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Fuck a duck, past few days I've really needed time off from every aspect of normal life. It's great to just spend some time having fun cooking and being stoned. Unfortunately, the CD folks choose this moment in time to go haywire and be all posting off-topic and shit so today's just been drinking coffee and figuring out how to do damage control. I'm not really sure how exactly other mods internalize their approach toward their own respective subforums, but for me I like being ordered and sticking to a scheme/theme once I commit to it. By the same measure, this is how people choose leaders. Should Obama have gotten a second term in office? Maybe not, but it's par for the course because it's human desire to give a person time to at least accomplish some of their objectives instead of replacing them at the first chance and risking the chaos/upheaval that naturally comes with transition periods. I think humanity just has a tendency to think in terms of damage control and choosing the scenarios that stand the best chance of not going completely thermonuclear on failure.

Anyway, I'm not interested in putting any more thought into the workings of CD right now. Right now I have another issue to mull over: toking up. I've been on and off for a while, but when I'm on it's hard to get off and being off causes me to feel some serious ennui. It's really a shitty situation, because on one hand, there's nothing better than some herb to decompress, but on the other hand, I have so much shit to get done before 2015 that I can't afford to be decompressing on the daily like the herb tends to encourage. So... fack!!

Making matters worse is my lack of organization. It's different with my digital life, where I have to keep things organized to insulate against the threat of malware or hardware failures, but in my real life I don't even have that many valuable assets to secure so it's just a matter of inserting my car into the garage, keeping the front door locked and keeping the ol domicile clean, which TBPH is something that I mostly do for the benefit of visitors rather than for myself. In fact, I prefer as simple a life as possible just so that I can manage it all properly and not have to stress too much about annoyances like throwing out the trash regularly.

Is it fair to call me lazy if I'm not interested in building up a huge life because I don't want the responsibility of managing it? My friend has been making a huge deal lately about buying his own house. He's unmarried and plans to get his parents to cosign because that's the only way the bank will give him half a million bucks to buy a place and the mortgage payments are going to be $2k/mo. for a long, long time. Just hearing about it stresses me out. I can't imagine a commitment like that. He's OK with renting out most of the house to where the rent payments will cover the mortgage and he just needs to pay for utilities and repairs, but it's still going to require a lot of steady saving up if he wants to maybe consider marrying someone who might want to store shit in the occupied basement, or actually have guests use the guest room, or maybe want to cook naked in the kitchen without some random guy wandering through to grab an eyeful along with a bottle of gatorade. But then, cooking up far-fetched hypotheticals has always been my thing.

Personally, I just can't see it. As much as I would love a house of my own and a workshop where I can store/work on a car (I'm an incorrigible gearhead FYI), the idea of taking on massive debts and being chained to those obligations for decades is almost as bad to me as being told I'm going to prison. I've been trying to come to terms with the fact that I have to scale back my life and live pretty frugally to make due and live properly within my means in a way that doesn't inhibit me from packing my bags and taking off somewhere whenever I feel like it. But, I'm also a homebody so it's hard to just accept this existence as a transient, which is effectively what a person is considered if they don't subscribe to major commitments like mortgage and car loan payments. Maybe we need a new saying to replace "we are what we eat". How about: "we are how we spend our money"?

So uh... real talk. I don't know where I'm going with this but I've just had a disgusting slurry of cold-brewed coffee mixed up with hot decaf and I'm feeling like another cup of it with some salted pistachios because because... coffee... good... yes.
I've never worn a cowboy hat before because they are only appropriate for ranchers and rednecks, but I did live in a cabin in the high desert in eastern Oregon for a year. Before leaving San Francisco, I bought a Stetson cowboy hat. That and I brought a leather motorcycle jacket with me.

With those and the rest of my stuff, I brought 4 bags of luggage with me on the flight to Paris. That includes my bicycle and mountaineering gear. Total luggage weight was 223 pounds. 4 bags of stuff is now all I own. To picture this mass, it almost completely filled the backseat of a taxi. I needed a buggy to move it at the airport.

Going thorugh security was nerve wracking since I was carrying about a gram of heroin. I had dissovled it all in water and put the mixture in a Visine bottle. Sadly, 1 gram was still barely enough make me stop feeling crappy.

About 12 hours into the flight, I was feeling nasty. Even though I had tapered, heroin withdrawals were kicking in. I had actually smuggled some onto the flight in a Visine bottle, but I went into the bathroom at the Seatle and squirted it all up my nose. I was scared of going thorugh French Customs that I would be caught.



The airline fscked up the back wheel of my bike. It now has a slight wobble and rubs the brake pads. Before travelling, it was perfectly true. I'm going to file an insurance claim to get it replaced.

Codeine is converted to morphine by the enzyme CYP2D6 in the human liver. As any bluelighter must know, morphine is what makes you feel good by its action on mu opioid receptors in the pleasure centers of the brain. To help things, I chug some grapefruit juice which contains .... to inhibit the liver enzyme .... which steals your codeine if left unchecked. In large enough doses, codeine will get you high as heroin. The onset is a lot slower.

So later in the evening after getting off the plane, I put on a Brooks Brothers shirt and sweater, some khakis, my leather jacket, and my Stetson cowboy hat, . And went into a drugstore and bought a box of Tussipax tablets. They contain the opiates codeine and efthylmorphine. Each tablet contains about 15 mg of codeine and 10 mg of ethylmorphine. There are 20 tablets in a box. That totals to about 500 mg of good stuff. All for around 2 boners a box. They keep them behind the counter, and so I have to ask the pharmacist for what I want. I was sick as hell when I went in. I hadn't slept in 3 days, was exhausted from getting ready and nervous about having to move. I actually liked San Francisco. It's one place where you can surf in the morning, get on a train to a ski resort in South Lake Tahoe, and ski all in the same day. Plus, the natural beauty is spectacular.

Anyway, I felt %100 percent better after eating the box of codeine tablets. I felt alive again.

I'm surprised overall how few people here actually speak English. I've never been here before.... but I've read that everyone in Europe speaks English. Not true. Since July, I started learning french, studying a little each day. My method was to memorize a Petit Larousse dictionary that I found on the roadside in Paris the first day I arrived. I memeorized about 6000 words (about all of the non-jargon and non-technical words). The 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.

So to get what I want, I say in my broken french that I have a dry cough. She brings out the robotussein. No, I odn't want robo. I prefer codeine. It will help me sleep. I have jet lag because I just crossed 9 time zones. It's still yesterday where I'm from. She gets the tussipax. Then I go and do the same thing at a pharmacy on the next corner. Tehre is a pharmacy on every stgreet corner in Paris. Now I have about 1 gram of codein and ethylmorphine. That's enough to get a good nod.

As you might guess, I never fully quit heroin. I worked it down to once every few days. Technically, I'm no longer physically dependent, but I still like the stuff. The day before departure, I was packing.. I dissolved a couple grams of heroin in a Visine eye dropper bottle and stuck it in my carry on. (I would never try this going back to the USA because the imagration and customs officials are nasty fscking illiterate pieces of shit who harass everybody going into that toilet bowl of a country.) The weight was under 3 ounces, so it was unlikely they would check it. So I had a 4 hour layover in Rejkjevik Iceland after a 9 hour transcontinental/transatlanctic flght where neigher food nor water were served. I was hurting. I was too scared to try it in the lavotory of the plane. I was hurting so I go to the toilet and squirt a large bolus of dissolved heroin up my nose. I hold my head back for a few minutes, then pinch my nostrils, let go, and suck up anything that dripped. Within minutes, the pain is gone.



Last week I spent doing administrative things for setting up my work at the Institute. I'm going to set up a research lab working and getting used to my apartment

Drugstore Cowboy

So I put on my cowboy hat. I actually brought a wool Stetson cowboy hat with me. And go into the drugstore and buy boxes of Tussipax. They contain the opiates codeine and ethylmorphine. They keep them behind the counter, and so I have to ask the pharmacist for what I want. I'm surprised overall how few people here actually speak English. I've never been here before.... but I've read that everyone in Europe speaks English. Not true. Since July, I started learning french, studying a little while each day. My method was to memorize a Petit Larousse dictionary that I found on the roadside in San Francisco. I memeorized about 6000 words (about all of the non-jargon and non-technical words). The 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.


So I eat 2 boxes of tablets for about 600 mg of codeine total. It's slow to kick in, but once it does, the effect is similar to Mexican Brown tar heroin taken up the nose. Injected, heroin is like riding a rocket, but insulflated, it's mellow...



In some cases, my broken french is even better I eat a box of the tablets and feel good for a little while.


It's strange how freindly poeple are here. Especially when I wear a cowboy hat, it's obvious I'm a foreigner, and people will smile and say hello. I have no idea. Am I the Village Idiot that they take pity on or are they sincerely welcoming?



I ache all day and have a constant cold. I think I'm going to take a train to Amsterdam and buy some heroin, just so I can feel good for the first time in a month.
I am bored and intoxicated and my buddy just left to go get some pussy so i will write since i have no one else to hear me ramble.

My parents are from italy but i speak very little italian because when i was about 5 years old my dad said something like "we are american and we speak english in this house" which was weird because it was so sudden that i think something must have happened to him to cause that. my father was very big on trying to make sure we knew our roots and then suddenly we would get whipped for speaking out of english. this was in arkansas and our family was attacked constantly because we were the closest thing to a "minority" that most of these fucking hicks would ever see.

skipping forward. after being told i was a piece of shit my whole life i started to act like one. everyone talks about their college years. to me 6th grade was the shit. i started drinking, fucking older sluts and doing drugs when i was 12. it was fucking great.

13 years old i moved to chicago to live with my aunt because the state of arkansas was trying to send me to juvi. i finally felt like i belonged. i lived in an italian neighborhood and didnt feel so foreign in the land i was born in but after a while i realized there is a lot of elitism between wops. italians that were born in italy and moved here are fucking gods, wops who grew up in that neighborhood are 2nd class, and i am basically a mutt because i was raised down south. I was a "wopabily" The elitism that dagos from italy seem to have totally turned me off to the point where i actually turned down a free trip to Palermo.

i could tell a fuckload of "war stories" when it comes to drugs but you all have those. just felt like rambling and i dont really care if no one reads it.
So it looks like i'm going to get kicked off my methadone program because i didn't register my clonazepm. i'm only on 37mg so i don't think the detox will be so bad. I ended up overdosing on my clonazepam and my doctor at the hospital called my clinic and told them about what happened. So I expect to get kicked off. I just hope they give me a taper insted of just cutting me off at 37mg. That would kind of suck a lot. thats pretty much it. i hope they don't kick me off. [/SIZE]
last night after i blacked out jamal came to me and said

'DWE WHAT ARE YOU DOING GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER DAWG, I LOVE AND WILL SEE YOU WHEN U DIE"

i woke up wth an amazing hard on around 12 pm and fecked the shit out of my pillow
I just got me a job. It's 10 dollars an hour plus commission. the commission is really nice and all i have to do is talk to people. I don't get paid per sale, i get paid per demo. which means if i can talk the customer into letting our guys come out and demo our windows to them and give them a price quote, which is good for a year to the very date, i get the commission from it. it's nice and gives me a bright and optimistic outlook on life.
anyone else in qld australia come accross speedin rock form.pretty sure its meth thats stomped with msn.smokes ok,racks quite well too.any feedback apreciated
I'm really getting sick of no matter what I do. No matter who I'm texting. She always has to put her two cents in. I get reamed if I take 30 minutes out of my life to work on my website. Its really starting to piss me off. Her dad hates me. She is constantly up my ass. If my phone rings. She says who are you texting. Even if its just my fucking mom. She always has to ask. I have no freedom what so ever and its really getting fucking old. I can't take a shit without clearing it with her first. Vent over
Why should you hold stock with conspiracy theories? Because they're the simplest explanation for all the crappiness. It's Occam's razor, man.

The world is mostly easily painted as the product of someone's desires. The Illuminati are out there man!
This is my first blog post. My blog is going to be about my daily life. Since it's private and none of my friends or family know about it. I can post whatever I want here. I set my alarm clock everyday at 8am so I can wake up and get my fix. This morning I woke up a little on the sick side. Since I fell asleep early (9pm) last night, its been about 11 hours since i've had any opiates. That is probably why I feel a little more sick than usual. I started with 5MG of oxycodone, waited about 10 minutes and then crushed up 5 more MG of oxycodone. I feel right now. No withdrawal and no pain. I'm running a little bit low on my stash. I only have 5 left. With no cash to buy anymore. I have a few clients setup today to fix their computers, so I will have money later today to purchase some more. My hookup has 10MG perks for me to get. So that makes me happy. After Im done posting this blog entry, im going to go work on my personal website for a little bit. Maybe make some coffee, smoke a few cigerettes. Then my first computer repair appointment is at 11am EST. :p

I have been trying more and more to figure out how to get more visitors to my website. I have made so many websites that are failures in the past that I just want to take this one slow. Not sell anything. Just make it a website people can read from and then leave. Its probably the best way to start out. I couldn't think of a cool name, so i did an expiring now domain name search and found the domain http://realshit.org and thats the one that i decided to use. Sounds pretty cool. Im not really creating a target audience, which i know is a mistake. I should start out with a small targeted audience and then gradually expand in a year or so. Anywho, off to make my coffee. doesn't really matter to me if anybody reads my blog or not, im just posting it for personal record, and personal venting purposes. If you do read it, thanks and there will be more to come.
Figured I would just stick a few in a blog. That way they will always be here.

If you don't have anything nice to say, don't bother leaving a comment at all :P



​The 3 above pic are from my Outer Banks NC Vacation over Labor Day 2014.
I threw away my last 2 unfinished bags of syringes and filters and other drug gear in a random trash can in SF. There were sterile syringes, needles, cookers, tie-offs, .2 micron syringe filters, cotton balls, alcohol wipes, and ampules of saline. These were all left over from the heroin and other opiates I had been doing daily until a few weeks ago. Of course there wasn't any heroin left, but just getting rid of the gear had a feeling of finality to it.

I had mixed feelings as I did this. Shooting up dope has been, for the most part, fun for me. I enjoy the "stoned" feeling of being loaded on heroin. I even liked the raw rush of injecting a shot of heroin into my arm. I had to quit because I'm starting work again and need to be 100% focused. With heroin, there is too much down-time and getting motivated is more difficult. So while I'm working, I'll be too busy to do it. Heroin is for people with a lot of spare time and extra money. That and I don't want to deal with trying to find connections while in WDs in a foreign country.

On a completely unrelated note, I made my first San Francisco 911 call. I was on a walk in the Outer Sunset neighborhood, and I found an old man who seemed lost and confused and very sad. He said he had locked himself out of his apartment and I asked him which one and if he had anything with his address on it with him to prove where he lived.... I would have just called a locksmith for him or maybe his landlord, but as I talked to him, he seemed more and more "off" or confused. I waited outside his building with him until I saw paramedics approaching on the next street corner and I took off.
'Luther' recap: Season 2, Episode 1



'Luther' recap: Season 2, Episode 1
SPOILERS
Synopsis: As the body count rises, Luther must stop a murderer who wears a Punch mask and rescue a friend�s daughter.
Luther (Idris Elba) is back and returns to the police force in order to head up a special investigations unit.
To do this, he has brought his old partner Ripley out from his exile amid the lower ranks of the force, but also has to contend with a new addition to his team of DS Grey, who is played by Nikki Amuka-Bird.
Grey is suspicious of Luther�s methods and is under the impression that he is somehow dirty, and even asks Ripley what she should be on the look out for.
Returning to the series is Ruth Wilson as Luther�s mysterious friend Alice Morgan, who is locked in a secure facility and receiving treatment for mental illness.
Upon his return to the force Luther is ordered not to see her, but it isn�t long before he feels compelled to pay her a visit.
When a woman is brutally murdered in Spittlefields, Luther and his newly formed team start to investigate. The murder is caught on camera and the murderer has a flare for the theatrical as he stands arms wide in his Punch mask before the CCV camera after the act challenging the police to catch him.
Even more disturbing is the fact that the murderer has taken the trouble to call people on his victim's cell phone and leave cryptic messages. Guessing that the Punch mask that the murderer is using is fairly distinctive - the team use it as one of their leads.
Luther knows that this psychopath is doing it for theatrical affect and that he will murder again - a hunch that soon proves to be all too true when the killer strikes in daylight.
When Luther and team arrive on the scene, there are many people watching from the sidelines and as Luther goes out of his way to clear them, he spots a suspicious looking character that he proceeds to follow.
It�s the killer. After a foot chase, Luther loses the perpetrator and as he is about to leave the scene he gets jumped by the killer and a struggle takes place in which Luther manages to bite him and draws blood.
The killer does just enough to incapacitate Luther, but isn�t able to finish him and bolts just as Ripley and others from Luther�s team arrive. At this point Luther points out that he bit the killer and drew blood and gets a sample of the blood sorted out for DNA analysis.
Not content with one investigation, Luther agrees to help the widow of a man he put in jail when her daughter gets involved in the making of extreme pornography. Luther finds the girl and takes her into custody under suspicion of drugs and other trumped up charges he just made up to get her out of the situation.
While driving the girl to a safe house he gets a call from Ripley telling him that the DNA analysis has identified their killer. Luther drops the girl with his mate, who takes care of her while Luther goes to the station to meet his team and track down the perp. The trail leads to an art student who used to work with the suspect.
They bring her in for questioning, but get very little in the way of information other than the killer had an obsession with a character from Victorian folklore known as Spring-heeled Jack.
She revealed that this suspect who hung around with the art students was teased by his therapist about his obsession. Now having the killer's name, the team are able to track down his residence and they head to his flat only to find it empty with the exception of a single phone sat in the middle of the room.
The phone rings and Luther answers and winds up in conversation with the killer, who is talking about how indifferent modern people are to London�s history.
He talks about kids playing video games in which they murder prostitutes on Whitechapel and adds that he intends to scare them out of their indifference. Unfortunately the phone call is just 30 seconds short of Luther�s team being able to get a full trace.
The killer strikes once more and sends a live video feed to Luther and his team and has them witness him commit another murder. The team try to get a trace on where the crime is taking place via a partial car registration, but by the time they have an accurate location the murder is done and the killer has made his escape.
As the video stream of the murder closes the student, who Luther and his team had interviewed comes in to find out what�s happening. Luther asks Ripley and Grey to drive the girl home. As they arrive the girl asks DS Grey to walk up with her due to the fact that she is a bit worried. Grey walks the girl all the way to her home and makes sure she's safe, but a broken fuse temporally freaks her out.
After reclaiming her calm, Grey calls Ripley to let him know the girl is safe and shuts the curtains. In the car Ripley is waiting for Grey to come back down so they can head back to the station.
And the end credits roll just as Ripley catches sight of the killer in the Punch mask in the back seat of the car.
Idris Elba puts in a compelling performance as Luther and Ruth Wilson is pretty good as Alice, but doesn�t enjoy a great amount of screen time. The story was tense with some great location and camera work, which really set the scene and created some genuinely eerie moments.
Once Luther has identified the killer most would have thought he would have wrapped the case by the close of the hour, but this wasn�t the case. Instead we were treated to a somewhat shocking cliffhanger, which will definitely have me tuning in next week to find out what happens.
Having not seen the first season, I can�t say whether this season is better, but I would say that it is probably a bit soon to make that call anyway, but this series has got off to a great start.

- See more at: http://www.monstersandcritics.com/s...recap-season-2-episode-1#sthash.7Dn2fufE.dpuf



And of course I have found the perfect song for it.

Alice is kind of disappointing in this episode, but I know she will be back in a bigger way....I hope



"Phantom Of The Opera"




I've been looking so long for you now you won't get away from my grasp.
You've been living so long in hiding in hiding behind that false mask.
And you know and I know that you ain't got long now to last.
Your looks and your feelings are just the remains of your past.


You're standing in the wings, there you wait for the curtain to fall.
Knowing the terror and holding you have on us all.
Yeah, I know that you're gonna scratch me, maim me and maul.
You know I'm helpless from your mesmerising cat call.


Keep your distance, walk away, don't take his bait.
Don't you stray, don't fade away.
Watch your step, he's out to get you, come what may.
Don't you stray, from the narrow way.


I'm running and hiding in my dreams you're always there.
You're the Phantom of the Opera, you're the devil, you're just out to scare.
You damaged my mind and my soul it just floats through the air.
Haunt me, you taunt me, you torture me back at your lair.
NSFW:
[video=youtube_share;Akgo9X27Now]http://youtu.be/Akgo9X27Now[/video]​
all clear on the eastern front.

got that nasty iv coke run done with, just needed to run out of expendable income lol. I was getting some extra cash every week for awhile there, I think I just needed something to spend it on.

I'm doing much better now.
Last night I had multiple dreams of Jamal and me

I only have time for one right now

We we're driving down 5 free way up to Oakland after the day at the magical dolphin lake in Canuck land , to get some drugs and I was giving a hj and was laughing and I was smiling I felt the love I felt his cock I felt the warm ness of that night and his cum in my hand

Rip jbaby
Hi there, I need some relationship advice. If you read and respond it would be much appreciated.

So, my boyfriend and I have been together since August 2013.

How we met and how I became a heroin addict: We met by him being on the street, trying to make money, and by me seeing him around time and stopping to talk to him. I thought he was homeless and trying to get money for food and drugs, and wanted to help him by not giving him money, but instead giving him food, advice on how to get food stamps and somewhere to stay. I asked if he had an addiction problem like myself, so I could tell him off the local substance misuse place nearby for help. He denied. I exchanged numbers with him and told him (after seeing him quite a few times) that he could text me and come to mine to get off the streets and have a cooked meal and comfort. Of course, he wasn't really homeless, he just pretended to be so people would give him money so he could score heroin with.

I was at the time extremely depressed and suicidal, and one horrible night phoned him asking if he had any opiates (so I could try them before I died and then take an overdose. He didn't know of this of course.) Anyway, he finally started communicating with me properly and got to my house in 2 minutes! I told him I just wanted strong opiates, he put a small amount in intop of mine and picked up. He wouldnt say what it was for a long time, just 'some opiate' and finally admitted when I asked if it was heroin that it was indeed. He smoked the stuff though, and we smoked a small amount together. It numbed my depression out enough to put my suicide plan on hold, till I could needles. Days went on and we met up and smoked every single one of them. I didn't give a damn about my well being or being addicted due to losing my job, screwing up uni and the misery of fast tapering off benzos. My plan was to use and then one day soon take an OD. I just wish that just once, when I asked to get it, he had warned me how of how bad the wds are, and how if I thought my life was shit it was going to become 100 times worse. God damn. If anyone asked me for gear and didnt use, I would ask why they wanted to and try and help them instead of supply it to them without question. Especially if it was more than a one shot thing- I saw high everyday after I first smoked with him the 'opiate' and he never once said anything about how heroin has messed his life up and does it to pretty much everyone. I guess getting high was more important than looking out for someone else's best interests.

I'm wondering now if I should end it. I want to give up and am methadone, he is on it as well (thanks to me, although he has never thanked me for it). He says he wants to quit but won't go a day without heroin. He won't really talk to me unless its about heroin. He doesn't bother to make conversation with me about... Well.. Anything other than picking up, smoking heroin, money. I try and get him to engage in conversation other than this, but dont get a response other than a nod. I have realised that due to this, I often apologise for talking and go back to sitting in silence, waiting for the next smoke as we watch some crap tv.

I'm not even the most chattiest of people, have always been the listener in the past, but I am starting to yearn for a proper conversation, a friendly chat, anything! I want to do things other than smoke dark and occasionally cycle to pick up and get him some food.

I wish he would just give me a tiny amount of emotional support, as I try and do anything I can to help him. For example-nJust a hug or asking if Im okay after I saw my doctor this week, afterwards I met him and told him "that was horrible, he grilled me about made me explain every problem I've had since a kid". He nodded, not even looking at me, instead scanning who was around him which he always does in public, and eventually said something about picking up. (I was asked, like an interview, to tell my g.p about my problems with abuse as a kid, teen, adult, sexually and violently. Also on how I felt after a close family member died, my past domesticity violent bf that put up, being strangled out in the woods, everything bad with the g.p just asking the me the next topic). My bf knows of things such as my eating disorder, depression, PTSD and anxiety disorder but has never helped support me, other than getting smoke. I feel so guilty even saying that he doesn't but it's true..
I have been wanting to write this entry for a while now but every time I start I get a sentence or two in and stop. I just can't get it out into a thought I like the sound of. I feel like all my entries center on the same themes and I worry it's a symptom of the staleness that has enveloped my entire life.
I guess it starts with my geographical location on the planet. The thought of staying here doesn't excite me at all but the thought of leaving terrifies me to my core. I want to live somewhere happening somewhere with a good night life, liberal politics, and cheap pot. I have been thinking about seasonal work in Colorado. Maybe start in the summer season. I know running from my problems won't solve them. But going somewhere where I don't know the way to the dope mans house can't be a bad thing.

I feel a little better getting that out of my head. I'm gonna smoke a bowl and chill. I got more to say later.
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