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Smoked a lot more weed than usual at the weekend. I played football with Sam and Ross and some of the local residents of Farr and everyone off the bus for about an hour on Friday which was actually quite fun. I went home that night and got a lift in on the Saturday morning. I met Alexander, Ethan, Peter and Annelise sitting around the falcon square. They were all baked and I it got sort of agro when we started talking about AMT.

We went off to our usual garden area, this time with Alexander being the monkey to get over first and unlock the door. Its a huge wall to climb and he gets it first time. Once in we all talk quite a bit but Peter and Annelise go back to Ethan's house. We stay and get really high. We then go to subway to order food. When I first realised everyone was staring at me as I was obviously high I felt like a little bit of an intrusion on society, but soon after being polite I realised I was still the same person I am sober. The Subway is good but quite messy. We smoke another joint and wait for Alexander's mum to pick us up. The car journey is pretty easy. We get there and I see Liam from school helping his Dad re-do Alexanders floor. It was good seeing him as I wasn't really high at this point.

After a while we head outside to smoke as much as we can. About 3 packed joints in we just have to stop. I look at the sky and realise just how much cloud cover there was. The only obstruction on the perfect surface like sky of clouds was a curved line in the middle. The sky set the mood as we sat there outside. It felt like it was triggering a deep sense of de ja vu and something else to complicated to understand from some sort of child-hood trip. Weird. So we go in and sit watching a movie In Alexander's house. I realise how nauseous I get on doses above 0.6 and realise that this is sort of the highest you can get without the physical effects being too much, and It was sort of time to move in to other psychedelics.

I fall into a great sleep and wake up feeling alert and refreshed with an unexpected after glow. First thing we do is go out and smoke another joint before chilling until me and Ethan were dropped off at his house and Alexander went to his grandparents. We realise we have a lot of weed but no tobaco. We roll a blunt and consider whether to go find Peter and Annelise. Eventually we do. Considering they both smoke we could of just rolled a joint with their tobacco, but instead we smoke the blunt. My mother is coming to pick me up soon but I don't really care. I get a great sort of electric/more trippy high with everything looking quite animated but not cartoony, maybe from an animated film.

My mother only notices I am high about half way through the car ride. When I tell her she goes mental and starts shouting and screaming, telling me all the things I have planned that aren't happening but I am so high I just laugh it all off, and sure enough as predicted she is almost back to normal and feeling sorry for her self 20 minutes later. Not sure she is too well in the head after all the stuff with my Dad but honestly its not something I should worry about. I get home and write a pretty good Added Value Unit for English. I wake up the next morning off 7 hours sleep as I was up quite late doing the AVU and feel fine. I had no comedown for the whole weekend, this is some good weed :D .

Alright, so this story is just about my life, but it happened to me yesterday, and I just wanted to share it with some people. Sorry for all the back-ground given, but, I’m assuming whoever’s reading this isn’t a telepathic fucking mind reader, so, bear with me.

So, overall, my drug career has almost solely focused on weed. Around 80-90% of the time that I’ve been high in my life, it’s been off of weed (and whenever I’ve done other drugs, I’ve involved a lot of weed – just keep that in mind for the rest of this blog post). I’m a pothead, big whoop.

That being said, weed isn’t cheap – I’ve had to do a lot of stupid, menial jobs just to get enough money to smoke – waiter, server, construction (over the summer), etc.

Anyway, this was all going on for me at first in late high school and then I started going to a top 20 university in the U.S. – say what you want about higher education, but, if anything, it’s a bit of fucking work. While I had always been a naturally hard/smart/talented student, as a freshman in college, weed started taking over my life. Not in a bad way, necessarily, but I just used all the money I had saved up on weed or on excursions when I was high.…it’s like, whatever genetic capacity is within a squirrel to tell that little seemingly idiotic animal to bury its nuts in the ground over the winter so that they can easily access their stores of food in the spring – yeah, I must have the exact opposite trait to that…

Either way, though, that’s all well and good for a freshman to act a fool by smoking some pot, but by my sophomore year, through my weed connections (in other words, the other people I knew who smoked weed at my dorm…), I got into Adderall too.

Now, I’m not going to get into the finer details of everything, but I used Adderall for 2 years and most of the time, I did it in perfectly normal doses (20-40-60 mg). But near to the end of my use of this common stimulant drug, I started binging for almost no reason – did about 6-8 separate sessions total where I did 150-200 mg in a 24 hour period. When this was happening, I weighed in at 190-215 pounds, so I thought I could handle the higher amounts, but uh, I don’t know man, my body hasn’t been the same since all those binge sessions went down (I did 4-5 of these binge sessions in April-May, then another 4-5 of them in November-December of 2012), to be perfectly honest.

And this has been for the last year and a half now. I still can smoke weed without any major problems, but, um, I can’t work out like I used to, my blood pressure gets pretty high sometimes, and, well, I feel absolutely miserable, mainly because working out used to be MY MAIN HOBBY…I mean, it wasn’t hard for me to get a 6 pack, or to get into light bodybuilder size. It was actually hella fun. And, the thing is, I still am unsure if most of my problems are just in my head or if they’re actually physically real – I think it’s a combination of both, but, honestly, I guess I just underestimated the damage that Adderall could do on the body. All I know is…my body doesn’t feel the same as it used to before this one month period in late 2012 when I binged on Adderall about 4-5 times within that one month time span, specifically.

But…I’m not asking people reading this for their condolences or for their well wishes or for their suggestions/comments on my medical condition. Let me tell you this much – I at LEAST FEEL LIKE I took a number of years off of my life through stimulant addiction which never had to fucking happen….all four of my grandparents lived to at least 80 for God sakes…and they all died pretty suddenly without any extensive medical histories at that age. That might be part of how I used to be over-confident with stimulants…I always just thought of how my granddads had made it to 80-90 even with a few decades of cigarette smoking between the two of them, but, oh well, that was my thought process when fucked up 3-4 years ago.

More to the point though – fuck however many years I took off of my life in the long run. In the present, I am a 24 year old man who does not feel physically comfortable in his body, a body which 2 years ago had a 6 pack and was 180-190 (I got to 215 pounds a little later) pounds of flexible muscle. Those days seem like they were 50 years ago. I’m not lying, man…why the fuck would I lie about a feeling like that?? And this just from doing too much Adderall around 8-10 times max??? (And yes, there was a lot of other times where I did caffeine, and even some cocaine a few times, but…) I don’t know about you, but I feel fucked metaphysically in some way.

Anyway, all of this bullshit was the backstory to what happened yesterday. I was chilling at my crib after having done one of my dumbass jobs for the day, a job at which my body always feels like it’s holding me back from making more tips and getting any chance at a promotion…and, well, I had a revelation for a brief second.

I thought about ALL the money I’ve spent on weed/Adderall in the last few years…I mean, guys, it easily amounts to around 40-50 thousand dollars spent. I am being serious. Addict or not, I’m a hard worker. Obviously, the vast majority of this money went to weed. Only a few thousand dollars went to Adderall…but that was all it took to get the bodily damage done (I know I keep emphasizing this point to the point of redundancy, but hey, it’s my life, and it’s true, so my hands are sort of tied in that respect).

And then I thought back to this one time in freshman year, at the college I went to…I drove these two girls I knew (one of them I’d fucked) to the tattoo parlor in downtown near our campus, and the girl that I’d fucked asked me if I wanted to get a tattoo…I said nah and she was like, ‘Are you sure, this is a really good opportunity!?’ And yeah, I didn’t get a tattoo –I’m way too stubborn a person about shit like that to just get coaxed into doing something I hadn’t even thought about getting done before. And that happened a few months before I got into Adderall, and the downward spiral began with my life and the drugs and my body not feeling good anymore.

Well, the thought that went through my head the other day – if I could go back to that moment in time in the tattoo shop, start just getting tattoos, use all the hard money I had earned and WAS to earn in the future on tattoos instead of buying drugs like weed and Adderall, then I could have an absolutely killer tattoo setup on my upper body/arms AND be 100% in my physical body, which I am definitely not currently.

And then I just think about my parents deriding tattoos as a kid, and I think, yeah, bad advice, mom and dad, you fucking prudes!

Now I have a spiritual tattoo in a collective sense, if you ask me – now I have a body which has been through the drug wringer, as far as I feel it. You can’t tell it from looking at me – any damage I have is internal – but, nonetheless, it’s in my spirit now, this enfeeblement. And I feel marked for life, but NOT in a good way. And yeah, it’s depressing as hell. I’m a very young man, I’m not even 25 yet, I’m in the fucking prime of my fucking god-damn life, but, to what avail? I can’t beg God to go back in time a measly 2 years to get my fucking act together. Nah, I’m here to stay, unfortunately. A bad physical tattoo – you can get that removed!!!! Permanent internal scars from previous drug use – not so much.

I wish I could put a twist on this shit and make it sound happier, but, well, that can’t happen. In the technological age when I had full access to reading about the dangers of stimulants like Adderall, I failed my body. My body could’ve been saved by tattoos in favor of spending that money on drugs. Because, you got to understand, I’m a greedy, gratification oriented motherfucker. Although today I’ve started to learn how to save my money, when I was 19-20-21, the only thing I knew how to do with money was to spend that legal tender on whatever I well pleased – and 10 times out of ten, aside from food, it was drugs. Tattoos could have been a money-pit diversion, and my health could have been contained. But there it is – my tattoo revelation.

And I remember when that whole tattoo situation happened when I was a freshman – I thought there was some importance to that moment when I turned down the tattoo which just sort of dawned on me yesterday.

I understand that my life could’ve taken an infinite number of paths, but, yeah, that one with me starting out on getting tattoos would have been SO, SO, SO much preferable to the pain where I’m at now. I feel like I’m imprisoned in my body for the rest of my life and there’s nothing I can FUCKING DO ABOUT IT GOD FUCKING DAMMIT.

If you’re in good health, cherish it, because that feeling that you have, of being healthy, of being alive and being able to do whatever you possibly want to with your body, that feeling is a privilege, not a right. Respect your bodily temple and don’t desecrate it like I have. Good riddance and peace be unto you my fallen brothers and sisters, even if you beg, it’s too late…we have to endure these burdens for the rest of God’s children, for those who won’t and never will understand what pain is, what opportunity wasted is, what giving but never receiving anything is. Because that’s what it is, the battered footfalls of death laughing at your scorned remains, still standing, but just waiting to lie down, fucked, for the last time.

Found my dad!

I never asked for this...

I never wanted to take drugs. I tried, every which way I could, to not take drugs. It was a decision that was forced upon me. I hated the idea, no... I loathed it. I saw drugs and drug addicts as the scum of the earth and I wanted no part in that. I vowed never to try anything, ever. I wouldn't even take Aspirin! ...I wish all I took was aspirin...

Everyday I wake up... I wake up disappointed that I woke up. Everyday starts out awful purely because I had to get up that day. Once I've woken up, it's still another 2 hours before I get out of bed. I lye awake in excruciating pain, praying that I'll be able to get just a few more minutes of peace. It never happens - the pain in my legs stops that. When I eventually do make my journey over the mountain that is referred to by most people as 'getting out of bed', I'm so tired that I can barely stand.

I got no sleep. Not because I choose not to get sleep, but because I was literally unable to sleep. Then, everyday, I would have to drag myself into the hell that was 'highschool'. I dreaded walking in the door. I was never on time. I couldn't be, it just wasn't possible. The teachers and office staff just thought I was lazy. That I didn't care... no... I definitely cared. I wanted to be able to go to school and feel normal. Actually talk to people, have friends, go to parties, sit by someone at lunch, anything... I wanted good grades, I wanted a life.

But no. All the teachers saw was another 'lazy' kid that didn't care. They would insult me, bully me, threaten me - tell me that if I didn't get my ass into school and that if I didn't do well that I was never going to amount to anything! That I would never have a life, that I would never have friends or a family. That all I would ever be was a bum. I got dirty looks from everyone. Kids, teachers... even the fucking janitors! They all judged me before they even knew me. But nobody cared - in fact, I was THE ONLY ONE that cared.

I cared about everything! My grades, having friends, my future! What they didn't understand is that my lack of stability at home stopped me from being able to function at all. I would stay up all night worrying about my family, my life...

I knew that I wasn't ever going to have a life, I knew that all I would be was a bum. I knew it. And yet, every day they would make a point of rubbing my shitty life in my face. The vice principle (Mr. Slater) was by far the worst.

I just can't believe I threw it all away again. Was doing well in college made a couple dumb decisions now I'm stuck in my .parents house no money or job. I never thought I was done with heroin. But I never thought I would get hooked like this again. Been really suicidal lately. All these people die from smack all the time. Why can't i? It's really not fair. I would rather be dead than keep feeling like this. I got a dose of 2-cb I am going to down tonight or tomorrow sit around and try to put it all together. Without some large revelation It's not gonna end well. Like at what point. Can I say "hey shit I tried I fought the good fight but it was just a little too much for me. Can't deal with the pressure without opiates.

Smoked a lot more weed than usual at the weekend. I played football with Sam and Ross and some of the local residents of Farr and everyone off the bus for about an hour on Friday which was actually quite fun. I went home that night and got a lift in on the Saturday morning. I met Alexander, Ethan, Peter and Annelise sitting around the falcon square. They were all baked and I it got sort of agro when we started talking about AMT.

We went off to our usual garden area, this time with Alexander being the monkey to get over first and unlock the door. Its a huge wall to climb and he gets it first time. Once in we all talk quite a bit but Peter and Annelise go back to Ethan's house. We stay and get really high. We then go to subway to order food. When I first realised everyone was staring at me as I was obviously high I felt like a little bit of an intrusion on society, but soon after being polite I realised I was still the same person I am sober. The Subway is good but quite messy. We smoke another joint and wait for Alexander's mum to pick
it up. The car journey is pretty easy. We get there and I see Liam from school helping his Dad re-do Alexanders floor. It was good seeing him as I wasn't really high at this point.

After a while we head outside to smoke as much as we can. About 3 packed joints in we just have to stop. I look at the sky and realise just how much cloud cover there was. The only obstruction on the perfect surface like sky of clouds was a curved line in the middle. The sky set the mood as we sat there outside. It felt like it was triggering a deep sense of de ja vu and something else to complicated to understand from some sort of child-hood trip. Weird. So we go in and sit watching a movie In Alexander's house. I realise how nauseous I get on doses above 0.6 and realise that this is sort of the highest you can get without the physical effects being too much, and It was sort of time to move in to other psychedelics.

I fall into a great sleep and wake up feeling alert and refreshed with an unexpected after glow. First thing we do is go out and smoke another joint before chilling until me and Ethan were dropped off at his house and Alexander went to his grandparents. We realise we have a lot of weed but no tobaco. We roll a blunt and consider whether to go find Peter and Annelise. Eventually we do. Considering they both smoke we could of just rolled a joint with their tobacco, but instead we smoke the blunt. My mother is coming to pick me up soon but I don't really care. I get a great sort of electric/more trippy high with everything looking quite animated but not cartoony, maybe from an animated film.

My mother only notices I am high about half way through the car ride. When I tell her she goes mental and starts shouting and screaming, telling me all the things I have planned that aren't happening but I am so high I just laugh it all off, and sure enough as predicted she is almost back to normal and feeling sorry for her self 20 minutes later. Not sure she is too well in the head after all the stuff with my Dad but honestly its not something I should worry about. I get home and write a pretty good Added Value Unit for English. I wake up the next morning off 7 hours sleep as I was up quite late doing the AVU and feel fine. I had no comedown for the whole weekend, this is some good weed :D .

and im out. permanently. 12 pack, 4 bag shot. its over quietly. im done, fuk this world.

My daily use of 2-fma has come to an end. Not because of any negative effects of the drug, but because of a dramatic change in my day-to-day life.

I got a full time job, a 9-5 Mon-Fri job, where I sit at a computer all day. I'm very happy about it, but it's not the type of situation I wanna be on 2-fma for. I don't mind the work I have to do, but I don't actively enjoy it either. When I was using 2-fma daily, it wasn't to help get me through the day, but to enhance things I already found fun and wanted to make more fun. I guess it was just odd because the thing I enjoyed so much was my job. But I just really, really loved unloading that truck. And I especially loved unloading the truck on 2-fma, it was just incredibly fun for me. I can't explain why I loved it so much, it doesn't make a lot of sense to other people. But that was part of the reason it was so hard for me to move on, grow up and get a "real" job.

Anyway, the point is, while my new job isn't bad at all, it's not exactly what I'd call "fun". So, to me, it would be a waste of 2-fma to go into work on it. I started on March 3, so it's been 4 weeks since I stopped the extensive 2-fma use. I haven't noticed any negative effects from stopping. Sober life has, however, opened my eyes to a couple of the negative things that were present when I was using so often. The biggest one is my sleep schedule. I know I said 2-fma didn't affect my sleep too much, but I realize now that it did. Now, I actually get tired by the end of the day and can fall asleep much easier. And I stay asleep the entire night or wake up just once in the middle and fall back asleep. I also feel less, idk the word for it, on edge? wound up? It's not that I'm less angry per say, I just have a longer fuse, I don't get frustrated as often. I'm unsure how much of that is due to the job switch though, as opposed to an effect of the 2-fma. But I know stimulants can have that effect on some people so it's possible.

I'm still a huge fan of 2-fma and stand firm in my belief that 2-fma is a better alternative over adderall. I don't regret my ~9 months of almost daily use at all. I did it 2 Saturdays ago and again today, just for fun. I guess this is my new pattern of drug use: on weekends/days off, just for fun. I guess that's what most people do.

I dreamed of two or three blond, long haired girls in the ocean, near a cliff face. There was rock protruding from the water, where they rested. I found myself with my face buried in ones ass, holding her upside down. And I got the feeling of her being a doll. Not real.

Then I remember being in bed, back at my parents house. And a guy was climbing on top of me. Not particularly attractive, but I became aroused, and then got on top of him. Then I came. And then came again, very intense. I was trying to dominate, with my ejaculating on him. It was aggressive. I aimed to cover him as much as I could, with what I had. I'd first come on his body/stomach chest. Then I aimed for his face. Then I said sorry, after that "moment" of sexual release passed. And he didn't mind.

I heard my mom showering. A shower running. In life I have been showering at the gym because my new apartment's tub hasn't dried proper. Every time I shower hot it smells like paint. So in this dream I said I need to go to work. And to the gym to shower. I wanted to hide him from my family. I didn't want to explain him. I finally did have to, to my brother, who came out if my parent's room- where the guy went. I said we met at the gym, and work out together. But I couldn't remember his name.

And then I remember something about my dresser. My dad had went and got my dresser. Clothes seemed to be out of it, and around.

I woke up questioning my sexuality, but I have had intense dreams of either sex. I only seem capable of having true feelings for girls. But sexually I'm rather open. I interpreted the dream, with covering, or questioned if I was covering my sexuality. Now I see, maybe only around certain people. I'm open with myself. But I dont consider the act sacred between a man and a man, like I do a man and female. Not like. Not that life itself isn't "sacred". I'm in argument, because I experience, and I prioritize.

Then later I masturbated, to transexual porn.

I really like girls. I don't care for the smell of males. I could never take seriously a transexual as a female, and date them seriously, like a female (and the girls I date need to be very on the feminine side, physically). They don't have a vagina. They don't produce milk. They aren't "mom", they're "dad". I'm dad.

Perhaps its my own desire to be a female. Not that I want to be a female (permanently, and I won't mutilate my body). But to experience it- Their power, their feelings. How to say it. I have curiosity, and interest.

I have been at points where I wouldn't care if the one I already loved, had a penis. Well, I still wouldn't. Of course I want femme, and what they are "supposed to have", but if I already loved them...

I signed up for Plenty of Fish, later. I deleted my previous account a few days ago. The first two people who viewed me were trans.

Merging.

My Seroquel
My Seroquel
It can't be defeated
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
On it I feel conceited
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Such an old friend
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Which is why I lift my pen
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Pop an ecstasy
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Think about the friends you'll meet
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Sometimes I pop two or three
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
But the milligrams stay under sixty
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Don't you dare take it away
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Violent video games I play
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Its so fun to say
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Like listening to darkcore on a bright day
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Its so exotic and chic
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Like spotting a tiger in a 4 by 4 jeep
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Definitely buy some coke
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Smoke that shit until you are broke
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Still smoking pot
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
And when we do we smoke alot
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Such a rush through my brain
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
They say that's because I'm insane
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
It puts me to sleep
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
And when I wake up I know I didn't cheat
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
I'll fold a flying crane
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Then put a bullet in your brain
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
My sanity must have flew the coop
My Seroquel
My Seroquel
Just remember it ain't for you

I have been a member here since 2005 when i first joined the attitude of the community was "to make a risky behavior as safe as possible". We accepted the fact that people where always going to use drugs so we need to arm them with the information to be as safe as possible without judging there choices. Without that ethic we are useless to drug users.

Slowly over time the administration of this site is trying to move away from that ethic. First it was decided that some drug use was just too risky to be condoned by the site so those threads where closed without the OP getting an answer. Know i see those posts being shipped to the dark side? Are we Narcotics Anonoumous.org or bluelight.ru? This policy puts the drug users we are trying to help in extreme danger. Yeah maybe the girl on methadone maitenance shouldnt shoot dope. But its not our place as a community to refuse to answer there question and for mods to delete the posts of people answering the question. Then to write some moral bullshit and ship it to TDS.

We need to decide if this site is about harm reduction or abstinance cause it cant be both.

Dope
Staring at the needle in my hand, starting to find it hard to comprehend,
The shot i took was a constant dare,
I was playing with my life,
like a kid running around with a knife.. but I didnt care.
Emotions, I had none to spare.
The dope, helping me run away,
helping me escape my own reality, and all in all helping me cope.
Truly it was my last bit of hope,until I met you.
Once I had saw your face my heart soon began to race and at once I felt i had found my place.
All because of you
a poem I wrote while I was locked up
even though I have relapsed I still wanted to show it to you guys

I am in school and I have a stunning sub teacher. She was around my age and wore a gold dress. Me and her were in the back of a flat when she suddenly found a black dot and started shouted 'This isn't my baby! its not mine!' and the situation deteriorates.

Next memorable thing I am in a friends house. We want to head out and meet people so she asks if we can go to a certain street which she calls the 'coffee box' to her father and says we will go and watch an episode of 'teen flinches'. The name sounded familiar, but so did the 'coffee box' almost like de ja vu in a dream. I think he drove the two of us there, but by that point I think her sister was in the car as well. I soon find out we are going to the cinema and that our photo will be taken. We get dropped off and as I walk there I realise I am with Alexander. First we are walking a long a street but soon enough we find ourselves in the woods.

Its dark. I first realise that I just drunk a lot of alcohol, for a little bit I feel a little odd, very confused and a little bit unable to look after myself. I am on top of a slight hill I look over and see a tree which I then realise is a hoover, hanging 10m or so up off a tree. I start question and exclaiming to Alexander 'why is there a hoover here!' for some reason at this point I believe where ever we were going was associated to a hoover, and it was a little odd to see one so early on our journey.

The following incidents happen over about 5 seconds.

First I suddenly realise that the 'hoover' is in fact just a fallen tree, at this point completely unaware of how disastrous this was. At this point I now feel like I should of been scared, but at the time I was simply too happy to notice it. We are now on a sort of path in the woods but there is no real transition onto it Alexander is in complete stasis, staring straight ahead at the side off the path of into the woods. I notice Then Alexander exclaims the terrifying thought:


The tone of his voice was very relaxed and casual.

Shroom lines is not a term I have never used in real life but in the dream I associated it with first the persisting visuals I get from an unknown source, potentially mushrooms. When he exclaims this is when I first start suspecting that something is wrong but to no real degree.

About a second later, BOOM! There is a huge white flash from behind us and a sickening sound, partially scary partially just weird/creepy. The dream goes on for about 1 more second instead of me waking up at the noise. During this second my sort of 'bad trip sense' kicks in and I am trying hard to calm myself down, suddenly realising I was probably on a huge dose of shrooms, but the sound and the flash were real.

I then woke up with a hard buzz throughout my body unlike anything I have ever experienced before along with the general buzz associated with being scared. The hard one felt like it was in every part of my body and filled every inch of me and felt a little similar to doing M-kat but a little off. I found the intensity of the buzz mildly entertaining.

Being my first nightmare in years I wanted to write it down. I have no clue how a completely normal dream went so ill-shaped, or how I was still awake for a second after the flash. I am actually glad I have this experience, plus I am out of bed 2 hours earlier than planned which is a big plus.

Not been up to that much. I was drunk in school sometime during the week, probably Tuesday off buckfast someone had left over from the Caley game. I drank enough to feel it, but being some-what responsible I stopped drinking there. I have tried to cut down on smoking due to the de-personalization I have been feeling. Friday night Me, Ethan and Alexander got 2 grams off Raymond but it looked like a lot more. We started smoking it that night quite late as Mum had friends round. It was interesting sitting at the dinner table with Richard and Margeret in quite deep intellectual conversation and Ethan and Alexander just smirking at what ever jokes they got from the conversation (not that many.) We smoked it in the other living room which was quite nice.

Woke up no problems, no-one in the house knew we had been smoking. After Richard and Margaret left we went up the hill to smoke some more we had rolled inside. Realising it was too windy we climbed a few minutes up the hill and went into the tree line. We smoke a joint there but it was quite wet in the tree's so I eventually convinced them both to come with me on blind trust that it would be better before we smoked the other joint. I had an image of these two huge tree's a few minutes walk away that I remembered as being very sheltered and dry. Upon getting there I was a little disappointed. They weren't quite as magical as I had remembered them to be, but it was dry even if we could feel the wind. We lit the other one and got super high. It was packed but it got us a lot higher than we expected to be. I didn't want to go inside this high so we stayed for a while, making quite a lot of noise and I attempted to climb the tree, doing a half decent job of it. Once up there I wanted down pretty quickly, which was when I discovered my 'tree gym'. It was a slightly bendy branch that could be used to train your muscles. Using it hurt a lot so realising it was probably pretty good for my arms I Kept doing it until my arms hurt too much. We then went down the hill and into my filthy garage. There was dust everywhere but it was better than outside and there were places to sit. We found 4 of my Dad's motorbikes down there, only one of them was functional but the rest were repairable. I wasn't really that interested as I had seen them before but Ethan was really into them and talked for a while about fixing and selling/using them, I didn't want to dampen his mood so I humoured him knowing nothing would ever come of the conversation.

We eventually went inside where I just fell asleep in my room, wasn't sure where Ethan and Alexander were, probably in the living room. Birget getting there to pick us up woke me, really tired I quickly grabbed 10 pounds I had borrowed off Alexander for buckfast and shoved my monitor and TV in her car as my mother broke my laptop screen a while ago in an argument.

Sitting in the car was pretty awkward. It was just dead silence. Birgit who usually talks a lot said close to nothing for the whole journey. I sensed something was wrong, but she didn't know Alexander did anything so it was always dodgy ground. We got dropped off at Ethans and that was the end of that part.

When we got there everything was normal, Everyone was just eating dinner but we all got called out apart from Ethan. We later found out that his parents were asking him about smoking weed, nothing to worry about really. Peter and Annelise were there for a few hours before they headed off to get smoke then go bad to Annelises's Dad's flat. I fell asleep on Ethans bed at around 7, when I woke up he had fixed some surround speakers and was going to place them around his room. He had also got me a sleeping bag and a mattress which was great. I climbed into that and went back to sleep. At some point Connor phoned asking where Peter and Annelise were and if we wanted to come out. We couldn't because of Ethan's parents. We had set an alarm for around 5 so we could go to Tesco before his dad woke up and spend the tenner on food, but the alarm didn't go off. We were woken at around 5 anyway by Ethan's cat scratching stuff but of course we were too tired to go so went back to sleep. I woke up at around 11 and lounged around for the rest of the day apart from going to Tesco to spend the tenner.


Peter and Annelise came back around 4. We smoked a joint with them but me and Ethan had to smoke from inside his room while they passed it too us out the window.

A little high, but of course better we waited around. Just as my mother came to pick me up Alisssa and Kailey phoned saying they were in a close park fucking around and they went out to meet them. I instantly fell into a huge fight with my Mother, which still rages on the next day. I need to get out of this house. Will post this on blue light later as she took the internet cable to work with her. Nice. Wasn't at school today for some reason, I just couldn't be bothered today, not that I have ever done this before. I have got some revision done though so its not all bad... Very tired, Mum should be home soon with the cable.

Still fantasizing about psychedelics, on the 1st Jack gets paid, me and Alexander are hopefully ordering it with his card, getting 20x 30mg AMT capsules, cant wait. I have the money sitting here I my room, resisting spending it very well.

We are our own map,
We possess the key to the gate,
The gate that can open to a number of gardens,
We can walk and be presented with the same features,
Yet have many a different perception,
And this perception can be a doorway into a different experience.
We are the deciders as to how our journey is experienced,
Whether that be joyful, full of laughter or plain ugly, black, bleak, full of stormy clouds

To be continued later.....

I finished my very first half marathon in 2 hours and 17 minutes.... and I am pretty proud - its a huge accomplishment for me I had never run that far and was half expecting to have to get picked up by the shuttle (they pick you up if you fall under a 15 min per mile pace overall) but I actually did really pretty well. Better in fact than I had initially anticipated or hoped for. The run took place in Moab Utah which was gorgeous, we ran through a box canyon next to the Colorado river and it was awesome. Also, I did the run while sleep deprived as my 11 month old son was up for most of the night with a fever (he got a little virus that pretty much got better the next day). And my left boob really hurt the whole race because it was engorged as a result of munchkin nursing a lot more because he was sick and then me having to leave early in the morning. ( my boobs haven't been engorged like that since he was like 3 months old) And all 3000 participants had to wait outside in the cold for 1 1/2 hours before the start of the race (there was no sun because of the canyon) I really should have brought warmer sweats with me.
anyway it was a fucking incredible experience!!!

When I was 22 or 23 (those years are kinda foggy for me) I had a problem with cocaine. At the time I would have called it and addiction, but that was before I had experienced meth or heroin. I knew I needed to quit. One night, I had a really bad experience and I OD. I didn't OD in the sense where I died, or had a seizure. But I definitely over-dosed. I knew that if I closed my eyes and tried to sleep that I would die. At the time, it was not uncommon for me to go through and eight-ball a night, on my own and I was regularly smoking crack. I was with my boyfriend that night, and needless to say, it freaked him the fuck out. He had first blown coke when I brought it over to his place about eight or nine months earlier. He didn't tell me it was his first time, and I got really pissed when he nearly blew it all off the table. (We all know how that goes!) But since then he had been partaking with me on almost a daily basis. From that moment forward, he quit. I told him I quit, but of course I didn't. I knew my dealer sold meth, but I had never tried it. I decided that I would see if I could ween myself off of coke with meth. Now keep in mind this was probably 2001 or 2002, so although it was definitely well known, it didn't have the same reputation that it does now. I was completely naive to the dangers.

I don't think I really even need to tell you what happened next. I was almost immediately addicted, since I was already addicted to uppers. And within 3 years, my life was a total shambles. I was too skinny, I was flaky with all my responsibilities, I never slept. I'd go 4 days regularly without sleep, which I contributed to my schedule working as a chef. But all I would do is go to work or school and smoke meth out back behind the dumpsters (and a fair amount of crack too, depending on who I was with).

I was only able to quit after re-introducing heroin to my life, which I was fine with because I didn't even think about addressing that problem for many years. But yes, I know now that's not the way to quit any drug.

Flash-forward seven years later. I'm hopelessly addicted to heroin still, but my life is still 180 degrees better than it was when I was on meth. This time, when the opportunity presents itself, I think... "Why not just a little? I know what I'm getting myself into this time and I can control it. Anyway, quitting meth is nowhere near as bad as quitting heroin." I was forgetting what a painful experience it was. I dabbled with it for a little bit, taking it orally, so the bioavailability was lower. And pretty soon I was taking homemade speed pills every morning before work. My productivity is already starting to falter, but I don't care because I feel great.

Then, I find out you can shoot it. "You can slam this stuff! Holy-Moly! Let me try!" And on my birthday, as a present to myself, I choose to IV meth. It was everything I thought it would be a more. And I still had some vague notion that I would be able to control it.

Flash-forward again. Almost exactly one year later. I'm 88 pounds, I've lost two jobs where I was making about $100k at each. My family now knows because I nodded off on the subway and my phone was stolen and some asshole decides to post all my pictures online and send them to my parents (nudes, syringes, blood, drugs, everything). My friends don't speak anymore. And my face looks so bad, people at my last job thought I had shingles. Yet I think my life it completely fine. "Everyone is just hung up on the IV stigma!" I said to myself. My boyfriend is the only person in my life, probably because he was a user too. And both of us just go on telling ourselves that everything is normal. We don't know what all the fuss is about.

We decide to go to NYC to see Phish for New Years. As he was going to the bank to pick up money for 3 ounces of heroin for our trip, he gets pulled over after a hit-and-run, while smoking a pookie, with 13 ounces of meth in the car. Now I'm not saying any of this to incriminate him. It was only circumstantial that it happened to him and not me. It could have been either of us.

Luckily, as far as legal ramifications go, he made out pretty well. Actually, the event probably saved both of our lives. He was required to go to mandatory rehab, and on January 17th of last year, we quit meth.

The difference it has made in our lives can't even be accurately described. An average day would consist of alternating meth/heroin shots from sun-up to sun-down. Family visits turned into nightmares, as we ineffectively tried to hide our out of control addiction. Not even deny the addiction, but deny the use entirely. If you've ever met a meth addict, it's beyond obvious. Yet we had been content with the way things were in the fucked up, bizarro-world universe, that we thought was "normal".

Now, I'm not perfect. I'm still a junky. But cutting out meth literally made the difference between life and death for me. It was very hard to quit, even with heroin. Sure, the physical withdraws aren't the same. But emotionally it ruins you.

I recently saw a post on bluelight that read something like "Try meth just once? Or maybe I can do it a few times, but I won't let myself get addicted." I just can't believe with all the hype that it has received over the last decade that anyone will still think that. The whole time I was quitting again, I kept thinking "how could I let this happen? How could I believe that I was different and that "this time" I would be able to handle it and not get addicted?" But people have this faith in themselves that is not justified. Sure, there are lots of people who try it once and don't use again. But if you are going to try to make it a "recreational" part of your life, be prepared. Nobody thinks they will be the ones to turn into a meth addict. We all see the pictures and think "That can't happen to me!" But trust me. It can and will if you take it lightly. This article does a good job of outline the dangers associated with meth, with the scare tactics that some politicians try to use. It's good reading for anyone who's thinking about trying it for the first time.

http://www.forbes.com/sites/jacobsu...s-the-surprising-truth-about-methamphetamine/

I don't want to be too preachy, and I would certainly never tell anyone not to touch drugs. That would be totally hypocritical. But I've been around the block a few times. If you are thinking about trying it. Just know what you're getting yourself into. I'm not different. You're not different. And it can happen to anyone!

Peace, Love and Rock 'n Roll!!

D_D

Why, every time I insert a pic the right way from my iPhone, does it come up side ways? It really is annoying.

hi everyone! so i just wanted to test out the blog function because i've never tried it, and I also want the "blog entries" count on my account. ha!

anyways here I am sitting on a bench in a park near my school, it's spring already and I'm blissfully bathing in the Sunshine with a cool, refreshing breeze listening to Grantchester Meadows by Pink Floyd.

this is a reminder for me and you of how great life can be if you just want it to be and turn off your mind for a sec.

Hope you are all enjoying yourselves in this spring day.
cheers

Starting to realise that some places are just not good for me.
1, keep away from places/people I can't trust - especially people who repeat stuff I say.
2, stay away from people/places that trigger me.
3. stay away from people who wind me up / turn on me.
4. stay away from please/places I'm not gna be accepted n only remember for negative behaviour when I've spent time being positive n helpful.

I'm not going to recover unless I do that.

I realise that now

I've been going to the wrong places.......

The most memorable image from my dream was a rider riding a horse backwards, jumping a fence. I saw it happen a few times. I was on a road, and it was after hours. I wasn't supposed to be there it seemed. Nobody was. It was like there was a curfew. Something dangerous was out.

I saw this girl, and this guy. The girl was on the other side of a fence, on a dirt road. To my left. There was lots of hay, everywhere. We seemed to be up on a rolling hill, and it gradually would descend ahead, and behind. I was interested in her. But then I saw this guy, and realized that they were, or might be together. And the guy was shirtless, and shaped well, I think, so I didn't think I was able to compete, as I am not in such shape. He was then jumping this horse, over a fence, over the right side, like competitive, but backwards. And the horse would put it's head down to it's side, like a clock hand from the side, now it's head upside down, and facing the opposite direction/backwards. This made me wonder how they trained it to do that, kind of worried for the welfare of the animal, although it didn't seem bothered much. Perhaps it was even excited to do something it had learned, that was challenging.

In some part of this dream, or another, I was walking with a lot of Black people, and my walk changed. There was like a school of fish, of Black people. They were all walking somewhere. I was good with some. I felt okay. I was the only White dude, but this doesn't bother me much. We were going to some store. Then one became racist with me- an old man. He attacked Whites, saying we polluted the planet. That because of us it's going to shit. And I almost reveled in it. I did. It was a "yea, we can do whatever the fuck we want, because we're the only one's capable of actually rebuilding it/fixing it.", something like that. This was also a bit, of a, uh, White is better-ism, showing through. I felt threatened, so it was a reaction. I tend to consciously try to fight this "I am better"-ism, and, uh, I think it would be neat if I found out I had Black, or some other grouping in me, other than Northern European. And I know down the line we all descend from the same... Somewhere down the line.

As well I remember being around people. And perhaps a fight. Maybe people got injured. I can't remember. I remember a lot of women/girls. Mothers/daughters. Son. Fathers elsewhere. Like I was part of some other family. And buying the movie, The Fifth Element, again. And realizing I had already bought it. Guns. Doctors. Someone's head was sawed off at the top. A friend's. I was taking care of him. He had a surgery. They cut the top of his cranium, and then when they put it back on, it was like it was up to me to align it back onto his head, and make sure it stayed. And my friend, or was it relative? Was careless, and fell over, reaching for something. I had a thought to at least wrap his head, like they should have after surgery, to secure the section of skull that had been removed during surgery. I don't think I got around to it. Some girls came to pick him up.

There was a game I played with some. I won some, and then I lost some. I used my car. I lost to a girl, some final time.

I was delivering a package, in one... It was a Pizza, to a campground. I found myself at Paoli Peaks, in Paoli, Indiana, and I saw a hill with lots of snow, ahead of me. Very large. Looked like Perfect North, in Lawrenceburg. My GPS was confusing me. I was in the parking lot. Just before the dream ended, I remember seeing an entrance to a campground, wood framed, and surrounded by woods. I assumed skiers/boarders were camping back there. It was late. 11-Midnight.

The other night, I forgot to write this one down... I dreamt I dated a girl, who works at Whole Foods at the registers, and that she when I met her, had one eye. One eye in the center. This was uncomfortable, but I didn't want to be shallow, and not give her a chance. We met in her apartment once, and it seemed I was looking for a place, near there. We talked on the phone and it turned out she was just down the hall. And I seemed, to talk to her boyfriend. But was or had been on a date with her, and had been in a house with her, and she was on top of me, and had kissed me. But I talked to this guy, and she asked me if I had gotten the four tickets to the orchestra/opera, which was North. I hadn't. Then I remember walking through the grocery with her, and she looked different, but still with one eye. The next time I came into contact with her, at the grocery in life, she was making conversation with me, like normal, and I felt like I was holding the line up because she just kept talking to me. A few of them do that, but she particularly I remember does this, where I will be there, and she will stop paying attention to whoever she is checking out, for a lot of part, and shift attention to me, and even after, will hold up the line, still talking to me. She's so relaxed, telling me about her night, and about the weather. And she says she wore her short jeans today, lifting her leg up to show me. I was expecting to see leg, but she was being humorous, as they were just rolled up a little. I told her that I thought "what are you doing? showing me leg?", and I found it a little peculiar that this occurred after my dream- the next time I saw her. Peculiar, but not entirely surprising. I enjoy these things. Resonances, in forms (a "scientist" will likely tell me that blah blah blah humans find patterns blah blah blah). But here the line had stopped, and I feel bad to hold things up, so I closed the conversation for then, and moved on.

Today I sent a message to a girl, on OkCupid, who has been in my favorites for some time. Red head. I asked her how much she charges for massages. I was sort of playing. She said she gives good massages in her profile. Then, accepting that she may not message me back and that I wasn't really invested anyways, I told her, that regardless if she messages me back or not, that she is beautiful, and she can take that. Like if she takes anything away from me, to take that. She did get back with me, many minutes later. Her name is Mary, and we may meet up when she gets back into town, from visiting her mother, who just had surgery. She said she had court, and some appointments, and I asked her if she was "bad", playfully, and she said that according to "society" she is crazy bad, and that this court was for that. She said she had an experience, that she said was quite spiritual. But somehow she got caught. She read my profile, and resonated with my "crazy", and told me she liked how my mind worked. I asked her if she wanted to get crazy together... To give each other massages... playfully- I asked. And she was interested, and gave me her phone number.

She said her craziness began in February, or something happened in February. I have noticed that this is a time, or was a time in my past when my "crazy" (it's not, like a big bang isn't crazy), was very high. So this interested me. I'd like to at least sit down and get to know her a little. Not that I think I'm getting married, or having a relationship. But I'm curious.

Last night I dreamed I was with Lady Gaga, and many people seemed to not like her, and she threw up on something, and some of it got on me, and I almost threw up. We were kind of together, and I was accepting of her. I think she's cute, and I like to look at her- I find her interesting. It was prior to a concert. She got naked at some point, and was much bigger than she seemed. Wider. She was also shaved, I noticed. I prefer hair.

Then I was in a place where it seemed people- friends from my hometown that didn't seem like friends to me anymore, were running some kind of warehouse, or operation of sorts- not just warehouse, and they began to play instruments, and sing, and Kyle, a twin of a guy who died about four years ago, Matt, came up to me and was asking me to sing. Herdrichs were there, and Burgy, and Alston, and many others. But they wanted me to sing. I wasn't doing anything. I was just watching. It was like they began to get mad at me for this- for not participating. Like my instrument was my voice and I wasn't using it. Then I was in what seemed to be a band outfit, on some floor of the same building that we were in, waking up from a sleep. They were setting up a banquet of sorts, earlier. But I was a couple of floors up. New stuff. Not completely ready. But the floors were nearly the same. I had changed my shirt because it was puked on, earlier. Red was their color now- The band outfit. Golden tassels. Like marching band, perhaps. But I felt like it was military. My brother found me.

I had a dream yesterday, where I killed Mr. Widmore from Lost's- this person's (his face/association) new wife, before he got to meet her. The dream took on elements of the game, Dark Souls 2. I summoned someone to my world, or something, by touching a summon sign, and basically intercepted her before she went to him, and PVPed her. He was mad at me, but he knew it was a game.

The night before, I had a dream my friend Mike who looked more like Charles killed another friend, who may have looked like J.R. It was accidental, and we were both on trial. We were friends, and on a team. I didn't turn him in, but feared he would say I did it. It was sad that the other friend died, but it wasn't anything that could be helped, so I didn't want the law involved. Jeff Cooley- an old soccer coach from high school, seemed to be the judge, or who was in front. I remember boarding up certain walls, with Charles, who was Michael. Some kind of competition. Like paintball, but I don't remember paintballs. The one who died had a sister. I don't remember much. But the one who died came back. He came back, and he was like a dwarf. And he attacked someone I think. He attacked, and fell onto the ground, hitting his head. There was immediate swelling, in the center of his forehead. It seemed very dire. Mike (Charles) tried to help him, recognizing how serious it was, but this guy was soon dead, again, and it was sad, again, but at the same time, he had acted rabidly, so I was relieved he was gone.

The night before, I had a dream that had a cat in it, and lots of people around- like a party, and worrying that I had lost my license. And my dad was there, but was a completely different person. Much younger. And buzzed/shaved head, and wearing a shirt with cannabis leaves all over it. This dream also seemed to incorporate environments from Dark Souls, as I had started playing.

I don't think anyone should see drug use as a matter of right or wrong. Bluelighters are better than that.

Drugs are tools. All of them.

Drugs are weapons. They are powerful ones.
Methamphetamine made world war II a completely different ballgame with super soldiers.
Steroids make individuals more aggressive, more competitive and stronger in every way physically.
Opiates null pain and improve working conditions.
GABAergics can be used to induce deep sleep and improve anxiety issues.

Yet we live in a society where the human race is faced with difficulty using these tools. Our minds are not yet developed enough to fully utilize them to their full potential. So many people struggle with addiction. Dopamine is more important than life itself.

The same reason the lab rat in drug addiction tests returns to the water containing the heroin or the meth. People are not capable of making a fully logical decision above a certain threshold of pleasure and pain.

We are both cursed and blessed to have these compounds still capable of being used. They are a road block in our evolution, but yet they can also be used to speed up and alter our progression. The FDA may not approve them, however if you still choose to use them, that only signifies that you trust the faith of your own scientific knowledge over that of the government's.

My theory is to look at Prisons. They are full to the brim and overflowing with people who have dedicated their lives to drugs. The US has the highest amount of people using psychoactive substances, it also has the highest prison population per capita. Prisons are quite literally a means of eliminating the genes containing drug addict behavior. Because we are all just representations of a genetic code.

I can assure you that most all things drug related is white and black. Horrible and wonderful, which makes a drug user's life such a confusing mess of highs and lows.

I awoke this morning to see everything was in its place. As I had fallen asleep early the previous night, I had awoken late (12PM).

I stood up and walked to the kitchen. Drowsy. The sun was already up in the sky. The heat of the afternoon drilled into the sidewalk.

The dreary fog of tiredness covered my eyes. I slipped back into my room and fell asleep. Now reawakening at 3PM. I could easily continue sleeping, however work was in an hour.

This is the life I live. Every waking moment is a constant struggle against lethargy. Sloth. One of the 7 deadly sins. It has taken over the life of everyone in my family.

Stimulants are normally known to cause anxiety, paranoia, jitters and occasional discomfort. But I've never regretted taking any dose of them. It's like they fill a missing piece to the jig-saw puzzle that is my brain. My body is able to function without wanting sleep. I do not know why this constant pull toward the bedroom happens.

All I can think about is getting some form of stimulant. Some form of stimulant so I can draw. Some form of stimulant so I can work. Some form of stimulant so I can talk to friends.

Caffiene only works for so long. Amphetamines, phenidates... cocaine. I'm addicted to all equally. They bother most people. Drag them into stressful comedowns. Some people think, "Who would ever like these?" as they're coming down and unable to sleep for days. I have never fit into that statistic.

As I push forward, I enjoy the euphoria and uplifting, productivity they provide me with. Call me an addict, but they're tools. I do use them for enjoyment, but they also help me get through the day. Without them I would never wake up.

Nothing really to report as I have just been at home last week or so. Lost my phone in town last tuesday as I left it on the bus, found 6 or so people then had to leave to get on a bus to get my phone back. But the bus driver being a old shit ignored me being on the stop and I had to chase it for 3 minuites. Exhausted I got on and told him I had left my phone on the bus. Some guy sitting where I was sitting looked really scared suddenly but I didn't say anything, I phoned it and it had been turned off, definitely stolen. Disapointed I went back to meet everyone and they had all left apart from the people waiting for me. We walked back to Ethans and I met my mum. Really gutted at loosing a £150 phone a week into having it, worst thing was it was unlocked and there were messages about boosting houses on it...

Apart from that just been at school and home, doing lots of exercise with punch bag, at least 7 hours of gaming a day and some occasional school work, I've enjoyed it. I was off mildly ill on Thursday and Friday, Alexander came round fri-sat and we went car shopping but some how we got nothing... a little disappointing but we had a good time so I'm glad we did it.