent's movements. When our bodies move, in ambulatory fashion, it is generated from the abdomen. I was barely out of reach from the longest blade but close enough to get his drunken spittle in my face as he cursed me.

As I moved side to side I was able to occasionally get in a good scoop of mud, generally on his face, as I looked for a piece of wood to beat the shit out of him, when finally a pistol shot rang out and the asshole stopped moving. Unfortunately though, it was merely a warning shot and he was not hurt. A neighbour had let off a shot but it allowed me to get immediately out of harm's way.

Walking into the compound...and this is the pisser...Rizza denigrated me, "Why didn't you do martial arts on him? I thought you were so good at it!" I looked at her for a quick second, and I said, "That Jackie Chan shit is not reality, you cannot get within reach of a man with 2 long blades," but I was just digusted with her.

As I quickly looked for something near the gate, I found a truck wiper (windshield wiper off of one of our 10 wheeled trucks, the wiper is an aluminum rod, flexible, about a meter long). Picking it up I quickly walked back out int Mangga while the family just stared at me, mouths open, and the neighbours actually cheered seeing me again (hahaha, "Kill the Kano" maybe) but on walking up the road, he was 2 compounds away by our cousin's place...the PNP were finally out of their drunken revelry, pistols drawn and coming at him on 3 sides. I was hoping they did not kill him outright so that I could whip him into a coma, maybe mark his face with his own blade...

He was drunk, full of brandy soaked testosterone but NOT retarded. He dropped the blades when the PNP fired a volley of warning shots. IF I beat him now the PNP would turn it into an extortion scheme against me, "Sir, it is the law but we do not agree with it. If you pay just a reduced fine now we can close the case"... Uh, no thanks, anyway. I will just find out which broken down grass hut he calls home and beat him senseless, then make his family homeless by burning down their hut. Thanks anyway.

Aggravated to no end I walked into the compound because now all eyes were on me, hoping to see me do what I wanted to do. Mom ran up and was shaking, I guess the shock wore off. She could not believe that I had an absolutely normal heartbeat.

I am sure that as I was bouncing around it was elevated but I was picked for my job (in the IDF) based upon my physical (and mental) profile. I have a rather constant heartbeat even under intense stress. I have also been stress innoculated to such a degree that I handle it quite well. In situations like that, I am tenacious, I want to finish the person, but not in a way that causes my judgement to be erratic.

My 1st question to Mom was where did that loser live. She said his family lives further down Mangga, nearer to the Surigao del Sur provincial line. I was happier then, knowing my time would come. Dad just stood there with 4 of my brothers in law, mute like one of those Easter Island statues. Mom joked, "Dad swore if you were hurt he was going to shoot the man," Dad having gone inside and grabbed his 45.

I hugged him seeing he was scared for me, but needled him saying, "See??? I always tell you, carry that fucken piece, don't keep it as a trophy!"

We went inside and then the phone calls started coming, "Raki is so brave, ""Raki is a hero," "Raki!!!!!!!!!!!" I was none of the above. I was a stupid fool and should have had my fucken head examined.

I then went on their PC, not feeling like walking over to my house, even though its just a few meters, I was embrassed at creating such a public spectacle...Now this is why I have told this sordid tale...Little Mayo, who was all of 5 back then, climbed into my lap as I began surfing the net. He wrapped his little arms around me and buried his head in my chest and began sobbing so heavily.

I was so suprised, but so, so, so touched. Even now I have to be careful lest I get teary eyed recalling that day. I cradled his face in my hands and asked him if he had been scared. All he could do was nod yes and cry. I held him tough, kissed the top of his head and told him I was OK, nothing was going to happen to me. He held me tight until his sobbing quieted down, maybe 10 minutes or so and I realised that I really had to think about my actions.

All my other brothers in law, the next youngest being 10 then, were pumped up, proud as everyone congratulated them on having such a heroic brother (there is no concept of "brother in law" in Bisaya Culture,to them I am "Kuya," which simply means "Elder Brother"), but little Mayo was taking it an entirely different way.

My sister in law Marian who was 8 then was proud as well but in her eyes I could never do wrong. She is so cute. The week before I left to go to the Philippines she made a new Yahoo ID to IM with the words "I love you Kuya."

Even with all this shit between Rizza and myself they are still so dear to me and that is the most fucked up part of the deal. That is the only part that makes me mad enough to smack Rizza (luckily for her that is something I would never do. Me? I had a girl spit in my face once and I simply turned and walked away).

So, upon returning, Mayo ran out and grabbed me. Marian next, then the elder boys smiling huge smiles and I went inside, Mom and Dad having been in Court for the final hearing in the case against Uncle Allan, the case that sparked our "rido" (family feud).

One of the kids called Mom up on a cellular to tell her I had come. She called the landline and we talked a bit, telling her I would only be there less than 2 days (turned into 9 but hey).

I went next door to my house, and aired it out, since it had been a couple of months since I had even spent 5 minutes there.

I then piled the kids into one of the SUVs and drove into the town proper, to pay my respects. My G-Dfather was working in the provincial capitol since he works for the Governor. My G-Dmother, the former mayor, sister of the current mayor and Col. Lademora's (I will get to him) daughter. I gave her the small gift I had brought for her (22K gold bracelet. I don't know why but SE Asians love 22K, soft like butter and that weird deep yellow colour, the colour of pure gold).

I went next to pay respects to Uncle Leo, my closest friend apart from Dad, and the rest of our huge extended family. By about 9 that night, stuffed from the obligatory dish at each home we returned to wait for Mom and Dad.

Popped in a DVD, it still amazes me when they get theater quality bootlegs before the movie is even in theathers in the US but I am well aware of the process of "how," since it is an endeavour I once considered getting into. Saw a movie, "Splice" that was OK, nothing to write about.

About 1 AM the dogs went crazy and I knew they had arrived. Spent about 30 minutes talking and then I went to my house to sleep.

Today is Tuesday, June 15th, 2010 and it is now 747PM here in Makati, Luzon, Philippines.

Recap: Spent 1 day in Makati (Manila), with Jackie. Left her in the condo, flew down to Mindanao obstensibly to pick up a supply of opiates/opioids since the methadone I had brought with me from New York City was getting low.

Landed at Butuan Airport, and took a taxi the 200 kilometers south to my "home," home being Rizza's family compound in San Francisco (San Franz), Agusan del Sur Province on Mindanao.

I was pulling up to the compound when I ended the last "Update" entry.
********************************
I have to admit that it felt so good to see the place. Even seeing the "rotunda*" (*local word for traffic circle, our road "Mangga" spins off of the rotunda) made me feel strange inside.

Pulling up to the compound I thanked the driver, grabbed my overnight bag and walked into the yard.

Like all rural compounds in Mindanao we have a pack of dogs, including my baby, "Jumbo," who is the number 2 in the pack. As always they were ecstatic to see me, baying, hair sticking up as if spooked, actually bouncing off of the ground because the alpha dog, "Chakie," a huge brute would not let any dog get on me. He has a game when I haven't been home for a while, he runs at full speed (that motherfucker can run!) and jumps onto me. He is built like a Saint Bernard, so imagine that fun I have!

This of course made my youngest brother in law Mario Jr. ("Mayo") come running. Not quite 7, he is still my pet.

REGRESS...On Easter Sunday, 2008 just before leaving for New York City to begin chemotherapy for my HCV (Hep-C) I was sitting in the "sala" (living room) with Dad (Rizza's father). We were discussing how Catholicism (his religion) is full of shit, how Easter is a pagan holiday adapted for the nascemt Church, when all of a sudden we heard our youngest "ya-ya" (female servant) screaming at the top of her lungs.

Then, as now we are involved in a bloody "rido" (family feud, and I do NOT mean the cheeky American game show). I was sure that the other side had acted against us. I stupidly ran outside without even my pistol since at the time, as we talked, I had stripped it and was reworking the trigger mechanism.

As I ran to her I saw her at a portion next to the gate where one can see clearly onto Mangga, the road running past the front of our compound. A man, perhaps my age, shirtless and apparently drunk off his ass was swinging a "bolo*" (*1 meter long machete used for cutting bamboo, small trees, etc.), and trying his very best to kill "habal habal*" drivers (*motorized tricycle made from a motorcycle dirtbike with a small c.c. engine and an aluminum shell built around it, with a small bench in front and back, the cheapest public transportation and oh so common even in rural areas).

I do not want to meander too much, especially with the character count on these Blogs, BUT, Bisaya* (*the dominant ethnicity in that part of Mindanao) have a curious personality trait that seems to be universal. They do not have a "Flee Reflex!"

The habal habal drivers were sitting there watching this shit, and as he approached 1 or another they would back over each other trying to get out of immediate danger but only a few meters!

What does our impetuous hero Rachamim do? I walk out into Mangga and several meters down the road is a fallen log on the roadside, I sat down upon the log and kicked off my "tsinelas*" (*rubber sandals, Americans call them "flip flops," these are the de rigeur footwear even in malls, EVERYONE wears them), and waited for the "tad tad*" (*literally means "chop chop") to turn his wrath on me.

I better close this entry here for the character count, and continue in the next "Update" entry.

What is my understanding of Step One?

06/11/10 10:03 AM

* There’s some shit you can’t do anything about. Roll with it.
* Consider as many variables as possible. There’s more to things than meet the eye
* Do the things you need to do, especially when you don’t want to do them.
* Don’t bullshit yourself.
* As long as I don’t get high I have a chance at a tolerable life
* If I take that first one, I will be gone for a while and chances are my life and mental health will quickly degrade.
* There is no person, place or thing that will make everything all right.
* There is a difference between ‘thought’ and ‘action’.
* At this point (9 months and 19 days clean), if I use, it will simply be ‘just because’ or because I think things will be different this time

06/12/10 7:40 AM

* Everything is temporary
* Service is important. Extremely important.
* Hostility, resentment and fear are my initial responses to the unfamiliar
* This new way of living is completely dissimilar to the old.
* Recovery is a long slow process.
* Consistency is important.
* Repeating positive actions, consistently will make those actions become habits
* Not everyone is in this for the same reasons
* It WILL get better. Sooner? Later? Who’s to say? Don’t fuckin’ bail before it does.
* Obsessive thinking causes me pain
* Self-centeredness is a motherfucker
* Just fuckin’ do it otherwise it’ll ruin my day from dwelling on neglecting responsibilities

How do I know it’s time to move on?

06/10/10 7:31 AM

Because I am stagnating and feel like I am actually regressing. If the Steps are the solution to the problem that is me than why the fuck are there so many IRRELEVANT questions in this fucking book? This writing is nonsense, man and it is delaying me from actually PRACTICING the principles in the Steps that are supposed to help me get well.

Rest assured, if I am asked to continue writing on the Steps out of this ridiculous book, it will be done with minimal effort and concern.

and the cyclops of disapproval!

ಠ

I HAD a dream... a vivid fucking dream. A scary dream that I woke up believing.

Have you ever woken up immediately planning how to handle the situation you THINK you are in because you dreamed it?


Have you ever dealt with the guilt of murdering someone who you haven't seen in years?

Have you ever held someone under the water that extra few seconds until they stop struggling

i met a girl last weekend and had plans to hang out with her tonight. so i went to the barber and got a line up there where allot of guys there that looked like drug dealers . so i ask the guy doing my line up if he knew any one hanging around the shop had any E for sale because i wanted to have it for the night . one of the guys there overheard and steped in to say that his friend was selling purple stars and that if i waited for him to get his shave hed take me over to the spot .

so he gets done and we drive to the spot he asked for the money ( i knew i shouldent have fucking gave it to him but i did ) it was a vacant building or some shit so i figured if he came out id see him if he tryed to make off with my money . i was waiting in my car looking at where he went in ,after 10 minuets i got pissed and got out of my car to go see wtf he was doing there was a big back door and he wasent there.

so i went around back to see if he was there insted of finding him there, a jacked gansta with a tattooed face shouted something to me in spainish ( in a what the fuck do you want tone ) so i asked him about the retard and told him what went down he said he dident know any one by the name. he told me that he could likely get me some E and if not coke for sure . so we get into my car and we go to the spot .. no E but he says he can get me a 20 bag of dope at another place and for the trouble he would give me a free 20 of coke

ive been wanting to try heroin for a long time so i took him up on it . i ended up taking him to the store to get smokes and drooped him off at his house after . he was pretty cool only thing i dident like was he kept taking me down these back roads in ghetto ass parts of towns ive never been to and telling me " drive fast nigga these streets are hot " and i got lost on the way home

so after the hole 3 hour ordeal i came home did 2 coke spoon sized bumps of dope showered and went to pick the girl up . we chilled had a few beers and had sex went really well but then she told me she had to be up for work at 5:30 and needed to go home . it was 1:30 i had 6 beers and 2 lines of coke i dident want to take her home i was fine to drive but i probably had around 2 or 3 beers in my system enough to get me a dwi . but i ended up taking her home any way

it was a long day but was worth it

i met a girl last weekend and had plans to hang out with her tonight. so i went to the barber and got a line up there where allot of guys there that looked like drug dealers . so i ask the guy doing my line up if he knew any one hanging around the shop had any E for sale because i wanted to have it for the night . one of the guys there overheard and steped in to say that his friend was selling purple stars and that if i waited for him to get his shave hed take me over to the spot .

so he gets done and we drive to the spot he asked for the money ( i knew i shouldent have fucking gave it to him but i did ) it was a vacant building or some shit so i figured if he came out id see him if he tryed to make off with my money . i was waiting in my car looking at where he went in ,after 10 minuets i got pissed and got out of my car to go see wtf he was doing there was a big back door and he wasent there.

so i went around back to see if he was there insted of finding him there, a jacked gansta with a tattooed face shouted something to me in spainish ( in a what the fuck do you want tone ) so i asked him about the retard and told him what went down he said he dident know any one by the name. he told me that he could likely get me some E and if not coke for sure . so we get into my car and we go to the spot .. no E but he says he can get me a 20 bag of dope at another place and for the trouble he would give me a free 20 of coke

ive been wanting to try heroin for a long time so i took him up on it . i ended up taking him to the store to get smokes and drooped him off at his house after . he was pretty cool only thing i dident like was he kept taking me down these back roads in ghetto ass parts of towns ive never been to and telling me " drive fast nigga these streets are hot " and i got lost on the way home

so after the hole 3 hour ordeal i came home did 2 coke spoon sized bumps of dope showered and went to pick the girl up . we chilled had a few beers and had sex went really well but then she told me she had to be up for work at 5:30 and needed to go home . it was 1:30 i had 6 beers and 2 lines of coke i dident want to take her home i was fine to drive but i probably had around 2 or 3 beers in my system enough to get me a dwi . but i ended up taking her home any way

it was a long day but was worth it

Hey,

So it's been a while since we've had one of these threads. Pretty well since Hoptis was able to make all the shiny new improvements to Blogs' visibility IIRC. Lately a couple of issues have been coming to mind that I think might benefit from open discussion.

Mainly, it's the trend of microblogging that has been going on lately. It seems mostly to be cervan's two line posts, and shoolameet's virtually contentless drug photo posts. Personally, I'm annoyed by the former (since she has in the past posted enough two-liners to knock nearly everyone else off the page), but I don't necessarily think that it warrants any action yet. The latter however is starting to piss me off, especially with his latest post. Perhaps I'm being over-sensitive, but it seems like he's being a bit inflammatory, and I'm not too crazy about that.

I haven't replied to his latest ('witty slogans') yet, as I'm concerned that I might be a bit too snarky. But if my sentiments are shared, I'd be more than happy to remind him to keep things civil or leave.

These are my thoughts of late. Any opinions? Any other issues?

On a personal note, I'm amazed that I've remembered the password to this account! Yay me!

-Dave

How is acceptance of my disease necessary for my continued recovery?

06/10/10 7:22 AM

Recognizing and accepting that I simply can’t get high like others is critical. Its real easy for me to say ‘Yeah, I’m just gonna grab a beer after work’ or ‘Maybe I’ll smoke some weed’. I can’t fuck around like that because my history shows that I lose control and I lose control quickly. I just can’t fucking stop once I have started.

It sucks and I’m still VERY fucking angry that I can never get high again. But this is something I need to deal with and just roll with it.

It isn’t easy and I strongly suspect that I am on my way to a nice little binge. I remember these feelings from when I first got clean.

I guess I really haven’t accepted that I cannot live and use drugs at the same time.

Responsibility sucks, man.

Still around and kicking. Just really have been MEH about posting here.

I still like this place but it doesn't hold the appeal that it once did. Maybe. I dunno. Maybe I'm just being lazy lately...?

Sitting here eating Chicken Penne and a large fruit punch. Yumm!

Found out that with an almost certainty that my son has IBS, at least we know WHAT he has after being left with more questions then answers for the past 4yrs.

My last test is on June 9th. So I guess I will find out if I have COPD by June 30th.

My breathing has been good lately, I ALWAYS cough. Who knows it might be more reconstructive plastic surgery related than lung disease thing. I might make an appointment with a collegue of my old surgen and see what he thinks....

I have put on mundo weight in 2 months, well not MUNDO but a lot for ME. I put on 11Lbs in 2 months!!!

I got the Depo Provera shot a week or two ago. Thank god no side effects that I can tell so far, so that's a good thing.

My anger has gotten better since the shot, which makes me think I might have some sort of hormon imblance..? Who knows with me....

All is well around here, things are good.

I dunno what else to say really...

One day gone, life's not the same without you.
We can all be strong.
But strength can't bring back the one's we've lost.
Holding on, moments will last always inside of our hearts
But what good are hearts when their Beatz have stopped?

My friend it hurts that you're gone.
You should still be here.
The world knows it wasn't your time.

Taken away and screaming, "Don't go, don't."
We know you're needed here with us.
It's so hard moving on.
We wake up everyday without a friend,
knowing it wasn't his time.

Passing on
We know that you're looking out for us all.
Still, so hard to believe that you're not with us.
You can't bring back the ones you've lost.
You can't bring back the ones you've lost.

You belong down here smiling wide.
Don't go.
No, don't go.

You belong down here smiling wide.
You know you're needed here with us.

Click to expand...

[heart beatz]

Have I made peace with the things I’ll have to do to stay clean?

06/08/10 8:24 AM

Not really. Lately I’ve been throwing an internal temper tantrum. I’m an angry dude and there’s a lot of shit I need to do to stay clean. Some of these things I just don’t want to fucking do.

Its suggested to be in service in the NA structure. I did that in the beginning, I was co-chairperson of the Public Information Committee for the Montgomery County Area and was making the Regional sub-committee meetings as well. I called the chairperson the other week and told her I’m bailing on service at this level. I just don’t want to be around people with significant clean time that act self-important and believe that service in the NA structure is some selfless, grand sacrifice. It isn’t. True service is doing street-level shit for that man/woman that is struggling.

I also made the decision to not have a Home Group any longer. To be honest, this was an impulsive decision made out of anger. Even though I am going to maintain a commitment to my Home Group it is going to be a very loose commitment. I’ve been taking things way too seriously and its been fucking me up.

I’ll get to a peaceful place of acceptance in time. I know for certain that when I start writing the Step Two questions, they WILL NOT be as involved. I’m just going to bang them the fuck out. Why? Because these fucking questions don’t do anything for me. Practicing honesty, open-mindedness, willingness and acceptance is more important than writing about it. These questions aren’t therapeutic and there are too many of them.

I need to progress with a cursory knowledge of ‘spiritual principles’ in order to get well.

Have I made peace with the fact that I’m an addict?

05/23/10 9:11 PM

Yes I have. At least I know what my problem is. Many do not. With this knowledge I can see that my greatest enemy is me.

immediate frustration: prior to about 2 weeks ago, i lived with my brother and step-brother. then my brother decided he was just gonna leave (lease is up aug 1) and move in with his friends for no fuckin reason at all. whatever...as long as he's happy right? thats what i thought at first. its when he took the tv from the living room that things really started to get annoying here. its his tv and he has every right to take it, but he didn't need to. they have plenty of tv's over at the place he's staying at. so since there was no longer a tv in the living room, my step-brother brought his tv out here. so now he has no tv in his room. personally i dont really care about that, and its not that i don't like my step-brother, but he NEVER fuckin sleeps and we dont exactly share the same interests in whats on tv (this dude will watch sportscenter on repeat 24 hours ag day - i love sports, and sportscenter, but once i realize i've been watching the same exact shit for like 3 hours, thats enough for me.) not only that, i like to sleep in the living room (the blinds in the bedrooms are worthless and the couch is significantly more comfortable than the air mattress in my room.) so what happens now? he's ALWAYS in the living room. he's apparently also decided he's gonna be sleeping out here now because of the tv situation. and of course he's a channel changer. he doesn't watch commercials (which is right up there on my top "annoying" list - unless you are fucking psychic, you are always going to miss part of the show you were watching before, before you decide/remember to change back. i mean, we were watching the fucking lakers and celtics in the finals tonight and he's flipping back and forth to the stanley cup (which i could give a fuck about - and he knows this.) its like a tie game with 3 mins left in the game and this guy is watching postgame interviews from the fucking hockey game. jesus christ. aside from the tv/sleeping shit, i'm really getting tired of this kid. and again, i'm really cool with him, but as i've experienced with my very best of friends, too much is inevitable...and i've hit that breaking point. and really, this isn't even his fault, its my brother's fault. things were so much more stable here when he was here...and i'm the older one -25, they are both 21 - but they are both almost finished with college, and i'm just now getting ready to go back to school again after 7 years. bottom line: its fucking annoying and its my brother's fault.

less immediate frustration: i'm an audio engineer (well, i graduated in 2005, but i still know whats up) who works pretty exclusively with a producer and a rapper (all 3 of us in different states.) the producer is completely killing our relationship, and aside from the work we do together, we all consider ourselves friends. the rapper is on his job and doing really big (well, locally anyways) shit right now, but the producer is fucking everything up. we've been working on an album (rapper+producer+engineer) for at least 2 years now and all the producer wants to do is keep "mastering" or "re-inventing" or whatever his technique and its destroying the project. at this moment, i'm pretty much done with it. the rapper is completely eye to eye with me on this too. he raps to the beats, then the producer "updates" aka COMPLETELY CHANGES them and the rapper no longer likes them. his crazy ADD/OCD/whatever shit is destroying an album that the 3 of us knew was a masterpiece (in our minds anyways) for AT LEAST the past 8 months...maybe even a year. unfortunately, i'm actually friends with dude so this makes everything oh so more difficult and i'm the most non-confrontational dude on the planet. i can't even talk to him right now and he keeps messaging me and messaging me, and trust me, its all off the wall-haven't slept for 3 days-nonsense...and i can't handle it...i can't even respond in fear of what he might do, especially to himself. i hope he gets his head straight, because he is a muthafucking genius when it comes to producing, but i just dont see that happening before i've given up all hope.

ok. done for now. that felt good to get out (and that and even the half of it - trust me.)

now thats what i call a blog/journal!

Today is Tuesday, June 8th, 2010 and it is now 148AM here in San Franz, Mindanao, Philippines.

This is the second, of 3 parts relating to"Myth #II," in a series, "Myths About Israel," in response to the many PMs I get from people concerned with both Israel and Jews in general. This "myth" of course, is "Israel/Jews Ethnically Cleansed Palestine to Create Israel," in not so many words...

So, the Arabs FIRST came to the lands in question under Khalifa 'Umar, known to Westerners as the Caliph Omar. Omar was the 3rd Caliph, a "Caliph" meaning "Supreme Leader" in the religio-political sense since he both led his empire and the nascent faith of Islam.

Omar arrived in Jerusalem, the capital of the Jewish State, Judea, then occupied by the so called "Byzantines," who were the inheritors of the Roman Empire. The Romans, having finally negated Jewish sovereignity in the middle of the 4th Century CE/AD, remained and administered the lands as part of a far flung empire.

Coincidentaly, since this entirely segues into the greater point, this is how the word "Palestine," and "Palestinian" first entered the common lexicon. The words are Koine Greek and simply mean,"Land of the Phillistines" and "Phillistine."

If one recalls from the previous entry in this series, the first part of "Myth II," the "Phillistines" were the Proto-Greek People from the Aegean Sea, the island of Crete and its dependencies. They were not even Semitic, much les Arab!

The words first entered known usage under Herodotus, often (incorrectly) labeled the "Father of Histiography," or the "First Historian." While Herodotus is valuable on several levels, primarily for its enlightenment (to the modern reader) about Classical Greek views, beliefs and culturisms, as well as the Egypt of his era, the bulk of his additional views and notes are not considered worthy of anything other than consideration as an ancient curiosity.

Critics correctly point out that while Herodotus DID mention the Phillistines ("Palestinians"), and di NOT mention one iota about Jews, Judaisim of Jewish Culture and did so while having at least visited Egypt, they omit the fact that he also insisted Armenia was inhabited by humans whose arms grew straight out of their skull, grew gold on trees and had a single eye. The point? Other than those things conclusively proven to have been witnessed by Herodotus, hiw "word" is worthless.

He uses the ancient Greek form, and so the word entered Greek, and by relation, Classical Roman society. When finally applied in the occicial sense, as "Syria-Paelestina" [sic], they used the contemprary form, which happened to be Koine Greek.


When the Emperor Hadrian, of Britain's "Hadrian Wall" fame finally conquered Judea after more than 400 years of tug of war with Jewish nationalists he destroed their political and religious capital, Jerusalem, and after rebuilding it in Classical Roman form, renamed it Aelia Capitolina. He forbade any Jew from entering it, a ban that last almost 3 generations. Most importantly, he renamed all of Judea, enter "Palestine" stage left.

Ironically, at this point not a single Arab lived in the land and would not come near it for another 300 years!

Regressing to the "Myth," at the point when Arabs first enter the picture, in the 7th Century CE/AD, the lands as I previously noted, were under Byzantine occupation. In some places, like Gaza, the population was entirely Jewish except for the Byzantine garrison in what is now Gaza City,. When the Arabs came, and made war, Gazan Jews stood side to side with Byzantine soldiers and attempted to fight off this horde of violent invaders.

Winning by sheer numbers, they captured all of Judea and Samaria, which today are collectively called the "West Bank," Gaza, Israel and suprisingly to many Westerners, the land of Jordan and parts of what are now Syria and Lebanon.

Islam was a new religion and still very much Arab-centric, a trait that would not change until the Ummayad Caliphate ensconced itself in what is now Modern Syria. This resulted in precious little intermarriage or even conversion of the now indigenous Jewish inhabitants of the region.

Islam allows for fairer treatment of fellow monotheists than of so called "Infidels," in the literal sense of that word (it does not mean "non-Muslim" but rather "non-monotheist"). This allowance is known, in English, as "Dhimmitude."

Basically, Dhimmitude allows monotheists, so called "People of the Book" (Ahl al Khitab) to practice their own faith and administer their own affairs with certain limits. They get this "right" by virtue of an immesely expensive "Tax," in what amounted to annual extortion. Lest one think it a relatively fair deal, they were not allowed to ride a horse or camel if any Muslim was walking, not allowed to carry weapons in societies that equate the practice with manhood, inter-marry, serve in the military, testify in court, bring suit or criminal complaint against any Muslim, build any edifice taller than the lowest Muslim owned dwelling, etc.,etc., so on and so forth).

Besides illustrating Arab-centricty, and later Islam-centricity, it also illustrates the fallacy now propagated by a fair number of "Palestinians" and their supporters that "Palestinians" are simply indigenous Jews who converted to Islam and/or Christianity.

Undeniably some did, genomic legwork shows us that 7% of all "Palestinians" are directly descended from Jews. 93% are not. They represent a tiny number in terms of demographics.

Then, as the Umayyads eroded the huge cultural barriers separating Jews and Arabs, the European Crusaders stumbled onto the scene, establishing several city/states, most notably for this discussion, the "Kingdom of Jerusalem."

Sovereignity oscillated between European Christians and Arab Muslims, neither leaving a lasting imprint upon the idgenous People, i.e. the Jews. Indeed, when the Crusader Era finally DID end it did so under a Kurd (Salah al Din, known to Westerners as "Saladdin"), albeit a Muslim.

It was not until yet another war mongering invader conquered the lands under discussion that the character of the region began to change; The Osmani, or as Westerners are prone to labeling them, the "Ottoman Turks" were a Central Asian Steppe People, a nomadic "horse" culture. Capitalising upon the gains of the Seljuki (Seljuk Turks) who had made great inroads into the Levant as mercanaries for the newly powerful Arabs, the Ottomans set their sights on the heart of the Byzantine Empire.

Abosrbing most Byzantine holdings, these included the lands in question. The fact that they brought relative stability to lands they conquered (relative to past empires) Arabs began slowly moving across what would lader become national borders. Thus began the Arabisation of "Palestine."

How Arabs were NOT "Etnically Cleased" will be dealt with in the 3rd portion of this 2nd "Myth."

Ok, I am stupid and didn't file my taxes yet, no lectures please. I do plan on filing just been having uber high bills and could afford to file until June 18th.

I have been wondering if I am out of luck for the June 10th HST rebate now....?

They should send it once I filed right? Its a due rebate, so they should.....

Does this new HST rebate replace the July GST or does it come into effect in 2011 when we will recieve nothing.

Bah the stupid things that i think while waiting for 1230.

I CAN'T STAND WHERE I LIVE!!
I LOATHE THIS SUBDIVISION!!

Did I mention I despise where I live????

Now don't get me wrong...I spent years and years waiting and wanting to build a brand spanking ( WTF is with that phrase- I hated spanking! And why are they "new"?) home like I grew up in. When I found out I could buy a home with NO MONEY DOWN, I thought it was a joke. After accepting it was true and given my loan approval amount, I went house hunting.That in itself is a whole other blog topic....
I wanted a house right that very minute! I couldn't wait to tell the ungrateful bitch of a landlord to fuck off and find some other sucker to fix her property and lovingly care for it like we did for nothing....
Anyway, I found a house online in a super nice neighborhood. For the asking price, we thought something must be seriously wrong with it.
Walking in, I could see why the price was low as I looked at the gold shag carpet that was installed in 1964.... no shittin'. Two layers of carpet in the orange kitchen..... furry, carpet in the bedrooms.... yes, I said fur. Neon yellow, blue and pink in 3 of the bedrooms, burnt yellow fur in the master bedroom and something else in another bedroom. But it had FIVE bedrooms!!! Two full baths!!! What the fuck?
Who cares if the colors and smoke smell was hideous? I smoked back then. Long story short, bought it, repaired it, carpeted, painted and landscaped it. We loved that house!
The school system??? Ugh!! Yet another blog topic.
I started looking into building new.. just day dreaming really, and then realized I could build new for pretty cheap!
I had a sum of $$ coming soon, all I needed was $6000 down payment for the builders to start building. That's it!
I listed my house for sale myself and sold it to the third person who saw it. Nearly 6 yrs ago, it was a seller's market. Hey! Another blog topic! Selling your old house before your new one is built! Can you say NIGHTMARE??
Anyway, it gets finished , I move in... I'm in heaven, right? WRONG. It was short lived. There was small writing in the deed about a Neighborhood Association. I was assured they're really no big deal.... It's just to keep cars on blocks out of driveways and for paiting your house with purple polka dots.
Then the board meetings started, then the dues statement started coming....$100 a yr., still not bad.
Then the cutesie newsletter started coming. NOT cute.
And then came the BITCHES. we are the 10th house out of 54 built. It's always fucking women who are responsible for association nightmares I've heard about.
Most men just don't give a shit about flowers, block parties and garage sales, right? Then the gossiping started.... the stupid-ass cliques like in grade school..."Come celebrate our deck built" parties...... Barf! Fuck off! We're all adults now!
I just want to live in my fucking house I spent years wanting. The fake ass neighbors next to me became besties with their other neighbor.... the bitch is the association treasurer, and best friends with the architectural dipshits and sucks on the toes of the head honcho of it all. They all loooooovvvvvvve cooking out together.....and have their little fires in the summer... mowing on the same day, getting the same trees, bushes, decorations, pools, patio furniture , garden boxes,, sprinklers, dog breed..... yup! The same fucking dog..and NOW matching campers.... Oh Lord.... hold my hair back for me.
I'm gonna..... I'm gonna..... I'm gon...
Ehheeeehhhhhccccckkkkk!
Vomit, puke, heave, hurl, retch, eject, project, urp up, throw up, spit up, spit out, upchuck, emit, expel, gag, heave, and regurgitate what I ate last..... and that was corn-on-the-cob (why does come out looking the same way as when it went in??? I SWEAR I chewed my corn up...at least bit it in half, didn't I? And why do I always lookat my poo antyway?
What am I expecting to find anyway....a rare gem or something?), bar-b-qued ribs that marinated all day in a delicious blend of just the right combination of mellow and bold spices and a splash of white vinegar, cooked low with the lid on tight for about 40 minutes (no peeking!), then grilled slowly, hawaiian
style shrimp skewered (what kind of word is that) ) with sticks that were soaked in water, so as not to cause a three alarm fire, cuz the asshole fuckfaces in this neighborhood would really be gossiping about that for so long, that one day, while standing in their little circle at the end of their driveways, arms crossed, animated and laughing, one of their jaws will just split their face all the way 'round to the back from flappin' their jaws so much with all their talking, talking, talking....ooh... and my famous potato salad with just a touch of smoked paprika, although I really wished I had time to hardboil and slice a couple of eggs to place on the top....it really makes for a nice presentation when you then sprinkle that awesome colored paprika over all.... ever so gently with a ranch and bacon pasta salad, and washed down with ice water.
What? I was thirsty.

Well, yesterday, I got sick and tired and tired and sick of these mother fuckin' bitches and their brown-nosing husbands (who, btw, all share their toys... lawn mowers, snow blowers, power washers, sledge hammers, chain saws.....wives) of the idiotic teenage bullshit, headgame playing, attention wanting, keeping up with the Jones', spying, scrutinizing, dumb-ass gabby, dippin'- in- my-business, prying, beady little eyes that are always staring at me and my life. So when I was sitting in MY garage, taking a break from the back breaking, tedious hard work on my own unique, flower garden designed by ME, not from some picture I just saw in the latest Better Homes and Gardens magazine while in the waiting room of my OBGYN where I'm going to spread my legs and stick my heels in some sheep-skin covered stirrups while he talks me through my yearly exam that is now actually 1 2/3 years since I was told I should go......
Who starts talking to the buttwad that's at the very top of my "I- want- to-rip- out- your- testicals- quickly-for- my- sake-but-in- slow- motion- for -your sake big, fresh, fly infested pile of dog shit list??
"Dog lady's" husband in the flesh! I can't stand that bitch the most. She ecalls the cops on people who blow off fire works cuz her four Golden's are pussies. Too fucking bad. Take the stick out your ass and enjoy this one life you were given. Her husband and Buttwad seem to be best buds now. Hmmmmmm. When did that happen? They must have conversed with one another the other day when my neighbor, who will be known as Buttwad from here on in, was in shock when his family returned from wherever their little family went on vacation. See, Buttwad one-upped me last year when I planted a flower garden between my house and his against the fence WE paid for that Buttwad sucks every free ounce of benefits he can from. Along the ONE panel he paid for to join our fence to his house, he and wifey planted within one inch of our side for probably the whole time we were on vacation last year, and continued the theme to the front of their house. Buttwad then planted a young, floweirng tree of some sort that is a whole 2 inches from the actual lot line, where OUR fence distinguishes our lots. Well two can play that fucking game, Buttwad!
Not only was he in shock over my rock garden, but I planted bushes two inches from the lot line.
Take THAT Buttwad!!
I can't wait to move!!!
And if one more nosey ass person in this subdivision tries to peek in my back yard ONE MORE TIME, I'm gonna drop my bikini top.
Oh sure, the men will love it...but they have to live with the bitches tha made this subdivision suck. At least they'll think twice before spying on me again.

Today is Monday, June 7th, 2010 and it is now 5AM here in San Franz, Mindanao, Philippines.

Recap: After spending a week with Jackie at a high priced beach resort on Cebu Island, trying to make sense of all her lies, we departed for Manila aboard another ferry...

On May 30th, at 10 AM we left Cebu on a Trans Asia ferry, my favourite ferry line, though in reality there isn't that much difference from line to line. Booked a private cabin once again, as I still wasn't up to all the staring.

The 1st day at sea, stopping in Bacolod on Negros Island, a medium sized island in the Visayan Chain (Central Philippines), for 3 hours and then out to sea again. This time of year is Monsoon. Some in the US, and parts of Australia live in semi-tropical locales. They are familiar with a regular daily rainfall for 2 hours or less, the same time each day. It even rains quite hard in some of those places. Actual Monsoon however is anothing altogether, imagine a solid sheet of water for an hour and then tropical storm conditions for 3 or 4 hours or more each day. It is amazing that these ships sail at all at this time of year.

As it is, about every 3 years the Philippines has a terrible ferry accident where multitudes die. Indeed, as I post this the Philippine Navy has handed over body recovery duties to the Philippine Coast Guard (despite my involvement with the country's military I honestly didn't even know they had a fucken Coast Guard) for a ferry called the "Princess." The boat belonged to a very troubled ferry line called Sulpicio Lines, one I USED TO take all the time despite its shitty safety record.

About 1.5 years ago it left Manilla during a Code 1 Typhoon. They allow sailing up until Code 3. After the boar cleared Corregidor Island in Manila Bay and turned south towards Cavite the typhoon strengthened and rang up to a 3.5. Almost at Cavite the ferry turned over and of the roughly 1300 people aboard, 14 survived, including 7 who were doggy paddling for 3 days. Niiiiice.

The Coast Guard is trying to speed up the recovery of the hundreds of skeletons shown to still be inside the hull (I am glad we Jews don't fuck with crabs and lobster).

Those that have been reading me for a while will remember even before that incident I had been nagging Rizza, who can't swim (like most Bisaya for some stupid reason, despite being tropical islanders), to buy a decent life preserver and a can of pepper spray so noone grabbed her life vest in case of emergency.

At least Rizza didn't get scared, but Jackie? If the ship bucks she is nervous as hell. Anyway...

So it's Monsoon, the ship, if you go out on deck, jumps a good meter if its into the wind and that's quite a jump, 3 feet? I am suprised, as I started to say, that they don't lock the doors and keep people inside but that's the way it is here. We kept the cabin door ajar all the time in case of a real problem.

We didn't talk much, I was no longer in the mood. It occurred to me that no matter what happened after this, I was going to have to make a run down to Mindanao, to San Franz. I am opiate/opioid addicted and when leaving the US brought 25 bottles of liquid methadone, 200 mgs each. I had 9 left by the time we left Cebu. In Rizza and my home I had roughly 3.5 kg of morphine (in 10, 20 and 30 mg water soluble Instant Release tablets. 3.1 boxes of the 30 mg tablets equals 1 kg). I also had a great assortment of fentanyl Durogesic (50 and 25 microgram patches). Durogesic is the Jannsen export version with impregnated mylar, no gel like you see in Duragesic, the patches they have in the US. I also have a large quantity of oxycodone (i.e."Oxycontin") Instant Release capsules from Mundipharma.

My prescribing physician, in San Franz died while I was in the US, but at least I was wise enough to stockpile each time I made a trip to a city where morphine was available (5 on all of Mindanao).

I am sure I can find a few in Manila no problem but have enough on my mind and having gone through Cold Turkey Withdrawal 2 times in this country already (1 with methadone, 1 with morphine and the latter was so much worse), I didn't want to worry about a 3rd time.

So, as we sailed around Mindoro, a medium island near Luzon, through the storms and wind, I decided that I would head south to Mindanao after I made sure Jackie was OK... hey, it's not like I can just throw her in the street even if she is a fucken liar.

Nearing Luzon I figured out my game plan, and as we docked on the afternoon of May 31st, I quickly grabbed our stuff, got a cab and without worrying about price had him drive us to Rada Street in Makati, where I sublet the condo.

I felt nothing as I saw Jackie's suprise at seeing the luxury building...oh by the way...As I have noted the Philippines had its elections on May 10th, the new president is Benigno "Nonoy" Aquino III, son of the late Corazon Conjuangco Aquino who saw the country's transition from dictatorship under Marcos to full on democracy, or at least that's the story...and the 50 year old bachelor has decided NOT to live in the Presidential Palace and instead RENT A CONDO. Word is, according to my fellow Hebes in Makati, that it will be my building, the Rada, but we will see.

As it is the building houses so many diplomats that it can't be much worse security wise but I do wonder If I would pass the security check that would preceed his moving in. I am a non-citizen with temporary status, a Middle Easterner (though a Jew) and a convicted drug felon...hmmm...and involved in Mindanowan paramilitaries....

So, I took her upstairs. Unfortunately it is a studio, nothing glamarous and small for 2 people on less than intimate terms. That first night I took her out to a Korean BBQ joint, of course her first time though the malls in Mindanao all have these little kiosks with Korean platters that they cook in front of you, like a pseudo Korean BBQ sans the Kimchee. One thing I always liked about Jackie is that she loves vegetables, I know Im a bit weird haha.

When we both went back she began trying to talk me out of my funk, but to no avail. It was only 730 PM and I decided to go to the mall.

Makati has 4 malls. One of the great things about the town is that all 4 are in tiny area, and better yet, my building has a private pedestrian bridge to the complex where all 4 sit.

Jackie of course wanted to come, and now I couldn't help but laugh as she was overcome with shock, having private concierges opening doors, calling her "ma'am," and then walking through a private pedestrian bridge to luxury malls.

There is a food supermarket called "Swiss Market" which specialises in food expats have to have. For example, in the Philippines there is only white vinegar. The leading domestic brand, "Datu Puti," is only 35% pure, the rest being water. If you want pure cider or even balsamic vinegars you have to go to a place like Swiss Market. Ditto on Catsup (Ketchup). For some semi-retarded reason Filipinos only eat BANANA Catsup. They make fucken catsup from bananas and red food colouring. They don't have that many tomatoes, but still, why the fuck use bananas? It tastes worse than it sounds, I assure you.

Sorry "Crystal," I call it as I see it.

Anyway, got enough food, had Jackie get what she wants which was just about nothing as she is trying to impress me...

And when we got back upstairs I explained that I had to take care of some shit on Mindanao. She knows I take methadone, and before that tablets but never understood the underlying reason.

She knows I take TB meds (Isoniazid and Vitamin B12), as her own father took them as well. I write off any sedation as a side effect of the TB meds, and she says her dad used to get the same "effect" so go figure.

I told her I had to pick up more meds. She of course begged to go with me. I lied (see? even I can be an asshole) and said I was going to Davao City, and only to Davao, to try and alleviate her insecurities and fears over me meeting up with Rizza...or even Rizza's family which also makes her insanely jealous). I promised her I would pick up the meds and head back up immediately but that I couldn't take her because of the cost. She couldn't really argue it then, as she is trying to show me she won't over-burden me, etc.

I left at 4 AM and bought a ticket on Cebu-Pacific at the domestic airport, also in Makati, for the flight to Butuan at 930 AM. Finally took off after 11 AM (good old Philippine's Time!) and landed just after 1 PM.

I hadn't called ahead and took a taxi for the almost 200 KM ride south to San Franz.

As we neared the "rotunda" (traffic circle) on which our road spurs off of, I began to get nervous, after all, I was dropping in alone and unannounced. Surely it would be stressfull for the family...but I will get to that in my next entry.

(Edited for spelling)

i can get lovely crosses if any1 wants, ie done the sonics and wreckin these fellas are much stronger

I skipped church this morning. I was too hung over probably but I didn't even test it. I woke up at 6am, packed a bowl, lit it up and downed a little xanax and slept til...well, now.

Last night I ended up "finding" 10 mg of hydrocodone to top my tiny bit of oxy (5 mg) off with. It really did not give me a buzz whatsoever but I could certainly feel the anti-depressive properties. So I went four days tapering down, got to one night of zero opiates and then fucked with 15mg of assorted pain pills yesterday. What does this say about my resolve? All I really know is that I didn't wake up high and I really don't feel very well today.

I'm doing the sobriety thing slowly. I don't know if I'll ever be purely free from mind/mood-altering substances. I really hope I can but now I find myself bargaining with my girlfriend to let me smoke weed so we can get married. So far there's been no budge. She won't marry me if I'm still a stoner/junkie.

I can't blame her, not on a morning like today. I am so damn depressed today. There's no euphoria to be had out there is there? I mean, I know i'm in a rebounding depression swing here from chronic opioid abuse, but why is everything so fucking boring all the time? I don't feel like doing anything b/c my body isn't tingling and numb. I'm not wrapped in that "Mommy's warm and cool blanket" to enjoy myself while moving through the blankness that is "normal life."

Seriously all I've been thinking about all morning is how to get about $40 today and go score 80mg. I could blow it all today and just be SO HAPPY.

I won't though. I'm too much of a pussy. And I'm truly broke. I wouldn't steal anything or sell something valuable that I own b/c...well...it's too much work for one. Most pawn shops aren't open normal hours around here on Sundays. I've seriously already gone through this thought progression.

Then there'd be actually finding somebody who has something good for sale at an unridiculous price. I usually find myself in the almighty TRAILER PARK to find narcotic pain pills. I haven't cut ties with these people yet, but it's been a good week since I made a purchase and already I can feel a distaince. A dealer called me during my detox and offered to front me an 80 til payday and I actually refuse.

So, basically what I'm saying is I'm confused as fuck and lonely and super-bored. My anxiety isn't bad b/c of the 6am xanax party. I really think I should go see a doctor in the next few days and see if we can resolve some of these issues.