You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an alternative browser.
You should upgrade or use an alternative browser.
Blogs
Filters
Show only:
Loading…
last time i went to a girl, and paid for sex, she had her period as it was happening.
i went and saw one last night, which was a few months after (i've had sex since, but not with an escort) the last time i did this, and she had also just started her period.
both were red-haired.
this one had a statue of Jesus, and Mary i think.
i was having an issue contacting her once i reached the destination, and got a little mad at God, as my previous attempt that night i went and tried to meet the girl, and her phone went straight to voice-mail, and at this point i considered that "God was trying to send me a sign", that this isn't what i was supposed to do. i didn't care. i basically said "fuck you, God, i'm doing what i want... let me fuck up on my own.". i was horny. and don't like to be told what to do.
She finally got back with me. Her girlfriends were in and out, or something, and there was distraction.
Rachel was her name, but Samantha was the name she advertised herself as. She was really nice. I wasn't as attracted to her as the last one, but she kissed me first, after I put my hand on her stomach, and gently came in contact. I tasted chemicals on her, things I am sensitive to- That burn my skin, and cause headaches, but I didn't let it stop me. I kissed her back. And again. She said I looked familiar. She said my voice sounded familiar, on the phone. Maybe this is just something they do. She didn't seem very familiar to me, but then again, not unfamiliar. She reminded me of people. She seemed to enjoy her time with me, and didn't rush me out/away, after finishing me off. I can't say I'm the ugliest of guys, but this still made me feel alright.
I left, and got back to where I lived, and saw people standing outside of the main entrance of the block where my unit is- my neighbors, and a friend of one of theirs- a strawberry blond girl. Mostly blond, but her complexion seems to say red-head. Her hair is honey colored. My neighbor Gina was wearing a red dress. And my upstairs neighbor, who lives right above me, I have already forgotten his name, but he was standing beside Gina, also dressed up, in a nice blue shirt, and khakis. The honey color haired girl's dog growled at me, as I approached. She is a puppy. This is the first time she has growled at someone, the girl said. The dog didn't growl at the other guy. She continually showed aversion to me, and hid behind the girl. In my heart, I know that I am not "good", so I wasn't offended. I know that I may not be "good". But neither are people. I think I had a certain energy disruption at the time. It was hard to bring words to the surface. I was messed up from the chemicals I ingested. I let my self be "bad", with the girl I was with. She went down on me. I went into it knowing she was on her period, which gives me some issue, knowing beforehand- not that I think there is a direct issue, but I contemplate the teachings of some religions that say not to engage with a woman sexually while on their period. I wrestle. And with this girl, after other play, she went down on me, and I put my hand down her back, and my fingers on her ass. I "completed a circle", her mouth on me, and my hand, that I usually use on me, my fingers on her anus. Not in. But it was as if I took control, having them there. Then I came.
Something about me felt "evil", doing that, though not. Dark, perhaps.
So that the dog seemed nervous around me. The girl with the honey colored hair said, when I did finally pet her, that I am not evil, and I said "I wouldn't say that", trying to be light about it (that everyone is evil, but it's how good we can be that matters), and that "He's not Satan or anything", at some point.
Soon the dog started acting like she had to use the bathroom, or dispose of something. She was lifting her legs in ways, and pacing. It stopped for a moment, this activity. Nobody else seemed to notice, that that I noticed, until the dog threw up a little in the grass, next to us. The girl stood up, worried about her. The others seemed worried, too. The dog then threw up exactly where the girl was sitting.
Then the dog was fine, and stopped shaking, as it was, and even seemed a little less nervous around me. I wonder if I caused it, or if it was more something that she ate, or it if all just went together.
i went and saw one last night, which was a few months after (i've had sex since, but not with an escort) the last time i did this, and she had also just started her period.
both were red-haired.
this one had a statue of Jesus, and Mary i think.
i was having an issue contacting her once i reached the destination, and got a little mad at God, as my previous attempt that night i went and tried to meet the girl, and her phone went straight to voice-mail, and at this point i considered that "God was trying to send me a sign", that this isn't what i was supposed to do. i didn't care. i basically said "fuck you, God, i'm doing what i want... let me fuck up on my own.". i was horny. and don't like to be told what to do.
She finally got back with me. Her girlfriends were in and out, or something, and there was distraction.
Rachel was her name, but Samantha was the name she advertised herself as. She was really nice. I wasn't as attracted to her as the last one, but she kissed me first, after I put my hand on her stomach, and gently came in contact. I tasted chemicals on her, things I am sensitive to- That burn my skin, and cause headaches, but I didn't let it stop me. I kissed her back. And again. She said I looked familiar. She said my voice sounded familiar, on the phone. Maybe this is just something they do. She didn't seem very familiar to me, but then again, not unfamiliar. She reminded me of people. She seemed to enjoy her time with me, and didn't rush me out/away, after finishing me off. I can't say I'm the ugliest of guys, but this still made me feel alright.
I left, and got back to where I lived, and saw people standing outside of the main entrance of the block where my unit is- my neighbors, and a friend of one of theirs- a strawberry blond girl. Mostly blond, but her complexion seems to say red-head. Her hair is honey colored. My neighbor Gina was wearing a red dress. And my upstairs neighbor, who lives right above me, I have already forgotten his name, but he was standing beside Gina, also dressed up, in a nice blue shirt, and khakis. The honey color haired girl's dog growled at me, as I approached. She is a puppy. This is the first time she has growled at someone, the girl said. The dog didn't growl at the other guy. She continually showed aversion to me, and hid behind the girl. In my heart, I know that I am not "good", so I wasn't offended. I know that I may not be "good". But neither are people. I think I had a certain energy disruption at the time. It was hard to bring words to the surface. I was messed up from the chemicals I ingested. I let my self be "bad", with the girl I was with. She went down on me. I went into it knowing she was on her period, which gives me some issue, knowing beforehand- not that I think there is a direct issue, but I contemplate the teachings of some religions that say not to engage with a woman sexually while on their period. I wrestle. And with this girl, after other play, she went down on me, and I put my hand down her back, and my fingers on her ass. I "completed a circle", her mouth on me, and my hand, that I usually use on me, my fingers on her anus. Not in. But it was as if I took control, having them there. Then I came.
Something about me felt "evil", doing that, though not. Dark, perhaps.
So that the dog seemed nervous around me. The girl with the honey colored hair said, when I did finally pet her, that I am not evil, and I said "I wouldn't say that", trying to be light about it (that everyone is evil, but it's how good we can be that matters), and that "He's not Satan or anything", at some point.
Soon the dog started acting like she had to use the bathroom, or dispose of something. She was lifting her legs in ways, and pacing. It stopped for a moment, this activity. Nobody else seemed to notice, that that I noticed, until the dog threw up a little in the grass, next to us. The girl stood up, worried about her. The others seemed worried, too. The dog then threw up exactly where the girl was sitting.
Then the dog was fine, and stopped shaking, as it was, and even seemed a little less nervous around me. I wonder if I caused it, or if it was more something that she ate, or it if all just went together.
As I stood on the knife edged mountain top eating an almond butter and honey sandwich, the air pressure seemed to drop and the wind began to howl in the trees around me. Soon, the tree tops were whipping around and bits and pieces of trees, sprigs of Douglas fir, twigs, small branches, and Old Man's Beard were blowing all over the place. An especially strong gust of wind slammed open the door to a ski patrol hut nearby. I could go in there for shelter, but I think I'll stand out here and take it all in. This snow storm was extra special because it came with thunder, and lightning was blasting the mountain top all around me. The wind was so strong ( 40 - 50 mph gusts imo) that it threatened to blow me down. It was so strong at the mountain top that it reminded me of hurricanes I'd been in. I put on my sun glasses, pulled down my balaclava, and began peeling an orange. Bring it.
By the time I had finished my lunch, the wall of snow had blotted out the 2nd mountain from me. Soon, it was over the valley directly below. And then it began snowing so heavily that I couldn't see more than 100 feet. I didn't want to do any more downhill runs because I couldn't see the moguls under these conditions. With my telemark skis, I usually wipe out on the moguls if I can't see far enough ahead to plan. Alpine skis or even a set of alpine-telemark bindings (heel latched down) would be ideal for the downhill part because I never fall in them. So I headed for the Canyon Loop, a trail that follows the rim of a 5000 foot canyon and eventually connects with a network of 100s of miles more trails. Everything was now whited out and I could only see a few hundred feet. So much for the spectacular vistas across the canyon. And of course I couldn't see any of the trail markers during such heavy snow. But, I memorized a topographical map of the area before I left home so finding my way shouldn't be a problem.
I started on Canyon Loop Trail and within minutes, I began hearing people following me. They were talking loudly and occasionally shouting as they crashed through the underbrush. It sounded like they kept going off the trail. Who would be out here in a snow storm? Other than myself, I've never met anyone who enjoys these conditions and seeks them out. And this place is remote. Even on a clear day, I've never seen anyone here. For nearly 10 miles of skiing, I could hear them every few minutes. By now, I was way out along a partially forested ridge, but the voices were still behind me. I could make out a word or phrase every now and then but never a full sentence and nothing that made sense. I felt like the Jack Nickolson character in the Shining. It's been a while, but wasn't he hearing the former occupants of the deserted hotel during the blizzard? It didn't seem appropriate that I was now hearing here because I never heard voices when I've skied at the real Timberline (on Mt. Hood in Oregon, the site of fictional Overlook Hotel where the Shining was filmed) -- when I lived in Portland, my gf and I would ski there on the weekends...
I went on exploring for another hour or so. When I heard them, I'd pause sometimes and turn aroudn. Nothing. Now it was still snowing too heavily to see anyting --- Nobdy was there and they finally quieted down, but I could almost sense somebody through the snow and trees. Maybe Grady was out there ready to serve me a drink. Or maybe the bathtub woman ready to do her thing. So this time, I back-tracked, staying in the ski tracks I'd just made and then hid in some bushes along the path. I waited in the bushes to see if I can spot them. Nothing. I got back on the trail. Anyway, I went to the north end of the ridge which seemed like a good place to turn around. It had snowed this whole time, and finally it was stopping. The ridge ended in a 5000 foot cliff. The next mountain was visible across the eastern end of the valley, but the storm was still on the western half. What I took to be the continuation of the trail seemed to get lost in a tangled clear-cut farther along the ridge.
There was a thread of a river below. Good spot to pee. How far will it go in the wind? Can I hit the river? That was fun, maybe I'll bring a golf club and a bag of golf balls during the summer.
I was hungry again. Here, I ate my dinner sitting on my haunches on the overlook enjoying the fantastic view. Meanwhile, the snow had covered my ski tracks except those I'd made during the last mile or so. I was kind of annoyed that I wouldn't be able to track the people who had been following me. But on my return trip, my tracks were still visible in some spots where they had been sheltered by denser forest or bluffs. My tracks were always the only ones there.
By the time I had finished my lunch, the wall of snow had blotted out the 2nd mountain from me. Soon, it was over the valley directly below. And then it began snowing so heavily that I couldn't see more than 100 feet. I didn't want to do any more downhill runs because I couldn't see the moguls under these conditions. With my telemark skis, I usually wipe out on the moguls if I can't see far enough ahead to plan. Alpine skis or even a set of alpine-telemark bindings (heel latched down) would be ideal for the downhill part because I never fall in them. So I headed for the Canyon Loop, a trail that follows the rim of a 5000 foot canyon and eventually connects with a network of 100s of miles more trails. Everything was now whited out and I could only see a few hundred feet. So much for the spectacular vistas across the canyon. And of course I couldn't see any of the trail markers during such heavy snow. But, I memorized a topographical map of the area before I left home so finding my way shouldn't be a problem.
I started on Canyon Loop Trail and within minutes, I began hearing people following me. They were talking loudly and occasionally shouting as they crashed through the underbrush. It sounded like they kept going off the trail. Who would be out here in a snow storm? Other than myself, I've never met anyone who enjoys these conditions and seeks them out. And this place is remote. Even on a clear day, I've never seen anyone here. For nearly 10 miles of skiing, I could hear them every few minutes. By now, I was way out along a partially forested ridge, but the voices were still behind me. I could make out a word or phrase every now and then but never a full sentence and nothing that made sense. I felt like the Jack Nickolson character in the Shining. It's been a while, but wasn't he hearing the former occupants of the deserted hotel during the blizzard? It didn't seem appropriate that I was now hearing here because I never heard voices when I've skied at the real Timberline (on Mt. Hood in Oregon, the site of fictional Overlook Hotel where the Shining was filmed) -- when I lived in Portland, my gf and I would ski there on the weekends...
I went on exploring for another hour or so. When I heard them, I'd pause sometimes and turn aroudn. Nothing. Now it was still snowing too heavily to see anyting --- Nobdy was there and they finally quieted down, but I could almost sense somebody through the snow and trees. Maybe Grady was out there ready to serve me a drink. Or maybe the bathtub woman ready to do her thing. So this time, I back-tracked, staying in the ski tracks I'd just made and then hid in some bushes along the path. I waited in the bushes to see if I can spot them. Nothing. I got back on the trail. Anyway, I went to the north end of the ridge which seemed like a good place to turn around. It had snowed this whole time, and finally it was stopping. The ridge ended in a 5000 foot cliff. The next mountain was visible across the eastern end of the valley, but the storm was still on the western half. What I took to be the continuation of the trail seemed to get lost in a tangled clear-cut farther along the ridge.
There was a thread of a river below. Good spot to pee. How far will it go in the wind? Can I hit the river? That was fun, maybe I'll bring a golf club and a bag of golf balls during the summer.
I was hungry again. Here, I ate my dinner sitting on my haunches on the overlook enjoying the fantastic view. Meanwhile, the snow had covered my ski tracks except those I'd made during the last mile or so. I was kind of annoyed that I wouldn't be able to track the people who had been following me. But on my return trip, my tracks were still visible in some spots where they had been sheltered by denser forest or bluffs. My tracks were always the only ones there.
Picking up several months after my 20-year reunion with Crystal Meth....I will write about those first weeks later...the 25g needles and eyeballing doses and no triple antibiotic...right at this moment, I am finishing the latest bout of explosive diorreah, Twenty hours after a .5g IV dose.
The dose went poorly...I registered on the second stick....but lost it at 1/2 the dose. I stuck myself until I got the rest in, but the lesson was put down the rig and enjoy the rush.
Interestingly, this was the day before my 50th birthday, now 48 minutes gone by.
The dose went poorly...I registered on the second stick....but lost it at 1/2 the dose. I stuck myself until I got the rest in, but the lesson was put down the rig and enjoy the rush.
Interestingly, this was the day before my 50th birthday, now 48 minutes gone by.
Picking up several months after my 20-year reunion with Crystal Meth....I will write about those first weeks later...the 25g needles and eyeballing doses and no triple antibiotic...right at this moment, I am finishing the latest bout of explosive diorreah,
Man I'm beat such a long day at work for me its getting so dam busy can't keep up. So sore and hate the feeling of my feet being wet in my boots all day all I wana do is snort some bupe and have a bath probably smoke some hash and watch "house" on netflix. I screwed up my taper off suboxone after I got a bad tooth dealt with and I've been in alot of pain along with my back just killing me from doing this hard job of mine day in and day out. I really need to think of something else to do for the moment anyways that's not so physically demanding and hard on your body. I think I may have another job lined up with the same company that's not so physical but I'll see how it goes there's nobody to replace me yet.
Fuck I hate my neighbours I live above this gash in a fourplex who is always complaining to the landlord about me and my mom saying were too loud with the tv and we slam the door in the mornings , don't give her privacy and put too much trash in the can blah blah blah fuck off lady geez some people just have no lives so they fuck with others. I wish I could own my very own home already instead of renting but that's not likely in this day and age.
I have been working with my lawyer to get some of my dads money from his will though so I got my fingers crossed about that
My dad died in January and the bastard didn't even mention his two kids in his will he did everything he could to make sure his family would get none of his riches when he died and while he was alive. Its just been mind boggling to me seeing everything he did just how selfish he really was like he used to do stuff like make his side of the bed but not my moms and when I needed hearing aids at age 4 cause I couldn't hear or talk yet he refused to buy then because he wanted to buy himself an airplane to put in the garage so I went without hearing until my mom wrote a letter to a charity and they paid for a new pair of hearing aids thank god for my mom she would do anything for her kids which is why I return the favour and I'm taking care of her now that she's sick.
Im Glad I was able to pull myself back out of my last relapse when my dad died and I found out just how much he really hated me it was hard to accept that's for sure had a lot of anger and still do today. I mean it was such a shake I had to grow up without a dad while he lived just down the road in our old family home most of the time while we moved from shitty apartment to even shittier apartments all the time cause we were so poor with no food and a mom who was going crazy. At one point we were even homeless and my dad had a few million to his name the whole time I just can't imagine doing that to my kids letting them suffer like that. He eneve even knew what I looked like didn't even want a picture of me. I've worked out in the gym while he was next to me and he had no clue who I was or if he did he ignored me
Really hope something good comes out of this and easier times are ahead for us we deserve it its not fair his new girlfreid gets everything and gets rich while me the son who had to support his mental sick mother since age 14 because my dad wanted to do his own thing ends up with nothing. Nope I'm definitely fighting that I'm lucky to live in a part of the world where any will can be changed if the court sees good reason for it.
Well I'm off to bed another long day ahead of me tomorrow at least it'll be Friday. Thanks for reading
Fuck I hate my neighbours I live above this gash in a fourplex who is always complaining to the landlord about me and my mom saying were too loud with the tv and we slam the door in the mornings , don't give her privacy and put too much trash in the can blah blah blah fuck off lady geez some people just have no lives so they fuck with others. I wish I could own my very own home already instead of renting but that's not likely in this day and age.
I have been working with my lawyer to get some of my dads money from his will though so I got my fingers crossed about that
My dad died in January and the bastard didn't even mention his two kids in his will he did everything he could to make sure his family would get none of his riches when he died and while he was alive. Its just been mind boggling to me seeing everything he did just how selfish he really was like he used to do stuff like make his side of the bed but not my moms and when I needed hearing aids at age 4 cause I couldn't hear or talk yet he refused to buy then because he wanted to buy himself an airplane to put in the garage so I went without hearing until my mom wrote a letter to a charity and they paid for a new pair of hearing aids
thank god for my mom she would do anything for her kids which is why I return the favour and I'm taking care of her now that she's sick. Im Glad I was able to pull myself back out of my last relapse when my dad died and I found out just how much he really hated me it was hard to accept that's for sure had a lot of anger and still do today. I mean it was such a shake I had to grow up without a dad while he lived just down the road in our old family home most of the time while we moved from shitty apartment to even shittier apartments all the time cause we were so poor with no food and a mom who was going crazy. At one point we were even homeless and my dad had a few million to his name the whole time I just can't imagine doing that to my kids letting them suffer like that. He eneve even knew what I looked like didn't even want a picture of me. I've worked out in the gym while he was next to me and he had no clue who I was or if he did he ignored me
Really hope something good comes out of this and easier times are ahead for us we deserve it its not fair his new girlfreid gets everything and gets rich while me the son who had to support his mental sick mother since age 14 because my dad wanted to do his own thing ends up with nothing. Nope I'm definitely fighting that I'm lucky to live in a part of the world where any will can be changed if the court sees good reason for it.
Well I'm off to bed another long day ahead of me tomorrow at least it'll be Friday. Thanks for reading
April 27.
This journal entry is a few days old. I originally wrote it in "gedit," a Generic EDITor much like the Windows Notepad text editor, because I didn't have internet access when I wrote it. Gedit and offline is where most of my blog entries stay, but I wanted to share this one for a change -- this is the first time in a few weeks that I did something other than study, hunt for mushrooms, or work on projects.
I have bad genes. I've had the tendency to put on weight since I turned 25 years old. I mean that if I don't exercise hard at least 5 days a week, I will get fat, and this predisposition has gotten worse the older I've become. It starts with a small pot belly. Then comes chin "waddle," a bloated face, and a bigger pot belly. Finally comes the overall potato-shaped decrepitude that is so typical of Americans nowadays. How do I know this about myself? I looked in the mirror one day and, to my horror and disgust, noticed that I was fat. I was sickened on an even deeper level by my lack of self-discipline and will power and my overall moral failure in letting this happen. I had fought it off in its early stages several times before, but this was the worst it's ever been. I think I was 31 years old that day. What was so surprising is that I had been bicycling 50 - 75 miles per week and lifting weights at the time. I couldn't believe it had happened. Until then, that had been enough exercise to keep fit. So that left me with two choices: diet or more exercise. Or suicide. I like to be able to eat whatever I want and hate restricting calories. If I want a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream one day, I will have it. That rules out dieting. And I wanted to live and try to do something worthwhile during my lifetime in this world -- I was working toward my PhD in grad school at a world class university training to be a neurobiologist and wanted to help advance humanity's understanding of the neural substrates of consciousness. I thus chose to pile on more exercise and was able to take care of my weight problem within a few months. Over the years, to maintain my interest in exercise, I began to "cross-train" or alternate between different sports.
Exercise physiologists tell us that cross country skiing burns more calories than almost any other sport: about 800 - 900 calories per hour, give or take 100 or so depending on intensity. So during a typical day of skiing one might burn 5000 calories. Given an average 2000 calorie per day diet, that's 2 or 3 days of meals.
I enjoy winter sports, especially skiing, and 20 miles from me is an abandoned ski resort that has been shut down for years. But I don't drive so getting to good areas like that takes some planning. Some fool once accused me of having had my driver's license taken away, but that's not the case. I can legally drive, but I choose not to for a number of reasons, mainly political and ethical. As a non-driver, making the planning even more difficult is the fact that I live in Buttfsck Egypt, and there is no public transportation here. There was a commuter train here until about 50 years ago, but like most of the rail network in this country, it was dismantled in favor of single-occupancy automobiles.
Today would probably be the last chance of the year to ski in good snow. It had snowed much of the night and morning. There would be a foot of fresh snow at the resort, not counting the several feet of packed snow that has built up over the winter. The road to the resort was icy, and snow plows hadn't gone through yet. Snow was piled too close on the shoulders for me to haul the skis on my bicycle (I've done this before but on wider roads).
I had been skiing there part of the winter -- I was able either to hitch-hike -- just start walking down the road with my ski bag over my shoulder and within an hour or so of thumbing, someone going over the mountain pass would usually take me to the abandoned ski resort. But, I quit going because the snow has been rotten for the past 3 months because of the unusually warm and dry winter the Pacific Northwest has had. Today I was afraid there wasn't going to be a lot of traffic going up there. The Department of transportation might have closed the mountain pass or maybe just because it hasn't been plowed, I didn't want ot risk wasting the day hitchhiking.
Sometimes I compromise my ideals. I haven't driven in more than 10 years (since the 2nd oil war aka Iraq II). The only exception was the time I recently crashed my gf's car when my gf thought it would be a good idea for me, a non-driver, to pick her up from the San Francisco airport an hour away in heavy mid-day traffic in her car -- her NEW car -- despite my explaining to her in verbose detail why having me drive was a VERY VERY BAD idea because I would probably wreck her new car. Not only that, but BART (the Bay Area commuter train) is a five minute walk from her house and stops directly at the airport, etc etc etc.... But like a typical American Girlfriend, she has to have her way, especially when she's wrong. Thinking back on that, I think she might have wanted that exact result. She hated that car and for me to "total" it (to totally destroy it beyond the replacement cost of a new car) was a way for her to get rid of it and collect insurance money to buy a new one. ...
So not having driven a car fro more than 10 years, I borrowed an old "4X4" style hillbilly farm truck complete with a gun rack in the back window. The farmer whose truck it was explained that the truck was a 4 wheel drive with a manual transmission (stick shift). This will be obvious to most people who drive, but if not, operating manual transmission (stick shifter and clutch) is a skill that has to be learned. He explained that the truck would be terrific for driving in the snow. And because it was a 35 year old junker already full of scrapes, dents, and rust-holes, it didn't matter if I banged it up a little bit more.
OK. I don't really remember how to drive. And I definitely dont' know how to drive a stick shift. But he explaiend that the gears are arrayed in an H-shape. And you have to press the pedal all the way on the left (there are 3 pedals instead of 2 in a stick shift, and the pedal on the left is the clutch.....) and let off the gas so you don't over-rev it. Lucky for me, he let me practice driving it on the farm to make sure I didn't crash or ruin the transmission.
I drove there without any major problems except occasional gear grinding and a hot engine, and there's still about 3 feet of packed snow base with about a foot of fresh snow on top. And the temperature was below freezing. These are good skiing conditions. Today I had my Karhu telemark skis (a type of back-country long-distance touring ski notorious for their difficulty in turning quickly).
The icing on the cake is that I was the only one there. I had the entire ski resort to myself. The parking lot was unplowed and covered with snow. The chalet was empty; the cabins, hotel adn bar were vacant. The ski lifts were still and the lift-chairs were piled with snow. The chairs at the entry and exit of the lift were buried in sevearl feet of snow. The lift-huts were empty. Trail maps and directions to various areas of interest were still displayed intact at the major areas. The feeling was of emptiness and nostalgia for the crowds who skied there decades ago. (Ever since my recent Fentanyl run, I've picked up on a dimension of nostalgia in many aspects of life.) I was reminded of the Overlook Hotel in Stanley Kubrick's film "The Shining."
The lifts were strung out to the top of the mountain which is about 1000 feet higher than the lodge (according to the trail map) so I put on my skis and skins and trudged up the mountain. The climb was a good cardio workout. Just one trip up, and my clothes were heavy with sweat. But I was wearing a warm parka so I wouldn't get cold when the wind hit my sweat-soaked clothes at the top.
After a couple of hours of skiing, practicing my slow clumsy telemark turns on my way down the resort's slopes, then at the bottom strapping on my climbing skins, and going back up (a 1/2 hour trek wearing skis), I was ready to explore. There are miles of trails carved into the forest along the mountain ridges above the resort. A promising one, Canyon Loop, follows the rim of a 5000 foot canyon. But before I set out, I began to eat my lunch while taking in the view.
To my left (south) ski slopes are cut into stands of Douglas Fir and pines descending more than 1000 feet to a gorge and the mountain pass. Beyond the gorge are 3 more ridges of mountains, each one smaller than the one before it and through a break in them, I can see into a wide valley that looks like it could be around 50 miles across to the next mountain range (the Cascades, I think). Directly in front of me is the edge of a cliff. It drops even deeper to another narrow gorge. I can hear the noise of a mountain river rushing through it. Rising steeply beyond that is anohter ridge that's even higher than the one I'm on.
I love storms. Thunder storms, hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, and especially blizzards put a smile on my face. So I stood at the peak on Canyon Loop in my skis eating the afternoon luncheon that I'd packed and notice a snow storm creeping toward me. It had not been snowing since I got here. It's about 3 mountains away -- I'm good at judging distance by sight (I have training both in land surveying and in wilderness navigation)-- so 3 mountains means roughly 10 miles distant, and it seemed to be picking up speed. EVerything within the storm is whited out. It's like a 10000-foot-tall wall of snow moving in.
This is certainly the last snow of the year and who knows how long it will be before I can ski in Oregon again? (because I'm thinking of moving on...) I'd better enjoy it while I can.
To be continued (word limit exceeded)
This journal entry is a few days old. I originally wrote it in "gedit," a Generic EDITor much like the Windows Notepad text editor, because I didn't have internet access when I wrote it. Gedit and offline is where most of my blog entries stay, but I wanted to share this one for a change -- this is the first time in a few weeks that I did something other than study, hunt for mushrooms, or work on projects.
I have bad genes. I've had the tendency to put on weight since I turned 25 years old. I mean that if I don't exercise hard at least 5 days a week, I will get fat, and this predisposition has gotten worse the older I've become. It starts with a small pot belly. Then comes chin "waddle," a bloated face, and a bigger pot belly. Finally comes the overall potato-shaped decrepitude that is so typical of Americans nowadays. How do I know this about myself? I looked in the mirror one day and, to my horror and disgust, noticed that I was fat. I was sickened on an even deeper level by my lack of self-discipline and will power and my overall moral failure in letting this happen. I had fought it off in its early stages several times before, but this was the worst it's ever been. I think I was 31 years old that day. What was so surprising is that I had been bicycling 50 - 75 miles per week and lifting weights at the time. I couldn't believe it had happened. Until then, that had been enough exercise to keep fit. So that left me with two choices: diet or more exercise. Or suicide. I like to be able to eat whatever I want and hate restricting calories. If I want a pint of Ben and Jerry's ice cream one day, I will have it. That rules out dieting. And I wanted to live and try to do something worthwhile during my lifetime in this world -- I was working toward my PhD in grad school at a world class university training to be a neurobiologist and wanted to help advance humanity's understanding of the neural substrates of consciousness. I thus chose to pile on more exercise and was able to take care of my weight problem within a few months. Over the years, to maintain my interest in exercise, I began to "cross-train" or alternate between different sports.
Exercise physiologists tell us that cross country skiing burns more calories than almost any other sport: about 800 - 900 calories per hour, give or take 100 or so depending on intensity. So during a typical day of skiing one might burn 5000 calories. Given an average 2000 calorie per day diet, that's 2 or 3 days of meals.
I enjoy winter sports, especially skiing, and 20 miles from me is an abandoned ski resort that has been shut down for years. But I don't drive so getting to good areas like that takes some planning. Some fool once accused me of having had my driver's license taken away, but that's not the case. I can legally drive, but I choose not to for a number of reasons, mainly political and ethical. As a non-driver, making the planning even more difficult is the fact that I live in Buttfsck Egypt, and there is no public transportation here. There was a commuter train here until about 50 years ago, but like most of the rail network in this country, it was dismantled in favor of single-occupancy automobiles.
Today would probably be the last chance of the year to ski in good snow. It had snowed much of the night and morning. There would be a foot of fresh snow at the resort, not counting the several feet of packed snow that has built up over the winter. The road to the resort was icy, and snow plows hadn't gone through yet. Snow was piled too close on the shoulders for me to haul the skis on my bicycle (I've done this before but on wider roads).
I had been skiing there part of the winter -- I was able either to hitch-hike -- just start walking down the road with my ski bag over my shoulder and within an hour or so of thumbing, someone going over the mountain pass would usually take me to the abandoned ski resort. But, I quit going because the snow has been rotten for the past 3 months because of the unusually warm and dry winter the Pacific Northwest has had. Today I was afraid there wasn't going to be a lot of traffic going up there. The Department of transportation might have closed the mountain pass or maybe just because it hasn't been plowed, I didn't want ot risk wasting the day hitchhiking.
Sometimes I compromise my ideals. I haven't driven in more than 10 years (since the 2nd oil war aka Iraq II). The only exception was the time I recently crashed my gf's car when my gf thought it would be a good idea for me, a non-driver, to pick her up from the San Francisco airport an hour away in heavy mid-day traffic in her car -- her NEW car -- despite my explaining to her in verbose detail why having me drive was a VERY VERY BAD idea because I would probably wreck her new car. Not only that, but BART (the Bay Area commuter train) is a five minute walk from her house and stops directly at the airport, etc etc etc.... But like a typical American Girlfriend, she has to have her way, especially when she's wrong. Thinking back on that, I think she might have wanted that exact result. She hated that car and for me to "total" it (to totally destroy it beyond the replacement cost of a new car) was a way for her to get rid of it and collect insurance money to buy a new one. ...
So not having driven a car fro more than 10 years, I borrowed an old "4X4" style hillbilly farm truck complete with a gun rack in the back window. The farmer whose truck it was explained that the truck was a 4 wheel drive with a manual transmission (stick shift). This will be obvious to most people who drive, but if not, operating manual transmission (stick shifter and clutch) is a skill that has to be learned. He explained that the truck would be terrific for driving in the snow. And because it was a 35 year old junker already full of scrapes, dents, and rust-holes, it didn't matter if I banged it up a little bit more.
OK. I don't really remember how to drive. And I definitely dont' know how to drive a stick shift. But he explaiend that the gears are arrayed in an H-shape. And you have to press the pedal all the way on the left (there are 3 pedals instead of 2 in a stick shift, and the pedal on the left is the clutch.....) and let off the gas so you don't over-rev it. Lucky for me, he let me practice driving it on the farm to make sure I didn't crash or ruin the transmission.
I drove there without any major problems except occasional gear grinding and a hot engine, and there's still about 3 feet of packed snow base with about a foot of fresh snow on top. And the temperature was below freezing. These are good skiing conditions. Today I had my Karhu telemark skis (a type of back-country long-distance touring ski notorious for their difficulty in turning quickly).
The icing on the cake is that I was the only one there. I had the entire ski resort to myself. The parking lot was unplowed and covered with snow. The chalet was empty; the cabins, hotel adn bar were vacant. The ski lifts were still and the lift-chairs were piled with snow. The chairs at the entry and exit of the lift were buried in sevearl feet of snow. The lift-huts were empty. Trail maps and directions to various areas of interest were still displayed intact at the major areas. The feeling was of emptiness and nostalgia for the crowds who skied there decades ago. (Ever since my recent Fentanyl run, I've picked up on a dimension of nostalgia in many aspects of life.) I was reminded of the Overlook Hotel in Stanley Kubrick's film "The Shining."
The lifts were strung out to the top of the mountain which is about 1000 feet higher than the lodge (according to the trail map) so I put on my skis and skins and trudged up the mountain. The climb was a good cardio workout. Just one trip up, and my clothes were heavy with sweat. But I was wearing a warm parka so I wouldn't get cold when the wind hit my sweat-soaked clothes at the top.
After a couple of hours of skiing, practicing my slow clumsy telemark turns on my way down the resort's slopes, then at the bottom strapping on my climbing skins, and going back up (a 1/2 hour trek wearing skis), I was ready to explore. There are miles of trails carved into the forest along the mountain ridges above the resort. A promising one, Canyon Loop, follows the rim of a 5000 foot canyon. But before I set out, I began to eat my lunch while taking in the view.
To my left (south) ski slopes are cut into stands of Douglas Fir and pines descending more than 1000 feet to a gorge and the mountain pass. Beyond the gorge are 3 more ridges of mountains, each one smaller than the one before it and through a break in them, I can see into a wide valley that looks like it could be around 50 miles across to the next mountain range (the Cascades, I think). Directly in front of me is the edge of a cliff. It drops even deeper to another narrow gorge. I can hear the noise of a mountain river rushing through it. Rising steeply beyond that is anohter ridge that's even higher than the one I'm on.
I love storms. Thunder storms, hurricanes, tornadoes, earthquakes, and especially blizzards put a smile on my face. So I stood at the peak on Canyon Loop in my skis eating the afternoon luncheon that I'd packed and notice a snow storm creeping toward me. It had not been snowing since I got here. It's about 3 mountains away -- I'm good at judging distance by sight (I have training both in land surveying and in wilderness navigation)-- so 3 mountains means roughly 10 miles distant, and it seemed to be picking up speed. EVerything within the storm is whited out. It's like a 10000-foot-tall wall of snow moving in.
This is certainly the last snow of the year and who knows how long it will be before I can ski in Oregon again? (because I'm thinking of moving on...) I'd better enjoy it while I can.
To be continued (word limit exceeded)
I did my tough mudder and I actually had nothing to be worried about plus vegas was a fucking blast even with my family - who knew? lol
I finally finished that Stephen king book about the jfk assassination - it took me like 2 years of reading it off and on ( I read a ton of books in between) I seriously don't think I have ever taken so long to read a book it kind of had just enough to keep me reading anyway not his best but I did like the ending
also update so yah I only work 2 days a week (which I like) and I don't make that much money (which i don't like) but my job thus far (its been 4 weeks) has been very very pleasant and everyone I work with is super nice
I am also officially registered for my first semester of graduate school (M.S. in Exercise Science) and I am waiting to hear about the GA position ( a part of me feels like if I don't get it I should switch to the counseling program because then tuition is free)
so woohoo things are good and looking forward to the 10 mile run I am signed up for at the end of the month!
I finally finished that Stephen king book about the jfk assassination - it took me like 2 years of reading it off and on ( I read a ton of books in between) I seriously don't think I have ever taken so long to read a book it kind of had just enough to keep me reading anyway not his best but I did like the ending
also update so yah I only work 2 days a week (which I like) and I don't make that much money (which i don't like) but my job thus far (its been 4 weeks) has been very very pleasant and everyone I work with is super nice
I am also officially registered for my first semester of graduate school (M.S. in Exercise Science) and I am waiting to hear about the GA position ( a part of me feels like if I don't get it I should switch to the counseling program because then tuition is free)
so woohoo things are good and looking forward to the 10 mile run I am signed up for at the end of the month!
so, i was coming off 5 months of using bupe; started off at 16MG and was down to about 4-8MG/daily before slipping up. I start to slip and was using 1-2x's a week before it eventually went back to using daily.
I first started buying 40's - 3 for the usual ONE ZERO ZERO! I was blasting a 40 a shot and "feeling good". well, soon it was blasting 2 40's, and then 3 40's and then before you know it my addiction was back to where it was before and costing me WAY TOO MUCH DAILY; still is to this day.
next week I will be working REMOTE all week; I plan on kicking this fucker COLD TURKEY, again! I am NOT using bupe again; it did zero for me. well, it kept me away from dope but it still made me ADDICTED TO OPIATES daily; so what is the point? I want OFF EVERYTHING! I am sick of having to take something daily to get me by.
we'll see how this goes; I have a really ripping habit right now, so let's see how this detox works. I have weed, xanny, sleeping pills, NyQuil, Phenibut and anything else needed to ease the detox. let's see how it all goes.
again, I read my last post and it actually saddened me; just shows how WHACKED I was last time I wrote it. funny because it's when I first started shooting again and I dont even remember writing it; goes to show how good the dope was at that time vs. what it is now and how my tolerance is now! sad.. just SAD!
I am actually SNIFFING lately instead of shooting; my veins are SHIT! I cant have that anymore; I am done. problem w/ sniffing is I am sniffing DOUBLE what I would normally shoot; that sucks. but it's what I need to do.. plus, it's only 3 more days of "sniffing" before I try and kick this COLD FUCKING TURKEY!
I will surly update myself.
wish me luck.
also, any suggestion you have, please let me know.
I first started buying 40's - 3 for the usual ONE ZERO ZERO! I was blasting a 40 a shot and "feeling good". well, soon it was blasting 2 40's, and then 3 40's and then before you know it my addiction was back to where it was before and costing me WAY TOO MUCH DAILY; still is to this day.
next week I will be working REMOTE all week; I plan on kicking this fucker COLD TURKEY, again! I am NOT using bupe again; it did zero for me. well, it kept me away from dope but it still made me ADDICTED TO OPIATES daily; so what is the point? I want OFF EVERYTHING! I am sick of having to take something daily to get me by.
we'll see how this goes; I have a really ripping habit right now, so let's see how this detox works. I have weed, xanny, sleeping pills, NyQuil, Phenibut and anything else needed to ease the detox. let's see how it all goes.
again, I read my last post and it actually saddened me; just shows how WHACKED I was last time I wrote it. funny because it's when I first started shooting again and I dont even remember writing it; goes to show how good the dope was at that time vs. what it is now and how my tolerance is now! sad.. just SAD!
I am actually SNIFFING lately instead of shooting; my veins are SHIT! I cant have that anymore; I am done. problem w/ sniffing is I am sniffing DOUBLE what I would normally shoot; that sucks. but it's what I need to do.. plus, it's only 3 more days of "sniffing" before I try and kick this COLD FUCKING TURKEY!
I will surly update myself.
wish me luck.
also, any suggestion you have, please let me know.
August 5th, 2013 - A day which will live in stinky infamy, I went to drop off the kids at the pool. My kids are quite tougher, denser, and fatter than most, because daddy has chronic constipation.
Anyways, the expected happened, again. Yes, again, I flooded the toilet. And the plunger couldn't deal with this serious kind of shit.
So I picked up my trusty auger and went deep. I could feel it bustin' through several layers of unyielding turds. Boy was I happy that I could flush again.
After a job well done, I began to retract the auger, but noticed it's stuck on something hard. With my surgeon hands, I gently went back and forth in an attempt to dislodge and hopefully not have to deal with anymore of this caca, but no luck.
I eventually lost my patience, and applied MANLY force. As a result, the auger soon proceeded to swiftly exit the shit-hole, with some stubborn turds attached. The intense recoil then flung various pieces of feces in a circle pattern all across the bathroom walls.
Apart from the walls, mirrors and myself, items which received a baptism of doodoo included our toothbrushes, combs, mouthwash, shampoo, soap, towels, rinse cups, sink, dentures, and q-tips. But hey - at least my face was spared!
Among the comments made from amused family members was this gem: "You don't take shit from no one - except yourself!" Har har har.
Till next time, goodbye bitches.
Anyways, the expected happened, again. Yes, again, I flooded the toilet. And the plunger couldn't deal with this serious kind of shit.
So I picked up my trusty auger and went deep. I could feel it bustin' through several layers of unyielding turds. Boy was I happy that I could flush again.
After a job well done, I began to retract the auger, but noticed it's stuck on something hard. With my surgeon hands, I gently went back and forth in an attempt to dislodge and hopefully not have to deal with anymore of this caca, but no luck.
I eventually lost my patience, and applied MANLY force. As a result, the auger soon proceeded to swiftly exit the shit-hole, with some stubborn turds attached. The intense recoil then flung various pieces of feces in a circle pattern all across the bathroom walls.
Apart from the walls, mirrors and myself, items which received a baptism of doodoo included our toothbrushes, combs, mouthwash, shampoo, soap, towels, rinse cups, sink, dentures, and q-tips. But hey - at least my face was spared!
Among the comments made from amused family members was this gem: "You don't take shit from no one - except yourself!" Har har har.
Till next time, goodbye bitches.
I just don't think I can take the constant nerve pain anymore, I'll miss you my brothers! 
Oh and FadedJoe(you know who you are!) I hope you fucking rot you lying fuck! I know you know as you would have tested like I told you but noo, you greedy fuck, even after I begged your bitch to switch the trade you wouldn't because your one of those MDMA obsessed faggots who want to roll 24/7....
Oh and FadedJoe(you know who you are!) I hope you fucking rot you lying fuck! I know you know as you would have tested like I told you but noo, you greedy fuck, even after I begged your bitch to switch the trade you wouldn't because your one of those MDMA obsessed faggots who want to roll 24/7....
Jeremy'sDemo is probably an UC, he claims to not want to use the names of synth noids? He's apart of some completely open site like chemsrus or something to that effect looking to buy anything he can, yet that dumb MF'er wants to use wish wash to hide it? You tell me if you find that shady. Oh and when I gave him a supplier if exchange for one he knew of with AB-FUBINACA. He gave me some two bit mostly scam looking site anyone with half a brain could find, (almost like the now defunct ECchems) decide yet whimpers like some bitch ass pussy when I give him a legit over seas supplier with a fair track record....? Strange.....? You tell me but unless he's a twelve year old...... Oh and fuck you JD for crying when I gave you a legit source and you gave me like two a god damn baby could find, not to mention nearly non-existent on SoS...
Have a grand one!
Have a grand one!
it has been a year since i moved back here. in a weird turn of events, unglued and i get along better than we did when we split. i think living in so cal forced us to have a more traditional relationship and that obviously didn't work out so well. i'm still dating, which is fun. nothing serious, it is more like finding friends with benefits, or as vgoraz says "fucking with a side of dating".
i'm a lot happier now that i've stopped caring what other people think. i am content with being weird. this is prolly the first time that i am not self conscious about how i fit into various labels. i suppose it took 31 years, but i am not trying to be everything to everyone (who can resist quoting everclear?)
i'm a lot happier now that i've stopped caring what other people think. i am content with being weird. this is prolly the first time that i am not self conscious about how i fit into various labels. i suppose it took 31 years, but i am not trying to be everything to everyone (who can resist quoting everclear?)
Rant about losing Stim Rant
---------------------------------------------Starting around 5:20am this morning, I spent 2 hours writing, editing, rewriting and condensing the ultimate Stim-Rant of the century, whilst tripping simultaneously, as a result of a multi-day binge on MPA, 5-MeO-DALT, Alcohol and Sleep Deprivation.
Apparently, BL (which is henceforth an entity in itself) didn't appreciate my frantic tap-tap-tapping away at the keypad with the enthusiasm of a spoiled child at Christmas after a double dose of Ritalin. BL found it more suitable to not submit my post, blaming a 'missing security token', whilst making it impossible to access my post by going back a page, which I can do every single other time.
T'was a Fucked Sprout as I was writing, but now I'm both coming down hard and incredibly pissed off about losing my Stim-Rant. Bad times.
---------------------------------------------
Version of Stim-Rant after some editing, I think, definitely not original.
---------------------------------------------
Fuckedy-fuck-fucked is ol' Sprout.
Had 3.5g of each MPA and 5-MeO-DALT delivered on Wednesday. What started as a low dose of MPA to check I wasn't sold bunk has become the most functional binge I've ever been on. Had 4 hours sleep in the last 72 hours, in addition to minimal solid food intake, though I have been consuming protein/meal replacement shakes and various vitamins/supplements/minerals etc. to ensure my body isn't entirely depleted. I have barely been 'not high' since the package arrived. I've been dumping MPA into bottled water and drinking it constantly, at higher and higher concentrations, sometimes alongside 5-MeO. The first dose of MPA was 30mg dissolved in water and consumed over 15 minutes. After 2 hours I thought to myself 'This is shit, I barely feel altered'. Then the last 2 hours became clear: I had cleaned, no, blitzed the kitchen, hallway, living room and bathroom. I didn't even realise how effective MPA was being until it began wearing off. I felt zero difference between sobriety and high, but the effects were obvious on retrospect.
Thursday I worked for 16 hours straight on University assignments and by Friday morning (zero sleep) I'd completed all my work, along with the work of 7 (!) other people due to their sheer fucking laziness: A mini dissertation and group presentation that was supposed to take 8 people an entire week ended up being done by my completely gacked out self in just over 4 hours.
Friday (I think?): MPA throughout the morning, 3 drinks in the pub at 3pm, before heading home to get ready for going out 'on the town' that night. 11:30pm myself and 10 others leave for the club, after I consumed several rather sizeable doses of both MPA and 5-MeO-DALT. Fairly average club night - Deep House, not my thing but couldn't help dancing like a spastic octopus with no rhythm, ha! 30mg 5-MeO-DALT bombed and 3 small MPA redoses were eaten as raw powder - the cat piss flavour of good Phet alongside that yummy, Sulphurous Thiophene ring. Redoses ~30-45mins apart (I think: sense of time fucked). Had the wrong time memorised for the last bus to my town from Manchester - it left at 2:15am, as opposed to 2:30 like I thought, leaving a very pissed off Sprout when I got to the bus stop at 2:20am. Had to get the only other bus running anywhere near my place. Jumped on said bus as it arrived promptly at 3am to drunken jeers of Manchester's dregs. Got off at 3:40am and had an 8-mile walk at stupid hours of the morning, alone, in the freezing cold, with a 'waking hangover' and a stim crash with typical Tryptamine Stomach. Obviously I justified re-dosing MPA and added a ridiculous amount of it, ~400mg to approx 100ml water. Ended up drinking half of it to wash down a finger dab of 5-MeO
Fell through front door at 5ish, watched sunrise while tripping, amazing.
Cue me stood in kitchen corner at 6/7am as a sweaty, hardcore gurning, heavy tripping watching sunlight filter through steel blinds and explode into colours. Primary mostly, some secondary.
Oh, one more thing: I gave 2 friends of mine some MPA before we left for, and while at, the club, no more than 125mg each total (including redoses) and they both said it felt 'like MD(MA) but smoother ... streamlined'. One of them spent most of the night frantically jaw gnashing, eyes wide, pupils dialated extremely, announcing 'This feels so fucking goooood!' repeatedly.
The comparison to MDMA shocked me as I get zero empathy and tactile euphoria unless I add some 5-MeO.
I think the pair of them comparing it to MD says more about the quality of the '£35 a gram' (price alone says it all) 'brown powder' (again; the fuck?) 'MDMA' they are used to than it does about MPA. I imagine it is nothing more than low dose speed, the cheapest empathogen their dealer can get, dyed brown and cut with brown sugar. Hell, maybe Bisto!
---------------------------------------------
This rant is not V1, the original piece is irrecoverable. This was edited in some places at some point in the AM on Saturday, I don't remember doing it but my memory is shot.
Note: change in language usage, syntax, grammar, punctuation and overall tone.
It took so long to write that I was dosing, writing while high, writing while crashing, and writing while getting close to baseline.
---------------------------------------------
It is 1:30am on Sunday morning as I type this, mental state has deteriorated, massively. Sleep Deprivation Hallucinations began at 8/9am on Saturday, tunnel vision, things on visual periphery were, and are, compressed, still images appearing to move as if a video. Bodily/mental state continued to worsen as hours went by. At 3pm on Saturday I was stood upright watching TV. According to my brother: in the space of a few seconds my chin tucked towards my chest with high velocity and I collapsed into a heap on the floor. I do not remember this happening. I do remember awakening with a shock, a huge buzzing noise in my ears, and seeing a pile of clothing in the corner begin to move towards me, growling, hissing and snarling as it did. A panic attack ensued.
---------------------------------------------Starting around 5:20am this morning, I spent 2 hours writing, editing, rewriting and condensing the ultimate Stim-Rant of the century, whilst tripping simultaneously, as a result of a multi-day binge on MPA, 5-MeO-DALT, Alcohol and Sleep Deprivation.
Apparently, BL (which is henceforth an entity in itself) didn't appreciate my frantic tap-tap-tapping away at the keypad with the enthusiasm of a spoiled child at Christmas after a double dose of Ritalin. BL found it more suitable to not submit my post, blaming a 'missing security token', whilst making it impossible to access my post by going back a page, which I can do every single other time.
T'was a Fucked Sprout as I was writing, but now I'm both coming down hard and incredibly pissed off about losing my Stim-Rant. Bad times.
---------------------------------------------
Version of Stim-Rant after some editing, I think, definitely not original.
---------------------------------------------
Fuckedy-fuck-fucked is ol' Sprout.
Had 3.5g of each MPA and 5-MeO-DALT delivered on Wednesday. What started as a low dose of MPA to check I wasn't sold bunk has become the most functional binge I've ever been on. Had 4 hours sleep in the last 72 hours, in addition to minimal solid food intake, though I have been consuming protein/meal replacement shakes and various vitamins/supplements/minerals etc. to ensure my body isn't entirely depleted. I have barely been 'not high' since the package arrived. I've been dumping MPA into bottled water and drinking it constantly, at higher and higher concentrations, sometimes alongside 5-MeO. The first dose of MPA was 30mg dissolved in water and consumed over 15 minutes. After 2 hours I thought to myself 'This is shit, I barely feel altered'. Then the last 2 hours became clear: I had cleaned, no, blitzed the kitchen, hallway, living room and bathroom. I didn't even realise how effective MPA was being until it began wearing off. I felt zero difference between sobriety and high, but the effects were obvious on retrospect.
Thursday I worked for 16 hours straight on University assignments and by Friday morning (zero sleep) I'd completed all my work, along with the work of 7 (!) other people due to their sheer fucking laziness: A mini dissertation and group presentation that was supposed to take 8 people an entire week ended up being done by my completely gacked out self in just over 4 hours.
Friday (I think?): MPA throughout the morning, 3 drinks in the pub at 3pm, before heading home to get ready for going out 'on the town' that night. 11:30pm myself and 10 others leave for the club, after I consumed several rather sizeable doses of both MPA and 5-MeO-DALT. Fairly average club night - Deep House, not my thing but couldn't help dancing like a spastic octopus with no rhythm, ha! 30mg 5-MeO-DALT bombed and 3 small MPA redoses were eaten as raw powder - the cat piss flavour of good Phet alongside that yummy, Sulphurous Thiophene ring. Redoses ~30-45mins apart (I think: sense of time fucked). Had the wrong time memorised for the last bus to my town from Manchester - it left at 2:15am, as opposed to 2:30 like I thought, leaving a very pissed off Sprout when I got to the bus stop at 2:20am. Had to get the only other bus running anywhere near my place. Jumped on said bus as it arrived promptly at 3am to drunken jeers of Manchester's dregs. Got off at 3:40am and had an 8-mile walk at stupid hours of the morning, alone, in the freezing cold, with a 'waking hangover' and a stim crash with typical Tryptamine Stomach. Obviously I justified re-dosing MPA and added a ridiculous amount of it, ~400mg to approx 100ml water. Ended up drinking half of it to wash down a finger dab of 5-MeO
Fell through front door at 5ish, watched sunrise while tripping, amazing.
Cue me stood in kitchen corner at 6/7am as a sweaty, hardcore gurning, heavy tripping watching sunlight filter through steel blinds and explode into colours. Primary mostly, some secondary.
Oh, one more thing: I gave 2 friends of mine some MPA before we left for, and while at, the club, no more than 125mg each total (including redoses) and they both said it felt 'like MD(MA) but smoother ... streamlined'. One of them spent most of the night frantically jaw gnashing, eyes wide, pupils dialated extremely, announcing 'This feels so fucking goooood!' repeatedly.
The comparison to MDMA shocked me as I get zero empathy and tactile euphoria unless I add some 5-MeO.
I think the pair of them comparing it to MD says more about the quality of the '£35 a gram' (price alone says it all) 'brown powder' (again; the fuck?) 'MDMA' they are used to than it does about MPA. I imagine it is nothing more than low dose speed, the cheapest empathogen their dealer can get, dyed brown and cut with brown sugar. Hell, maybe Bisto!
---------------------------------------------
This rant is not V1, the original piece is irrecoverable. This was edited in some places at some point in the AM on Saturday, I don't remember doing it but my memory is shot.
Note: change in language usage, syntax, grammar, punctuation and overall tone.
It took so long to write that I was dosing, writing while high, writing while crashing, and writing while getting close to baseline.
---------------------------------------------
It is 1:30am on Sunday morning as I type this, mental state has deteriorated, massively. Sleep Deprivation Hallucinations began at 8/9am on Saturday, tunnel vision, things on visual periphery were, and are, compressed, still images appearing to move as if a video. Bodily/mental state continued to worsen as hours went by. At 3pm on Saturday I was stood upright watching TV. According to my brother: in the space of a few seconds my chin tucked towards my chest with high velocity and I collapsed into a heap on the floor. I do not remember this happening. I do remember awakening with a shock, a huge buzzing noise in my ears, and seeing a pile of clothing in the corner begin to move towards me, growling, hissing and snarling as it did. A panic attack ensued.
Everyone is a selfish deluded idiot! Nobody will look twice at this.
Everybody deceives everybody. All I want is to know that I'm not alone. I feel like that even on BL I am alone. Nothing I say seems to interest people, throughout all of my life I have tried to integrate into society. To be 'normal'. Everything I try seems to fail.
Nobody cares about anybody but themselves! This makes me angry! Then I realize that I am not much different sometimes, this scares me. Are there good people out there? Are we all narcissistic? Is altruism only an investment for a possible personal advantage?
Life is one big complexity, we can never know anything as an absolute certainty because our perceptions can deceive us. I can't trust anyone completely. Is this just the way life is? Is it really everyone for themselves? I'm so scared of being hurt again.
I'm in my early 20s. I work full time and I hope to re-enroll in university. I wanted to study Neuropharmacology, recent events however have made me want to just understand the complexity of the human brain.
Psychology - How can I protect myself from this big bad world?
Why do we lie? why do we cheat? Why do we even take drugs? How do they affect our brain chemistry/ physicality/ psychology? We all seem to be slaves to our own psychology, no matter how much we know about it.
I try to connect with people but nobody seems to see things the way I do, and when they do, I don't believe it. They could be trying to use me for their own needs, right? How do I know what and who I can trust?
The sad (and purely pessimistic) thing is that there are so many blogs on here that nobody will likely read all of this or take notice, nevermind think to comment.
If life is just a ride then why has it taken me here?
Why am I a slave to my job? I used to be so anti-conformist! Living on the dole in a rented flat smoking MDPV with close friends who I could trust with my life, now only to find that almost every one of them is either a cheater/ liar or on some form of medication.
Is this just part of growing up? Am I destined to work forever and feel trapped? I was much happier learning from free sources on the internet whilst on the dole, I felt like I was actually progressing as a person. Now I just feel numbed by the conventions of the average working class person.
I can only pray that whatever 'god' or guiding force in this ever so fractile and complex universe can show me a way out.
I can only hope that I'm not alone. I feel socially inept, a bit insane and out of place.
Everybody deceives everybody. All I want is to know that I'm not alone. I feel like that even on BL I am alone. Nothing I say seems to interest people, throughout all of my life I have tried to integrate into society. To be 'normal'. Everything I try seems to fail.
Nobody cares about anybody but themselves! This makes me angry! Then I realize that I am not much different sometimes, this scares me. Are there good people out there? Are we all narcissistic? Is altruism only an investment for a possible personal advantage?
Life is one big complexity, we can never know anything as an absolute certainty because our perceptions can deceive us. I can't trust anyone completely. Is this just the way life is? Is it really everyone for themselves? I'm so scared of being hurt again.
I'm in my early 20s. I work full time and I hope to re-enroll in university. I wanted to study Neuropharmacology, recent events however have made me want to just understand the complexity of the human brain.
Psychology - How can I protect myself from this big bad world?
Why do we lie? why do we cheat? Why do we even take drugs? How do they affect our brain chemistry/ physicality/ psychology? We all seem to be slaves to our own psychology, no matter how much we know about it.
I try to connect with people but nobody seems to see things the way I do, and when they do, I don't believe it. They could be trying to use me for their own needs, right? How do I know what and who I can trust?
The sad (and purely pessimistic) thing is that there are so many blogs on here that nobody will likely read all of this or take notice, nevermind think to comment.
If life is just a ride then why has it taken me here?
Why am I a slave to my job? I used to be so anti-conformist! Living on the dole in a rented flat smoking MDPV with close friends who I could trust with my life, now only to find that almost every one of them is either a cheater/ liar or on some form of medication.
Is this just part of growing up? Am I destined to work forever and feel trapped? I was much happier learning from free sources on the internet whilst on the dole, I felt like I was actually progressing as a person. Now I just feel numbed by the conventions of the average working class person.
I can only pray that whatever 'god' or guiding force in this ever so fractile and complex universe can show me a way out.
I can only hope that I'm not alone. I feel socially inept, a bit insane and out of place.
Got bored a few months ago and wrote a random poemy thing. or whatever it is. turned out more like a rap verse. first time i had bothered to write one
First of all i can neither rap nor usually rhyme,
But this sort of stuff pops into my head from time to time
The irony of society has always been funny to me
A nation obsessed with material objects and money
The integrity of a nation defined by a concentration of media manipulation
Endless bad news in papers and on every tv news station
Get arrested in a pub for illegal drugs when alcohol is one of the worst
Fuck up your body, domestic violence, hurt, get raped, cry to a nurse,
Question everything, realize lies that demonize people until their own demise,
Enlightenment, internal revelations beyond limitation take you by surprise
As time mysteriously flows and flys,
What really matters, thats for you to decide
First of all i can neither rap nor usually rhyme,
But this sort of stuff pops into my head from time to time
The irony of society has always been funny to me
A nation obsessed with material objects and money
The integrity of a nation defined by a concentration of media manipulation
Endless bad news in papers and on every tv news station
Get arrested in a pub for illegal drugs when alcohol is one of the worst
Fuck up your body, domestic violence, hurt, get raped, cry to a nurse,
Question everything, realize lies that demonize people until their own demise,
Enlightenment, internal revelations beyond limitation take you by surprise
As time mysteriously flows and flys,
What really matters, thats for you to decide
"Don't ever let anyone else's bullshit dictate your happiness. You only get one shot at life, so make it count."
“Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics: You are all stardust. You couldn’t be here if stars hadn’t exploded, because the elements - the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution and for life - weren’t created at the beginning of time. They were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars, and the only way for them to get into your body is if those stars were kind enough to explode. So, forget Jesus. The stars died so that you could be here today.”
― Lawrence M. Krauss
"The truth is, you don't know what's going to happen, life is a crazy ride, and nothing is guaranteed." - Eminem
“Every person is unique. the most important thing is always be true to yourself”
“Being yourself is like showing your soul to the world, being somebody else is like showing your shadow in the dark.”
"A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty." - Winston Churchill
"I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present - which is what there is and all there is." Alan Watts
“Dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today.”
"Some people see the glass half full. Others see it half empty.
I see a glass that's twice as big as it needs to be." - George Carlin
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.” -Jimi hendrix
"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away." - shing xiong
"you can prick your finger, but don't finger your prick." - George carlin
"Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience."
"The one unchangeable certainty is that nothing is unchangeable or certain."
“Limitations live only in our minds. But if we use our imaginations, our possibilities become limitless.”
“Every atom in your body came from a star that exploded. And, the atoms in your left hand probably came from a different star than your right hand. It really is the most poetic thing I know about physics: You are all stardust. You couldn’t be here if stars hadn’t exploded, because the elements - the carbon, nitrogen, oxygen, iron, all the things that matter for evolution and for life - weren’t created at the beginning of time. They were created in the nuclear furnaces of stars, and the only way for them to get into your body is if those stars were kind enough to explode. So, forget Jesus. The stars died so that you could be here today.”
― Lawrence M. Krauss
"The truth is, you don't know what's going to happen, life is a crazy ride, and nothing is guaranteed." - Eminem
“Every person is unique. the most important thing is always be true to yourself”
“Being yourself is like showing your soul to the world, being somebody else is like showing your shadow in the dark.”
"A pessimist sees the difficulty in every opportunity; an optimist sees the opportunity in every difficulty." - Winston Churchill
"I have realized that the past and future are real illusions, that they exist in the present - which is what there is and all there is." Alan Watts
“Dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today.”
"Some people see the glass half full. Others see it half empty.
I see a glass that's twice as big as it needs to be." - George Carlin
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.” -Jimi hendrix
"In the end, it's not going to matter how many breaths you took, but how many moments took your breath away." - shing xiong
"you can prick your finger, but don't finger your prick." - George carlin
"Do not argue with an idiot. He will drag you down to his level and beat you with experience."
"The one unchangeable certainty is that nothing is unchangeable or certain."
“Limitations live only in our minds. But if we use our imaginations, our possibilities become limitless.”
http://Cool Hand Flex & Ron MC Crew Kool FM 1995[video=youtube_share;_iCCdW-019o]http://youtu.be/_iCCdW-019o[/video]
nuff said
WE run tings tings no run we
this our sound n we r proud y'na got dis riddim anywhere
BIG UP KOOL FM London .%)
like it na luv it
nuff said
WE run tings tings no run we
this our sound n we r proud y'na got dis riddim anywhere
BIG UP KOOL FM London .%)
like it na luv it
I was a courier. There were many more couriors than normal in and out of the place I went to. There were cones at the entrance and across the road, and I sped in and seemed to come close to hitting someone. Not close, but they were also driving. Theresa- a girl who worked at my old company has just recently started working for us. This is the same client I have served for awhile, since I was with the other company. I switched over because they went to this company. For some reason I was sticking around there for a good amount of time. I remember Theresa holding a baby. Recently in life she introduced me to her "baby"- a dog. The baby she was holding looked like a newborn. Someone else was holding it at first, wrapped up tightly in blankets. There was also seemingly a cracked egg, on a neckless (?). It was brown/ruddy. The newborn baby spoke with a grown man's voice, with knowledge about something.
I was waiting at the hub where we pick up. Usually John does this, waiting for orders to come in. My route goes really far south, so I don't handle many of the local deliveries, as I am gone for at least 6 hours, usually. But this night in this dream, I was back at midnight. And I'd usually go home... But I didn't. And there was Pizza there. And this seemed common that John or I think it was John, would buy pizza, and leave it out for everyone. I remember in some part of the dream, before, I ate pizza, and drank beer even. Like my treatment had worked and I could tolerate these foods. I remember going to the grocery and picking up this rolled up pizza that was in the frozen/cold section, but was ready and warm. I was still hesitant to eat this pizza, that John got. The Cheese, mainly. Dairy was is of my worst allergies. I took a piece of pepperoni, somewhat smaller than the others, and laid it on top of the cheese pizza, which was laying on top of the pepperoni. The pizza was Pizza Hut, or Pizza King. And then, I remember going to the bathroom. And suddenly I was in John's van, in his passengers seat, going there. Like there was a toilet in that position. And I seemed to be down the road from the hub where I pick up. Everything was coming out fine but then I felt a sort of block happens and I felt I might have to reach down there and pull it out. Then I just stopped going. I may have woke up feeling like I really had to go, but didn't really have to.
Perhaps when I went back to sleep I remember being with family. And once again eating and drinking things I normally wouldn't. Or on the verge. The pizza, before, I had one bite. And nothing bad happened. But I fear it.
I was in a parking lot of a block of stores adjacent to where a family who I worked for in one block also had another store. I worked at their natural foods store, and this was like a greeting card and party store. Jeff- the owner, was sitting outside. I am in debt to them, and they don't know. I never fully paid my tab from when I worked with them. I have a hard time paying it because I don't want to seem awkward. Right now its kind of lose lose. Here, I had gum in my mouth. A lot of gum. And I started to choke, about. And I think I almost reached in to grab it. But I may have swallowed it. Or became unconscious. Family was near, but some distance. I think some people may have been on their way to assist me.
Was with family. At my grandmas. Drugs seemed to be involved. I found a website/blog by looking at a map. There was a white area, where you could hover over it, in something like Google Maps, and the white was made up of blocks. The first one I landed on, it was like synchronicity. My ex girlfriends father, one who really liked me, for whatever reason, had written things. The timing seemed around the time Alisha, an ex, would have received a message asking her to marry me. There were pictures of her, I think, and then I saw above, and this was surprising, pictures of my family... A family picture at my deceased Grandmas, where we were. Each blog entry was marked with a picture of him. I was really curious how he got the picture of us. That Alisha may have given it to him, but was curious why I mattered to him. And that maybe I misjudged how much Alisha was into me. I seemed to lose the page. Then found it. And after the date that she received the message and I sort of reneged, there was a picture of her Jeep... Her red Jeep, wrecked. Windows all shattered, but intact. Cracks spreading out from points. In one. Others fractured and opaque. Then I lost the page, and kept trying to find it... Searching maps around Henderson, TN. The white areas. I wasn't having much luck. I wanted to study. Reflect.
My family went out. The lost page was still on my mind. We went to the market... Seemingly a Whole Foods. And my brother we ran I to an in my dream old good friend of his, that he had to separate from. The friend was working there. And better off. So was my brother. And my brother was a lot fatter before. This guy maybe too. And looked better now. He was arranging produce. They seemed to be partners back then.
Outside... My mom was going to buy beer for young girls, near a Rally's. This is out of character. And they had someone old enough anyways. Mom said she couldn't then.
I found a caterpillar, when we were somewhere. It was green, and large. And I kept scooping it up in a small glass jar- letting it crawl in, to put it outside. But it was smart, and kept coming back in. I commented to my mother, about it. And referenced moths or butterflies. Their complexity. And I saw eyes on it looking back and forth... Surveying, aware. Then, it was full grown cat. I wondered if it was a mimic. If I should worry about it, it coming from something like an insect. But it was very much a cat. Long haired. Grayish with black hair, and perhaps a hint of the green caterpillar it came from. It used its claws on me... but like a normal cat, didn't seem bent on really hurting me.
Somewhere with lots of people, my hand felt swollen in the palm. Painful. I saw a splinter. I applied pressure below it and pushed forward, and it popped out clean, but with pus and a translucent red goo attached, mostly on one end. I seemed to be another person, but me. Like I was watching a movie. Experiencing the thought and feeling of another perhaps. The splinter became large. And firm. About an inch long, and black. I stuck it in the eye of a man, and killed him I think. I was simultaneously simply me as a witness and knew what happened. But it was also separate. But the splinter also had a purpose. Did the man die? I forget. I know it was snuck in as a splinter. Or that's what I deduced. And men were wearing hats. Top hat like. But the smaller top hat. And rounded.
Then there was a certain regression. I remembered how my mother and a friend of hers became friends. And how I and perhaps my sister and brother became friends with some others, through my mothers friendship. I saw us as children.
Then I started trying to find Randy, Alisha's dad. I physically went to these places on the map and asked about him. Two men seemed to know who he was. They got information. I found out he used drugs. And it seems Alisha told me, or someone associated, here, that he used drugs up until she was born. He seemed a wild one. And I was jealous. How wild he could be, and how rich he had become. How healthy. I continued searching, and found myself in some house. Nobody was home. But then they were. Many cushions. Blue was a major color. They seemed to be expecting me. And I was there to rememeber. My own history.
And this seemed in the future, but I was my same age. And a cop pulled over for no reason when I was on the side of a road. Dirt. Red dirt, it seems. Orange. Maybe. Lots of trees around. Like Gatlinburg area or close. The cop seemed as if I did nothing wrong, but ordered a who gang of guys to beat me. I had memory of this happening to others. But I had done nothing, except maybe I didn't do something that would mean I call myself subordinate? Or lay down. So they beat me. Around 20 of them. And this happened many times. They seemed to be like the "unsullied" in the Game of Thrones show. Light darker skinned. The cop was closest to the leader one... I don't remember his name.
There was a place of work. Cutting wood. I was disobedient. I didn't feel I should have to do what they tell me to.
Then I ran. I ran, around a block. I was in my vibram five finger shoes. I seemed to be able to run easily. Then I was running in a marathon. And at a... stoplight I got behind the girl I was competing with. And she got ahead because cars were blocking my way to turn... I had to wait. But then I was in a car. And so was she. And I couldn't break the speed limit too much. And I saw red dirt. Red clay. Going down a hill. The road seeemed cut into quite a lot of it. Then there was water, which I drove through slowly. Quite a lot. A river overflowing. But it was shallow. And clear. On the other side, or still in, a man, Black, was walking.
I was waiting at the hub where we pick up. Usually John does this, waiting for orders to come in. My route goes really far south, so I don't handle many of the local deliveries, as I am gone for at least 6 hours, usually. But this night in this dream, I was back at midnight. And I'd usually go home... But I didn't. And there was Pizza there. And this seemed common that John or I think it was John, would buy pizza, and leave it out for everyone. I remember in some part of the dream, before, I ate pizza, and drank beer even. Like my treatment had worked and I could tolerate these foods. I remember going to the grocery and picking up this rolled up pizza that was in the frozen/cold section, but was ready and warm. I was still hesitant to eat this pizza, that John got. The Cheese, mainly. Dairy was is of my worst allergies. I took a piece of pepperoni, somewhat smaller than the others, and laid it on top of the cheese pizza, which was laying on top of the pepperoni. The pizza was Pizza Hut, or Pizza King. And then, I remember going to the bathroom. And suddenly I was in John's van, in his passengers seat, going there. Like there was a toilet in that position. And I seemed to be down the road from the hub where I pick up. Everything was coming out fine but then I felt a sort of block happens and I felt I might have to reach down there and pull it out. Then I just stopped going. I may have woke up feeling like I really had to go, but didn't really have to.
Perhaps when I went back to sleep I remember being with family. And once again eating and drinking things I normally wouldn't. Or on the verge. The pizza, before, I had one bite. And nothing bad happened. But I fear it.
I was in a parking lot of a block of stores adjacent to where a family who I worked for in one block also had another store. I worked at their natural foods store, and this was like a greeting card and party store. Jeff- the owner, was sitting outside. I am in debt to them, and they don't know. I never fully paid my tab from when I worked with them. I have a hard time paying it because I don't want to seem awkward. Right now its kind of lose lose. Here, I had gum in my mouth. A lot of gum. And I started to choke, about. And I think I almost reached in to grab it. But I may have swallowed it. Or became unconscious. Family was near, but some distance. I think some people may have been on their way to assist me.
Was with family. At my grandmas. Drugs seemed to be involved. I found a website/blog by looking at a map. There was a white area, where you could hover over it, in something like Google Maps, and the white was made up of blocks. The first one I landed on, it was like synchronicity. My ex girlfriends father, one who really liked me, for whatever reason, had written things. The timing seemed around the time Alisha, an ex, would have received a message asking her to marry me. There were pictures of her, I think, and then I saw above, and this was surprising, pictures of my family... A family picture at my deceased Grandmas, where we were. Each blog entry was marked with a picture of him. I was really curious how he got the picture of us. That Alisha may have given it to him, but was curious why I mattered to him. And that maybe I misjudged how much Alisha was into me. I seemed to lose the page. Then found it. And after the date that she received the message and I sort of reneged, there was a picture of her Jeep... Her red Jeep, wrecked. Windows all shattered, but intact. Cracks spreading out from points. In one. Others fractured and opaque. Then I lost the page, and kept trying to find it... Searching maps around Henderson, TN. The white areas. I wasn't having much luck. I wanted to study. Reflect.
My family went out. The lost page was still on my mind. We went to the market... Seemingly a Whole Foods. And my brother we ran I to an in my dream old good friend of his, that he had to separate from. The friend was working there. And better off. So was my brother. And my brother was a lot fatter before. This guy maybe too. And looked better now. He was arranging produce. They seemed to be partners back then.
Outside... My mom was going to buy beer for young girls, near a Rally's. This is out of character. And they had someone old enough anyways. Mom said she couldn't then.
I found a caterpillar, when we were somewhere. It was green, and large. And I kept scooping it up in a small glass jar- letting it crawl in, to put it outside. But it was smart, and kept coming back in. I commented to my mother, about it. And referenced moths or butterflies. Their complexity. And I saw eyes on it looking back and forth... Surveying, aware. Then, it was full grown cat. I wondered if it was a mimic. If I should worry about it, it coming from something like an insect. But it was very much a cat. Long haired. Grayish with black hair, and perhaps a hint of the green caterpillar it came from. It used its claws on me... but like a normal cat, didn't seem bent on really hurting me.
Somewhere with lots of people, my hand felt swollen in the palm. Painful. I saw a splinter. I applied pressure below it and pushed forward, and it popped out clean, but with pus and a translucent red goo attached, mostly on one end. I seemed to be another person, but me. Like I was watching a movie. Experiencing the thought and feeling of another perhaps. The splinter became large. And firm. About an inch long, and black. I stuck it in the eye of a man, and killed him I think. I was simultaneously simply me as a witness and knew what happened. But it was also separate. But the splinter also had a purpose. Did the man die? I forget. I know it was snuck in as a splinter. Or that's what I deduced. And men were wearing hats. Top hat like. But the smaller top hat. And rounded.
Then there was a certain regression. I remembered how my mother and a friend of hers became friends. And how I and perhaps my sister and brother became friends with some others, through my mothers friendship. I saw us as children.
Then I started trying to find Randy, Alisha's dad. I physically went to these places on the map and asked about him. Two men seemed to know who he was. They got information. I found out he used drugs. And it seems Alisha told me, or someone associated, here, that he used drugs up until she was born. He seemed a wild one. And I was jealous. How wild he could be, and how rich he had become. How healthy. I continued searching, and found myself in some house. Nobody was home. But then they were. Many cushions. Blue was a major color. They seemed to be expecting me. And I was there to rememeber. My own history.
And this seemed in the future, but I was my same age. And a cop pulled over for no reason when I was on the side of a road. Dirt. Red dirt, it seems. Orange. Maybe. Lots of trees around. Like Gatlinburg area or close. The cop seemed as if I did nothing wrong, but ordered a who gang of guys to beat me. I had memory of this happening to others. But I had done nothing, except maybe I didn't do something that would mean I call myself subordinate? Or lay down. So they beat me. Around 20 of them. And this happened many times. They seemed to be like the "unsullied" in the Game of Thrones show. Light darker skinned. The cop was closest to the leader one... I don't remember his name.
There was a place of work. Cutting wood. I was disobedient. I didn't feel I should have to do what they tell me to.
Then I ran. I ran, around a block. I was in my vibram five finger shoes. I seemed to be able to run easily. Then I was running in a marathon. And at a... stoplight I got behind the girl I was competing with. And she got ahead because cars were blocking my way to turn... I had to wait. But then I was in a car. And so was she. And I couldn't break the speed limit too much. And I saw red dirt. Red clay. Going down a hill. The road seeemed cut into quite a lot of it. Then there was water, which I drove through slowly. Quite a lot. A river overflowing. But it was shallow. And clear. On the other side, or still in, a man, Black, was walking.
Last night I dreamt I was curious about dating girls, who were in prison.
And I was trying to teach my mom, and perhaps another girl, how to play the game, Dark Souls/DS2. Specifically, I was showing them how to use a bow with poison arrows. I rarely use poison in the game.
One girl was Black. Her parents were with her. She had been at work, released for work. And she was going back. She had short hair. I wanted to ask her out, but something stopped me.
Another girl was a dirty blond, White. A bit taller than the other. And I seemed to become more involved with her in the time before she had to be locked up.
The environment seemed to resemble Dark Souls. And by playing it, it was as if we were in it. But it was still a game, even though integrated.
And I was trying to teach my mom, and perhaps another girl, how to play the game, Dark Souls/DS2. Specifically, I was showing them how to use a bow with poison arrows. I rarely use poison in the game.
One girl was Black. Her parents were with her. She had been at work, released for work. And she was going back. She had short hair. I wanted to ask her out, but something stopped me.
Another girl was a dirty blond, White. A bit taller than the other. And I seemed to become more involved with her in the time before she had to be locked up.
The environment seemed to resemble Dark Souls. And by playing it, it was as if we were in it. But it was still a game, even though integrated.
Title says it. Last update was in March, so here's 11 months' worth of work condensed into 4 images...(seems a bit of a strict cap, bluelight!).
It all started back in july 2012. I was working at a plantation warehouse, making almost a stack a week.
I used to be a 'hardcore' stoner, but I dropped that habit awhile back. My only interests at the time were driving & cars.
I could care less about anything else. I guess I already had the whole 'junkie' mentality going on. The "Fuck it" attitude.
Anyways, it all began with a single phone call.. one of my childhood friends called me, asking for a ride to camden. I happily obliged. I mean,
I had nothing else to do at the time, and she was putting up money for the ride.. So the adventure begins..
Initially I thought I was just picking her up, but her junkie boyfriend came along as well. I didn't mind. The more the merrier. Whatever.
It was about an hour and a half round trip. I vividly remember the first time entering camden.. It wasn't impressive by any means..
I'll be honest, it looked like a shithole. I locked the doors on the car. I'll admit, for my first time in camden, I was a bit scared, but I think I handled myself well.
Anyways, her boyfriend gets out with the money and heads around the corner.. Seconds seemed like minutes, and minutes seemed like hours..
Finally, about 5 minutes goes by and he comes back with the H. They told me to head out of camden & go to this gas station that was close by so we could do our junk..
We arrive at the gas station, and I recieve 2 bags.. I had no idea what to do with it.. I definitely wasn't going to shoot up for my first time.
Neither of them were shooters, so I simply followed their process of getting high. Dump it out, chop it up, and snort away.
That feeling. God that feeling was so right. Nothing mattered, no worries, everything would be ok. I fell in love with it.
Just one bag and all your worries wash away completely. I was comfortably numb. It couldn't get any better than that. And.. it never did.
For about 6 months I frequently drove amanda & brandon to camden to cop dope. I wouldn't say I was addicted to H.. not yet, atleast.
It took about 3 months before I was deep in the rabbit hole. Withdrawaling like a bitch laying in bed, hoping some plan would unfold..
& With this couple I was hanging out with.. there was always a plan in the making. It usually involved me as the driver, most of the time.
B & E's, finding receipts paid by cash on the ground & stealing merchandise from large franchises', scraping junk metal.. etc.. the usual.
My dislike for the couple only grew from that point on. These two were horrible people. If it wasn't for them, I probably wouldn't have a criminal record.
It got to the point where I resented them once I found out their true motives, which was, "Screw everyone & everything."
Their plan all along was to get me addicted to junk so they would have a reliable ride to go cop. & Honestly, I didn't hate them for that.
I hated them because they were straight up scum. They were always plotting for a way to scam or rob. So after 6 months of bullshit I had it.
I cut them off, and ignored them. This was also around the time when I switched to the needle. & It was glorious.
I rode solo for awhile until I found a friend who wouldn't fuck me over. That friend was ben. He was a straight up guy, I liked him.
He reminded me of myself so much, and the best part was, he had his own vehicle. He's the kind of guy who would do everything in his power to get you a bag if you were sick.
So for the next couple of months I was copping dope with ben. He never turned to the needle. I absolutely refused to shoot him up or have anything to do with it.
I knew which path he was headed on. I already walked it.
Ben was scared to drive into the hood or get out the car to cop. So I always had to drive in for him, and most of the time I copped the dope.
He was only 3 years younger than me, but he wasn't an idiot. We sort of developed this unwritten mutual agreement that we would never try to pull a quick one on one another.
And we never did. Ben ended up telling somebody rather important that he was stuck on dope, and he was sent to NA meetings and all this bullshit. Dec 18th was the last ride
to camden with him. The day after he hits me up and says "yo bro, I can't do shit no more. not even bud or readys" Well, whatever. I can deal with that. It sucks, but shit happens.
I recently met another dude who does dope and has his own vehicle as well. Joe. He's also a straight up guy, but a bit older than me. I'll occasionally go out to camden to cop
for him. But other than that, I ride solo, yet again.
It's not bad riding solo. The only aspect that sucks is the resources. If you don't know alot of people who do dope, you can deplete your resources rather quickly.
Anyways, Joe was a cool dude. However, there were a few things I didn't like about him. He took everything for granted & was a dope snob. Wouldn't sell you a bag,
Even if he had bundles & you were sick. Tough shit. Whatever, I can respect that. But when you start joking around, calling me your 'drug-mule' you done fucked up.
I ended up working for Joe. Joe ran a pizza shop business, I was his dishwasher. Fast forward - One day we're headed to Camden, and we get pulled over..
I end up taking a ticket for him because he had a border around his license plate. Great, as if I could afford this bullshit ticket? Hah. To make matters even worse..
Joe tells me he has to start letting dishwashers go because he has too many of them. Fuckin' prick. You mean to tell me, I just took a $100+ ticket for you, and you're going to fire me?
What a prick. Fast forward a couple months, I end up fuckin' joe over for $120 bucks. After all, he kinda deserved it... for the most part. Shit happens.
I didn't feel like much of a prick, it was bound to happen. His selfish attitude & rediculous personality almost makes it impossible not to fuck him over.
I used to be a 'hardcore' stoner, but I dropped that habit awhile back. My only interests at the time were driving & cars.
I could care less about anything else. I guess I already had the whole 'junkie' mentality going on. The "Fuck it" attitude.
Anyways, it all began with a single phone call.. one of my childhood friends called me, asking for a ride to camden. I happily obliged. I mean,
I had nothing else to do at the time, and she was putting up money for the ride.. So the adventure begins..
Initially I thought I was just picking her up, but her junkie boyfriend came along as well. I didn't mind. The more the merrier. Whatever.
It was about an hour and a half round trip. I vividly remember the first time entering camden.. It wasn't impressive by any means..
I'll be honest, it looked like a shithole. I locked the doors on the car. I'll admit, for my first time in camden, I was a bit scared, but I think I handled myself well.
Anyways, her boyfriend gets out with the money and heads around the corner.. Seconds seemed like minutes, and minutes seemed like hours..
Finally, about 5 minutes goes by and he comes back with the H. They told me to head out of camden & go to this gas station that was close by so we could do our junk..
We arrive at the gas station, and I recieve 2 bags.. I had no idea what to do with it.. I definitely wasn't going to shoot up for my first time.
Neither of them were shooters, so I simply followed their process of getting high. Dump it out, chop it up, and snort away.
That feeling. God that feeling was so right. Nothing mattered, no worries, everything would be ok. I fell in love with it.
Just one bag and all your worries wash away completely. I was comfortably numb. It couldn't get any better than that. And.. it never did.
For about 6 months I frequently drove amanda & brandon to camden to cop dope. I wouldn't say I was addicted to H.. not yet, atleast.
It took about 3 months before I was deep in the rabbit hole. Withdrawaling like a bitch laying in bed, hoping some plan would unfold..
& With this couple I was hanging out with.. there was always a plan in the making. It usually involved me as the driver, most of the time.
B & E's, finding receipts paid by cash on the ground & stealing merchandise from large franchises', scraping junk metal.. etc.. the usual.
My dislike for the couple only grew from that point on. These two were horrible people. If it wasn't for them, I probably wouldn't have a criminal record.
It got to the point where I resented them once I found out their true motives, which was, "Screw everyone & everything."
Their plan all along was to get me addicted to junk so they would have a reliable ride to go cop. & Honestly, I didn't hate them for that.
I hated them because they were straight up scum. They were always plotting for a way to scam or rob. So after 6 months of bullshit I had it.
I cut them off, and ignored them. This was also around the time when I switched to the needle. & It was glorious.
I rode solo for awhile until I found a friend who wouldn't fuck me over. That friend was ben. He was a straight up guy, I liked him.
He reminded me of myself so much, and the best part was, he had his own vehicle. He's the kind of guy who would do everything in his power to get you a bag if you were sick.
So for the next couple of months I was copping dope with ben. He never turned to the needle. I absolutely refused to shoot him up or have anything to do with it.
I knew which path he was headed on. I already walked it.
Ben was scared to drive into the hood or get out the car to cop. So I always had to drive in for him, and most of the time I copped the dope.
He was only 3 years younger than me, but he wasn't an idiot. We sort of developed this unwritten mutual agreement that we would never try to pull a quick one on one another.
And we never did. Ben ended up telling somebody rather important that he was stuck on dope, and he was sent to NA meetings and all this bullshit. Dec 18th was the last ride
to camden with him. The day after he hits me up and says "yo bro, I can't do shit no more. not even bud or readys" Well, whatever. I can deal with that. It sucks, but shit happens.
I recently met another dude who does dope and has his own vehicle as well. Joe. He's also a straight up guy, but a bit older than me. I'll occasionally go out to camden to cop
for him. But other than that, I ride solo, yet again.
It's not bad riding solo. The only aspect that sucks is the resources. If you don't know alot of people who do dope, you can deplete your resources rather quickly.
Anyways, Joe was a cool dude. However, there were a few things I didn't like about him. He took everything for granted & was a dope snob. Wouldn't sell you a bag,
Even if he had bundles & you were sick. Tough shit. Whatever, I can respect that. But when you start joking around, calling me your 'drug-mule' you done fucked up.
I ended up working for Joe. Joe ran a pizza shop business, I was his dishwasher. Fast forward - One day we're headed to Camden, and we get pulled over..
I end up taking a ticket for him because he had a border around his license plate. Great, as if I could afford this bullshit ticket? Hah. To make matters even worse..
Joe tells me he has to start letting dishwashers go because he has too many of them. Fuckin' prick. You mean to tell me, I just took a $100+ ticket for you, and you're going to fire me?
What a prick. Fast forward a couple months, I end up fuckin' joe over for $120 bucks. After all, he kinda deserved it... for the most part. Shit happens.
I didn't feel like much of a prick, it was bound to happen. His selfish attitude & rediculous personality almost makes it impossible not to fuck him over.
And bit its head off, then bit the back section off. I seemed to play a part.
Family seemed to be at a race. Indy 500. In the middle of the street, we were. I was in my underwear. I think. Old neighbor-friends there too.
Family seemed to be at a race. Indy 500. In the middle of the street, we were. I was in my underwear. I think. Old neighbor-friends there too.
I honestly never would have expected to hear this from Christians in general, but the fact that my expectations were proven wrong is a hugely pleasant surprise.
As more "normal" people in America and the rest of the world begin to speak out against such tyranny on a minority group - because that's what we street drug users are - our cause will gain momentum, and we may yet live to see the end of a futile conflict of interests and control on a group of people who don't deserve to be deprived of their freedom because they chose to consume a forbidden-by-man-for-the-wrong-reasons substance.
They used the Easter Holiday weekend as a chance to speak up, as it is the time when most people tend to attend church services (with the exception of Christmas).
And here it is in its entirety:
Hoorah!
As more "normal" people in America and the rest of the world begin to speak out against such tyranny on a minority group - because that's what we street drug users are - our cause will gain momentum, and we may yet live to see the end of a futile conflict of interests and control on a group of people who don't deserve to be deprived of their freedom because they chose to consume a forbidden-by-man-for-the-wrong-reasons substance.
They used the Easter Holiday weekend as a chance to speak up, as it is the time when most people tend to attend church services (with the exception of Christmas).
And here it is in its entirety:
Easter_2014_Faith_Leaders_Statement said:April 16, 2014
As faith organizations and religious leaders, we are committed to bettering the lives and realizing the human potential of society’s most vulnerable individuals and communities. More and more, this means addressing the consequences of mass incarceration and preventing those to come – and thus healing the many wounds of our nation’s misguided war on drugs.
When it comes to drugs, we should focus on the goals we agree on: protecting our kids, protecting public safety, and preventing and treating drug abuse and addiction. We join together to ask you to repeal policies that unnecessarily criminalize millions of people and place a vastly disproportionate burden on poor and black communities – and to replace those policies with just, effective and evidence-based approaches.
The United States imprisons more people than any other nation in the world – thanks in large part to the war on drugs. In 2012, there were more than 1.5 million drug arrests in the U.S., the vast majority for mere possession. The destructive effects of mass criminalization on communities across the country – particularly communities of color – cannot be overstated.
Approximately 2.7 million children are growing up in American homes where one or more parents are incarcerated. One in nine black children has a parent behind bars. Two-thirds of these parents are incarcerated for nonviolent offenses, primarily drug law violations.
And the cycle of punishment does not stop after incarceration ends. The effects of a conviction roll on and on – including the denial of child custody, voting rights, employment, business loans, trade licensing, student aid and other forms of public assistance. Criminal records are also used as a basis to deport legal residents and to bar other noncitizens from visiting the U.S. Through these draconian policies, we have created a permanent under-class of millions of Americans – with major implications for American democracy. More than 5.5 million people are disenfranchised due to a criminal record – including nearly 1 in 13 black people of voting age.
We urge you to re-evaluate our current policies and call for the repeal of these counterproductive laws. Guided by principles of compassion, justice and fairness, we make the following recommendations:
1. Repeal laws that criminalize drug possession and replace them with policies that expand access to effective health approaches to drug use, including evidence-based drug treatment.
2. Eliminate policies that result in racially disproportionate arrest and incarceration rates.
3. End policies that unjustly exclude people with a record of arrest or conviction from key rights and opportunities.
Despite our diversity, we are guided by our religious principles to serve those in need and give voice to those who have been marginalized and stigmatized by unjust policies.
We cannot sit silently while a misguided war is waged on entire communities, ostensibly under the guise of combating the very real harms of drug abuse. The war on drugs has become a costly, ineffective and unjust failure. Our people deserve better.
We urge, in the strongest terms, a complete rethinking of U.S. drug policies – and we believe the recommendations outlined in this letter are a good place to start the conversation.
This Easter Sunday, and in light of our current realities, we, leaders of faith call for a rebirth and resurrection of communities burdened by the harms of injustice oftentimes masquerading under of the guise of law and order and criminal justice.
Hoorah!