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I have been so excited for my family vacation (which I leave for on Tuesday).
I am seeing my parents for the first time in four years and my brother who I haven't seen in almost a year-My brother has been in Iraq the last nine months.I have had alot of anxiety over it......
He has sent me emails as often as he can and has told me about his life there.
Though (and I hear often) it is not as crazy over there as it once was- my brother is on recon missions that put him in harms way often....
He has written about alot of really hard things to know,for me, and I can't imagine living it......
His living conditions are appalling-
Anyway- I was very happy when he arrived back on US soil for his 2 week leave, 2 days ago.
His girlfriend called today and said they were out at some friends of hers house and drinking.....
I guess my brother was fine for a while and then she said he just lost it.
She said he started balling his eyes out in front of everyone (my brother VERY VERY RARELY cries)- then he tries to fight people and pushes his girlfriend and takes off down the road......
I guess he was trying to fight poles,shit in someones yard and was suicidal.
He feels like he is suffocating sometimes, thinks he needs to be watching everywhere for attacks or bombs-
I guess he was in a pretty bad situation a few weeks ago (and I can't imagine how bad b/c he has told me some pretty frightening stuff before this incident in which he just says was 'really really bad') and they required he to see a Psych in Iraq-
The psych I guess didn't think anything was wrong then and told him he needed to talk about how he is feeling.
I am really worried about how to move forward b/c when I called he was asleep but we talked a few minutes and he said he didn't want to see another psych (I suggested when we all get together he go onto a base and see someone).......
I know he is bothered by being in Iraq b/c he thinks the war was started for shit. But he feels it is his 'duty' and we can't just pull out......
Oh I am nervous.

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Well I am a noob at this I really don't know what I am doing but I have questions that I would like informed people to help me make some medical decisions.

I have taken an SSRI twice (the second time doesn't matter I wasn't on it long enough to know how it would effect my current state of depression....) But I took Paxil and I have a cutting issue and it made it worsen and I even got stitches because the cuts were so deep... They threw me in a psych-ward for like a week and switched me to prozec and fuck I took like four days worth and I said fuck that and I stopped it immediately, so I didn't know how it will effect me.... But now my doctor wants me to try Celexa... I don't know about it.
Can anyone tell me if you can climax on the SSRI, or is it with all SSRI's that you don't climax? 8)

So we did it again, in and out, with plausable deniablity. all fueled by amphetamine and black BDU sets.

its amazing what you can get done in 14 minutes, when your prepared to do what must be done.

anyone who wants more, can contact me privatly, and if i dont know ya, dont expect alot of info.

and to everyone who says modern conflict is sterile and done at range or via a comp op wpn system....lets just say My knife would disagree. there are times that require doing the nasty things face to face.

so dont join up expecting it wil only even be on a screen, cause its alot different when you feel the warmth of his blood soak your bdu's

fuckin I'm sore...I ran 8 miles, 56 minutes with 75lbs of gear and a gasmask....fuck yeah.

now for a short tactics lecture.

okay, one of the big things that SF units so good, is they seem to avoid ambushes, sentries, main formations, ect....how this is done?...generally, by finding the hardest, longest, most unpleasant route of getting somewhere, and taking it.

why?...people tend to be lazy. they like roads and firm ground, not mountians and bogs. they tend to avoid them, thus, they dont see us, as thats where we go. ideally, its nice and fucking hot, or cold and rainy...once more, that generally makes people avoid going out, giving us the chance to work unseen.

works for other stuff too...no one tends to expect your coming the hardest way possible.

Yesterday I realized that even though my friends are junkies, they care about me like family in a sense...but we're a junkie family...you know what I mean? Like, get this.

I had been thinking about getting another dub of black but my homie beat me to the punch and called me first asking if I could give him and his lady a ride into town. I wasn't doing anything important and was planning on copping anyway so I said I'd be there in 45min. When I picked them up they were both in a rather chipper mood making me laugh the whole way into town. After they made some money from selling some benzo's we wen't and copped some H and like we always do, we went into king soopers to get high after.

I didn't cook my whole shot, maybe about 3/4ths of it, but I could tell it was a little more then I was used to. While cooking my shot I was so excited that I spaced the two valium's that I took only an hour prior to shooting which led to my scary experience. After shooting I knew I did too much, not enough to overdose, but I coudln't even stand on both feet. I have cuts on my leg from falling in the parking lot afterword's trying to get to my car. I even ditched my rig in the dirt because I was so positive that a cop was going to see me and question me.

The moment my homies saw me they freaked out and knew I did too much. My skin had lost all color and I could barely talk. Then to my surprise...they took care of me. Getting me water, and sticking around to make sure I didn't sit still and go into a nod that I wouldn't ever wake up from. You know, I always thought of my junkie friends as the kind of people where if I came close to overdosing, they would just steal my dope and money and leave me in an alley. But after today, I realized I got love for them and they got love for me...while only these two for now.

i have a fear of people. its not so much groups of people, or interacting with random people. i do both fine. but as soon as i feel i let someone down, or they could be mad at me, i am unable to talk to them. like to the point that i have panic attacks when i think about confronting the person.

so, yet again, i fucked up in school. in part, it was because i fell behind on an assignment, and then proceed to skip the following classes to avoid confrontation with the professor. i dug myself a similar hole back in ungrad...

anyhow, i finally spoke to my professors (a few weeks after the quarter ended) and they were all willing to work with me. at this point, i am just raising my grades from incompletes to something resembling a passing grade.

so while school resolved itself (provided i finish my work), i still need to deal with my mental health. i've been going to the gym regularly, which is helping a little (4 times last week, and exercising at home everyday!). and schoolwise, i wrote out a schedule that i am doing a fairly good job of sticking to. but i still need something and i am unsure of what.

Really the forums only cause me pain. Angry words and personal attacks that leave me crying. Yeah, it's stupid but damn me for being so sensitive. If I could turn cold and hard I would in a second because I just can't bear the pain.

I get a lot of "just quit", guys, if it was that easy none of us would do drugs. I am in far deeper than I ever thought. I try to come to the only place I can share and be honest and not hide my secret life and it doesn't work. I get more of the above mentioned and those who I trusted and called my friends have asked me not to even speak to them. Really, it cuts me to the core.

Emotional pain for me is a physical ache in my chest. I wish I could explain. I can't blame everything on BPD (if wish people would take a moment to ACTUALLY understand it instead of thiniking they do) but I think that is wear is stems from.

Everything is spiraling downward annd I feel like I'm falling into a dark well scraping my bloody fingers and nails trying to get out. Only causing more pain, a pain I wish someone could understand rather than make fun of and laugh in my face as I fall broken to the floor.

I know this all can seem kinda dramatic, but honestly this is truely how I feel. Suicide is on my mine now that I am alone, What is the point of this pain? Maybe I'm just too fucked up and my life will always be full off it. I FEELso unwanted, aburden, a waste of space...maybe I should try to actually do it right this time

Really I'm pouring my pain, suffering and hopelessness out here...but I know it isn't going to do any good nor change the way ppl see me. They will dislike me all the same. But at least if I decide to leave all this behind, it won't be a surprise.

I missed it!!! I was sleeping still this morning , but a lot of my students in Korea saw it, as well as some of my friends here...%)

The solar eclipse of July 22, 2009 was the longest total solar eclipse of the 21st century, lasting as much as 6 minutes and 39 seconds in some places. It caused tourist interest in eastern China, Nepal and India.

The eclipse was part of Saros series 136, as was the record-setting solar eclipse of July 11, 1991. The next event from this series will be on August 2, 2027.[4] The exceptional duration was a result of the Moon being near perigee, with the apparent diameter of the Moon 8% larger than the Sun (magnitude 1.080) and the Earth being near aphelion[5] where the Sun appeared slightly smaller.

This was the second in the series of three eclipses in a month, with the lunar eclipse on July 7 and the lunar eclipse on August 6.

It was visible from a narrow corridor through northern Maldives, northern Pakistan and northern India, eastern Nepal, northern Bangladesh, Bhutan, northern Philippines, the northern tip of Myanmar, central China and the Pacific Ocean, including the Ryukyu Islands, Marshall Islands and Kiribati.

Click to expand...

As viewed from Quezon City, Philippines

As I read through threads filed under "The Dark Side," it is striking, the degree to which human beings -- drug users in particular, since we become so wrapped up in how we feel at any given moment -- manufacture agony for themselves, and expect to be regarded as suffering saints because of that agony.

I have a history of disordered eating and drug abuse, so my main example of this tendency is: me. I can be one melodramatic, woe-is-me, whining little bitch some of the time. Drugs aggravate this tendency immensely. Be the substances in question uppers or downers, legal or illegal, the common thread which ties all my drug use together is that of manufactured drama. I feel bad for an instant, so I take something. Or I feel good, but have an instant of wanting to feel better, so I take something (and end up feeling much, much worse).

An eating disorder is nothing if not manufactured drama. It injects a feeling of epic struggle into otherwise mundane activities. Rather than changing habits and activities so they are actually meaningful, an eating disorder -- or drug abuse -- or wallowing in depression -- allows a person to become absorbed in self-imposed misery and therefore stave off boredom.

Example: I spent yesterday smoking, napping, and eating. And the day before. Today, I am ten dollars poorer, and have nothing to show for those lost days, aside from feeling like I've been inflated to twice my ordinary size owing to the gigantic blobs of food slowly working their way through my digestive system.

The emotional pendulum of drugged living, like the feeble wallowing of depression, is all sound and fury, ultimately signifying nothing that will last beyond any given moment. The cure to depression is action. "But it's hard to act when you're depressed!" Damn straight -- I felt worthless and bloated this morning, felt like doing nothing at all. But I still forced myself to get onto the treadmill, and mere minutes into the workout I was feeling better, and now, about fifty minutes into it (I have my laptop rigged up onto my treadmill), I feel fucking amazing.

"But that's an illusion as much as a drugged feeling is! All you're doing is enjoying an endorphin high!" Absolutely true. And so what? People in a state of depression or anxiety tend -- or at least I tend -- to make that state out to be some kind of natural baseline. I think there is also a self-aggrandizing tendency to make sufferers of depression, anxiety, eating disorder, whatever out to be more intelligent, more noble, more perceptive, whatever, when in reality depression is just as much an illusion as an opiate or endorphin or any other kind of high. I prefer pleasant illusions to unpleasant ones. I'd prefer the truth over either set of illusions, but one thing drugs have been good for is revealing just how shaky any given set of assumptions is.

I think I was feeling some pain last night...withdrawal pain. Of course it was nothing compared to what I'm used to experiencing, but my legs did keep me awake most of the night, and i hate not being able to regulate a consistent temperature for more then 15 minutes. Even though I have been doing cotton shots today and yesterday, it still had been 48-72 hours since my last real dope shot, so I guess this would be the worst of the pain I'd experience unless I decided to use again, which for the most part is always on my mind.

On another topic...

I was going through old documents on my iPod, and came across a relapse scenario I had to submit the day of my graduation while I was in rehab. Reading it again makes me realize how much I was "in love" with this drug while I was in treatment. Here is a snippet of the two page paper:

...I opened the balloon with my teeth and took it out from the foil…I got a whiff of the faint smell of vinegar. My body trembled, I couldn’t wait. The surrounding people in the stalls and bathroom’s just added to rush of getting high, I took a small scoop of dope and poured it in the cooker with a little bit of water and heated it up. I dropped a cotton ball in and watched it suck up the dope just like how I would be in a few brief moments. I took the clean rig I had and stabbed it straight into the heart of the cotton, pulled back the plunger, and watched the syringe fill with a dark brown liquid.

By this point I couldn’t stop myself, I had no control over my hands, no control over my thoughts, this was how it had to be. I unstrapped the belt from my waist and tied up. I let my hand hang low so I could see which vein would be the best pick. For the first time in months…I actually had a choice for which vein I wanted. I pushed the needle in and felt it break the surface. It was time to register; I pulled back a little till a small air bubble filled the tip of the barrel. As I went deeper with the needle the bubble filled with blood. By this point I could barely contain the overwhelming feelings. I let go of the belt with my teeth and it spiraled around my bicep till it was a loose hold.

I took one deep breath and pushed the plunger down. I watched the barrel empty into my vein. By the time I pulled it out I could already feel my head spinning and legs going limp. I stumble to clean up but manage. I walk to the theater and meet Mama’s, the darkness provides the perfect cover…

Damn, just reading that makes me crave again, now I can see why everyone in treatment said they were "disturbed" after I read my paper.

If you want to read the whole paper, see my entry by clicking the following link.

http://www.bluelight.ru/vb/blog.php?b=1717

I have not been seasick for a good long while, as a landlubber its pretty hard to get sea sickness...

Unless your sinuses and eustachian (sp?) tubes are chocker blocker full off goo! Mine are and have been for about a week, and the constant urge to puke because the lack of balance is beyond nauseating.

I figure it will pass, as my lurgy does in time.

Until then, avast ye mateys, all aboard the ship o' gunk in my ears etc.

Gross.

Maybe a cigarette will help out!

arrgh me hates feeling sicky

If you are a guy, then you probably think you are a pervert who engages in self abuse too often. Do not let society tell you this, because girls are worse.

They think about sex constantly and inexplicably (or perhaps instinctually) love the way cocks look and love man cream. And they want it everywhere - most of them don't even care about having orgasms themselves, they just want to see and feel cocks spray sperm like fire hoses.

Case in point, I was eating at an Italian restaraunt last night and there was a new girl working there. While she was putting ranch dressing on my salad, she started going "mmmmm, look at that" as she squeezed it out. Then she actually said, "I just want it on my face." I am not bullshitting here. Girls are horny as hell, and that girl was only 19. As they grow older, it gets worse and they get more depraved.

So, the lesson here is that you are not a pervert. Girls are the perverts.

When I was about seven my father gave me two dollars
“What can I buy with two dollars I asked him?”
“A lot of things” he told me

I went to the store and saw nothing of interest
Two weeks later I met a girl named Lillie
After two days I had an idea

“Show me your breasts and I’ll give you two dollars” I said
And just like that
I saw two of the most beautiful breasts I had ever seen

My dad was right
Two dollars can buy you a lot of things

...at staying sober thing. I made it...I don't even think a day once I was back home. I went right out that night and got a dub of dope from my homie. I went into a local Taco Bell to kill the urge I've been having to get high in a public place. It was a fucking rush, I been loving the brown sugar dope compared to the black tar, plus the fact I've been clean so long made the high all that more perfect.

You know I realized this too, the funny thing with me and heroin too is it's always this "morning after" thing I have were I'm never sick till after I wake from a long nod (and am not physically dependent). When I got up the morning after doing my first shot of dope I was puking the whole drive to the dentist with my little cousin. But I have to admit that being recently free of heroin it makes the high all that much better. It was nice being able to go two days with no withdrawal pains. The only downfall, is that now I want to keep shooting because of how good it feels...not because the need anymore. Which at the rate I'm going won't be long before I become addicted again.

Of course I have only like $50 left because I spent $40 a the mall yesterday in an effort to keep me from buying drugs. However I can't say how effective that has been because even though now I'm more broke....I keep thinking about buying more junk. I should have just kept my money. Fuck man.

6 years past in the blink of my eye. Nothing you can say that wont be trite and shallow because the feeling is too deep for words. Writing words is like graffiti scribbled over a headstone, scratched into the granite, covering the real meaning. Chopped at the root, deep, where it means something, not at the surface where rings continue to grow, to ripple out as the years go on.stunted , a stopped clock, frozen moment in time. I want to stop the last scene in my mind liike a movie camera, let flower petals or snow flakes flutter down , want to know that this was it,last chance. make it beautiful. you never realize til its too late. zoom out and frame the last shot but the picture is already gone, how things can change in a minute.

the key to the puzzle is broken, you un learned the code, it dont make sense now. The scab already starting to form but there will always be a soft place underneath. days will go by and simplify everything. flatten it into a 2D photo still.

But nothing coulda been changed. some how time pushed you forward and you fell thru the little cracks that appeared as the days went on. you will never look back and smile. This is the pain that will keep somewhere, untouched, like the dead kitten you buried in your backyard in a tupperware dish when it didnt survive, cried and tried to forget where you placed it in the ground. Youll push it back and avoid it all you can praying that youll never be alone long enough to let it catch up to you. sometimes in your mind you will travel back to the private sorrow and sink into it for a while.....

your mind plays tricks,the past and reality overlap too much. you want it to be behind you, something solid and definite like a black and white picture in a photo album, how the kitchen at your grandmothers house is different now, and theres a fridge there and the table is on the other side of the room, and now that one wall is the back door and theres a new oven. Changed. you wouldnt have to get that quick sad feeling if everything was to go back to 1970s color schemes and all the old appliances were still there and you could almost go back in time if you imagined just right. Its different enough that theres no risk of involuntary mental time travel.

but when it stays the same, when the same bench is there, the same bar you went to and the same chair outside on the porch its too close. you cant move on because how can the two lives exist on top of each other? you dont want to forget about the old, go over it like your old cassette tapes from childhood that ended up with songs from the radio recorded over. still there, but the original content is gone.

you wrestle with this shit for a while and finally say fuck it. you stop the sentimental bullshit and the thoughts about anything,really. You harden up, go thru life half assed just like the rest of everybody else does, god only knows the things that made them exist in shades of gray but everybody got em, crushed dream, unrequited love, dead child, father,mother, wife....lost the job, house foreclosed, sexually abused, suicidal. they all got somethin, everybody does. A lifetime of that and you kind of happily give in to the monotony and its almost a relieif that you know this is all there is. The melodramatic pictures you painted in your mind are like cheap landscapes from sears hanging in a double wide or a rent by the hour motel room with burn holes all over the bedspreads. You let them drift away from you and a dull discomfort is the worst emotion you allow yourself to indulge in.

You find yourself alone on a saturday night with a bottle of 151 and a couple bundles of heroin, cigarette burning out in the ashtray, just you and the things you can count on, and do the thing you know how to do best. and every night, right when that shot hits home and you see the stars, in the long second before it goes dark you can almost see the image of love on the back of your eyelids, the only place it still lives.





Why did you go?
Why did you turn
away from me?

When all the world
seemed to sing
Why, why did you go?

Was it me?
Was it you?
Questions in a world of blue

How can a heart
that's filled with love
Start to cry?

When all the world
seemed so right
How, how can love die?

Was it me?
Was it you?
Questions in a world of blue

When did the day
with all it's light
turn into night?

When all the world
seemed to sing
Why, why did you go?

Was it me?
Was it you?
Questions in a world of blue
Questions in a world of blue

I was addicted to DXM a long time ago, I went through 40 grams in about 6 or 8 months.... I did some retarded shit during that time....

I also did a lot of Dust-Off. I wrecked a car on it actually, drove across a very wide grass median while passed out on it and woke up in oncoming traffic. Coulda died, got lucky.

My father is a deadbeat, stopped coming around when I was 15-ish (srsly, I don't mind, fire away with this one)

When I was 17 I got kicked out of my moms house and had to live with a friend for a year or so. Some nights I got too high to make my own "nest" on the floor so I passed out in his bed and he never gave a shit, so he passed out next to me. (it was a queensize bed, but still, two guys in the same bed, thats roast material)

LOL once when I was a skateboarder I tried to ollie down a set of like 12 steps, but failed miserably, ended up faceplanting and sliding down about 4 of the 12 steps on it. I told people I got jumped to sound like less of an idiot.

I dunno thats all I can remember as far as dumb shit I've done, so do with it what you will.

I'll probably baleet this after the roast so use it or lose it.

Yet another blog because I have no idea what to do anymore. I must be fucking retarded. It seems no matter what I do on BL I upset some one or get yelled at. When people gets upset often they attack and make cutting comments and hurt me. Also being scolded by a mod makes me feel pretty horrible too. Makes me feel like I'm a bad person deserving of punishment.
It shouldn't be the mods job to follow my stupid ass around making sure I don't piss people off with my stupid shit. At this point I'm wondering why I even bother. I mean sure BL is the only place I can come, and be honest about my life. I don't have to hide the drug use, cutting, depression and everything else behind a fake smile. But I'm pretty worthless here.
Really if a mod asked me to leave I would. Actually at times I feel like I'm just waiting for a ban. I've already been "banned" from certain threads due to the fact that I'm just retarded.

All this keeps pushing and pushing on how shitty I already feel. I just feel like I should kill myself because I'm no use to anyone anymore apparently. Fuck even the dark side finds me fucking useless...

Well here is a lil ramble about how things are that I had sent to someone. I hadn't planned on a blog but here is a lil something for anyone that MIGHT care (haha).

Honestly,
I think I'm already beyond hope. If I could find meth last night I would have put a needle in my arm. I woke up today and didn't realise that I had classes, I didn't go. I got totally drunk and psychotic and drunk last night. Screaming, laying on my friend's bathroom floor cutting and bleeding, going and laying out in the middle of the street so that someone would hit me and it would all be over. He threatened to call the cops so I got up and passed out.
I wasn't in my right mind. I have no idea about what came over me. Everclear is bad I guess. Funny thing is, he is still my friend, even after I tried to paint his walls with blood.


As for Sean, with drugs being more important, Sean may be gone due to thte fact that he feels I don't care or he isn't important enough. He doesn't know about the meth and if he did, I'd be alone in a heartbeat. Right now we are on a "break" because of this. I don't know if he will ever make it work. I actually had a friend tell me the other day that he just didn't see it working with us. That just KILL me, cause before all this Sean had seen us getting our own place together. There is a WHOLE lot of other issues in there and I don't even want to talk about. Sean has never said he loved me, but when it came up, he said he did the other night but I was too blacked out to remember.

I play a lot like everything if fine, but its not. I'm falling apart. I can't stand to be alive and be sober. If I don't have drugs that all I think about and thats all I want. I have even been thinking of ways of getting money, since I have none, to get money for drugs...what can I sell, what can I steal. I draw the line at selling myself (not that anyone would want me anyway) but I just can't do that to Sean. No one has money around here and I've lost the one contact that did and would get me high sometimes. I'm suicidal...and I have no one to turn to. I have so many issues going on and everyone is in the dark and want it to be that way! I want to be remembered and seen as the good sweet girl that people seem to think I am. Its my secret... Now I feel I can't even share here, because of this, because there are so many issues involved, because I fear I will be attacked and it will be worse, I fear that I will hurt others. But I don't want to blame BL for my problems or whatever. I can't even communicate normally ONLINE I guess...

So here I am alone, with the world caving in around me ..idk at the least I got some of this out .Really I'm just a ghost like creature here I'm invisible until I get to someone without knowing it..and then I am a horrible demon...
Eh I'm filled with such worthlessness and self-hatred...what is even the point.?

This is the only place I can open up about how things really are. No fake smiles, no lies and denial.

I am depressed. It clicked the other day that I was depressed. I don't know if the meth and other drugs were replacing the meds so I didn't have the crazy mood cycles I do sometimes. Now I've had to go 2 nights without any meth. Popping my pills and smoking some weed to try to quiet the monster a little bit. I dunno, sometimes my friends eel bad enough for me that they share their drugs with me. Well not many people want to do drugs alone but they also see me in pain or just care for me so they share. I feel bad about it though. I don't want our friendship to be based on that! No now my friend and I are both broke. I was gonna spend the money I don't even have to spend,but we can't find any! He says that we are "waiting on the next shippment". Uh! I'm so frustrated.

Perhaps Sean had been keeping me happy too. Now I'm not even hearing from him. We are on a break. I really let him down and he said that he just couldn't take not being able to depend on me anymore and he couldn't take the fighting. IDK He said he does want to be with me though. He does care enough about me that he could see us moving in together but right now things are just getting worse. I pray it works out.

Right now, I just don't care about anything anymore. I don't feel motivated to go and find a job that is going to gives me more hours other than I need more money to spend on drugs. I'm not motivated to go to school or clean and do the chores.

It seems like I have to be high on something ALL the time. My brain is always saying, meth, meth, meth (I don't have any physical signs of addiction like my friend does sometimes) but I'll take any drug. I don't remember the last time I was sober. I just don't see the point. I hate my life. I hate me. Even when I'm high, why would I want to feel like that, feeling it more, sober?

I have no idea where my life is going or what has become of me. There used to be a happy person in there somewhere. Who was content with her life, had a job that she was ok with, happy with her movement upwards in college and in a wonderful healthy relationship.
*Sigh*
I really need to start taking my meds again.
Right now I feel so alone that I go grab my kitty and have him sleep by me when I'm home because I can pet him and I don't feel so alone. That's really pathetic. I might as well be the cat lady or something.
oh and it doesn't help that with all the issues going on I turned my arm into a meat jigsaw puzzle. Fuck, now I have to hide that during the summer! I know customers saw it at work cause my shirt didn't always cover it when I moved.
It's sad how it is seen. THey automatically assume that you're crazy or emo or want attention. Not that you are in pain and have a desire to let out that pain and have comfort.

I guess if anyone reads this I'd value a comment. It's really had for me to have a logical view on things, I think that is even more true now.

P.S. Yes, I know I should have listened. I'm stupid. That is nothing new to me.

deleted

Feelin good in the neighborhood. I love the world

This is nice. I had forgotten how pleasant the simple things can be. Its Sunday, I don't work today and I'm broke.

I DO have a case of Fosters in the fridge and was able to get some chinese food (which hit the spot).

Since I don't have any loot, I'm not high today. I can tell my dog is enjoying the time we are spending together (besides the white rice I shared with him).

Ya see, typically:
1) I go to work
2) get paid
3) go to the city for my shit
4) come home
5) shoot my shit
6) fuck around online
7) eventually sleep
8) wake up in enough time to go to work
9) Repeat

I'm realizing that I haven't spent quality time with my boy. Today is different. I'm not high (startin' to get a buzz from the beer though)

So far, me and the 11 year old puppy have gone on our walk, played with (ok, bear with the names of his toys) his Big Furry Tail Toy, his Big Furry Bone Toy, His Big Tennis ball Toy and his Trio Toy.

His Trio Toy is his favorite. Its a rope tied up into a knot that forms a ball. We call it the Trio Toy because its three of his favorite things all in one, a ball, a rope and a knot!

Its nice to have innocent fun. When I get high it isn't fun. Its something I NEED to do in order to not deal with the person I am (who I am not very fond of).

This is innocence. Seeing my boy happy and playing makes me feel all goofy inside. He's fuckin' awesome!

Well, for those not familiar with my Shaman here's a pic:


(this was taken when I was doing well in Colorado)