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I thought I was done with being in this sort of head space, but apparently not. I let the littlest things bother me and get needlessly upset about them to the point where I want to hurt myself over something incredibly stupid. I know it's irrational, but I can't help it. I just want to be normal and not so fucking sensitive. I want out of this.

But it isn't, apparently. We had a work dinner on Saturday night in Red Hill, a pretty up market Italian Restaurant.

About 20 of us were there and a lot of people ordered the fillet steak and the lamb cutlets. Neither dish came with any choice of sauce (usually mushroom, pepper or diane- creamy lovely sauces).

So it was ok but seemed like a boring home cooked meal. So the guys on my table shared my mustard cream sauce I got on my tuna steak, which was excellent.

They were also rude and abrupt with their service and did not want us going out for a smoke before we paid the bill, so I wont be going there again.

Tom came along and stayed over, we have been going real strong since we got back together. We went away to the Gold Coast last weekend and tripped on acid at the casino. Watched the Discovery channel and found out all the different ways humanity will be anihlated- not bad fun on drugs. Seemed to be a good idea to run from our room into the casino screaming "we are all going to die!!"

Luckily common sense prevailed and we didnt bother warnung anyone of our impending doom.

Im ready for bed, indulged in a bit this weekend and Im not as young as I used to be so bouncing back is tough!

Gnite

This night was a strange night. I was about 16 at the time.
I was going out with a guy named Sam. He was a drug user. I thought he only smoked pot but i witnessed him snorting Coke, Base, takin E's, you name it. Anyway.
My best friend, Lewis. was a mutual friend of Sam and I. Lewis would have a party almost every weekend where endless amounts of people would show up drunk/high.

I was personally never into drugs. everyone around me seemed to be, but i just enjoyed the drunkness. My brother was a junkie so i learned by his state.

So, the real part of the story. Sam and I were invited to Lewis's party on the saturday and of course we were going to go.
I dressed really nice, little black dress, and my blonde hair was hanging down my back. Sam said i looked beautiful. And i believed him.
We walked into Lewis's house, and it was crowded. Booze/drugs everywhere. It looked pretty lively. I went through to the kitchen to grab something to drink, getting stopped by random people shouting "i love you!".

I grabbed myself a Jack Daniels and Coke and set off through to the main room, the living room. As soon as i walked in, the fumes from the Weed hit me. It was so smoky in there, but i didn't really care. I lit a cigarette and sat down next to a dark haired guy, who i'd never met.

We started talking about random things, as you do with strangers, and then sam came through to the living room. this was about an hour later. He asked me to go with him. I said bye to the stranger and followed Sam to the bathroom.

His pupils were so big. almost as big as his Iris. I looked at him and he looked angry.
"don't you fucking go near that guy right, he only wants a piece of you right!?!?" he yelled.
I looked at him with a horrified look and said, "we were just chatting about music."
He grabbed my arm very tightly, so tight that i could see the veins in my arm. he made me look in the mirror in front of us and said, "LOOK AT YOU, YOU ARE A STATE, NO BODY WANTS YOU, SO DON'T BOTHER TRYING THEM ON, YOU UGLY WHORE!!"
I struggled from his grip, by this time i was crying. i ran off. to the livingroom again. He never followed me.
I sat in the living room with all the other people sniffing and snorting. a few hours went by and i was completely High from the fumes.
I was singing songs from Bambi. And i could hardly keep my eyes open. Everything around me looked so distinct but i couldnt be bothered asking anyone about this. I just sat comfortably and sucked in the atmosphere.

It was about 12.30am. Sam came through to the living room. And i was getting up to go get a pizza from the pizza shop. and inconveniently, the stranger who i didn't know, said he'd come with me. I told sam i was going to get pizza. he looked at me like he wanted to kill me, but i didnt care, i was starving. So me and random guy toddled along to the pizza shop.

We got the pizza and headed back.
I opened the front door, and there was sam. I'd been gone about 45mins because there was a huge waiting line at the pizza place, obviously because it was saturday night.
Sam had fire in his eyes. I opened the pizza box and asked him if he wanted a slice. I smiled at him, to try and cool him off. He glared at me, and all of a sudden i felt my face burning.

HE'D THROWN THE PIZZA BOX IN MY FACE.

I had burning hot melted cheese all over my face and it felt like it was melting my face. i screamed and ran to the toilet, sam followed me. I yelled, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? YOU ASSHOLE!!??" he replied "you were off fucking that loser weren't you, WERENT YOU!!! you fucking SLUT!!! FUCK YOU, YOU FUCKING UGLY CUNT!!! i don't want A SLUT as a girlfriend, FUCK OFF HOME!!!"

Tears were streaming down my face. I ran to see Lewis, and he said sam had taken 4 lines of coke and he had popped an E. I said i was leaving, and i ran to my sisters.

I had water blisters forming all over my face. I was crying and i was in so much pain.
My sister wouldnt answer her door, so i had no option but to go back..

I went back, and sam had left...
Lewis let me have his room for the night. i really needed to sleep. he put dressing on my face, and went off looking for sam...


The rest of this story isnt important. BUT..

DRUGS MAKE YOU VIOLENT.

Safe to say i am NOT with sam anymore. He was a great bloke when he was sober. but a monster when he was high.
And i don't advise drugs to anyone..

Thanks for reading my long, boring, story.

I am usually pretty hesitant to discuss this sort of thing with people b.c many people laugh or think I am a kook......
But I am hoping that others that read this will share their stories as well........
I have had countless experiences with Spirits since I was a child....before I knew they were spirits and now today, knowing they are.
My mother has said that from a young age I spoke of a lady in white (I know how typical, but its true). Not only have I seen her, but many others have seen her and one friend spoke with her- Basically I think she is my guide......
I have seen my ancestors, I have seem people I don't know- I have felt experiences a spirit has gone through and later been able to verify it-
It seems no matter where I go I am followed by spirits.
My best friend has told me (and she is a bit afraid of the whole talking to the dead/ghosts thing) that she thinks it is because I am open to them.
I am open and I have only been fearful of one ghost out of literally hundreds......
I feel like I get messages and tonight I'm wondering what I am supposed to do with them.
For the first time I am wondering - why?
Some experiences the -why- is obvious-
but like today for example.....
I often bring my husband to his caregivers house, and I wait in the car. Their house is on alot of property. EVERYTIME I am there I hear and see the spirits that occupy the land. There is a woman who loves her garden. She says it is her sanctuary. She has shown me a house (which I am unclear on b/c she has shown it to me in three different ways) But each way the house is she walks out facing west. She says her garden is back there and she always felt at peace when the wind would blow through her fruit trees and she would be gardening out back......
Then I see her husband and son. The husband and son are always in the same position- Like the father is telling his son something. I feel that he is explaining the workings of their farm. I also felt that the son grew up and changed the farm which brought his father disappointment.....
SO- I asked my husband to ask the caregivers if they knew the history of the farm there and who owned it before them.....My husband calls my cell and tells me they have some stories for me.
Turns out the 2 guys are too afraid to walk their property b/c of the hauntings- Things get broken,played with , tipped over or knocked down while they are sitting right there and see that nothing is happening to cause it- They have a camera outside their property and sometimes the camera goes fuzzy....I have told my husband the stories of all of this before I go in there so he knew what I have seen and felt there- Then the guys tell me that through the camera they have seen a woman tending her rose bushes and they thought it was a real woman, so they run outside and there is noone there-
They go back in, look through the camera, and there she is......gardening.
So I ask if I can look around the property b/c the woman told me behind a building there was part of her garden- The guys tell me to go ahead, and I go back there- sure enough an overgrown garden is right where she told me.
I could see the rhubarb survived and there were other plants there too under the weeds.....obviously not taken care of for many many years.
There were also a couple fruit trees the had died but the trunks still there and one died before it grew.....I felt a pull down the dirt drive and she said "That is new, it is not supposed to be here" and so I started walking towards it and my husband called me and said to leave........

So now tonight I am wondering, what can I do with this information? I did tell the men that they just loved their land and it was their property and to not be afraid........but is that the whole purpose of me being shown these things?
I have had SOOOOOO many experiences like this that I am now wondering - why?
I am really putting myslef out there with this so please don't tease me. I am being serious and no, I am not crazy,.....
If you can relate, I'd love to hear your stories and your opinions.....

• Date: August 2009

This job I recently applied for said they would call sometime mid-week. I have been keeping my suboxone dose low, and my current status was in the process of becoming sick. The miraculous effect of feeling normal was wearing off. Still lying in bed tossing and turning I figure there is no point in trying to sleep anymore, my legs wouldn't give me the chance so fuck it. Rolling myself into a sitting position at the foot of the bed my bare feet touch the old greased texture of the short carpet in my room. I look around at the miss-matched walls reminding me that I still have to fix a hole in the bottom right corner of one of them. Grabbing my jacket off the pile of clothes next to me on the bed I loom upstairs. I always hated having to walk out of my room, the carpet might suck but it was nothing compared to walking across the cold unfinished concrete in my grandparents basement barefoot.

Heading in the kitchen grandma is cleaning like she does every weekend. I greet her and walk back downstairs to wait for her to finish. I check my phone and noticed I had just missed a call from the one of the HR people at the place I applied. I return her call to find out that I finally had my first job in two years. It was the best feeling of relief...all the bills...money I owe...finally being able to get myself out of debit and able to buy new clothes was a feeling of relief that I couldn't even begin to explain to you.

Once I knew I landed the job, of course the thought of getting high was tempting...well, more like un-resistible. I didn't have anything but a small tube of various prescription pills I had collected over time. If I can remember right I believe it was two Xanax bars (4mg), two Ambien (10mg), twelve Trmadol (600mg), Muscle relaxers, one Lunesta (3mg), 5 Tmazepam's (75mg), and to top it off I drank it down with a shot of Jin. Within an hour I felt a head change but it wasn't satisfying my addict ways. I gave my dope dealer a call and he said to meet him downtown...now this is where things start to get a little blurry. I remember getting the dope and then my dealer and his lady asked to fix in my car. Of course I didn't mind.

I took out my kit, tied the tourniquet around my arm, filled the needle, and did a shot. The feeling was unlike anything I remembered, just feeling that warmth encasing my body like a warm hug from my lover. My head lowered, stomach turned, and eyes closed. It still wasn't enough, I did another which was my worst mistake. I remember fading in and out, my friends were consistently waking me up. Shouting for me to come back, but I was too far gone and could tell this was a nod I wasn't going to be able to get myself up from.

I woke up the next morning in my car parked outside my house. Couldn't remember anything after the point of my friends trying to wake me. I called Friendly to ask him what happened or if he knew and the words from his mouth were "dude you don't remember overdosing yesterday?". Apparently he said that two of my friends bailed and it was me and him. He forced me to get out of the car and we walked for three hours. It wasn't till two hours I was finally able to walk without having to hold onto him. He said I was making no sense when I talked. I was gone, when he finally thought I was ok to drive home we had to push my car because the reverse wasn't working.

That's all I really know from the night, I'm sure there is more too it but my friend said most of it was just trying to keep me awake so I didn't fall out. I'd sure like to know why $10 was missing from my wallet and my pack of cigs were empty the next day however.

Now...people do stupid shit...then stupid people like twenty-year old Acea Schomaker, do some straight up dumb ass stupid shit. Two months ago Lancaster County sheriff officers responded to a domestic disturbance call because Schomaker was smoking pot through a garden hose attached to a duct taped, plastic glass box with a chillum on the other end, and his cat stuffed inside. He told police that his six month old cat was hyper and all he wanted to do was calm her down. He was released from jail after he paid a $400 fine and his cat was taken from him and put into a shelter. He now faces drug and misdemeanor animal cruelty charges, but seriously man. It's one thing if you smoke inside and your pet gets a contact high, but it's a whole different story when you go out of your way to build something designed to hotbox your cat! Not to mention for someone to call the police, the cat had to obviously had to be fighting and making noise to get out. So at what point do you think it ever crossed his mind the cat didn't like it? Luckily the cat managed to make a full recovery and was only "temporarily dazed". Below are two pictures, one of the home-made bong and the other of Acea himself.

Sources:

• http://www.newsvine.com/_news/2009/03/02/2496966-catcalls-for-nebraska-man-who-stuffed-pet-in-bong

I want to be in one. I don't know if this is a way for me to get outside of myself or not.

It'll happen in time I guess. Just would like to be accepted by a female. Well, to be honest, I want to be LOVED by a female (and love her back EQUALLY).

If I keep doing the right things and take care of myself in a healthy manner, maybe it will happen.

Bleh! I guess I'm a bit needy.

At least I can admit it.

I always wanted to be on top.... In my dreams i see the life I made , always bridgin between the islands i back myself onto so i can keep walkin on in the mean time that I hope.

Is it that much to ask...Na its just wat everyone wants really.....And the pain of not realizin those dreams tears streamin down my face knowin that cuz of the choices i made i aint never gonna reach that and all the things Ive lost chasin......Is it really worth it.....

i want things to go my way,
but as of late a lot of shit been goin sideways,
and my mother tried to runaway from home,
but i left somethin in the car and so i caught her in the driveway,
and she cried to me so i cried too,
and my stomach was soakin wet,
she only 5'2,....
in person i am everything and more,
im everywhere these other niggas never been before,
but inside im treadin waters steady tryin to swim ashore..........

Ghetto street lites, crack pipes, bottles breakin street fights. air so thick you could pull it aside like a curtain and look deeper into the night. chore boy smokin, blowin up like fire flys, wide eyes your turn for mouth burns. Invisible armies wakin slowly in the darkness, a candle lit to shoot that shit, and lay back down in a under ground palace of some developers forgotten dream, claimed back to nature by the feens, Someplace yall aint never been but I sat there silent as a ghost in a ghosts world as piles of arms and legs came to life and start their 5 to 9.

I said Im in control but know the diesel got the reins, i got my hands upon the wheel but I cant hear my angel sayin, the things Im sposed to listen to , I just keep on drivin me and you, diablo of my dreams you slowly spoil everything. I been thru it enough times It should seem old, but its never enough, never enough to fill you up.

You learn to be invisible to see things unfold around you, breathe the night until your lungs are full and chokin with that downward pull, til youd be happy anywhere as long as you can nod out, no concern while a steady smoldering spark of newport burns out. your face lookin like a angel laid down to rest peace behind your eyelids and nothin beats inside your chest. The night magic will hold you close til morning light stretches its fingers and grabs the city from its spell its night time fantasy and youre just another body nothin beautiful just a junkie passed out behind some house and no one knows or come to see, Your toe tag, No ID.

but til then your soul travels up over the roof tops and smoke stacks, projects and leaky roofs, take it all in, Be everything you want to be. Be the world, let it exist inside your memory, dont forget one second before your one way trip to heaven or beyong....Behind scarred up apartment doors TVs blare and guns are shined and wiped clean. little rubber bands plink across their bricks like a mini home made guitar band on the underside of life. babies cry out 9th floor fire excapes and it rides on the air til the sound gets swallowed by the smog. Outside on the sidewalk swagga meets with unknown darkness on the other side of the block, But he walks careful prepared and ready for that fatal shot. Every day you got to be ready its all we know, cuz ya never know, when ya gonna go.....

Slow motion ripples of voices passin thru the air like mollasses, smack and hit the wall and silenced. dont pay that no mind , it aint for you to find out.
My nights electric full of possibilities somebody down the street kicks a stone and it explodes into echoes down the alley way. Street life, you can get away from time, Street life, for a nickel or a dime. Wails the radio tape deck in a shitty cassette that aint gonna see the junk yard just yet. Under peachy pale moon light you see things as they really are just all one never ending dream, You fly and fly and years go past, you fly until you hit the glass, a broken neck a slowing heart a bird lays twitchin on the ground, such little wings and delicate things that dont want to face the future you found.

That, fucking, bitch.

Wait, Ill explain. When I was in Beauty School there was a young teacher, only a few years older than me really.

She was a sweetheart. Alot of days she would come in with her heart broke over somethin or other, a boyfriend tormenting her, tryin to get back with her after treatin her bad-She was one of the only real white girls in the school. So we always came at her with some real talk and helped keep her goin. She would confide to us and wed say, Na uh girl, Miss Lisa, you got to let him go, and keep him gone. Done let that fool fuck up your life no more. She would always be thinkin of goin back to a man that treat her like dirt and wed say Helllllllll No. Dont even give that nigga a second chance. we gave her hood advice, full of tender love for a girl that hadnt seen the hard knocks of life yet. we wanted to protect her silly ass, didnt want to tell her the hard truth that a fragile doll like her was sure to break sooner or later. We just cushioned her when she fell and hugged her when she cried. A teacher. Us students. Yet we had a special kind of love for her, I wouldnt say looked up to, but my girls is older than me, and older than her but we still listened to wat she said and called her MISS lisa. We respected her in a way I guess.

Shed be cryin but after me and my girls was thru with her shed have that determine look on her face like yea, thats right, Im a woman and I dont need no man to make me whole . We got her on the right track.

She treated us good when she was our teacher. She taught things over and over even when we had trouble, she made shit fun. When our class passed farther into the next teachers room and we became juniors, the class she took on next to us was puttin up halloween decorations, havin costume parties on that friday. Haha, me and my girls skipped lunch and smoked a blunt , walked right down Main Ave and burned that thing, came back to class all smilin at each other with our shades on.

Anyways, Ms Lisa. As Ill call her here , aint gonna use her real name. She was a pretty girl and she was a nice girl. You felt like you could trust her. I talked to her alot. And maybe I trusted her too much, as much as she reassured me. I never knew her true alliances.

I loved that school. At first I was always there. I would make sure I got there on time. You had 4 lates a month, and then if you got in after 10 am, you had to go home, wasnt no second chance. Since i was drivin a ways to get there I made sure that I got there on time, at the beginning.

Summer months came along and the good times began. We moved from the beginners classroom, where it was very strict and quiet, to the next level where our teacher really didnt seem to give that much of a fuck. We had fun. Listenin to the radio all day, just sittin and chillin when we was supposed to be puttin in finger waves. And the teacher would look over and wed look back like, Make me nigga. Make me. Ima sit right here in this chair if I damn well want to and thats wat its gonna be.

I remember sneakin cigarettes out the back door in the middle of classes, people turnin their head and not payin attention. We only was allowed to smoke on lunch and break.

And shit...break....Break was when I had my delivery diesel come bring me a couple bags that I could boot before I went across the street to get my Dunkin Donuts. That was the shit.

And lunch?

Well, Lunch for me, was Broadway chicken. And you know wats only a few blocks down and a few blocks to the left of broadway chicken, The madison building.

Me and my girls would ride in the car together, id run over to the cross street and pickup a bundle or two and drive us back to school. And I was always in that bathroom right before class started again. They was always turnin a blind eye, that i was solid steel balls enogh to pick up diesel right there with them in the car, and didnt care, the pretense that I had a man who was a feen and he got caught so i picked up his for him everyday and he paid me alot to do it. Wat a joke, they seen right thru, but let me do it, not wantin to push in on my bizness. And after we got back from lunch, it was time to pack up our junk, our chicken bones, soda cans and get back to work, but not before I hit the bathroom.

The bathroom.

That bathroom....Yellow tile walls, little window to the left, if you stood facing the door. One person room, no bigger than a closet. yellow tile floors. The look of your grandmas bathroom that aint been changed since 1971. Cracked white sink, cracked mirror with little plastic frame with scalloped edges. I loved sittin down on that toilet seat and leanin backwards, around to the flat surface of the tank makin up my shot, turnin on the water and flushing right as i was ready to boot it, and then Bam, Walk outta there with a smile on my face.

It started to be, that I didnt even want to be in that bathroom, unless I was shooting up. I miss that bathroom. I loved it so much. My quiet, peaceful place of solitude. I coulda stayed in there for hours if you woulda let me. damn.

The day it happened, I wish somebody couldda told me, thats the last time you ever gonna shoot up in your favorite bathroom. This is the last day you ever gonna see your friends. No goodbyes. no nothin. just gone. Why didnt they tell me?

It happened in the mornin.

I had always been a diesel sharp shooter. I used short tip needles, but when i hit up the exchange that day, they only had the long ones. Somethin weird happened. I missed my whole damn shot. My arm got all swole up and red, all up and down. big as hell. blood on my elbow sleeve.

I was worried, worried, i never had seen a missed shot get that big and fucked up and painful before, and I said well, I trust you miss lisa. I pulled her asied and layed it down real quick, wat did she think I should do, and you aint gonna tell no one right?

She said youll be fine dont worry. I wont tell, just get back into class and dont tell nobody.

Later that day, they sent me to the office. Said they think i should take the rest of the day off and cant come back til i get a meeting with the head of the school.

So I spent weeks waitin. Stayin at my moms best friend place down in elmwood park. Maybe 10 minutes away from school.

Id wake up and act like Im gettin ready, and then go out around 10 am and see my man V. Wed take our early morning ride over to the projects in passaic and cop , and spend the rest of the day parked over on a street near his house that was perfect for people like us. We didnt do much. Shoot up and nod. Shoot up and nod. talk about things, go for a little ride here and there maybe. A couple pick up a couple drop offs. Usually by 3 wed be back at the PJ's again, coppen more bags.

3 was when school ended. If i was realy in school, I would be back by 3 30 or so. But the lady i stayed with worked til 5 got home 5 30 so I could really stay out , under the excuse of havin been staying late at school (u could stay til 5 if u wanted), and be out all day gettin high.

Alot of times that ended up bein me never even comin back til 11, 12 or so, id just send a text saying Im on my way over to somebody else house , so n so, and that would b that. Days went on like this. Weeks. Nobody noticed that I wasnt really going to school. October was when I was told to go home and take the rest of the week off. I didnt have a meeting til the middle of november. All that time, when i was suppose to be in school I was out runnin scams n things.

Thats how I caught my charge you know. Instead of goin to school, since i was banned til further notice, i set up a lil thing with V and we traveled up to a little town a ways away, that somethin was supposed to happen in, somethin that was gonna put about 2 grand in our hands.

Well, that somethin turned out to be 5 undercover cars arresting us and takin us to holding cells for the rest of the night.

Ill stop here, before the hellish hard scrabble and bone life that I always knew I had it in me to live, but hated to do anyways, the life that came after that, thats another story for another time. Cuz this is about school. And its about Ms Lisa.

I could never figure out where the evidence for me to get kicked out came from. I never told em shit! How can they do this, on some assumption? They told me to go to detox, and when i came back, I could come back to my classes. To my girls, my education, my friend miss lisa.

I went to detox and on that cold ass december day, worlds away from the warm yellow tile bathroom, I called and announced my return. And they said...You been expelled.

I been wat?

I wasnt comin back.

I tried puttin the pieces together. I never admitted shit, nothing. How did it all fall down like that?

A year ago today, I was one month into my classes. I think about the wonderful times I had. My girls, the ones i barely talk to now, other than my 2 real bitches. I miss them. I miss them all. I miss the tables, the chairs, the radio, the lunch room in the basement. I miss class letting out , everybody ready with their plans for after school. Me excited and already out the door to go see V and shoot some heron into my arms and watever other adventures our night would bring. Always askin if I wanted to go to the hotel, shoot dope and coke and fuck all night. We never did. V was the kinda nigga that woulda made me pay for the room.

Well yesterday was some shit. But first off Ima tell yall a lil bit about the legal bullshit ocean always swirlin around me tryna suck me down into one of them underwater tornado things.

I aint sure who of all yall know about the shit I been thru legal wise. And shit many of us on here been in plenty of trouble, so I aint writin this like im some kind of special case or nothing. I just kno that Ive talked about it on here sometimes and people has became aware that i was facin multiple charges and possible jail or state prison term.

So I aint got nothing else to do. I am waitin for my methadones i just popped to kick in and do they thing so I will give a brief history of all my 3 arrests and wat is the outcome.

Arrest #1. Last week of june 2008.
Me and my homeboy/ridin partner S*Dot used to cop on the corner outside a certain not very well known building in paterson. (not well known as in, it was not a notorious place to cop dope like the alabama projects were before they shut em down.) I know alot of jersey feens that copped in paterson know the one Im talkin about and copped in the same block. It was not on Madison ave but it was a couple blocks off in that section of paterson that madison runs thru. I aint gonna get more specific tho cuz anybody who might know would already recognize the place Im talkin about. and if not I aint gonna tell you how to go get arrested cuz that spot is hot as hell fryin in a grease pan anyways.

But my point...back to the story....We went to go get a bundle for him cuz i had copped earlier in the day. We double parked on the block waitin for our man to come serve us. he did, we put shit away, and then drove around to get cigs/drink/boot up in a bathroom somewhere in paterson. around 45 minutes later we go to pick up my homie and his boy. Well we all get back in the car and get on the highway and all a sudden I got lit up. mad undercovers busted us, they had been watchin us and followin us the whole time. *facepalm*

That one got me a charge for possession of 6 bags of heroin. Even tho the cop seen my boy throw the dope on my lap and seen him cop it and knew i was only the ride they charged us both with the same thing.

It was a 3rd degree felony but they took it down to a misdemeanor and let me plead for conditional discharge in municipal court with the understanding that if i fucked up my probation, i had to face the charge AGAIN but back to bein a felony this time. So the outcome was six months of probation. Easy. TOO easy. I never even reported to them til december and i started in october.

Arrest#2 - Well I woulda been good to go except in November I set up a deal to sell 50 OC80's to this kid. Now before u go callin me stupid for dealin with someone I dont know. I had pressure from both sides. One, from my connect, who was pushing me to find him business and then i could work for him and make money off all the dirt we did. Two, from the custie. I met him on a train leavin newark and he lived in teh same town as me so i took his number. I could see he was a dope feen he had tracks and was dopesick, no mistakin that. So i figure, hes a junkie not a cop. The third reason I gave in and decided to go with a bad decision and sell to smoeone I didnt know, was that my moms had been havin a problem paying a bill that was really high , and it was kinda my fault. So i had the chance to get some money to help her pay this bill and I really wanted to help her out. The greed for my own money, plus the desire to help my mother, and the constant pushing from my source to move product and the buyer blowin me up like yo i need it im soooo sick please help me, i just lost my senses and went wit it.

So i arranged this deal and when I pulled into the parking lot to meet him, Instead I got a warm friendly welcome from the county narcotics taskforce, 4-5 cars blocking me in. I had no drugs on me or no paraphenalia or nothing at all i was totally clean cuz my boy had been riding with me and he was holding them.

So I was facin a 1-7 year prison sentence on conspiracy charges. The snitch told them that I was the mastermind of the whole local area, that i was the main supplier of my entire town and that i was selling in the local highschool to underage kids. All of that was 100% completely fabricated.

Turns out, they had wiretapped my phone. Unfortunately for them, the warrant they got for the wiretap was bad becuz they used improper procedure to get it. They had no evidence but hearsay from the snitch, since they all swarmed me before i could even get out of my car to make the deal. Meaning they never actually caught me doing anything illegal at all other than the phone conversation......Which was evidence that might get thrown out in court. So the prosecutors knew they had a shitty weak case, and if it went to trial and the phone tapes werent admissable, theyd lose. So, they offered me a plea of probation. I had been told that 95% most likely i was gettin locked up, and if the cops had waited even 5 more minutes to jump out, they woulda actually caught me in a illegal ACT not just illegal plans. So even tho i knew it could go to trial i didnt want to take the chance of a judge having a bad day and sendin me away for 3 years so i took the plea. I found out from my lawyer that if the cops had just waited a few more miniutes their case would have been air tight and i woulda did a mandatory minimum of 1 year. So when I came on here and said I was goin to jail....I meant it. I am so lucky to be out right now. that one minor detail changed my entire future.

Arrest #3 - Last week of January. Me and my BF cop a brick and 3 bags of piff. We park in the dunkin donuts parking lot on route 20 in paterson and he fixes up. I told him i wanted to leave and thought it would be sketcky to boot up there becuz alot of cops comes thru DnD lol. Well he woulddnt listen so i said it will prolly be fine. Well, As I am gettin ready to make up my shot, out of fuckin NOWHERE there is a cop standing outside my window tellin me to get out of the car. BAM. Dude appeared outta thin air i swear.

I usually always got my shit stashed good, but i was RIGHT in the middle of preppin a shot, the brick was just sitting in my purse and my purse wasnt even zipped shut, the dope was in plain view. So we both got took in that night.

That got me 3 charges, for possession of a brick, for possession of 3 bags of weed, and for 3 sets. They dropped the weed and needles charge and now I just got the possession of 48 bags charge. My lawyer managed to get me a non custodial agreement which means probation not jail. But all of these cases is still pending.

I aint sure wats gonna happen with my first case. Nobody notified me from that court or nothing, you would think that getting arrested 2 times while on probation might bring some attention to yourself but apparently they didnt know about this. so i aint sure if the oldd charges is gonna get brough back still, or if i can compleete probation by the end of this month and have that one taken care of.

Either way, Im gonna have either 2 or 3 felony convictions on my record. Hopefully thats all. I didnt want to bore yall with this shit but some people have asked me wat was goin on with me and my cases and shit so now its here explained in full detail.

So, the outcome right now is....

CASE#1 - On pause, may get closed or re opened and then i will have to face the possession charge again but in superior court this time as a felony
CASE#2 - Plea to probation to run concurrent with any other probation
CASE#3 - Pleaded out for undetermined amount of probation time and poss. drivers license loss.

And just yesterday I almost got arrested sittin waiting for my guy when the state police rolls up and asks wat Im doin. I showed him my money and said i aint cop yet and he said get the fuck out and dont come back. At that moment in time, i coulda been so, so, sooooo fucked beyond belief. Its already a huuuuuuuge stretch that i got these pleas that I did and am avoiding jail. One more strike and im OUT....seriously out....on some 3-5 shit. Pray for my stupid junkie soul that it will fall back and let reason and logic start to take root in my brain&heart.

Yeah, I truly do dig parts of my past. I still wear my 21 year old Doc Martens and I think I may be obsessed with them a bit.

I keep them polished ALWAYS (its disrespectful to stomp on a motherfucker with scuffed boots). I have a backup pair of blue laces for them as well.

On the east coast blue laces traditionally symbolizes a 'straight edge' perspective. It can also symbolize the support of SkinHeads Against Racial Prejudice (S.H.A.R.P.). True SHARPs wear green laces on the east coast.

I'm not a skin but I support those SHARPie bastards!

I enjoy parading my beliefs through the eyelets of my boots. No-one recognizes the symbolism but it means something to me.

I only wish the SHARP subculture was stronger nowadays. Its truly necessary to balance out those white-power assholes who have tarnished the name of the original, working class, solidarity/unity based youths (male and female) who began the TRUE movement which NEVER harbored racial bias towards anyone.

I'm doing things different nowadays. Its kinda uncomfortable at first but its getting easier.

I've been hanging with people instead of isolating.

I've been helping people other than myself.

I'm humbling myself more often.

I'm listening to others.

I'm eating healthy and exercising.
(I'm starting to get a 'Look at me now, motherfuckers!' attitude though)

Pretty cool shit, actually.

Wanna hear the sick part? I'm not suicidal, haven't taken anti-depressants in about two months, I feel good and I like myself.

The sick part is that now that I find myself in a position to do stuff for others, I find myself thinking, 'Hey, maybe my sole purpose in this life was to help that person do that thing. Once my sole purpose has been accomplished, I can die.'

I'm not suicidal AT ALL. This thought is merely my OLD thought patterns making guest appearances on occasion. It'll take a while for those thoughts that I have had for a large portion of my life to stop peeking their heads into my head.

I'm glad I can recognize some things for what they truly are

I was told something this weekend that I had never heard before about myself. I didn't like hearing it but I'm trying to accept things nowadays. Acceptance has its benefits.

I have now learned another variable that has contributed to my past relationships not working. I NEVER FUCKING KNEW THIS, noone was honest enough to tell me. I wish it wasn't a factor that I need to be aware of. My self-esteem and confidence is all fucked up now. I'm re-evaluating my perceptions of others and myself.

I'm aggravated that I don't measure up to others that have been there before. There are things about myself that I can improve and there are things about myself that I can do NOTHING about.

I almost talked myself into using

It ain't worth it.

Acceptance, man, acceptance.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rInMQWpGpYg

so yeah i found out "clincian" aint no f'ing psychiatrist yesterday in terms of addiction services.
they probably think im some sort of inbred toss off from MH. "I don't think he's that messed up."

Oh how wrong they are...

That's not a direct quote, just a summary. Who knows what they think, if they think at all. The drones.

But yeah, for some reason I was browsing the internets in my messed up solitude of mental sedation, waiting for my ROE to fly by.

And came across the above song. Is it metal? Or just hard rock. It really is the best version. U2 is terrible, the Banshees one is lame. McCartney is pure awesome on the vocals.

Anyways, remember kids don't procrastinate on resumes unless you have a valid reason, like the inability to think.

science fiction is an existential metaphor. it allows us to tell stories about the human condition. issac asimov once said, "science fiction stories may seem as trivial as ever to the blinder critics and philosophers of today, but the core of science fiction; it's essence has become crucial to our salvation, that is, if we are to be saved at all."

thats all i got right now. i also just watch the star gate universe premiere, not sure if i liked it or not. i'll have to see how the plot develops..

Where have I bean? If you hadn't noticed, I've been a bit absent from Bluelight the last couple of weeks, but I should be finding more time to be around soon.

To start with, a few weeks ago I came off codeine. Up to then, and for a good year beforehand, I'd been taking it daily, usually in the evenings, with the effects lasting well into and through the next day. During December and January, while my dad was dying, I lived in a thick haze of opiated numbness. Numb to the feelings I was going through and unable to deal with the crisis and grief my family were experiencing.

When I heard my dad went to hospital on the evening of the 3rd of February, I told mum I would tell my uncles and aunties in Melbourne... right after I ate a handful of Panadeine Forte. I couldn't have survived the month of February without being completely stoned the whole time, or so I tell myself.

Seven months later, it's been like finding myself again, underneath the fog and haze. I've only now also realised that the codeine was a catalyst for a lot of the depression I'd experienced in the last year.

Waking up, the first thing I noticed was that there was something very wrong at work. My career had virtually died, and there I was: slaving away for a company on the verge of insolvency. It's taken me a few weeks to put all the pieces of the puzzle together, but what has been lied about and glossed over is now becoming glaringly obvious.

Today I found out my superannuation (equivalent to what Americans call a 401k) has not been paid for more than 1.5 years. My direct manager; an arrogant dick who everyone hates and has a penchant for compulsively lying, lacks any faith in me and my abilities. We barely talk and behind closed doors, I doubt he makes much effort to disguise his loathing for me as a person.

This is the man who, during January, when he knew what I was going through, would pull me aside for weekly meetings to try and determine why I was struggling to get into work by 9.30 every morning. He's the sort of person who'd probably not bat an eyelid at turning his back on his own parents if they were dying of lung cancer, blaming it on their "weakness" and stupidity.

Most of all though, the greatest revelation has been that I'm still here. Well most of me, and intact. After getting off codeine, one of the first things I did was put my resume together, so far I've already had two interviews and I'm expecting offers from both of them.

I've been applying for the sort of jobs I should be going for, asking for salaries I know I deserve, to do work I know I can handle; if I back myself and my abilities.

So yeah, it's fair to say things are a lot better. There's a lot of issues I haven't dealt with from the last couple of years... some I don't know how I'll ever be able to deal with, but for now, they're not things I can be bothered worrying about. I know how stupid this sounds, but I find that if I focus on the pursuit of money (!), not just with my current job but in other employment, I tend to notice that I'm too busy to worry about other unpleasant thoughts.

I'm not really sure how much of that last sentence was actually tongue-in-cheek.

Goal for this weekend:

To finish reading The Happiness Trap by Russ Harris, a book based on Acceptance and Commitment Therapy which I think is this season's CBT.

Thanks to madmick19 for recommending it... I got over the fact that I was reading a psychology/self-help book by convincing myself that I would learn telepathy and save on long-distance phone calls.

You know, it's funny what I realized today, I have yet to wear a short sleeve shirt to work because of the scars and scabs from recent injection sites along the veins in my upper arm. I hate it. I never realized but it must have just become routine to wear long sleeves to hide my habit from outsiders. My arms look like they have healed up a lot, but not enough. The scars are still pretty obvious from a distance which, even when the more recent ones scar I'd still be too scared someone would notice if I went in wearing something that didn't cover them.

Just a thought...

Everything you do affects everything and everyone around you. Spreading hatred and ill vibes hurts you just as much as it does others.

Judge not. And if you shall find judgment directed your way, say thank you!

*** copied from BL journal ***

I snorted one small line of H when i was 17 (20 years ago). Now, for some reason, i REALLY want to slam some.

There is no relevance to a 20 year old experience but i'm starting to think my addiction/addictive personality is progressing.

I'm a cokehead and never really tried the opiate experience. Maybe i'm not a cokehead and just a junkie that wants ANYTHING in his veins. Coke is real easy to get so i'm guessing that this is why i'm so into it (besides the enjoyment of the rush).

My mind keeps telling me that H would be so much better. It lasts longer, provides an intense euphoria and is cheaper.

I don't listen to the part that says that it is physically addicting and that i'm the kind of person that would fall into an even greater hell if i were to slam it.

The thing is, i know that i will seek it out and indulge very soon. Laziness and fear of cruising a strange city is holding me back. I'm not that invincible teenager anymore who walked the shady streets of Philly without fear. A couple of drinks of vodka typically energize and provide the mentality i once had as a teenager. Its only a matter of time until i intentionally get drunk for the purpose of finding this shit.

Successful acquisition of H will be the death of me. Most likely, if the first shot doesn't kill me then i will suffer years of humility and degradation until it does decide to be merciful and allow me to die.

Why don't i care?

"Once I wanted to be the greatest
No wind or water fall could STALL me
And then came the rush of the flood
The stars at night turned DEEP to dust"


I want to be allowed my days to feel that pushing on is too heavy......to be allowed to lay down and surrender to the overwhelming heartache I feel.........
But I will wake up tomorrow and pull up my boot straps and march on......
My life goes on...........

I feel so alone tonight, though I am not.
I wish you were here to wrap your arms around me and help me fall asleep or we would stay up all night making love to each other, either way we would be.

I feel so alone right now, and I miss you.