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I just spent all this time writing a damn blog and it ate it. I am NOT rewriting it. Fucking pisses me off.

ain't all its cracked up to be sometimes.

I'm staying with my girlfriend for now, ma'dukes pulled the ol' "intervention" on me. basically an excuse to kick me out and not feel guilty about it. but whatever, I'm sure her and the stepdad are happier with me out of here.

Still looking for work, except now my car insurance company dropped me, so I had to turn in the tags, and therefore I have no vehicle at the moment... sucks. so I'm looking for work that I can walk to if possible, not likely, but I gotsta try right? I'm pretty sure I'm FINALLY getting that settlement check next month some time, so I'll get the truck back then. not like last time when I was off the road for like 5 or 6 months. that SUCKED. will not do it again.

I've really gotta get this dope habit done with though, so I need work, but to go to work, I need dope. ain't it a bitch. so if I can keep myself maintained until I can save enough to get into a Suboxone program, I'm golden. but until then its the usual shit life is shit routine.

until next time kiddies...

im at a plateau. coasting steadily along the daily routine. sometimes i make myself late to work just to mix things up a bit. whenever this happens i remember a certain episode of pete and pete where little pete was talking about the length of time between spring break and summer vacation. there were no holidays or possible snow days to rule out the eight hours of pencil pushing monotony. little pete was then struck with an epiphany, "sick day" he whispered. feigning an illness with strategic precision he stayed home, got a george washington marshmallow stuck in his nose and had an adventure getting it out.
here recently ive had no fun sick days considering the g-ma's understandable harshness pertaining to my absence and my mind has sat at a robotic lull. now im wanting more than just a day of leisure when im not suppose to, i want a week of traveling to a destination or some kind of something different and nothing else will suffice. and there must be a large body of water some where in said week. and alcohol. and funny people...

i hate plateauing god dammit.

Had a strange dream last night. Stuck with me throughout the day. I was walking in a field, grass as green as green could be. The sun was shining behind the clouds above. It was dark, but peaceful. It was a perpetual twilight of sorts, like when the moon is full and illuminating everything. It was like that magic hour before it gets dark but not before the light wains. I laid down in the field and was very comfortable. The grass was like a bed. I turned to my left and looked to the sky to see the sun behind a wall of clouds, silver light and tarnished inky blue sky. And then I started singing. Whats weird is that I was singing the song Ave Maria, I am in now way Catholic... And whats even weirder is that I was singing it in traditional Latin. I felt so calm, and I can't forget the way the sky looked and the way everything was dark, but light. Everything looked familiar, it was like I was in Elysium... I really don't know what to make of it. Must investigate further.

Once again my parents decided to argue over stupid shit. I can't really blame my Mom for yelling because my Dad can be a real asshole when he is drinks to much, unfortunately he drinks to much to often, he is an alcoholic. But then she turns around and says something and then blah blah blah things escalate. Sometimes I wonder why they are still married lol. But that shit don't bother me at all. I got more important things to worry about and dwelling on bullshit like that begets only more bullshit. Not phased, I'm happy in life now and will stay happy. But all that shit, it makes me think...

If I get married I would never argue with my wife the way my father does. Raising his voice, yelling, slamming shit down and being a run of the mill asshole. That shit isn't right. Why act like that? It gets you nowhere. I don't care how much my wife pissed me off, I would never disrespect her. And that's another thing. Serious arguments and fighting in a relationship? I mean granted there will be disagreements but this fucking manic yelling shit? Fuck that. When two people love each other they should never argue like animals. I mean, its cool to joke around and playfully argue and raise your voice for the hell of it, but this serious business fighting? Nah brah, nah. Instead of arguing, I'll talk stuff out. And my fathers drinking. That's some bullshit. I would never let a drug or chemical come between me and my wife. When you get married you get married to the person you love, you don't get married to whatever poison you choose to pump into yourself. I really don't see how people can choose a drug over love. I have felt the highest highs and I can say with truth, love is the greatest feeling ever, its absolutly magical. If was confronted with the choice of being able to feel high for the rest of my life or feeling the love I experience with my girlfriend for only a minute and never again, I would choose feeling that one precious minute of love. And where is the romance? My Dad never really brings home flowers or gifts for my Mom. I'm not saying you got to bring home something everyday for the love of your life but something here and there that says I love you and was thinking of you is good. I don't care what people think, I'm into romantic stuff, flowers, poems, serenades, all that jazz. Hell, where is the basic acknowledgment of even being married? The communication? My Father rarely converses with my Mom. Maybe if he did he would know how to not piss her off lol.

One thing I will never understand how people fuck up, fight, and become displeased with each other in a realtionship. I see and hear about that shit just about everyday and it boggles my mind because its so ludicrous when you get down to brass tacks.

Seriously though, I love my Dad and all, but I will be better than him and make sure that if I ever get married, I treat my wife with respect and show her love.

Well, I ordered my 2nd order of pods today. Last time I tried it, it didn't work for me. But its going to be cheaper than Tramadol. I'll have to do some research here on BL, make sure I do it right. I'm wondering about dosing. I'm not sure I'm going to like it. I like painkillers, but I'm so used to the stim. feeling of Tramadol that this might be a change. Perhaps it might be easier for me to use and on my body than the Tramadol. My body doesn't like the stuff so much anymore. I guess we will have to see how it goes.
No lectures here, I know bad stuff. I've helped pull a friend from addiction to it. But I feel, so well incomplete, non-top-functional without Tram at the moment.

A few things have really been getting to me recently and i feel the need to let them out so her we go!

First: I use to love pillreports.com. I would always tell people about it because i considered it a legitimate source on finding info about pills.

Starting in November though the site has turned to hell. (I'm not trying to take a stab at the mods who do a wonderful job at moderating it though)

It started with a few more bad reports than usual and then it just got worse. Now i cant go to the site without seeing shit reports that are a few sentences long and give no useful info. The worst is when they guess on whats in the pill and then write a sentence saying "but they were bomb".

No one uses test results, they all go off of what they hear or suspect is in the pill. 75% of the time they're wrong and it turns out to be a waste of a report.

Its all noobie rollers with no education on the drug who treat it as nothing. I'm sick of this mentality and sick of the way i see pillreports.com.

i can no longer give it out as a legit source for finding info on pills because most reports are just crap now.

It saddens me as it was at one point one of my favorite websites to go to.
I really hope things can turn around sometime in the future.

(once again, I'm not trying to take a stab at the mods of the site and I'm not trying to disrespect them in any way! I'm taking a stab at the dumb people who feel the need to post useless and shitty reports on that website)


Second: I'm sick of the racism that i hear on a daily basis. I get it even from the closest of my friends. None is directed towards me, but towards random others who have done nothing wrong. The worst part about it is that they feel no remorse and they'll even say it really loud in the vicinity of those they're insulting.

I cant stand listening to it anymore. It enrages me to the fullest.



woo i feel better now

26 April 2009

It's kind of lame to talk about the weather, but other than a trip to the gym (the first time in nearly a week ) and a stop at the Asian market on the way home I pretty well just stayed in and cooked all day today. Which is how I like it, but it's not too conducive to transcendence.

So the weather today was odd, even for the late-April last gasp of winter that we usually get here. It seemed like every 10 minutes it was changing from drizzle to flurries to sleet to huge snowflakes to hail to weird styrofoam-like snow, with painfully bright sunny bits in-between. That in itself isn't too strange, but the fact that it has been going on all day is. Seeing as how I have a love of snow, and a perverse love of flaunting that love among those that hate snow, I'm thinking that tomorrow will be a fun day at work.

/mischevious_grin

Give me a highway that snakes through the ghettos of my home and I will show you the location of every place my soul has ever been re born.

Do you really want to know? As you drive i will point out to you - "That one...That one...That one...That one...That one...."

I am just the same as you but I know the secrets of all the places you go right past. When I think of paradise its a porcelin sink and a noisy vent blowing above my head. My promised land is a 7 by 7 square foot patch of tile with a good solid lock.

Some of them are all the same. Dunkin donuts for example. Theyre a good friend cuz you can always count on them. dont fuck around in the ones in the hood they know wat your doin , you up to no good. However, 85 cents and a strawberry frosted donut changes everything. One bagged confection later and youre welcome to have a upset stomach and really need to use the bathroom as long as you want without nobody knock knock knockin you out of your fleeting bliss.

Then theres the restaurants. Kiddies and moms peeing together, wash your hands, I SAID WASH YOUR HANDS, NO that does NOT mean to play with the hand dryer! Sit deathly still tryin not to spill your prized possession of the moment, waiting for the sound of ripping toilet paper and flushing and the slam and draft of the door shutting so you can go over to the baby changing station and make better use of the flat surface, cuz who wants to mix their shot on a toilet paper dispenser or a tampon disposal box. and the back of toilet tank is out of the question becuz while its nice and big and flat, God already hates you and you aint gonna take the risk of placing your dope no where NEAR a pool of water with the power to destroy your precious cargo. Shit I get the heebie jeebies just thinking about it.

Wanderin out to the smell of fries and back into the cold light a smoke as soon as you pass thru the doors, mission successful.

But my favorite is the lonely back rooms where you get a key attatched to some impossibly large object to make sure you dont run off with that shit. Dont nobody want to go in there. You know that aint no housewife with her kid who "really gotta go pee-pee, mommy," is gonna lower her self and her kid to THAT grimey ass excuse for a toilet. So you go inside and buy the cheapest thing available since those old middle eastern or hispanic guys dependin where you at , dont like people playin in their damn bathrooms. "you buy" they say, and you toss em 50 cents and walk away with the key to your private motel room for the next 10 minutes. Not bad rates I got to say. Ill come back next time I need to stay.

A cracked mirror under a half burned out bulb awaits you and a soggy mop bucket covered in gray slime rests in the corner. The white grout of the tile floor long since turned black. The sink with a bar of brown colored ivory soap, dried up crust where the outlines of where bubbles sat about 2 years ago which was the last time someone used that soap. a paper towel dispenser with nothin to show when you crank the knob on the side. Now thats wat Im talkin about you think. Ever so gently arranging the tools of your trade like a surgeon ready to dive into a triple bypass you lay out your cap, your q tip, your set, and checking for any drop of water before you make a move you see that its acceptable and briefly rest your bags down on the rim of the sink.

Time is tickin, dont wanna go slow and use up a 'take a shit' amount of time with no stank to leave behind so you better move your ass. its second nature, even tho you are satisfied in your logical mind that aint nobody gonna even remember your ass in the constant stream of travelers passing in and out and youre safe for the moment and then some.

I like those bathrooms. It might be beauty in decay. Or maybe its the feeling that everything else on earth that I want I cant have, too poor, too much of a junkie, not enough education. A lexus and a credit card aint never gonna be mine. So I will enjoy the last scraps left over that nobody else wants. Its ok that its dirty cuz you know why its dirty, its from people like you, Its just the same things you are used to. We got super power anti germ protection. We aint scared of no damn dirt right. Shit, your q tip fell on the floor, well wat the fuck are you supposed to do about it you aint got no more. 5 second rule. and you peel and pull off a little ball, pinchin the top off so you know, its like the part that touched the floor is gone , yea, so its ok.

When its ready you take the plunge, whew its done, and stare up at your flickering florescent sun. You survey your kingdom from your throne which happens to be standing backed up against the wall because theres barely enough room for the shitter and the sink in the room. Raise your scepter and use it to shoot the blood tinged water up at the ceiling splattering browinsh pink water in a nice fireworks type of pattern on the chipped cobwebbed plaster. Job description? Interior decorator.

Yea man, I got it good you think. Everything I need right here. For now.

In your quiet tomb , echoes reflect off the tile walls, the light keeps stuttering and a moth flutters around it with a death wish. The rusty sink drips and the brown streaked toilet bowl sweats rust tinged condensation down the side of the pot.

And at that moment that the divine light hits you, the moment you been waiting for, it all stops while some shitty radio station travels from the back of the quicky mart thru the exposed insulation into your presence and you cant even hear the song and you dont care, and the door is locked firm, no one to bother you, to take you out of your day dream, a wall of scarred up graffiti covered industrial steel bars you from the outside world and you from it, and the sink drips in a dopehead lullaby symphony , and your body hits a climax of the ultimate not giving a fuck about the fact that you are surrounded by filth and no one in the world knows where you are....At that moment of salvation, of a diesel powered freight train runnin through your veins, of nothingness and nowhere, you are, Supremely alone. And thats the point, aint it?

it's all just hopeless imperfections. things to look over or to sweep under the rug because of their inevitable existence. in these taunting hours of total revelation i can pin point the exact beginning. i can see through the tangerine stars laced with coincidence and strategically placed, one by one, in their solitude. i havent found what it is ive been looking for, but i have a map and the carrot is dangling before my sleepy eyes, trusting the blue spiral dreams hungry for realization. the weight of the world and the silence of not knowing defines the present state. it settles uneasily, separating like oil and water until shaken unmercifully. im going to kick the jar.

So, I've done a pretty miserable job of posting in my blog up until now. The thing is, I think of things throughout the day to write, but by the time I get home I've either forgotten them or couldn't be bothered with it. None the less, I like the idea of having a blog, so I'm going to try to take inspiration from James Kochalka and distill the day down to one particular event.

24 April 2009

Yesterday I was able to celebrate a small victory. At work I needed to contact someone at a contract lab in the 'States to clarify a point. However my contact there has only been in touch with some exec with another company, who has only been in touch with my CEO, who just forwarded their info to me. Unfortunately, the contact info was just a mailing address and phone number.

A little background is in order perhaps. I have an issue with phones. For many (unfortunately formative) years I had a fairly severe stutter. This led, as any visible difference from others will at that age, to ostracism and isolation from my peers. Over years of therapy I've learned how to speak more or less normally, but by then the damage was done: speech was, and remains, a huge source of anxiety for me. These days I can handle face-to-face communication well enough, but I am still virtually incapable of picking up a phone and calling my best friends, much less a stranger.

So with a minimum of psyching up, I was able to call my contact, clarify the point that needed to be clarified (whether or not my very dilute prototype sample needed an MSDS), and concluded the call with no problems. Mind you, I did pretty well have to script most of the call, but for me that's still a huge step.

Hm, maybe I should learn to draw comics. It would certainly be a lot more succinct. And interesting

Dave is very valuable to blogs with his great insight and caring nature.

He'll be helping me out with modding blogs now. Please welcome him!!

well i haven't really packed up my apartment for the move on tuesday, but honestly i don't have that much stuff.

i'm kind of anxious about getting into the new apartment in the new state (moving from chicago to grand rapids), and hope i can follow through with my plan to work really hard on drawing and building a body of work before my graduate studies begin this fall.

i'm worried i'll just play computer games all summer instead

Ok so Ive never been much for rolling until here recently, I am taking lamictal for a "mood disorder" im actualy just irratable but either way i take it I also take celexa, this is for depression and severe anxiety.. I am wondering if It is possible and safe for me to roll, or will i need to stop my medication? I would rather not caus eI do get pretty irritable when i dont take it... I appreciate someone advise and help on this... Thank youvery much

I mean but wow . . SNORt HE HIS WAY INTO THIS

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I am just now about 80 minutes into my first time with mephedrone . . . never tried it but suddenly remembered that I had a 200mg sample stashed away somewhere... friday night, due to many nights out in recent past happy to stay home without cabin fever and enjoy myself home alone.

as an ex-methylone fiend (20gr+) I have to say this is quite different despite similarities. Speedier and drunker... less heart chakra but WAY more sexual chakra stuff.

DRUNK (alcohol) +
EMPATHY (mdma) +
DIZZY (heh, whatever...drunk? ghb / kratom-like)
HORNY as all hell ... must get my hands on some more to test with girlfriend.

Now about 90 minutes into it... still coming up because I snorted it in small increments... first one maybe 20mg... slowly added as I started feeling tingles and flashes of "wowwmmm" and kept adding faster and with bigger lines... till all gone. DEFINITELY FIENDISH, and should I indeed obtain some then I hope I can gtlo slow and not do too much in a night (reports aplenty suggest that is unwise) and not do it too often. All that of course pending acceptable mbodysoulmind till day 4 or so after the experience, to be sure with the serotonin hole issue. (Because the very rare cousin of this -- this one here being 4-methyl-meth-cath, and the cousin being 4-methoxy-meth-cath --- gave me a HUGE serotonin slump, post-use depression, after I'd used a double dose twice within 4 days. Was truly and abominably miserable for a week after that. I loved it but would refrain from obtaining more simply because the low was awful.

Having said that I am a volatile person really. Hypomanic/moderately depressed... bipolar... and it's haapend with so many of thse stims ... feel great and then feel crap. Loved my methylone till it got the better of me and showed me how easily i can become a fiend with no principles but pleasure. That was hard lesson to learn and I don't wanna go all the way back there, I feel like I (should) have learnt something ... well I understood something but I suppose it is only learnt when we can apply the understanding to our lives in a positive transformative or supportive way . . . this is a lot like it... 4FA is another one of those. i LOOOOVED it at first... haha almost no comedown,. that's because it's so treacherous, even the next day i can almost still feel it and it tinges my vision and my hearing, my touch,m indeed all my senses... i am dulled, I am "that" ... kind of blah. Feels, hmm, like being 'taken over' . . . drug auto pilot... Where is self? What is self? hence my reservation ... do I really want to explore another stimulant? 4FA is just... a cloak. Brightener fluffmaker, fuzzy yellower, ultimately unwise, unbebeficial. Easy letdown but feeling fuuzy blah till mid midweek. Not depressed per se but kinda unmotivted and unbothered to think about it all too much. Medium-term some moodswings but .. ok. Not much total desperation, only little anxiety. Anxiety is what I get when I take too much coke (and very little can be too much) or MDPV.

Coke and MDPV were never my thing. Too soon I got too stressed out (are these the releasers rather than the reuptake inhibitors?) - the plateau of sexually excited euphoria and the hard crash of "wow man this is serious now my fingers are cold, my jaw is grinding i am overstimulated and all this feel like an effort" ... nahm, don't like that. Dysphoria and Worry.

Eth-Cath I tried. VERY nice. Nice at home and nice with beers out with friend... if I drink enough I don't even realise much of a comedown bar some scatteredness. Tried it at a concert, with beer as I often do when going out, and had fun. But again easily overstimulated, and sadly i find that once that has happened there is no way out till sleep. So at this concert where i took eth-cath... (and probably K and a but stoned and 3 beers or so, cos that's my weekend going-out staple, plus coca-leabes sometimes) ... I had GREAT FUN.... Till it wore off. became weary, bit negative, wistful... top-up didn't work. no top-ups with eth-cath... nos is that good or bad? probably good but makes it hard to use when going out... crashes too soon... so does methyone, I find... i didn't use to think so but now I do...

hah but this is turning into journal stuff. I just took a break from my Tokyo Erotica porn Watching session in the living room to share with you all my first impressions of my first experience on 4-mmc aka mephedrone, I mean wow what i talkative fucker i am now, hahaha! benn onm Bluelight for years now, not been reading or posting much any more the last year or(or two, almost) because i have in the process of repositioning myself in relation to drugs and decided to allot them a smaller space in the canvas ogf my life . . .

but then ... everything changes.... some 10 days ago I took E with my new partner... my first time in 11 months .. her first time EVER .... it was nothing short of stunning on many personal levels I will not share here... but what strikes me is I didn't get a comedown.... I know i am in love and it helped us bond.... but still , moody bastard that I was until the day i took the MDMA, I am nothing short of amazed at how much better i am now.

So why spoil it with more drugs (beloved new partner is away, no reunion for 5 or 6 months) ... haha. Anyway, this one got me writing. i am thinking of obtaining some because I feel like it could be fun to take ti with her. Indeed a sexy drug.... and the empathy.... for fuck's sake... this is grumpy ximot telling the "other drugs" forum his experience of 200mg mephedrone intranasally snorted over the period of 80 minutes.... I haven't been on BL much recently, but I think of this space quite a bit... i wish you all well... and I type and I type... straight into the Thread reply window. i will post this now, before some bad click erases it forever. and then I will copy paste it into my first journal. I am going to open a journal now. This is my first journal entry. Thank you, world!



EDIT. ah yeah I also took 0.5gr K just before i started writing. Often when I take K, especially in combination with stimulants, I feel like I have taken a truth drug . . . and I wrote non-stop for hlf an hour. Wow, sometimes I still do surprise myself. Now, whas this progress (am I becoming more creative and expansive and affirmative?) or regression (falling back into old habits... deadpan posts endlessly reiterating and not helping me...). I wonder. Sometimes...

Those of you who know me well and who have read all this, perhaps you can tell me... this is kinda how I want to be all the time without drugs, yet minus the drama that comes with being a tad overwhelmed.

A warm thank you to all who interacted with me over the years and made my Bluelight time a memorable one, and one I am glad to have been a part of for so long so far.

damn... and i started by telling u all it was a horny drug... hahaha. no girl here and started thinking about things while watching that film... and then got so into my thoughts, like wow, and felt compelled to share. And I don't feel horny now. Just ... thinky in a good way, and I have a bit of a gurn . . . @T+2hr...so, from first snort to last snort it took me just under an hour really.... 200mg wheeeeeeee

I realize it's self-defeating to think of how much money I would have right now had I accepted my job offer after undergrad and not gone on to grad school only to graduate with loads of debt (a year in Finland partying costs about as much as a 5 series), but I just can't help it.

Here I sit, utterly unemployed despite my best efforts. Okay, I admit I did have a job for a while after grad school but it was a fucking slave factory and because my boss's boss was a dick to him my boss was also a dick to me. So, probably becoming many people's secret hero, I walked into his office and said "I quit and fuck you." Once the awesomeness wore off, of course, I noticed that I wasn't making any money for several months and here I sit still.

Within the next couple of months I will be totally broke if I don't get a job, and it is not exactly very cool to ask grandma for $10,000 all the time when you're 25 years old - and in the meantime let her decorate your apartment and put groceries in it while inexplicably, my roommate, who I have sex with on a daily basis, pays both rent and electricity for both of us. To be fair, she has her own house she rents out which almost makes my existence as a bum acceptable on some level.

It's the sedentary nature of my existence that is driving me out of my mind right now. I go to as many job fairs as possible since I blew some stupid amount of money on a new office wardrobe. I have even covered the clothing and electronics stores at the mall with my applications. There are a few companies that have put me through a few interviews but no word yet.

It is starting to really get me down. I had to sell all of my stock Friday just to be sure that I definitely had enough money to meet my debt payments if I don't get hired by someone soon, and of course I can look forward to receiving a bill from the IRS next year for not reporting that 60% gain in the first four months of this year (yes, I can be awesome sometimes).

If it weren't for my psychiatrist keeping me fairly sedated, I probably would have had a heart attack by now.

check out this thread. i spammed about 8 or 9 drawings from this past month.

in other news, i'll be moving in the next 9 days, which has me nervous and excited.

It's nearly impossible to overcome the horrid and loved images, events, and times that seem to have been the building blocks of what has become of me, who I am today.
Every little seemingly meaningless occurrence in one’s life someday will have an impact.
The first years of your life are everything. Parental influence is everything.
What did I see as a child? I saw my father a slave to the needle, vomiting on the couch, shooting up in the car, the blood running into the needle as his eyes closed.

Many of my thoughts seem to contradict each other. I’m in my own mental war with myself.
Meth does not define me. I hate to love it.

My respect for Meth and the potential it carries is beyond words.
The way that it can overpower someone.. Power that has gripped me, and pursued it even whilst staring into the face of death – head on...
Meth made me different person, with a different personality, a whole new character, while the true you is still present, but being locked up behind a barrier that prevents any and all of your former morals, personalities, and beliefs from playing any role within this new person. A person you never pictured yourself becoming. The thing you said you’d never be.
A person who sleeps with men for money. Drags others willingly into a course of addiction without regret. A person who drives their own mother to depression and their own father to suicide. A person who just doesn’t give a damn about anything but their fucking pipe.
Meth creates a glass wall, leaving you at times able to see through and see what you used to be but never able to become it. All advice from other people will be denied and furiously retaliated because of this entirely different person that you now are.

It’s when you finally see a glimpse of the person you used to be – that you realise you are addicted. For some this never even happens. It didn’t to me for five years. Now it has; and I wish I remained oblivious. It’s easier not to care.

I am so pissed off right now im having a major come down from speed and need to take more,im too scared to incase the dogs smell it in my sweat at the prison tomorrow and no one wants to help me....

In this dream that I had, I was talking to a guy. He put his arms around me and started kissing me, then said "Why are you so sad? God and Christ are all around us." I reached down to see if he was hard - he was. I woke up angry. Who gives people the right to say that they know the truth? His experience isn't mine - it might be completely false. I can't accept his truth at face value because I haven't experienced it - God is nowhere to be found in my life. I believe in karma, and some kind of order to the universe, but there is no parent-figure like God looking out for me. Do I wish there was? Fuck yes I do.

I really want someone to take care of me like my parents did when I was little. I don't feel like a capable adult, even though everyone says I am. I feel helpless against the tides of the world, like some rock being buffeted around in the sea. It would be nice if there was some bigger being watching out for me and taking care of me, but I don't experience that - I don't believe. I can't even depend on other people to love me and take care of me - all of their love is conditional. Sometimes guys seem like they will love and take care of me, but that's only on the condition that I get them off, that I please their primal physical senses in some way. Women usually expect that I always agree with them and validate them emotionally. People get fed up with loving and taking care of other people, so I would never expect them to love and take care of me the way I need.

But I am really jealous of people who claim to have God or Christ or some such being in their life. I can't say for sure what the truth is, but at least they gain some sense of security and relief from that experience of theirs. I have no such sense of relief or security. I know that I am alone, and I resent it. I don't know how to feel good it - how is that even possible?

Right now, I don't know who I am or what I am doing, what I was supposed to be doing has gone with yesterday. Right now I just need to figure out why indeed I got out of bed today, and hopefully remember that reason tomorrow morning.