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I am happy today, super super kawaii happy. It won't pay a billion dollars but I will be able to pay down my credit cards and survive a recession that devastated me financially last year to the point of virtual submission, a statement which probably carries all the wrong connotations when being viewed from the perspective of Jamshyd if he's reading this =D.

But yeah, I got the call this morning and have had a patch on since yesterday (nicotine patch, of course....... ;)) to numb me to whatever the result of the interview would be for a few days. And sure enough, when I got the call this morning I arched my back and just started smiling and stretching out my whole body like it's the first time I've ever been alive. It seriously feels so good to know that I will survive on my own when I was gradually turning into a dependent with a massive self-medication problem, which would probably turn me into a gigantic sack of shit if I didn't start becoming self-sufficient in a way other than shifting money around from here to there in an attempt to empty water out of a sinking ship.

I just need to put everything into it, starting today even though it's only paperwork that needs to be taken care of right now. Today is the first day in a while where I'm not going to feel bad about enjoying a day full of video games.
http://www.natvan.com/adv/2005/07-02-05.html

lol some white power site talking about a rainbow gathering from a few years ago. LOTS OF LAUGHS!
is probably the most satisfying and frustrating thing i know of :) (to draw and look at)
I find baiting contenders are but mere pretenders that rarely tend to be tender.
Although disheartening, it serves to lighten the search for empathetic digg duggers outside the boundaries of a well lined tunnel of infinite contradiction.
These include, any and every being flying past the bird's of prey, into closer beacons of a genuinely glowing acknowledgement to realities that may not be understood by some, but estimated by many.
Direct assertiveness walks faster than it runs, in any direction.
Answer me in the forums if your collective is clear.

Edited for: Spaces Between
_________________
|| Life's definition lives through refinement. ||
Man before I get into that topic, I am happy to say that I have a serious interview for a serious business job in about 9 hours. This will mark the six month or so I've been unemployed as hell, and goddammit this job is coming not a minute too soon. I have about enough money for another month and then I would really have to declare bankruptcy (like really, as in I should have declared it last May. I checked out my tax return, which cost like a billion dollars to prepare because of all the options trades, and my total capital losses were much more than I expected. I thought it was only 25,000 but it was actually 35,000. Bad news bears. Good news is that I'm not going to pay a lot of taxes for 09 unless I get really good at my job really fast. I really just need like 20k in the bank to feel secure after what I've been through. I was on the verge of committing suicide every day with a real live shotgun for a while there, and I just recently started talking to my friends again after a four month period of being basically catatonic and worthless, and they're being really cool and understand that I was super depressed and all of that good stuff.

Anyways, I didn't know what to do with myself for a while there so I started working toward completing the hours necessary to become a CPA and was recruited by the IRS for some really great job but I just couldn't do it. It was an expensive lesson but I figured out that I may not be too stupid to be an accountant, but I really just don't give a flying shit about the subject, and if there is something interesting then I'll get my accountant to tell me about it when it comes up. It's great they can feed all of that information into the information chain. Without them man I guess the world would fall apart, and I have a lot of respect for them and can speak their language but the subject has a habit of turning my brain completely catatonic. I hate fucking around with SQL, I hate fucking around with building any sort of database. I just want to use the damn things, not buy them wedding rings and have kids with them. To each his/her own I guess.

So I continued along the path this semester, and I didn't go to class, failed more than anyone has failed before because I didn't even open the books, and didn't even try to drop the classes after scoring 20% on all my tests just by eenie meenie minie moeing my exams, and didn't even bother showing up to the final or justifying any of it to the professors or even to myself. Fuck accounting, end of story. Lessons cost money, and I still have transcripts that show I can be good at it but no one will ever see this semesters grades. If they ask I'll just tell them the truth - fuck accounting, fire me. Why would I get another masters just to kill time. That is so pussy, and I just couldn't do it. All it would do is overqualify me for every entry level position in the world, and once the economy swings back I'll be hanging around a bunch of people at work that I would like to see impaled on a really long query or smashed by a giant box of audit data that for some reason wasn't imaged. But I really like them. I always got along with accountants, science guys, architects, and otherwise obsessive and happy people the best.

Lawyers are great to do coke with, but their family lives are seriously fucked. There's this one in Houston who has made all kinds of case law and is captain awesome according to Saudi Royals (who dual wield planes into the twin towers) and newspapers around the world but godammit he has seven kids and has had 5 wives. He is always sweating like he could never figure out the mixture of cocaine and liquor that is not destined to make his heart stop one day. I like him just fine, but Jesus Christ it's like he needs to visit the make-up room every time he goes anywhere. I just hope he doesn't go and die on me because he's full of useful beans and I've got at least one finger one of his pies.

I can't really judge. No one takes more pills than me, true story. I switched up the order of consumption one day and went to a taqueria afterward. For about an hour after that I seriously thought I was having a heart attack. All I ate was a milanesa torta and a chicharron taco, for christ sake. I look great on the outside, but there is definitely something wrong on the inside just like that lawyer who I will probably never really know, as in really, really know. Some people keep it locked up their whole lives, but the proof is in the pudding since you have to interact with other people. He spreads a large amount of professional and political win, but it doesn't take a microscope to see that he's miserable as fuck and his family probably is too.'

Longest post ever, brought to you by the guy who is going to put on a suit tomorrow and walk into an office and literally have a gameplan that involves nothing more than playing politics until I max out my money and secretly get people ahead of me fired or demoted like the company is a video game. And yeah it's just a first interview but it's the same chick that interviewed me before a year ago when I turned the job down. We'll most certainly end up having sex in her office, as is evidenced by the fact that I accepted her job offer a year ago and didn't show up to my first day at work because I hedged my bets and actually started working for another company that same day. And she still calls me lol, the day after I run into her, for an interview. I'm staying up all night tonight and I'm going to be James Bond wasted during the interview and still get the job. Jesus it will be nice to have some money again.
i have waited till the last possible minute to finish an assignment and now i am regretting it. when will i ever learn to do things a little bit at a time?
Today was a strange day, as my days go. It all begun so promisingly and went south so quickly.

Life lately has been like that for me. It seems a little bit strange and disconnected. I'm living in this twilight in a corner of London and nothing is a reality to me.

I lacked a routine for maybe five years, but the past nine or ten months are abysmal. Apart from leaving the country on various trips, I have barely interacted with any people other than my housemates,blow-ins and various shopkeepers, mechanics, hookers, dealers and postmen.


I've been drinking a truly inspiring amount of alcohol, upward of 80 units a week consistently, sometimes way more. I smoked about three grams of skunk per day,every day.

My phone is old, and it no longer makes any kind of sound to indicate a call or a message, so I generally pick up calls after the fact. I switch it off a lot too. I don't answer e-mails on time, if I answer.

This is no good. This isn't my life.

I shall not become a skinny forty-something booze-hound with burst veins up and down my bastard nose, letching after young women and nursing my fucking sense of angst. Fuck that for a laugh.

This is no sudden revelation though. Been here before. This fucking town, these fucking people, so many of these people. Millions upon millions upon millions all screaming and wailing for their cut, their share, for their story to be told somewhere, sometime.

I cannot live in London a sober man. I've been away frequently this year, and last. I have travelled to a good many of the Western European countries for weeks here and weeks there. Took weed with me, had money. Guess what? I had one or none almost every night I was out of town.

So I stopped, I'm not drinking, as of nine days back. Been exercising and eating well. Mood is volatile as hell. Veer between feeling volatile as hell and fragile as eggshell. Still anti-social as fuck. Though that's probably the weed.

Smoked the last of it at 3am. The Final Joint. Shit, how many times have I said that in my lifetime?, 4pm this evening two friends and I went and bought more.

Just on the way, a man drove his car into the right rear wheel of mine as I was making a right turn. I have fat rims on the back, so my car was not damaged, but his bumper was ripped open.

As my car was undamaged and he was in the wrong,I was letting it go, but the fucker wanted details of my insurance company. I smelt a scam and said that we better call the police. Then he got in his car and sped off around the block, so my friend walked after him and we drove the other way.

Then it got stranger as a bunch of Somalian (pirates??) attacked the two guys who had been in my car as they walked past the same car parked outside a shop. They only threw one, and my friends didn't throw back, to their benefit I guess.

Then car guy and another guy and his nephews showed up to where I was, blissfully unaware, in my car around the corner. It was cool after that though. We established that liability was not mine and everybody backed off with dignity intact.

Following that incident I came home and proceeded to get high as fuck. But this is definitely my last bag of weed O.K?

=D
i took the amtrak from GR down to chicago this morning and picked up my jeep from my little brother. he wasn't really excited to give it up but whatever lol.

i found a figure drawing group that meets every thursday starting next thursday, which is exciting. my adviser said she could probably get it set up where i could sort of audit an adjunct prof.'s entry level figure drawing course for the summer semester, but i thought that might be a little too much.

i didn't want to step on anyone's toes / feel like i was intruding with that course, or feel like i was being rude if i didn't make it at the 8.30 start time / stay for the whole 8.30 - 4.00 studio time so i'll stick with just the weekly pay sessions.

meanwhile, trying to ramp up my time actually spent drawing. i took my computer off the table and put it on a small end table in my room so i would have to crouch and be uncomfortable on the floor if wanted to waste time on the internet. yeah so now my back hurts lol.

i really would like to open illustrator up and get back into that, but man i got all this space to spread out and work traditionally which i didn't have like 2 weeks ago.
Those many sit 'round

jumpin' for an opportunity

they pray on the moments of travesty


a character smudge

a false glimmer

hoping to be a critic

and release owned impersona.. wanna. respected.

You Own Me

or at least you think you do

being the best is what it is..

being better than ever

and any who wonder

a stray

=== are dead to you?

pompous fucker

You think You Own Me.

At least I walk out of a broken mold, special design, flavor

- ill words is weakened power.

I may strum a strange beat... with a foreign guitar and freakin' sick vibes unwind from these dainty finger lips.

I untie the uni-verses secrets from a shimmer in my eye... You think you are able to try..

And match my pride..

Forget it, cuz its only a lie.. my pride isnt alive, nor a bounty..

Truth be told, a soul is free, a soul is will, a will is faith,

and faith is all I have to say.
I was dreading having to feel like shit after I woke up, specifically this chronic fatigue even after 8 hrs sleep. I took my supplements, the magnesium, potassium, and the taurine yesterday and today. They seemed to have helped cause I don't feel quite so draggy, thank Christ. I got some dirty IMs from Brendan, which was nice, but actually, I've been able to "recatagorize" him so I don't end up getting hurt like last time. I even had a talk with my Mom about it. He's a sex addict and I certainly understand what it's like to be a different kind of addict, so I don't judge, but I notice how almost all of his messages are on the sex wavelength, well sex and romance.

I love both with the right partner, but I'm wanted for him as a sort of fix, I think. It's all good, so long as I know what's going on. Anyway, just kind of kickin back before work. Want to enjoy the time I have left. Peace out.
But nobody's going to like it. I decided to get back on adderall, until the summer when I will re-evaluate. This time, some ground rules: 10mg once or twice a day only, no staying up at night or for two days a time, no "cramming" types of studying, no alcohol or any other drugs (excepting a couple psychedelic experiences in the summer, possibly)... and also taking vitamins and eating regular meals and getting regular sleep every day. No exceptions. If I end up abusing it again, I'll have to tell my psychiatrist and get him to take me off prescription (I could still buy from friends, but that would be way too expensive and basically wouldn't work for more than a few days out of a month).

I have an immense amount of pressure coming at me, and there's nothing that I'm able to cut out of my life without serious consequences to my future and well-being. Holing myself up in my house and never seeing friends could give me more time to get work done, sure... but I'm human and I need a lot of human contact. Giving up school could be an option, maybe, but then I would lose the connections and opportunities that I have there. Giving up event coordination work would deprive me of valuable experience to my career. So I'm not going to cut out anything, I'm just going to try and work smarter.

And stop sleeping so god damn much - what human needs 15 hours of sleep a day? There's something wrong with that, it's not natural. Now I'm aiming for eight hours a night, twelve hours once or twice a week. I cut out gluten from my diet too - I'm doing that for a couple weeks to test whether I'm gluten-intolerant. That was suggested to me, and I'm taking the advice because I've heard that gluten-intolerance causes a lot of the symptoms that I'm talking about (large amounts of fatigue, depression, also headaches and dizziness which I get sometimes)... and it can also become more severe after the teen years. I did this test as a teenager but couldn't figure out if anything was different, but I'll try it again this time. I know I do feel a lot better when I eat things like eggs, fish, meat, and vegetables as opposed to pizza and bagels.
If the gluten-free test doesn't come up with any results then I will see a nurse at PSU and ask them about options for figuring out where all the fatigue and such comes from.

I hope my decisions will work out. I am really trying to do what is best for myself, trying to take care of myself while shouldering immense responsibilities - a lot of which have to do with business decisions, my reputation as a businessperson, my personal reputation as a reliable person and a person with good values. Not to mention that I have a whole planet to save, and NO ONE can change my mind on that.
I had a quiet long weekend, it was necessary.

Tomorrow I'm going to get hold of my psychologist again, make an appointment and get whatever is in my head out. I've been feeling too trapped. New job is good, but I guess it takes a good environment where you can realise that you aren't doing what you are supposed to be doing. I feel like I have done work, I don't feel like I am achieving.

I've realised something else. Where all our confusion comes from. Its when we grow, when we learn to learn more. When we understand a little more of the world. When our circle around us grows just a little bigger. We see a little further into the dark.

Its then we realise that things aren't always ok. There's pain and sadness, there's false promises and just generally shitty people, like us. We not only see a little bit more wrong, we see a little more wrong in us.

Then we take time to understand, and settle, and everything becomes ok, yet eventually we grow and the process repeats again. It just hurts like hell, you know?

Is there ever really any way to prepare for this?
I am building a cob cat house so that the process of building with it is demystified a little. It is coming along well; the process is very intuitive. As the author of one book on the subject put it, the knowledge is ingrained into our DNA, more or less.

http://www.rainforestinfo.org.au/good_wood/cob.htm#anchor182779

So that I can avoid building restrictions, taxes, and permits, I'll be building 200 square foot buildings, adding separated nodes as time goes on.

Was looking for land in San Luis valley up in Colorado, but the climate is too extreme. Now looking in southern oregon/northern california. Of course, my friend and I are nowhere near being able to pay for it. How hard will it be to save 5 thousand dollars?

----

There were firetrucks and hazmat units in the local park's parking lot, directly in front of children and their parents at the playground. Their crew of 10 or 12 people were gathered around a single park bench. We are being conditioned so thoroughly that the need for real independent journalism is becoming an emergency. I suggest we all get a video camera as soon as possible.

----

I have crossed some lines so far that there's no way to go back. No one there to welcome me, should I decide turn back. And why should they be? I left them so long ago, standing there with empty arms and unanswered questions. What self respecting person would still be there after I've been so ungrateful?

I hope I have learned something about that.
this summer is either going to be totally alcoholic or totally neurotic.

i drew for only like 3 hours today, some figure compositions or hybrids like i described in my last blog.

then tonight, i went to this coffee shop that you could smoke in (i didn't know you could smoke anywhere inside in america anymore :\), worked on a couple cartoony abstract doodles from the notebook.

i wondered one block over to this blues bar that was basically everything that's the worst of middle america. the plus side was this pretty attractive dreadlocked waitress was working there; i was sort of [desperately] hoping she'd fill me in on where the hippies were partying tonight, but alas, i just listened to the band that was playing at "billy's."

the band was actually decent. the whole time, i couldn't watch all the strip mall / suburban attendees at the bar dancing / getting drunk without thinking formally -- that is, the whole time i was there, i couldn't see any person without 'deconstructing' their figure / anatomy / contours / gesture. ... i'm seeing in my own personal art vocabulary again.

this kind of visual-isation of the world is where things have the potential to get very weird or very interesting. i'm using ' weird' pejoratively here --- i'm not really interested in things getting that kind of weird but i should probably prepare myself for them.

i can't venture out 'into the world' [ my apartment / my block / my neighborhood ] these past few days without breaking things down formally and spacially, without considering one or two or three point perspective. the worst thing about seeing the world like this is the sort of meloncholic realization that i can't actually record it all --- i can't really get everything down visually that i am seeing.

this sort of falling short of what i see to what i do is because i'm lazy i guess. if i was really freaking committed here i'd be drawing eight to ten hours a day, instead of only three or four hours. i suppose i need to decide if i want to seriously do this, or if i want to half ass it. hrmmm
So I went to the NA meeting Fri night. My friends there are not going to give up on me. I was shocked to see my sponsor there and fuck all, I know someday I'm going to have to tell her that I relapsed on more than just Tramadol. Sigh. That's what started the whole damn thing, this relapse on REAL drugs. I love the way the make me feel when I'm high, but fuck me dealing with W/D's is a bitch. I stepped on Mom's scale early yesterday and was shocked at what I saw. I'm actually down to 199 lbs, a weight that I haven't seen in a long time. If I listen to my on line friends and all the people at the dope house, in spite of my extra lbs, according to them I carry it well. I'm glad for that. I'm glad too that the self body hatred has just gone. This is how I am, so I deal.

I'd LOVE to lose more weight, but after being and fighting 240 lbs for almost 2 years, I'm grateful to be at THIS weight, although, sad to say I can't really give credit to anything but the dope. On Tues-Thurs I have to FORCE myself to nibble on small crackers I have by the bed, but other than that, I have nothing but water and grapefruit juice. I'm trying to keep my mindset on eating only small amounts once or twice a day once the meth has worn off. I'm in trouble though, fuck. I cannot afford to go on this chem roller coaster. Sigh. And if I just stop everything, then I'm stuck with W/D's.

I felt good Thursday, did well at work. I felt good Friday, but felt the fatigue finally from no meth. I came home and went to sleep for 8 hrs and woke up tired. Sigh. Here we go again with this damn chronic fatigue. I did the last tiny bit of speed I had. I knew it wasn't enough to get high, but it would be enough to take the fatigue away, which it did. Still, I felt anxious, so I took 3 painkillers with grapefruit juice. I'm off and running again, I've officially been a practicing junkie since the end of March, the night I tried taking X in a vain attempt to help me through the Tramadol W/D's.

I feel the painkillers, they put me on an even level, but this is what I mean when I say I don't want to have to juggle this chem roller coaster full time, which is what this has turned into. Someone just shoot me and put me out of my misery.

After I got home early Wed morning, I've stayed inside either writing, surfing, or watching TV and talking to Brendan. It's been a lovely time off. Now I'm hoping like hell my Rx will have been approved and ready by now. Please, God. Big sigh of relief. I just called the pharmacy and yes they have my pills. I finished my bag early this morning, well most of it. I'm saving one small bit so I can get up Tuesday and get motivated. I buy small amounts of the shit only, but by the time the meth is out of my system then the opiate W/D's will return, so I would much rather take the fiorinal #3 than the tramadol. If nothing else, the kick is not quite as bad off them than it is getting off Tramadol, which is weird, but true.

I enjoyed talking to Brendan as always, but for some reason even with a little meth in my system when we were discussing sex and he asked what else I wanted, I literally fucking froze. I felt overcome with shame and I just couldn't tell him. So he asked me, "When I come to see him will I be shy?," "I don't want to be," I said. "I just want to say what it is I want, then do it" (or not if he's not into it.) The weird thing is that I know that he would not turn down my request, he'll do anything I want, well at least if it's just me and him. I've always preferred one on one sex personally. I've tried 3 ways a few different times, and yeah they were fun for something different, but it's NOT the kind of sex I'd want all the time.

Still, I know it's been 8 yrs since I had any REAL sex, after Brendan, there have been a couple of duds. The only real pleasure I got was for the fact I was I did love the guys I slept with. So why is it then that when discussing the possibility of good or great sex with a straight man that really wants me and that does NOT have a problem with limp noodle, all of a sudden I freeze up and decide there are just certain subjects that are tabboo and cannot be discussed? That's sad. I felt too ashamed to tell him, so I told myself, maybe I shouldn't be having sex. Part of it is the fact that I've been celebate for so long and became accustomed to no sex drive for quite a few years.

Then all of a sudden I talk to an ex lover one night on X and get all hot and bothered. A lot of it is him, because he knows how to turn me on. I guess I'll have plenty of time to figure this out, as I won't be seeing him any time soon, but why can't I just fucking can the inhibitions? The biggest problem is fear of how the other person might perceive me, but damn I know he wouldn't think anything bad of me, so the problem is strictly with me. I need to mellow the fuck out. Interestingly enough, one night I asked him out of all the women he'd been to bed with, are they generally good lovers or not? He said that most women are caught up in performance anxiety more than anything and therefore only a small percentage can really relax and enjoy sex.

Whoa, is he psychic or what? I thought. He blew me away because he just described me to a T, and I hate to admit that , but it's true. I did enjoy myself with him, but I was sober when we were together, and therefore a bit shy. "Was I too shy for you?," I asked him. "You were a little shy, but beautiful." I thought about maybe taking some X with me to Ireland, take a couple pills, THAT ought to do the trick. From the one time I did try X, I can see how it would be called the love drug. I told 4 people either on line or on the phone that night that I loved them. And, while that is so very true, that is completely out of character for me, so yeah no wonder I connected with him so well that night because I just said whatever was on my mind, things that are good anyway.

So, now I'm gonna head over to the pharmacy, come home, shower, get ready for work. I wrote about the week I spent in Dublin, well most of it anyway from 8 yrs ago if you wanna read the history of this story below.
My profile picture really is offensive. LOL.

I am sitting here, drinking some rose (add thingie above e) wine from a local winery and it's tasty.

i am going to be 28 in less than a month. aside from the wine tonight (which i am consuming b/c i haven't had 8 solid hours of sleep in a week) i have been ms. health. working out and eating soooooo good because i'm on a mission to lose 10 pounds by my birthday.

i think i have cancer. i keep having night sweats for some odd reason. i hope it is a good death.
28 April 2009

Today I went to my first yoga class in a few weeks. Due to all kinds of crap, I had fallen off the exercise waggon and was feeling pretty lousy as a result. It was tough to get there, as I've been busy as hell at work lately, but I dragged myself in, and overall I'd say that it was worth it.

But by the end I did feel like a total lummox. Now, I'm a pretty big guy, so some of the poses can be a bit tricky for me. It just seemed like no matter what I did I was drawing unwanted attention to myself. Knocking over a wooden block during a 'quiet' transition, getting tangled in a strap, grimacing during a particularly tough pose, and just generally feeling like I'm taking up WAY too much space.

I know that I shouldn't worry about stuff like that. I don't judge others at yoga, and chances are they aren't judging me. I just need to learn how to shut off the self-critical part of my mind.. just as easy as that right 8).

Oh, and it didn't help that I forgot to clean my mat. I have the sticky type of mat, so any tiny bit of dust stays and really shows. Ick.

But I'm feeling well rested this morning, and hoping for a less stressful day. Here's hoping!
well i hit up that show tonight; the bands were really legit, actually, and the place was filled with hippies.

i tried to meet some people / make acquaitences, but man, i don't know how to do it. who wants to meet some guy in a bar? it would be possible, i guess, to meet women, but i'm so totally, absolutely in love with one already (who doesn't live in grand rapids).

the whole night was kind of bittersweet. i wanted to be social, enjoy the music , etc.....but i'm so crazy sickly in love with this girl too....

bllahh........tomorrow should be fun :p
Today is Friday, April 17th, 2009 and it is now exactly 3 PM here in the Philippines.

Those couple of people who used t read mu Journal might remember a day in 2007 when I told about how Dad swore up and down he had seen a small croc swimming in the creek beside our compound...and perhaps also remember how Mom always derisively said no way...

Well it must be a good week for dad (though certainly a bad week for another local family as you will see in a bit). In Agusan Marsh, right off of my main Mitragynine strand (trees we raise for lumber as well as my Kratom trade) a 9 year old Agusan Manobo (Malay tribe, Animist though many now are joining those horrid Missionary spawned nonsense) was eaten by a croc said to be well over 6 meters, with some claiming that it was around 9 meters (for any Americans, roughly 27 feet).

Agusan Manobo often live in floating villages deep in the marsh, she had been near our lands because she was taking, it is suppossed, the picturesque route to her floating school.

She was in her little outrigger with 2 other small children, with an older man travelling in his craft, in the opposite direction when the croc snathed her as she sat legs in the water.

They did fish part of her skull out but that is all the found.

After we had that sighting in the creek, maybe a while later after I had returned from Cambodia, I was watching the reality cable channel they have here and saw this naturalist, an expert on the crocadillians who was popping a woody over Nat Geo paying his sorry white ass a pretty penny to travel the globe and catch (and release) each one of the world' species.

So, the man is yammering away, shwing graphic images of this one and that one, prior to hitting the road, and he talks all excitedly about the chance to see the world' rarest breed. Lo and behold, that breed happens to be the fresh water croc we have!

I am ashamed as hell to admit that the first thing that crossed my mind was to take Joash, my 12 year old brother in law and fishing partner and try our hand at what promised to be a pretty penny.

The one Dad saw though was roughly .5 meter, a young one but where there are juveniles there is going to be a breeding population! Ergo, rare but viable as far as a single harvest goes if all goes well.

Yet, as I thought about it I really was ashamed of myself. By the Grace of G-D I do not want for money or any materiel items, so why kill vaingloriously? IF I were to kill or even capture a specimen it would inevitably spell doom for the breed.

In any apart of the Philippines, hell any part of SE Asia the poor people will eat anything moving, heck Bisaya are known to be cannibals (TadTad is a Bisaya phenomenon) and so, IF word got around the population would be erased...if not for food then certainly for the cash such a rare creature would bestow.

I am actually amazed that a specimen would be able to live in the creek. It is not deep at all, perhaps less than 1 meter in rare deep spots, though in Monsoon it can go 3 meters easy, for short periods of time. Yet, it runs through huge rice fields, and all the labourers traipsing about, plus all the starving poor scouring even rice fields for edible insects would not leave much eoom for a healthy or long existence.

Sometimes I see young men with battery packs strapped to their bodies electrocuting the water to collect the stunned creatures...and then in larger bodies like the marsh you get "Grenade Fisherman," who simple toss a live grenade into the water and simply scoop the dead or dazed wildlife.

Anyway, for a very long time I have been thinking about going deep into the marsh (several times bigger than the American Everglades) simply to explote.

My G-Dfather (sponsor in my civil marriage) is an Agusan Manobo from the Marsh but he is what is sadly known as a "Civilised Manobo," meaning he took an education and now lives with and like a Bisaya or Illongo. He happens to be a provincial politician but that is neither herw nor there.

Aside from seeing incredible scenery and
G-D knows what animals, I would love to see very traditional Agusan Manobo before the Missionaries accomplish what decades of insurrection could not.

I will close here due to the character count...
A white wall

in a bright room

space, there is no thing.

between each blink, lid smacking - blood shot- stoned face

erased.

Me, primed- smells like fresh paint- speckles of imperfections.

"It's a classic"

-------- its the nature of this beast...

or burden
bitchery...

a character -- this smirk that rests like pan above my lips-- curl, and smoothing brow.

sharing this look of perouse

we sit - like Adephagia within our brain waves. may we stay?

& pray?

maybe to pretend to forgive us in our indulgence?

or us too alike take each cracker in this pack - and as a memory overcomes and shares a feeling..


a bit of a sentimental snack.
:X:X:X:D

have you ever been so angry, so irritated that it felt good?

and im not talking about over something serious like a friend dying or totaling your car, just petty shit that fucks with you the whole day. shit that is so petty that being pissed off about the petty shit makes you even more pissed off. shit that gets under your skin like making it to work late and getting bitched out for it, being late because all the people on the fucking road decide that driving in front of you 5 miles under the speed limit is a good idea, spilling your coffee all over yourself while telling the people a head of you how stupid they are, youre at work and getting a lot of stuff done but the clock says you've only been there 30 minutes.
then everything and anything seems to piss you the fuck off like a friend telling you about their dream they had last night...i dont give a fuck what you dreamed about last night you fucking idiot, get the fuck out of my way im too busy raging about tiny shit!!! or a customer is asking for something and for some reason their voice is the most annoying, shittiest voice that has ever raped your ear.

but some where in that day you find the humor in it. the humor in being so angry about things that dont really matter that you cant help yourself. it's funny when the only words you want to say all day are mother fucker.
i'm getting settled in finally, got everything unpacked. still need to find or buy a new set of alan wrenches to set up my futon, and i'd like my bed up in this neat loft but i can't move it up there myself. the loft is carpeted, so i'd rather have my studio downstairs in the 'bedroom.' the bedroom is hardwood floors and higher ceilings, better lighting.

i unpacked all my drawings from the past few months and just spread them all out over the floor. feels nice to have lots of free room.

i've only done a little bit of drawing so far. my computer is sitting on my drafting table (again), because i can only get wireless from my landlord in the 'bedroom.' blahhh, boring stuff.

i got my tracing paper out this evening and started to trace the component parts of all my figure drawings. i have three pages of legs so far, and will do the same with arms, hands, feet, breasts, heads, etc. my plan is then to use those tracings to create composites or 'hybrid' figures, with different body parts from many different drawings. i think it could be interesting.

this isn't the first time i've used my figure drawings or self-portraits as tracing material. i'm going to just be extending that idea in the next couple days.

i'll post my results if they are any good.
Hi it's Tanya, how you been? Haven't heard from you in a while, but my Belfast babe insisted I get this hotmail/MSN messenger to have illicit video conversations online, lol. Anyway, hotmail deleted my old account I guess, and wanted to maybe chat sometime or hear back from you.

How are things on your side of the world? I miss talking to you, but I assume you're very busy, having fun, ect. What's new with you? Still hot and heavy with Aidan I'm sure, good for you for having the courage to actually go get and live out your dream. That's something I always admired about you.

Brendan got back in touch with me a month ago. That was a trip. I happened to be in a very sentimental, loving, romantic, mood when he IM'ed me at work. I forgot the heartache, but had this selective good memories of him only, next thing I know emailing and IMing him now feel like a continuation of where we left off.

I'm not even getting my hopes up, but I haven't had any proper sex for 8 yrs, the last time I was together with him. He lost his cushy job of 30 yrs a couple wks back, that was a shock, but we want to see each other, but this damn distance thing is a giant pain in the ass. Sigh. I wish I was rich.

If anything, he and my girlfriend Aimee helped me to feel beautiful again, because I put on sooo fucking much weight after stopping you know what, for 2 years I saw myself as terribly unattractive and considered my appearance an embarrassment. Aimee and her friends convinced me to wear pretty, sexy clothes so I feel and look good.

I did not want to show Brendan a current pic of me, but he wasn't gonna let me off the hook so I got that out of the way, then did the cam thing, God I was so embarrassed, but he insisted he liked me better, Christ. If anything, I no longer walk around wearing nothing but old ladies clothes because of my weight.

I quit eating just because it feels like I should. When cous left, no her, no pills, no nothin, almost felt kind of like I HAD to eat out of muscle memory or some bullshit. Mom quit smoking cigs 7 yrs ago after 38 yrs of 2-4 packs a day, so she still puffs on an unlit cigarette 2 appease the craving.

I've heard no cous where ur at is that still true? I think about you every so often and say a prayer for you and your family. I don't have a clue whether or not I'll ever be able to afford a trip, but Brendan wants to see me if I do, and I'd also like to see you, if I'm ever fortunate enough to make it out there again.

I've looked for guys that are sweet, romantic, and treat you like a lady in this country, the same kind of guys that are way more abundant in your neck of the woods, but I swear I've never found any. I wish So Cali men were like Irish ones, out here they're more out to get you in the sack ASAP, but over there, the culture is a bit slower paced, which I like in that area.

When I was a horny 16 y/o, I never appreciated that Mom always told me my generation got ripped off as far as dates because they expect sex a lot quicker, but now I GET it. Anyway, if I can see Brendan I will, if not, then guess it wasn't met to be. He got me jonesin for sex and romance all over again. I wish all men took their time.

Hope life is treating you well and wonderful, Debbie. I spoke to Tom (Dubby aka dublincastle) remember him? He's such a sweet man bless his heart, but still very addicted to dilaudid and morphine I think. I understand how that goes more than anything, but I hate to see him TRAPPED by and because of it. Know what I mean girl? Of course you do. You're prolly being good, I guess, do you still like Mary Jane?

God bless you girl,

Love,
Tanya

This has been an interesting last couple of days. Although managable, the W/D's weren't fun and after work Monday, I went directly to bed, stayed there all day, all night, until Tuesday early afternoon rolled around and it was time to go back to work again. On Tuesday, I wanted to feel happy about being at work, not wishing I wasn't there, able to W/D at home and vegetate at the TV and the walls. Good old Pink Floyd in The Wall, stuck off in a not happy zone, thats how I felt, so 6 hrs after I took my dose of ultram, I took an additional 4 1/2 pills. That's NOT a good thing in the long run, but fuck all I wanted was to feel some fucking serenity instead of dis-ease and discomfort.

I'm not sure if the doc has oked my Rx at the pharm, but I usually wait 48-72 hrs b4 checking, so as not to seem TOO anxious. I really hope there will be a bottle of pills ready and waiting for ME tomorrow, God please. So wasn't sure if I would or would not be getting any assistance from my Rx painkillers anytime soon, so the only other option for me of course was meth. I called Linda and asked if I could pick up a $20 after work, but she said no she had no money. The last couple Tuesdays she's gotten it for me cause she knows I'll pay, but she doesn't always have money. Fine, so I called the connect Aimee hooked me up with, he told me to call him when I got off work, so I did, but he refused to answer the phone. That dealer is a fucking flake. Still, right before my shift ended Johnny, Aimee's ex boyfriend told me to call Linda at her house so I did.

She was very upset, said that Kevin the flakey connect sold her his car, which she has, but she paid him $900 trusting that he would deliver the pink slip and registration papers. She hasn't heard hide nor hare from him in 3 days and he refuses to answer her calls. "Please can you come over right away after work? Are you almost done?," she asked. "Yes, sure," I said. "Joe is coming over and we'll probably end up getting something...." Good. I sure as fuck hope so. Get me away from these damn W/fucking/D's! This is excellent, I'm on the chemical roller coaster, but it feels almost impossible to get off and stay off day after day feeling like shit. I did talk to Cheryl and Jeff, my NA friends. Cheryl said the women that I know well there are very concerned about me and so is she. She hates seeing me so depressed and tired all the time and why do I insist I must go through this alone? "I can't get off these damn pills without feeling like total crap for extended lengths of time! And while I appreciate the love and support everyone wants to give me, that's so sweet, as much as I WISH someone COULD take this away from me, there's not a damn thing anyone can fucking do."

"It's not like any one person can wave a magic wand and make me well," I said although I did feel a pang of regret thinking about and missing my friends. When I was incarcerated back in Nov 2006 for 17 days, I finally started to feel physically better by the 11th day of my forced sobriety and detox. It was a trip too, because not only from that day forward did I feel physically well, but the obsession, the intense cravings for dope simply vanished and ceased to hold any real power over me. That felt liberating, as I hadn't felt that in a very LONG time, never thought I would either. Eleven days seems like an eternity when you're sick, however, because all I had to do was focus on nothing but my thoughts, myself, and God, boring as it was, I still didn't have to worry about making it to work, or complete other bullshit responsibilities that are required in life on the outside. So, it was a simple cold turkey detox but at least I didn't have to worry about being able to be in a good enough mood to be able to not hate being at work cause of feeling so crappy.

I took the freeway from Irvine to home, happy that I had an intuition that relief was waiting for me at the dope house. I love driving home from work most Tuesdays and I love going to my favorite spot because I have 5 years of positive assossiations with that place. It served as a home for me for a period when I was homeless, a place to be able to bathe and sleep, and use without hassle. In their world, I was not an outsider because we all had the same basic need. That house also served as a place to hang out to be able to use or just socialize and watch/listen to all the comings and goings of various dope fiends that are more entertaining most of the time than going to some "normal" place where "normal" people have fun. I pulled up at the house, there were a shitload of fiends that night. I hadn't seen Johnny in 2 years, the last time I'd seen him had been at an NA meeting. He'd had 9 months and I had a year or something. He managed to get his one year chip, I managed to get a 2 year chip. Yet, there we both were, back at the dope house again.

Another fiend that's a drunk that hangs out there named Chris also drifted in and out of NA/AA meetings, he'd seen me about a year ago in an NA meeting, then fancy we're back HERE again, haha. I was so grateful to Linda when she handed me a $20 bag and I did my issue, didn't feel much, although I did feel better. Ok wasn't the best shit that night. Oh well, better than nothing. More and different people hung at the pad, it was quite lively alright. Johnny, Aimee's ex kept giving me a hard time, teasing me bout walking the Blvd for $$ 4 yrs ago. "Hey, it was honest work at least," I said. I frown on scandalous folks that scam and rip people off left and right. I've sold dope, I've pawned jewelry once, I've sold my ass, sold my things, or worked at regular jobs, but didn't as a general rule go around stealing because I strongly disagree with THAT.

Looks like Linda got scammed out of $900 and I told her, "Girl, you don't give him your money until after he gives you the pink slip and reg sheets. She had been taken by Vanessa too apparently. Before Linda went off to jail the last time, she did another dumb thing, gave Vanessa her car to take care of, Vanessa sold her car and kept the money from what everyone says. Sigh again. Linda is one of the few honest non thieves in the dope world, thats why I trust her not to rip me off, BUT she has no common sense when it comes to people ripping HER off. So, had a wonderful visit, talked to Linda, Aimee, Cody, Johnny, this 23 year old dude named Chad that was chattin this old sexy middle aged broad up, hopin to get lucky. He kept filling bowl after bowl of meth, but it didn't occur to me he was interested in me THAT way. Fuck me. Then Johnny was after me too. Actually, I look nice, but have finally accepted my body and no longer tripping over not having the old one.

Thats 3 different guys that made it a point to tell me they thought I still really have it goin on, in spite of the extra % of me there is now available to grab onto. I was able to look in the mirror and actually feel GOOD about what I saw, have been the last couple weeks, maybe more, but what is such a relief is that I no longer feel self loathing or self contempt. I'm simply a nice looking middle aged broad with more bounce to the ounce. I came home at 6am Wed (today) and really got into writing, really got into sex too. I love how meth heightens my sense of touch and now for the first time in years, my sexuality too. It enables me to experience the pleasure of getting off, even if it is by myself. I'd rather wait until having sex WITH someone else later or not at all if there's no one in my life that I want to share that part of me with. It's a great way to release tension. I guess that's why men can't keep their snakes in their pants often times.

I'm enjoying these sensual pleasures of meth, the writing, the sex, even talking to different friends on line I hardly ever get a chance to talk to and having the patience to dick around with this computer. Loving the benefits, but yeah I know, I've GOT to get unhooked off Tramadol or painkillers, somehow get back to feeling normal and not shitty without them. The meth then ideally would be for schedule only if at all, and yeah I know I shouldn't be doing it at all, but DAMN it feels so nice to feel the benefits of it that I couldn't somehow get sober.

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