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I have a lot of goodness in my life despite several catastrophes that have transpired.

I am doing well in my classes, and have developed a circle of people that I look forward to seeing on campus. I can't really call them friends, but classmates and mutual members of student organizations. The president of SSDP put in a good word for me in Student Government, in which I may be on the executive board next semester. This guy, the president is so fucking awesome... Not only did he get me first dibs on the MAPS scholarship, he booked our hotel and then Student Government... Its so unreal to me that a person who barely knows me beyond my drug knowledge and my major ---would stick his next out for me.

The kindness of others surprises me that I would deserve any of such.

However, if I were him- I would do the same for others as well.

Really, the only thing at this time that is killing me is the money factor. I really dont want a job, but because of recent events I must attain one. I am extremely scared of this (past events with my last job), and hope I can get one on campus.

Outside of this, I got a Monroe piercing and it has healed perfectly. Tomorrow MGS and I will be hiking them there mountains with a bit of a sparkle and churn so to speak. 2C-C and 5-MeO-DMT. I've been wearing a vial of 5-MeO-DMT as to get my body's vibrations aligned with that of the substance.

This will be the first time I've tripped in 2 years. CRAZY I KNOW. I had said something to this effect in the PD "it was a strange dynamic of always having a beautiful time, but it wasn't her it was me."

I guess for a long time I tried to move completely away from drugs and psychedelics. Mainly because of MGS's opiate withdrawal and drug addictions. I held ill feelings towards substances for a time, because they were the mechanism in which my life became unstable.

Now I have learned, that I cannot conceal and stow away part of who I am and that one way or another "it" (psychoactives) will appear in my life. Like when my boss saw my history of Bluelight on the work computer and went crazy over me and telling me I do too many drugs --- yadda yadda. When in fact I hadn't touched a thing in years. This is when I realized-- "WHY would I even care to listen or justify myself to a person who carries such prejudgments?" Like wearing a mask constantly, trying to separate myself --- from myself.

Anyhoot, so here I am being myself. Advocacy, doin my thing of excellence.

All is good.

The truest amazement that I have experienced are these moments.

Moments stringing together, without tampering or purposeful placement by my hands.

lined up, in perfect form to create the present time that I participate.

Eternally in motion, internally a supposed time of dance.

Seeking to relieve this mourning.

If only this clocks gears would tick with certainty.

A confused state of unknowing. I have failed to be kind to myself nor those that I love dearest.

The dealer of this deck, is a sabotage. Espionage to the altered self. A blockage to the truest self, higher self, infinite self.

Is there even a self? I blind to see mirrored images, but what, I am that distorted being staring back?

I used to believe external factors were the joker. But with open eyes, I am the determining factor. The singular detriment to the fortune I seek.

Though told, a beautiful soul, being and whole. Hardly am I able to muster a smile and thank you.

Thinking to myself, "you don't even know one shred of how horrible of a human I am and have become".

Equivocally, undoubtedly I do not know who I am? Who am I? What am I?

I feel so unworthy of the gifts I have been graced with. Like a fallen angel who betrayed the will of God.

To live a life that which I must scorn? Am I even alive anymore?

These moments pass and I am enthralled, elaided. Yet, consciously I punish myself by actions of human disregard.

Am I broken? What is my purpose?

These questions I understand are to evaluate my importance. Though knowing I determine this.

I lock myself away, often, scared and petrified of shaming myself and others. I face this daily, never have I experienced such a level of self awareness.

Scared shitless.

I revisit my childhood now, and can account for where these feels arise. As small child, crying with no urgency or comfort by my parents. How do you heal a damaged child? Am I even capable?

I am in deep pain. Endless pain.

Am I willing to give recovery my best effort? In what ways?

04/21/10 3:01 PM

Absolutely. I feel that I have been thus far.

• I’ve done a 90 and 90

• I go to meetings even when I don’t want to

• I talk to people that I have already pre-judged

• I call my sponsor

• I ALWAYS keep my phone on no matter what time of day it is

• I’ve recently been hitting meetings in another area

• I became the co-chairperson of the Public Information committee for my area EARLY in recovery

• I speak at meetings when asked even though it intimidates me

• I give people rides to meetings whether I want to or not

• I’m implementing principles in my life

K is sick with a fever and we still haven't gotten it on! I went out tonight w/B, and he is not as cool or smart or interesting.
But I made a new girlfriend and my job interview went well.
Why do I like K so much... sigh...

Am I willing to go to meetings regularly?

04/20/10 12:32 AM

Yes. I have already done 90 meetings in 90 days (a meeting a day for 90 days) and I continue to make a minimum of 5 meetings a week.

I have also started going to meetings in another area due to the town I’ve been hitting them in, well... its gettin’ stale. Time to broaden my base.

That feeling of when you've had a penny or a nickle in your mouth. How do you translate that metallic taste into a feeling. One that i feel when on the subway. Its just not right, its just not real.

I wish it weren't.

Well this is it, down to the itty bitty.

Look its easy to see. Everything exterior on me is to compensate the inconsistencies in my head

Today is Wednesday, April 21st, 2010 and it is now 953 PM here in Brooklyn, New York City.

To recap: Jackie was firmly decided to give up both her daughters, ages 5 and 2.5, to make her life with me. I felt guilty, especially since I felt a bit excited over the possibilities her decison offered us...specifically the possibility of permanently relocating to Cambodia. In the end I re-assired Jackie that I will love and support her no matter her choice in this or any other matter...and now the conclusion...


Rachamim: "Jackie, what will your family be thinking?"

Jackie: "They will hate me I am sure, probablly forever."

R: "Baby, then why do this?"

J: "Because it is best for the girls, for me and for us."

With her unusually firm resolve I resigned myself to the situation (it did not take much resignation on my part) and we moved past it.

I felt strange though as we spoke later on the phone.

Rachamim: "What are you doing?"

Jackie: "Leila (pseudonym I will use for her youngest daughter, 2.5) is biting me!"

R: "Why???"

J: "Because she is hungry!"

R: "So give her the breast!"

J: "That is why she is biting me, because I will not let her have my breast!"

*With that exchange once again I felt the same terrible guilt over her decison. Sure, Jackie decided it but she decided it because of her life with me! If I disappeared from her life, perhaps she and the girls would have a good life...

Jackie says what many lovers do, she will kill herself if I ever disappear, but that is just so many words. It is probablly one of the most common protestations passionate lovers will make.

What if I DID disappear though? Jackie knows all about my life. Even if she didn't know about my life in San Franz (my town in Mindanao), she could simply get my record pulled at 4th Infantry Division HQ.

I met her after all through my involvement in a paramilitary. CAFGU-SS is one of a few licit pro-government paramilitaries directly attached to the AFP, the Philippine Military. Since San Franz is in Region 13, Caraga, it falls under the 4th Infantry Division.

The 4th ID happens to be HQd in the base where Jackie lives. Her familes almost 4 decade involvement with the AFP allows a lot of familial connections. Any way it is measured, there is no way I could actually just "disappear."

So, when I return home, I will pick Jackie up. She will leave a note for the girls, to be read upon maturity, and 1 note to her parents/ She fully expects to never see any of them again...and yet she is happy!

I always believed love was an ideal never achieved. I had always settled for less but Jackie has shown me, and continues to show me the word's truest meaning.

She has never flown in a plane, but is prepared to go abroad with me to Cambodia, after I promised her we would return the same day if she didn't like it...So, after I arrange my business concerns she and I will head to the mainland.

Am I willing to follow my sponsor’s direction?

04/20/10 12:29 AM

Yes. I have been following his direction and I trust the guy.

it's still so fucking fresh. it's been years and it is still as fresh as it was 2 months after. the shock wave didnt hit me until then. i kept it hard and away, locking my fingers tight to the soft spot it aimed for until i let my guard down for one second. then i was overwhelmed with the fact that he was gone. his smell was gone. his house was gone. all that remained were tangible objects i clenched in my hands until they went numb.

what triggered today was seeing those planes by the side of the road half way sticking out of a huge pile of forgotten disposables. immediate rage filled me and i slammed the door to my car as hard as i could. i threw my work things down one by one: my dr pepper, my cigarettes, my ipod, my pinch hitter, and two neon green lighters i had just purchased. they all hit the ground with such velocity it sent them flying in different directions and the dr pepper exploded on the right pant leg of my jeans.

i picked up my dads first plane. the first one he ever made and was so proud of. i remembered him showing it to me with his gleaming face and shaking hands. hands that had cuts all over them from the work and time he put into his project. i remembered him driving it outside in the parking lot to get use to the controls so he wouldnt crash it on his first go. the other plane wasnt as important to him but he ranted over how the symbols came out so perfectly.

i collected my things along with the planes and awkwardly carried them inside past my mother who was taking pictures of her salt water aquarium. i didnt reply to her askings of my day, i just retreated into my room with my arms full of memories and daily things. i was angry with her and with frank for doing that without asking me. i hadnt known they werent at my sisters house, that they were here in the shed and in their way.

i asked for the wings, they said they werent here. they asked what was wrong and i said with my back turning, "these are my father's planes."

i know they didnt mean to do anything disrespectful to my father or dishonor his creations in any way. he has more planes at my grandparents house, the biggest at most decorated ones. they hadnt known this one in particular that i was so upset over was his first plane. but i was so angry. so angry i didnt know what to do with myself and i feel bad for not coming across in a more composed manner. i wasnt yelling or screaming, the exact opposite actually, but i feel bad for thinking bad things towards them for it and allowing them to believe they had done something terribly wrong.

i apologized, they left to get my mother's prescription, and here i am now. my eyes are puffy and it's taking a great deal to keep myself from crying all over again. i have his planes in my room and before i came here i stared at them. i saw all the wires and screws and glue and all the things my father touched and placed in a certain area for a certain reason. i laid my head against the slender frame and cried. i cried hard.

I went out to lunch with my friend Brien to a decent Mexican restaurant, but unfortunately (for him) his car broke down in my driveway. As I drove him to work later, we nondiscreetly smoked up in the car through downtown.
Me: Is this common here?
Him: Oh yeah.... This is Asheville.
Good times, good times.

In love life news, K never calls me back until right before he goes to bed, which is.... gay! He's going out of town on Thurs-Sunday, so I only have a couple days to date rape him. Argh.

The YWCA also called and scheduled a job interview for 130 tomorrow! YESSSSS!! (The YMCA here drug tests 8)) This day rules!

AND I talked to the coolest dude ever at 420 while I was at the most beautiful park in town!
Damn, life is good.

In what ways am I practicing open-mindedness?

04/20/10 12:24 AM

I really don’t know how to answer this. I have always been an open-minded person. I accept most people’s perspectives whether I agree or not. I have been trying to be forgiving to people who have wronged me and who I generally don’t care for (this is hard by the way).

I don’t turn my back on people when things get hard or because it isn’t convenient.

I dunno... writing on open-mindedness is difficult. Watch my actions and YOU tell ME.

Holy shit. It was a long time coming but finally the planets aligned and some stuff called "ONE LIFE" and I crossed paths. Definately some of the best. Very full quantity-wize and the quality is a 8-8.5. That number could be off due to not really having it for 3-4 years. Thank you Philadelphia and Oddball.

Oddball has perminently risen from frieeeend to a Buddy

What have I heard in recovery that I have trouble believing?
Have I asked my sponsor, or the person I heard say it, to explain it to me?

04/16/10 3:07 PM

Besides the random bullshit coming from individual people’s mouths I’m pretty much open-minded to NA concepts. As noted in one of the previous questions, I truly don’t believe that complete surrender is necessary.

I’ll think on this more and see if I can come up with anything else.

04/19 10 9:17 PM

‘Just for today I will be unafraid, my thoughts will be on my new associations, people who are not using and who have found a new way of life. So long as I follow that way, I have nothing to fear.’

I’m not too fond of the part that is in bold. It seems close-minded and exclusionary. My thoughts will not be restricted to people who have found recovery through NA. I give a fuck about most people, whether they are using, are clean, never had a drug problem, it just doesn’t matter. NA is not some elite club.

I’m also not a fan of the word ‘God’ being capitalized in our literature. I actually don’t think that word belongs in our literature at all. ‘Higher Power’ is more all-inclusive.

I also do not believe that there should be a gender associated to this Higher Power. Our literature refers to a higher power as a ‘He’ and, once again the ‘H’ is capitalized. This is too precise and limiting for my tastes.

04/20/10 9:32 AM

I just remembered a 'what the fuck is that all about?' moment. There is a NA group in the area called 'Work the Steps or Die'. I REALLY hope that they didn't get that name from the literature.

That phrase is an inaccurate scare tactic. There ARE clean addicts in the world that don't work Steps and are doing quite well in their own skin. Saying things like that reminds me of religious scare tactics utilized to maintain members whether they wish to continue being members or not

04/20/10 3:57 PM

There is a term floating around that I don’t understand. People who have worked all 12 Steps refer to themselves as ’12 Step Members’. Ummmmm... sounds like an elite club to me. I haven’t sen that term in the literature and when I hear someone refer to themselves as a ’12 Step Member’ I immediately think ‘Fuck you’. We are ALL 12 Step Members if we are working Steps. Why can’t these people simply say ‘I have worked all 12 Steps’?

It just sounds like an exclusive club and it doesn’t represent humility or unity in any way.

04/24/10 11:15 PM

‘Insanity is repeating the same mistakes and expecting different results’
Basic Text Page 23

‘Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.‘
Albert Einstein

I was disappointed to see that this has been plagiarized from Albert Einstein. No credit was given to him. I think its a shitty thing to do. He is an excellent person to get ideas from but he needs to be credited. It shouldn’t be presented as original Narcotics Anonymous terminology.

Today was supposed to be my 'quit day' for cigarettes. I was doing well and I had it planned out:

• hide ashtrays
• sneakers by the bed for morning jog
• OTC sleep aids on nightstand
• be mindful of rationalizing 'just one'
• keep focus that it will be 3 days of temporary misery
• do push-ups when I obsess hard
• drink lots of water
• sleep as much as I can
• avoid people

I slept for about 10 hours last night and lasted 6 hours before I rationalized having a smoke.

It fuckin' pisses me off being so weak. Once I caved in I started having all kinds of negative thoughts (cutting myself, burning myself and even fucking grabbing a few beers).

This cigarette thing reminded me so much of quitting drugs/alcohol. Obsession, compulsion, justification/rationalization, thoughts of 'I'll quit tomorrow', emotions (especially self-hatred), boredom, impatience, hostility and resentment. There were probably more aspects but thats what comes to mind right now.

I smoked a cigarette 'just because'. That scares me because I was telling my sponsor recently that if I got high it would be for no other reason than 'just because'.

I hate being a pussy. Fuckin' HATE it!

I start a new job on Monday and I won't be able to satisfy my nicotine needs sitting at that desk. I can't be irritable and impatient with customers and I can't be taking extra breaks.

Will I try again tomorrow? I don't know. I can't torture myself with those thoughts of negativity induced by failure.

I just gotta fuckin' stop. Cold turkey. Just like when I quit drugs.

I had a list in my head of the benefits of quitting. I ignored that fucking list as the cravings got stronger.

We'll see what tomorrow brings

well i think i had one, anyways i got a job at arby's, been working there for the past week. doin damn good i'll say. my boss came up to me today and said his cash register was $44 dollars short. I know damn well that I didn't do any fucking thing to the money.
He know's my situation, that i'm in a homeless shelter, and knows i must need it or something. i've been broke as fuck all weekend, i have maybe $2 to my name, payday aint till friday.
been living fucking good off of my $200 foodstamps, buy all kinds of munchies n shit, been working and sofa surfing on a friends sofa for now. fucked up that work thinks i took the $. i was like "wtf i have no idea i know for sure i didn't mess up that bad", hell it was my first day on the cash register and not knowing to much shit, i may have fucked up and gave someone the wrong ammount of change back, i dunno. i know the shit didn't go into my pocket.
my boss told me that he wants to talk to me tommrow, i dunno what he's going to fucking say. he knows that people fucking like me at arby's, i talk to the customers, and whats fucked up is i know a few of em (there all in school n shit) and dunno weird not seeing someone for 8+ years. Don't know what my boss is going to do or say, hopefully he doesn't fire me, and just makes it clear or something to me.
Been playing my guitar down town 5points, making beer and weed money. got some clove cigarettes and vanilla dream cigar thi ngs. gonna hit up this store. so here i am at the library. waiting for this 5:30 pm meeting, getting kicked off the computer.
oh going to court sometime this week. gotta check when i go, for that loittering bullshit charge or whatever the shit is. maybe this friday ? 24th?
gonna save them payche checks, found a $93 bus ticket online for a bus trip out of here. going west, or something.
hopefully going to have over a hundred this time.
well will update later,
drew

After over a month of suffering through the pain of trigeminal neuralgia with no painkillers i am finally back on morphine. This may not seem like a good idea to some considering i had a rather bad IV habit for awile and was abusing opiates for a very long time before that but being on morphine is much better then being in agony. Hopefully this time i can manage to not abuse the pills i have and hopefully i won't be chasing a high that is no longer there.

As for the other shit going on in my life such as being stuck back in my hometown, no longer having a g/f (i think? it's rather confusing actually), being majorly depressed and somewhat suicidal suicidal sometimes, trying to stay off the alcohol and do something to stave off the boredom i should be able to work on that now that my pain is finally getting under control.

I am going to start exercising again now that i actually can and hopefully get healthier. I even plan on giving up smoking once the pain and bipolar is under control really well. Giving up cigarettes that is im not giving up my beloved weed . The thought of doing all this is somewhat scary as ive spent the vast majority of my life completely fucked up on some drug and i certainly was not the type to eat healthy or anything. Now im pretty much not eating any red meat at all and im eating most vegtables. Throw in the soy milk i drink and i might as well be a hippie

I have to remember that all this will take awile as it's been abit of a rough year and im not going to repair everything in a month. But hopefully i can do it.

breathing keeps getting shallow, been getting worse lately keep catching myself and forcing deep breaths from time to time

there is a difference between drinking a lot to kill yourself on purpose, and drinking while hoping you will die


hibbidy dibbidy
fuck

So K's excuse for not doing the deed with me is:
He has a cut on his lip and it hurt like hell when we made out the other day.
His words:
"I'm an oral sex fiend; no oral, no sex."
Eh, I guess that's a good excuse.

I am down right now. My old BFF I ran into over the weekend called me up and we made plans to hang out yesterday. Then she never answered my calls...? Plus I feel like I am not being a good friend to a certain person right now...

Today is Monday, April 19th, 2010 and it is now 325 AM here in Brooklyn, New York City.

When we last talked Jackie's sister had put an idea into her head about Jackie possibly giving up 1 of her 2 young daughters. I had jumped off the handle and heavily criticised the idea before stopping to realise that this was Jackie's non-confrontational way of approaching contentious ideas.

Having ascertained that Jackie had been independantly thinking of the idea even before the sister mentioned it, I re-assured Jackie that I will love her no matter what she chooses to do.

Jackie had tried to put the decison on me and I refused outright, explaining to her that were we ever to argue seriously (and of course all couples do), I could not bear to hear her accuse me of making her lose her kids.

And now our show...

2 days later we reached one of those lulls that takes place when a couple IMs 14 hours a day, 7 days a week. I decided to re-introduce the subject of giving up one or both of her daughters. I am ashamed to admit that in the interim the idea had sort of grown on me. After all, I had long wanted to move to Cambodia full time and this would enabe us to do that if we chose. Of course I remained absolutely quiet on the subject for fear of influencing her decison.

Rachamim:"So, baby, remember the subject we talked about the other day? Have you thought about it at all since then?"

Jackie:"What? giving up the girls? Yes, I have."

R:"OK, well what did you decide?"

J:"I am going to give them both up."

R:"Whoaaaaaaa...Are you sure Jackie?"

J:"Yes, I am absolutely sure and this is not because of you, not because of their father, but because it is best for the girls and best for everybody."

*At this point I almost screamed at her. Her ex, as I have explained in previous entries, is a Tausug Tribesman. The Tausug, the indigenous tribe of the Sulu Archipelago between Mindanao and Borneo and resident in the Philippines, Brunei, Malaysia and Indonesia are the tribe responsible for the bulk of violence in the Southern Philippines. from Islamic Insurgency (MNLF, ASG and JI) to large scale commercial piracy and clan feuds the Tausug pain and unpretty picture.

The Philippines has a unique attribute its people should be very proud of: Even super market cashiers must have university degrees. the Tausug by contrast generally have less than 4 years of formal schooling for males, and less or none for females.

Muslims, they marry their daughters off to males of their choosing, almost always 1st cousins, do so by puberty, and always after first removing their clitoris at age 5 to 6. Jackie's eldest is 5. A particularly alarming tribal custom, independant of Islam, involves kidnapping and rape as away in which to acquire wives. Up to 60% of Tausug marriages begin this way.

Still, one cannot change an entire culture. These things exist for *(literally) billions of people and as someone with a degree in an anthropological discipline I am more than aware of the folly of examining a foreign culture through the stunted prisom of my own. He IS their father, that is a fact. As long as he will not beat them or rape them, I cannot judge his cultural practices...but there is a huge part of me wondering whether-or-not I am rolling over far too easily so as to make my and Jackie's life easier.

J: "Baby, do you think bd of me?"

R: "My love I can never do that, EVER. You are the love of my life, my soul mate and in a way I believe I understand your reasoning. However, please explain to me your reasons for doing this.

J:"Raki you are so very white, with coloured eyes [sic]. when we have our babies they will be noticeably 'mestiso' [sic] {a cooption of the Spanish word from the Colonial Era-for mix raced, Spanish and Native American- when Mexico and the Philippines were one governmental entity}. People will see us, and our babies, and they will see they are from you, and from me. They will then see the girls and realise that they are not yours. They will also tease the girls terribly and I want my daughters happy.

*As I noted in my BL Journal back in 2006 or 2007, people in the Philippines (just like anywhere) tend to be overly focused on matters of race and skin colour. Skin whitening products are a huge money maker and there are traveling quacks going about selling operations on the nose and/or eyelids to offer a more Western appearance (the actual result however is more like an extra-terrestial).

The girls are dark skinned, even for the average Filipino because the Tausugs are a darker skinned tribe.

Jackie continued...

J:"I am also worried about Hamza (not his real name), he will not quit until he has the girls or he has me back. It is better for all of us to let them go to their father.

R:"Baby, you do realise that once you give them away you will never be able to see them again and most likely will never hear of them as well?"

*Filipino Muslims, like Hamza, are subject to Shari'a Law (Islamic Law). Shari'a Law dictates that males ALWAYS gain total custody, no visitations are allowed (since there is no divorce for non-Muslims there is no such thing as Custody Cases). Once Hamza gets the girls he will pprobably spirit them to his home island of Jolo, a war racked spit of land which might as well be a different nation...

J:"I kno baby but this is my decison and I am sure of it."

R:"Well, on that note I support you as I said I always would. I love you and will always remember this sacrifice you are making..."

**On that note, character count dictates I must finish off this entry and continue in a subsequent one...

Sometimes, more and more often I can't stand how I perceive the world or rather how I act to be perceived in various situations. I was taught that partly but before that I was the same too, just not a trained one. But one might take a soldier as an example too, a special forces soldier, totally brain-washed to obey all orders. Well, at the end of the day I've never been a guinea pig but it might have just been too much for me to bear. I could cope with that while I still could do my job. I was good at it, I know it, they know it. Now I lost it, I'm losing my lab, more and more acquaintances from the past disappear. I don't believe in mass suicide in jail, one by one, there's always a cause.

So here I'm somewhere in my thoughts, a retired 'soldier'. Right, it's always hard to accept one thing about it. It's a superb thing to do, exceptional, fascinating, immersing, prestigious... But you mustn't tell anyone who you are. Fucking bureaucracy. Protecting idiots who rule and who are in no way different than fraudsters, cheaters, and thieves.

And what am I now? This was like my way of living, where I found myself, where I thought I was at the right place.

Faces. A lot of faces. Different faces. Masks. One for smiling, one for crying, one for hiding feelings. Lie, pretend, fake, whatever is needed. Beat, torment, kill, do whatever you need to get the facts.

We see you as an experienced guy, feel to be chosen, we smash other people like you normally, we don't have to think, we already know. This is kind of your new life, get used to it. To be honest you should already have. Such a craft demands seconds to make decisions.

I already had. It never mattered to me if the color of what I do is black or white.

We got your tests. You're a fucking borderline personality disorder having son of a bitch. There's methadone, some morphine derivatives and benzodiazepines in your blood. We don't care. We do it that way. We put our test into your case instead and you take this to fake another blood tests. We don't mind getting drugged as long as you're not so fucked up that you can't think fast. Yes, you're going to think in nanoseconds. You know what 'nano' means? You better do.

I swallow the god-damned pill. I take the test. Voila, I'm high as a kite and the lab says 'he's clean'. I think fast, I think super fast. I pass all tests after training.

Months passed...

Do I really have to get back to opening anything that is supposed to be safely closed? Yeah, life is sort of a circle. Recurs. Repeats. Like a crossover cable but it does recur.

snap

another 48 hours gone, blown away in a blur. money i earn slaving away every week day, goes down the tubes again in a haze of drugs and alcohol.

lines of white powder mean i live in the night and sleep in the day. another weekend of temporary new friends, of empty smiles and laughter. waking up in another nameless girl's bed, the shameful stumble home in the morning.

drugs sex and rock n roll, thats what youth is all about right? why is it still so empty? who promised me the world and delivered nothing?

the steady encroaching feeling of wanting to throw it all away follows me still. whispered words to leave it all behind, leave the lonely castle i've built for myself. im not good enough, it was all for naught.

is it the courageous option to turn away and run, or stay and fight?

I always dream of new beginnings, maybe the dream should be to fix the one i've started? pick up the pieces and show her, show them that ive won? what does that even mean? is this about revenge? about proving myself to someone who doesnt even care?

i'm still running, still escaping hiding. every good turn i've made in the past year, i've gone back a thousand times over. there has been no progress, even regression. i haven't faced anything, and again, i know that tonight, i'll hide again.

there is no end in sight, no great revelation which will turn things around. just more darkness. slowly unfocusing.

I have been wanting to write for a while now, its been in the back of my mind pushing its way to the front yearning for expression. What is yearning for expression I am not sure, but there is definitely a desire to let my thoughts and my heart pour on to the canvas. Today I went to Mass for the first time in over a year . And this has been one of a handful of times I have gone in the past five years. As I grew up I never found much interest in Mass though I have always been infatuated by religion and spirituality. I never quite understood what the priests were saying or worse I was so far towards the back as my Mom was habitualy late to everything that I was unable to clearly hear what they were saying. As I grew older we stopped attending church as it didnt seem to do much for my Mom or step dad or me for that matter.

But there was always a spark inside of me waiting to be kindled yearning for some understanding of life some meaning, some point to it all some higher or greater truth... something. I knew that there was something to existance or life , I knew that there was something I was missing, life was not just some random meaningless jumble of atoms. This spark for truth grew as my grandpa and I started to talk on the issues of God and the universe. My Grandpa is a stoud Athiest, who believes in the rationality of man and the sciences. He told me that God is like santa clause. He has played the role of the skeptic in my life always questioning spirituality and my later drug induced experiences of oneness with the universe.

But back to where all this started I went to Mass today and I found it beautiful, besides the priest essentially calling people deadbeats if they were unable to donate money to the church. I had shivers up my spine and hair stood on end as I listened to the hymns and prayers. I felt my heart slowly opening, and a silence blanketed my mind. Even as I first walked into the church today there was a certain energy in the air, I felt a subtle calm, a soothing feeling. I will no doubt be going to Mass again as there is something to be gained by going, I still feel uplifted 2 and a half hours after mass ended. For the past three years or so I abandoned my Catholic roots completely in search of my own truth and it started with my experimentation with psychedelics especially LSD and psilocybin.

As soon as I had my first experiences with psychoactive substances the fire in my heart blossomed. There was no turning back. Those chemicals opened my eyes to another way of seeing, another way of experiencing, it was like a key that let me walk out of my own psychological prison. Boy did I walk out, I burned the prison down and felt alive for the first time, my breath was fantastic, it was exhilirating. My senses felt electric. I looked into others eyes and it was as if I was looking into the depth of their being, not even... my own being. There was a deep unity, but not on a mental level but a feeling, even beyond feeling it was a seeing, a deep knowing that all was love, all was ok. Life was beautiful. Damn was it beautiful. Like so superbly beautiful these words are dead in comparison. And this did not feel like some drug induced delusion, some fake hallucination, this felt more real, more meaningful then anything that had ever happened in my life. Its like truth took a hammer and knocked me out of my head and most of all my misery. The problem with this experience is that it didnt stay, once I came down it went away, the chains slowly weighed me back down again, the prison walls were built back up. And that was the problem with every one of these experiences which for me were innumerable I couldnt get enough as every time I did it I was one with it all, saw beauty and truth in everything. Later to come down to the same old "me" the same old dead reality, the mundane drone of it all. But I clung to these experiences knowing that they were pointing to something greater, pointing to who or what the hell we really are.

Thats when I discovered Buddhism and eventually Timothy Leary and later Ram Dass. This put my experiences into perspective, and made me know for certain that I was not insane, but there was something to these insights gained through drugs. For those of you who dont know who Timothy Leary or Richard Alpert are (ie. Ram Dass) they were PhD. psychologists from Harvard who researched, consumed and popularized LSD and mushrooms in America. They were the guru's of the 60's authors of numerous books, and psychonaut explorers. They became my heroes as they were people who I could relate to, people who had been to the edge of their minds and beyond and came back to tell about it. The problem with my experiences was that no one knew what the hell I was talking about, didnt care or thought I had a case of LSD insanity. But when you have lived a typical normal life, and then something that mindblowing enters your life you cant help but become obssesively passionate about it. I was like a preacher for LSD and any psycho-active drug for that matter for I knew there was something. Eventually the chemicals stopped working or the supply evaporated and I was left with ganja, I realized that those experiences were impermanent and if I wanted to live in the modern world I could not be high on lsd and mushrooms a few times a week. I stuck to pot and started meditating and burning incense, that was my idea of spirituality light a joint, and read the Buddha.


Over the next year or so I devoured anything Buddhist... actually anything Eastern. The ideas of suffering, emptiness, no-self, enlightenment and imperamanence fascinated me not to mention Reincarnation which to me sounded romantically mystical. Whats interesting about Buddhism is that suffering and impermanance arent really theories or faith based ideas they are basic observations of the reality we inhabit. Everything changes, everything perishes, everything dies and every human I have met has suffered at one point or another if not continually. So I could jive with these concepts because they were fundamental truths that I could confirm in my own existance. Just watch how truly impermanent everything in your life is. You dont even have to look around you just watch your breath.... in and out each breath fades into nothingness. Your thoughts come and go. Relatives die. Meals end. Sensations end. Emotions end. Your favorite dog or pet dies. The days pass by and before you know it your old... nothing is static, nothing is permanent. Buddhism brings this truth right into the broad daylight of your consciousness. Its like KABLAM death is at your door step, and you dont have to wait to the end of your life, its happening, and its all around you, this whole life is melting away fading into impermanance.

Now this seems overly nihilistic like who the hell would want to learn a religion that emphasizes suffering and impermanance? But there is a light at the end of the tunnel which is enlightenment, or liberation from suffering which Buddhists call awakening from Samsara or the dream. Thats what Buddha means... awakened one. They asked the buddha are you a saint? Are you a God? he said no, I am awake. So the beauty in this religion is that there is an end to your suffering a way out. When you awaken from the dream of your self, birth, old age, sickness and death then you are free from the cycle of rebirth free from the pains of existance. You are a Buddha. Basically the fundamental nature of your own mind is Buddha-nature, or as Tibetans call it the Dharmakaya the eternal clarity, spaciousness, love and compassion that is the true nature of all beings and all things. And when you realize yourself to be this fundamental awakeness then you are freed from your ignorance.

Now that sounds great but Westerners are gonna say how is this any different then the God who sits on his throne and where is the practicality in it all?

To be continued.... much more to come gotta go for now