Blogs

1. I love the smellof his skin 2. The feel of his hair 3. The touch of his hand 4. The Embrace of his hug 5. The privilege of receiving his kiss. 6. The comfort of his company 7. The way of his heart 8. The view of his eyes 9. The sound of his voice 10. The vibration of his aura 11. The warmth of his laugh 12. The vulgarity of his humor 13. His outstanding intelligence 14. His everlasting curiosity of life. 15. The opportunity to enjoy his existence in my life path

I am grateful for being able to love you.....

My mind stays in a state of blankness, no more do i have the quick wit of my youth and sharp mind. I sometimes even find it hard to maintain a conversation with someone because i cant think of the next thing to say to further the convo. Its a depressing state of mind to be in, previously i had always been the delight of people Im with. Im 27 now, i feel like ive lost my memory, i should have been writing more stuff down. i always thought that my memory would serve me well and as i got older i would be happy because of all the great memories ive had. Because ive lived a pretty awesome life, so far, in my perspective atleast. I love music, i love everything it, the production, performance, the feeling, everything. Ive spent many years of my youth going to see various concerts, festivals, tours, and i partied while there. But i feel as tho my mind doesnt keep up with that of my friends, i seem to have to think of things to say when the room goes silent, i never just have something funny come to me anymore and just say it, or something interesting for that matter. I just exist. Ive smoked a lot of tree over my years and had an opiate addiction to which im clean of, been clean for 3+ years, Its like im stuck in that bullshit highschool mindset where im still trying to act cool around some of my closest friends and girlfriend, but im just not cool anymore lol.

My boss was at the airport to greet me - being picked up at the airport after a difficult trip makes life much easier. She went out of her way to do it. It was on a saturday (Halloween) and she had to sacrifice family duties. That was very nice of her

I had boarded the plane around 8 am Friday california time and it was now 2 pm Paris time (9 time zones). Roughly 21 hours of travelling (2 transfers and layovers) had tired and frazzzled me, and I was not in good condition to deal with anything on my own. She bought me lunch and a coffee then dropped me off at my hotel. My apartment wouldn't be ready for 2 more days.

I hadn't had a full night of sleep for a few days because of the time it took to prepare and decide what to pack, do social things, from tapering, minor WDs, etc.

When packing, the less you take, the harder it is to pack because you really have to think about each thing and how much you want to keep it. You start thinking about how much it will encumber your movement at the airport and how much it weighs and how much it will cost to ship it all.

At the hotel, I took a quick nap, got up before dark, put on a coat and hat and walked around the block where the hotel was located and bought a sandwich and some fruit at a tiny grocery store. I was hungry, but I continued walking, carrying my food but not eating. I didn't see anybody eating food in public on the sidewalk or the park. I was wondering if there is a cultural taboo against eating food in public other than at restaurants and cafes. Maybe only slobs or tourists eat in public in France.

So i continued to walk around trying to decide how to eat. I was sleep deprived and in my state, this question was bothering me. I didn't want to look like a greedy slob or a pig or a tourist - I was sure that I would if I were the only one eating in public. So I went to Brançion park. This small park was crowded. 100s of people were there strolling, sitting or standing. But nobody was eating; most of them were reading books alone or in groups. They were all ages, not just students.

I was happy to see so many people reading. The French, Parisians at least, must be very educated and intellectual. This might be a place where I can fit in, feel at home, talk to somebody whose idea of a conversation is something other than the exploits of his favorite hyper-commercialized 'sports' team, and make some friends. I noticed that to the edge of the park was a very large open-air book market covering about an acre of land. Despite my hunger and exhaustion, I started to feel good about being here.

I've never seen so many people reading, not even at a bookstore or library in the US. In California at parks, most people walk, play games, do drum circles, smoke pot, or sit and talk or eat or play with their iCrap devices. Even at American libraries most people don't (and probably can't) read. I have spent a lot of time in American libraries in several states, and most libraries I've been to have degenerated into free daycare centers full of out of control children and ados (adolescents) dumped there or just out of school to be supervised by the librarian until the parents came home from work or shopping or drinking at the corner bar or whatever they were doing that they didn't want children to be with them.

Eventually I gave up. I found a bench and hid my food in a bag where I broke off tiny pieces and surreptitiously ate them.

It feels like a wrong love affair I keep going back and hating myself after..I'm weak and I can't control myself. I've been trying to escape the horror of the needle and the drugs for so long. I was almost there. To the person who without me knowing left a syringe u just broke me...

I don't know why, but I've received a lot of requests for videos where I nod off after my shot. I was a little embarassed to do one at first, but then a few came naturally. In a couple I actually film over an hour of me sleeping, lol. Thought I'd post something short and sweet at first though

I haven't felt so good in a long time this mix is by far the best mix I've ever done..I can't think or feel but without nodding off I'm still functional but because I'm not nodding off and still get the wonderful affects the heroin brings..perfection deadly dangerous perfection

Feeling a bit off today, well more off then usual I probably should say. Today is my day off, yet in three hours I am to attend our weekly manager meeting because my supervisor cannot seem to comprehend the concept of making a work schedule that makes any damn bit of sense at all. Well then now that that has been said, what else is there? I would like to take the dogs on a walk through the park before this previously mentioned meeting takes place. Something to brighten my mood before facing the inevitable. I hate how words tend to get stuck on the tip of my tongue. It even happens when I am writing. I a know what I want to communicate, but struggle in finding the words. Cognitive abilities do seem to be taking some damage. I imagine this is what getting old feels like, though I am only twenty five years old. There is nothing to blame for this but my own choices that I continue to make on a daily basis while the other half of me is screaming please no more.

But hey, my life is going great right? There has to be some speck or sliver left inside of me. Maybe there never was to begin with. Maybe I would not be at this point had there been. Maybe destiny is real, and a pot of gold still does lie at the end of this seemingly meaningless empty rainbow. It could be I am trying to hard to find meaning when there isn't any. Either way I am not going down without a fight. There is something out there that I can feel and am determined to find.

I'm a little embarrassed for not working on my blog. I'll transpose some of what was written in a notebook and post here. I don't have time to do much else with it. Although I live in a country where everyone, including myself, gets 6 weeks of paid vacation per year, between now and vacation time, I have to pay for it in the form of 60 - 70 hour work weeks. Actually, that's typical for research science at top places anywhere in the world, including here at the Institut. On top of that, I spend much of my spare time studying French.

Before coming here, I was told that everyone speaks English in Western Europe (except for rural areas and countries like Spain which some people say is backward ). And at the Institut where everyone is highly educated and has a PhD, everyone was supposed to be fluent in English. English is the common language of science, and most of our research is published in English, after all. Therefore, learning French would be optional. Not true. It turns out that fluency in French is a requirement; to my surprise, not many people speak English, and I have about a year to do it or people will be mad at me.

I was only slightly prepared for this. In July, I began listening to some Frnech lesson tapes on my mp3 player. Over the summer, I also memorized a few travelers/learners french word lists.

My method since coming here has been to memorize a Petit Larousse dictionary that I found on the roadside in Paris the first day I arrived. I've memorized about 2000 words. A problem with that method is that while I can read french very well now and write it (except my grammar is bad) I don't know how anything is pronounced. To my ear for example, the words for fingernail (ongle) and angle (angle) sound exactly alike.

I've never worn a cowboy hat until recently because they seem to be appropriate only for certain people like ranchers and farm hands. Otherwise, they look silly. But a few years ago, I bought one at a gourmet hat boutique in North Beach, San Francisco. This place was a real haberdashery full of expensive and fancy headgear for men made there.

I was about to move to the cabin at an abandoned ranch in the high desert in eastern Oregon, and I wanted something to try to fit in with the community. It had to have better sun protection than my Branson Tractors trucker cap which was by then stained and very greasy. It didn't work - I never felt like I fit in even though most people were very nice, and half the peolpe I met were misfits in their own way, just as I am.

A typical reaction was that whenever I rode into town for supplies ( I took a bicycle or motorcycle when I finally had that working or jogged or rode with someone in a car. I never rode any of the horses that far and wouldn't want to with traffic. Besides, riding a horse on a road isn't fun. On a hot summer day, it's like sitting on a furnace, and there's no wind to cool you. ), even wearing that hat or no hat or any hat for that matter, if i struck up a conversation with someone, almost always a local and a complete stranger to me, they would often ask me what country i was from. They usually asked if i was from Scotland or Ireland. Even my gf and her friends, when i first met them in san fran were convinced i was a Canadian.

When I go on a trip for a weekend or even few weeks, I travel light because it is easier and less stressful. I take only one small backpack like a Jansport or something day pack that I used in college and a coat. The pack is small enough to fit easily in the plane/train/bus overhead compartment or even under the seat, and it holds enough for travelling. It has a waist strap to keep it from bouncing, and I can wear it and walk away or ride a bike.

So I just moved out of the USA. I'll be spending the indefinite future living here in Paris and part of the year in Lausanne, Switzerland and some in Montreal, Quebec. With that though in mind, I packed like an overpacked family going on a weeklong family vacation. Basically I brought with me nearly everything I still own minus the storage unit full of books and other things in the desert. And I brought the cowboy hat.

My gf dropped me and my luggage off at the airport. It was around 5 am and there were already a lot of people there. I was kind of ashamed of having so much stuff. It was too cumbersome and awkward to carry by hand in one trip between the drop off point to airport check in and ticketing so I needed a buggy to move it.

Hey people, no i'm not taking a weekend trip to Lake Tahoe. I'm making a permanent trans-atlantic move and what you see piled on this cart in these 4 bags and 1 carry-on are now my only worldly posessions.

The ticket agent weighed it all, and with the jansport bag and the rest of my stuff, including a bicycle and mountaineering gear, my luggage weighed 221 pounds (around 100 kilos). That was my exact body weight when I was doing body building. 4 bags of stuff and 1 carry-on is now all I own. It almost completely filled the backseat of a small parisian taxi.

Going through security was nerve wracking since I was carrying a gram of heroin dissolved in a Visine bottle. The weight of my Visine was under 3 ounces, so it was unlikely that it would be checked. As you might guess, I never fully quit heroin before leaving San Francisco. I worked it down to once every few days with kratom in between. Not that I was going to get horrible WDs, but with the stress and sleep deprivation, the thought of not having access to something that was almost guaranteed to cheer me up for a while -- i wanted something to look forward too. (I would never try this going back to the US.)

By the end of the first leg of the flight ( to Iceland), I couldn't bear to sit still any longer. It had been a 12? hour transcontinental/transatlantic flght where neither food nor water were served. My legs were twitching as though I were about have a fit. My nose and eyes were running and I felt horribly depressed and exhausted. My teeth hurt. My back hurt. I ached all over. I was getting a bad cold. I was feeling bad. I didn't think this was withdrawals - I was genuinely exhausted and sick with a cold.

I was too scared to try it in the lavotory of the plane. I imagined the Air Marshall, an undercover armed guard, getting suspicious and breaking down the door of the airplane toilet to see what i was doing with my fingers pinching my nose and an empty Visine bottle with brown residue inside it. So I waited until the plane landed in Iceland.

That dropper of heroin was in my backpack in the clear quartsized ziplock bag reserved for liquids. So, but I went into the bathroom at the Iceland airport, before Customs, and squirted it all up my nose, emptying the bottle in 2 massive squirts, one for each nostril. I hold my head back for a few minutes, then pinch my nostrils, let go, and suck up anything that dripped. Within minutes, my teetth stop hurting. my guts stop hurting. Everywhere, the pain is gone. I went through customs and everything was OK. This would hold me over until France.

Mild opiates can be bought without a prescription at most pharmacies here. Take enough of them, say 2 or 3 boxes of sthing like codeine or ethylmorphine (around 600 mg), and you can get a nice buzz.

to be continued.....

This week is business as usual. Forty five hour work weeks back to back to back. It wouldn't be so bad if it were not for the fact that my days are split into doubles, giving me the hours I need but taking up my entire day in the process. This leaves me with very little free time. I guess when you work in the food service industry these kind of things just come with the territory. I know I can not live the rest of my life slaving away in a kitchen, never really going anywhere. I wish that I could be more passionate about the work that I do but after working in restaurants for more then a decade now, I feel physically and mentally drained. Going back to school seems to be the only solution to my problem. I just have no idea what other career options would suit me. Deep down I know that I was meant to do something much more meaningful then this.

When asked what my interests or passions are, the only things that really come to mind are nature and animals. I am not the most social individual when it comes to talking/relating with other human beings. I can be on the rare occasion I am in the mood, but most of the time I like to keep to myself and my thoughts. It is like I am living in the same universe as everyone else around me but on a different dimension. I read that in "Water for Elephants", the book I am currently reading and it really stood out to me. I like to tune everything out while I am at work. Just put in my headphones and try to go about my day ignoring all of the gossip, stress, and meaningless bullshit that I have to listen to on a regular basis. It helps but I can still feel the tension. I guess that is one way to describe it, or the way that I perceive it at least.

So much work comes with trying to start over. I wish I could sell all of my belongings and move somewhere that I could just live off the land and be one with nature and all that. this to me seems very unrealistic. I would not last a day as I have never had to hunt for food, seek shelter, deal with the elements without a solid roof over my head, etc. I don't know much, but I do know one thing for sure. I can't go on living this way.

Bluelight I feel better than I have in a long time. Maybe my entire life. I have finally been able to put a clamp on the self hate. I am not saying I love myself but I do at least like myself. That's a pretty nice start I think. I went out last night for new years and had a pretty great time. Met 3 new interesting people in this new city. Found some "molly" off a guy that was some kind of stim but it was still fun. I then got to sing while my buddy played keyboard. I am horrible but holy fuck was it fun! 2014 was rough got arrested, went to rehab, had a horrendous suboxone kick then relapsed 2 hours off the plane and was right back on sub a month later. Disaster so it seemed! But it wasn't. My lawyer used his magic to get the judge to dismiss my case since I went. Then I was able to move in with a family member my same age. Then I started feeling like this! I read somewhere that males brains don't fully develop until 26. I am thinking that's what has happened. I don't understand what else it could be? I was depressed for like 10 years 4 suicide attempts 2 which where very for real not a cry for help or anything. I don't take SSRI I am on same dose of sub. But I am just not going to overanalyze a great thing. I have to thank my friends from this site who have helped me through the rough times. It made a bigger difference than you will ever probably realize! I have big plans for 2015 that I wont ramble on about. I think its gonna be the best year of my life.



Happy New Years Bluelight

I want to live for the crowd on the outside rooting for my demise.
I want to live for the voice in my head.
I want to live for the ones who cant.
I want to live for the highs.
I want to live for the lows.
I want to live for the rush.
I want to live for the comedown.
I want to live for the balance I am trying to find.
I want to live for the excess I want to leave behind.
I want to live for the sunshine.
I want to live for rain.
I want to live for the pain.

Fuck where do I start? So I guess it happened again didn't it? I was so sure I was done this time. I told so many people that I actually started to believe my own propaganda. I thought hey you know with the suboxone, hash, lsd, people who care about me. I thought shit could be different this time. Fuck you know, I wanted to believe it was possible! But sadly it's not.

I feel like writing a treatise on where it all went wrong. How fucking defeated I feel. How I never asked to put on this miserable planet. How I fuck up everything good in my sorry ass excuse for a life. I had this stupid fucking idea when I was younger that the consequences of my actions could be hand waved away through some superior power of intelligence or sheer rationalization that I thought I could summon at will. Yeah supreme delusions of grandeur. I can't claim ignorance. The evidence was right in front of my face. The consequences of my actions piling up like dead bodies down the street, everyone a little closer to home but still far enough away to say "ok it stops here, no further I got this". Before I knew it they where all piled up at the front door.

At first it was subtle peoples attitude toward me changed. Relatives who once talked to me didn't. I started hearing that I wasn't invited to events I was previously would have been. "Whatever I didn't want to go anyway". Then I start hearing the whispers "he always looked tired. What's wrong with his eyes?" Then I start losing my cool, a rig left out here, blood on a towel there,cookers in my room, bags full of used rigs, bank account overdrawn. Shit no more cards to play game over motherfucker.

Then people started using terms I wasn't comfortable with. Junky, IV drug abuser, poly drug addict, relapse, rehab, arrest, relapse, tough love, enabled, higher power, 12 steps, treatment resistant, maintenance. This whole new vocabulary of bullshit that now defines my existence. I'm now locked into this cycle that I have no idea how to break. All these definitions I don't agree with now define my life.

What sucks is that my decisions caused this to happen. It really didn't have to be like this. I could have said "nah man I'm not gonna tempt fate and shoot smack".Or "that was cool but never again". It's even worse that it was so many little decisions over the years that led me to this moment. I "can't say well fuck I made a mistake.". More like a series of colossal fucking errors that continue across ten years. And the worst part is I can't say it did not go exactly to plan. No fucking coincidences or accidents here. Got everything I wanted before I realized I didn't really want it t all.

K.FLAY - CRAZYTOWN
Did you ever think that just maybe,
We're supposed to be a little bit crazy,
Can it be? We're really this mentally diseased?

OCD narcissistic, manic depressive slit your wrists
Hyperactive ADD, generalized anxiety
Drug addicts, agoraphobic Panic attacks,
we're all just so sick In the head,
need medicine quick
Gotta stock up on prescription slips
Had a breakdown of a nervous kind
Pop a little xanax to unwind
Paranoid schizo half the time
Bipolar and borderline
Way fucked up when it comes to sex
Shit dick cunt that's tourette's
Stay in bed, we're too depressed
Post traumatic stress effects
Bulimics barf, anorexics starve
Fast food binge inside our cars
Multiple personalities
Like hi it's I, myself, and me
We got trichotillomaniacs
And autistic braniacs
All insaney to the max
So doped up on prozac packs
Histrionic plus delusions
Tangled dendrites, mad confusion
Klepto narcoleptic
All psych wards so antiseptic
Take your Zoloft, Paxil
Wellbutrin, Cymbalta,
homie!
What you using?
Ativan and Lexapro
Don't act like you do not know

Did you ever think that just maybe
We're supposed to be a little bit crazy
Can it be?
We're really this mentally diseased?

As I stare at an ink blot
Thinking why I think the thoughts I think
Paying 20 g's a year straight to my shrink
To analyze me on a couch
And while he's zoning out
I'm tuning in to my inner child
So that explains why I get wild
On the weekend drinking no tomorrow
Sleep around to ease my sorrow
And it all relates to what happened in second grade
I am told there is a name for what is wrong inside my brain
And that fact alone makes me feel like I'm hardly that insane
I've undergone psychoanalysis
My dreams all full of phalluses
Psychotropics I imbibe
So happy to be prescribed
What I get from Pfizer's not much different from Budweiser
In the end, you and I just fated to pretend

<a target="_blank" href="http://www.lyricsera.com/1135520-lyrics-crazytown.html" title="K.FLAY - CRAZYTOWN lyrics">K.FLAY - CRAZYTOWN [http://www.LyricsEra.com]</a></pre>

i realize that i created this blog by accident. please if an administrator or moderator could; delete it for me: i can't. i will create different blogs as time goes on but for now i'm just doing a diary blog. thanks!

Day one of the diary- monday february 2015

so today was a good day. i woke up around 5 am; pretty early. i played some of my PS game "the last of us". then most of the day was spent driving around town to go to our appointments. me and my dad went to see our psychiatrist who has been very supportive in giving us thousand dollar samples of abilify; because we can't pay for them. i also had a long talk with one of the social workers about my interest in becoming an MDMA therapist; she gave very posative responses and i shared with her how LSA effected me therapeutically. we also talked about the MAPS study with ASD and MDMA and my psychiatrist mentioned that he knew the danforth family (alicia danforth was the one conducting the MAPS study with ASD and MDMA. overall it actually made me feel better that i got posative feedback from most of the people who i talked to about it; overall i talked to about 5 different people and most people had posative responses and were surprised when i told them of the study. we also went out to eat and got mcdonalds; i stole tea by ordering a water but ended up having to pay for it because i got caught. it put me in a bad mood at first but i forgot about it later on. mostly it was the look the manager gave me; its not like i was commiting major theft. just three cups of tea; though i admit it was rude and stuff so i kinda understand. right now i'm hitting a strong and harsh nicotine vaporizer that tastes pleasantly like cigars; i love cigars but i very rarely smoke and when i do i always vape. i' am also seriously craving a NICE big FAT blunt oh for gods sake i could seriously go for some WEED! but no.. i don't even have resin in the pipes. i should have saved the resin lol. but that's my one complaint about today; dry on weed.

day two- Tuesday

Day two; well the cats woke me up with their incessant meowing; their lucky i love them. after petting them for hours i finally decided they had enough and it was time to bluelight away! so i got on; edited some stuff; posted some stuff; and officially applied for the NMI moderator job. hope i get it!!!!

we're getting ready to go pay bill. will tell you guys how everything goes down. (update) today was busy. we got all our bills paid. now i'm just bluelighting and maybe going to skype and facebook for a bit on the side: kinda boring out in the middle of nowhere. but i has my bluelight to keep me occupied; as well as shroomery and of course world of warcraft and other videogames.

My personal opinion on the legal/societal aspect of harm reduction is all recreational drugs should be regulated in similar manners to alcohol and tobacco. It would cut down on the organized crime and violence associated with the black market drug trade. It would keep non-violent drug users out of prisons, where they may learn to become violent criminals. It would regulate the purity of the substances, reducing the possibility of overdose, etc.

I also think extensive, well-run, high quality addiction rehabilitation and harm reduction systems should be readily and affordably available to those wishing to manage an uncontrollable and/or harmful addictive disorder. These programs could even be funded by taxation of recreational substances.

I tend to feel harm reduction techniques are ways to keep people who are dangerously addicted alive until they reach a point where they want/can quit. I feel in my life a huge harm reduction aid was the ability to have weekly psycho-therapy sessions while I was still using.

Most therapists require drug users be clean before starting therapy, however if one is using drugs to self-medicate mental disorders in the first place then it seems only logical that the mental disorders should at least begin to be examined before the individual quits drugs.

Now it is true that it is rarely possible to get an accurate diagnosis of psychological disorders when an individual is using any mind altering chemicals regularly, however a therapist (that is an individual with a Master's degree in psychology or social work) cannot legally give an official diagnosis anyway. That can only be done by psychologists (individuals with a Ph.D or Psy.D) or psychiatrists (individuals with an M.D.). Therapists are there to offer empathic listening, moral support, positive feedback, and encouragement. There is absolutely no reason why current drug users should be denied this kind of service. And yet they usually are.

Quitting drugs is easier if you understand why you use in the first place. A therapist can help you analyze your motivations for drug use, and come to terms with the possibly painful and brutal realities behind your use before you actually give up the security blanket of drug use you have been clinging to. A therapist can help gently ease the security blanket from your clutches as opposed to wrenching it away from you before you even know why you cling to it.

Disclaimer: please note that I have never studied physics, quantum physics, math or anything that I am talking about here. If this theory doesn't make sense that is probably why. I am not educated in these topics but find them fascinating.

Everything is energy. Nothing is solid, nothing is "matter"--just look at "matter" under a powerful microscope and you see it is made up of other tiny particles. Magnify those particles and you will see that they are made of even tinier particles. Nothing is truly "solid." Everything is energy and is constantly in a state of motion and change even if it appears solid and stable.

Math dictates what happens to energy. Everything is a mathmatical equation. There is nothing that happens randomly. There are always equations that logically explain everything that happens. It is not always apparent to us the cause of every event because the equations that go into moving energy happen not only on a grand and obvious scale but also on a sub-atomic scale that we cannot percieve.

Basically I am talking about cause and effect. Everything is cause and effect. Even though we cannot always percieve the cause becuase we cannot see things that happen on a sub-atomic or cellular or tiny-particle level without the aid of powerful tools.

If we could see all the mathmatical equations that go into how energy is moved then we could predict and manipulate the future. Mere humans are not capable of such perception however.

That is my theory. I am not saying this is fact or this is definately how the universe works, but I'm saying there is a strong possibility that this theory has some merit. Let me know what you think.

"Wake up young man it's time to wake up your love affair has got to go for 10 long years for ten long years the leaves to rake up slow suicides no way to go blue clouded grey your not a crack up dizzy and weakened by the haze"
"The cracks and lines from where u gave up they make an easy man to read for all the times u let them bleed u for little piece from God u plea and beg from little plea" damn those lyrics always hit me so hard rest in peace layne..

It started Tuesday 12/21/'10. I bought about $50 worth of heroin which I injected in three spaced out shots. I took Klonopin later that night to get some sleep.

I woke up on Wednesday and did 3 hits of good blotter acid. Tripped all day. In the evening I took 80 mg. of Dexedrine then went and shot more dope with my friends ($20 worth).

On thursday I did another 80 mg. of dexedrine and tweaked all day. I took 7 mg. of Klonopin that night to sleep.

On friday I got three 60 mg. instant release morphine pills, I did 15 mg. IV that day.

On saturday (xmas) I woke up and shot the remaining 45 mg. of morphine. I slept saturday night all the way until sunday night. Then I shot another 30 mg. of morphine. Later I took more Klonopins and went back to sleep.

I got up at 3 am Tuesday and did 105 mg of Dexedrine PO. At 2 pm I took 3 mg of klonopin and 60 more mg of dexedrine. At 9 pm I took 5 mg of klonopin. Shortly thereafter I went to a bar an drank 2 long island ice teas.

At 2 am Wedensday (an hour ago) I took 75 mg. of Dexedrine.

This is the craziest drug binge I've been on in years, so I thought I'd share. It's a goddamn miracle I'm not dead with the shit I do.

Dear drug dealers you'd get alott more of my service if I could use a card I do not appreciate atm fees to get cash to pay u guys

Cars Are Not for Junkies

Waiting for My Man

See the hole open as I nail it home. Intercourse with the intravenous penis as it drilled and filled my vein.

More more more!!

Best night in a long time. I haven't felt so content in so long I partied which I never do anymore I've been too sick and depressed to leave my home it felt good to get out last night and go drink and I'm so proud of myself for not drinking the next day