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I went to the grocery. Whole Foods. There inside, I looked for red, challenging, again. I see the closest approximation, in about a second- or the warmest color of hair, on a lady, who was getting mushrooms. I take note. I'm not sure if it's "red", in the moment, and challenge myself, and doubt, but it's warm, and closest to red that I see. I want to share my experiences, but "is this worth mentioning?". To me, it might be applied to meaning, easily. The world is round, after all. But I didn't see a theme worth mentioning, yet, to another. To just "keep some things to myself", I thought. "There is nothing that would mean anything to anyone else". I got stuck, then, unable to pass through lanes, as the place was very crowded. I try one way, and wait for a second, but it is not clearing. I try another, toward the lady with warm hair, and it is also a bit congested.

I turn around toward the entrance at some point, in doubt, and see a red-headed girl with a Black male, have just entered. This excites me, as yesterday, both times I was there, as I wrote about, I saw pairings of red and black.

I get Apple Cider Vinegar, my 16 ounces a day, and continue on. I pass the Apple Juice, forgetting it at first, but then remember, and go to it, and I see a guy wearing a unique Black and White suit, there in front of the apple juice. He is well dressed, and clean. Stylish. He steps out of the way as I make my way to look at the juice, to make room. What I normally get... A gallon-jug a day, is not there. I make my choice and notice he is looking at coconut water. He's trying to make a choice between them. They are all blue- the containers. I advise, and she says he is trying to find the ones not from concentrate. We talk a little. He sounds effeminate. Nice guy.

Next aisle over is the packaged chicken, which I decided to get today, to save money. At least a few bucks. I take minute or so to decide which package I want. I finally decide, and then look up, turning right, and see the Red-head, and the Black guy down the aisle close to me.

In the check-out, a guy with a striking color of Blue jacket comes in behind me, and I make room for him. The Red-head and the Black guy for a moment step in this line, and I see a singlular Red-head walk by, to the bread, by them, wearing a lot of Black. Then an announcement occurs over the system that says those with small amounts can come to the customer service station. I study the man's jacket who is behind me, as much as I can, as it has some logo on it that matches what I saw on his beanie... It looks like a deer, of sorts. Deer like animal. The one item I first made notice of that he put down was cheese, but I forget the name of it, though I read it.

I see as I check out, the Red and the Black at a register in front of all the other registers, facing North to South, where the regular ones are Northeast to Southwest. It is a singular one, and not actually the customer service desk, that I knew of. They are renovating, and things are changing around. Loren is checking them out. Loren always smiles at me, seeing me before I see her. I believe I followed red out of here.

Driving home, I see a striking, Blue car- a BMW 328i, as I made my way to Meridian, where I stopped at a light, beside this car. I first noticed it's license plate, which said simply, ZUS, and said "Zeus...", in my mind. The guy inside was wearing a Grey hood over his head. I was wearing a Blue hood, which I noticed was of a similar shade as his vehicle. Now that I think, my car is silver, so I can say the same of his hood, for mine. We both nodded. He was the first I saw wearing a hood, today. Maybe I just noticed, because of the spike in attention, admiring his car, and paintjob.

ZUS turned left, with the Green arrow, heading South. I was in the lane to continue heading West, on 86th, home. As he turned left, I noticed a Prius of the same color of Blue (very close appoximation), coming behind me... Lady driving. Green light. Go. As I make it through the intersection, as I cross, I see the same color of Blue, close enough, on a van coming opposite, coming East. It is separated from the other vehicles by a significant gap, in either direction, to stand out as it does. The Prius then passed me.

I make a stop at Redbox, to turn in a movie, Last Days on Mars. I try to write this, but somehow it got deleted by the time I got home.

I see another car of the color of Blue, after making my next turn, onto Ditch. It's not on the road, but it's driving perpendicular with me, in a parking lot to the East- to my left.

Arriving home, as I turn to go through the gates I see a White Prius also waiting to turn in on the opposite side of the road, and as I enter, I noticed a White VW SUV behind me. "White and White", I think. Ahead of me I- continuing what I had been doing, notice a Black vehicle- an Acura MDX, and ahead of it, a Black Malibu. Two Whites at my entrance, behind me, and two Blacks ahead of me. My car is silver.

Making my way to my space. I am out. I notice the same color of Blue, on the car next to me. Similar. The color looks like the title bars here on Bluelight. Similar. This car, to my right, to my South, as my car parks facing East, is the first girl I met here where I moved- my neighbor's- Gina's car.

I could connect more to this. "The world is round". But I need a stopping place. What I wrote beyond this, I will write in a comment.

But as I wrote this, my most recent visitor on this blog is as listed, 08bluesmart.

I just saw that someone in r/LSA posted a link to this page. This archive was an effort to propagate info about MG seeds. I'm still trying to do that (for other subjects too). Lately I post about the subject in these threads: post-16411777 (that links to a recent finding of mine about clavines)  #29540369

I was banned from reddit for no reason and I've been too lazy to send reddit an email. Until then, I want to take this as an opportunity to say that I'm looking for people who can make posts on reddit on my behalf.

My contact info:

[email protected]

https://www.instagram.com/moving9876543/

For twitter, you can make posts on this page: h‍ttps://x.com/moving012345/status/2041613926710841534 (cuz private messages require premium)

I've since edited a lot of the info, and newer findings, into the ergine Wikipedia article. This is a copy of that article before it was heavily edited. That version and the latest version are still a mess (the article is basically a mish-mash of info about ergine, other natural ergolines, and I. tricolor).


Download
Updated: 3/14/2014

Highly pertinent update: How to filter clavines out of morning glory seed preparations. Clavines are responsible for the excessive vasoconstriction.

PM me if you'd like to be added to a Bluelight PM list or email list for updates.

contents:

human trials of isolated lysergamides
alkaloid-specific info
chemical analyses of morning glory seeds
morning glory seeds and their connection to ergot-related fungi
naming issue, Ipomoea violacea/Ipomoea tricolor
publications
vasoconstriction and other somatic effects
cyanogenic glycosides
insight into extraction methods
is there a toxin(s) found in the fuzzy outer layer of A Nervosa seeds?
ololiuhqui, spelling and pronunciation
misc
cultivation
preparation method used by the mesoamericans
synthesis of lysergic acid amide
animals chipmunks tripping on morning glory seeds
are morning glory seeds treated with a fungicide or a deterrent?
good resource for scientific articles

.

Download
Updated: 3/14/2014

PM me if you'd like to be added to a Bluelight PM list or email list for updates.

contents:

human trials of isolated lysergamides
alkaloid-specific info
chemical analyses of morning glory seeds
morning glory seeds are infected with fungi related to ergot
naming issue, Ipomoea violacea/Ipomoea tricolor
publications
vasoconstriction and other somatic effects
cyanogenic glycosides
insight into extraction methods
is there a toxin(s) found in the fuzzy outer layer of A Nervosa seeds?
ololiuhqui, spelling and pronunciation
misc
cultivation
preparation method used by the mesoamericans
synthesis of lysergic acid amide
animals chipmunks tripping on morning glory seeds
are morning glory seeds treated with a fungicide or a deterrent?
good resource for scientific articles

I got a membership to a gym, simply to shower there. My new apartment's tub wasn't cured right, and the paint wets every time I take a shower. Trying to let it dry. May be re-doing it myself.

I had already showered, and was leaving, just about to walk out the door, but I realized I forgot my underwear and baking soda in the shower. I turned around and went back in to the locker-room. My shoes came untied as went in, so I kneeled and tied them. Either before, kneeling to the ground I made recollection of the image as I may have caught it, or as I began to rise, I saw a guy directly in front of me with a very large tattoo on his back of a cross, with a chain over his shoulder.

This fit, the motion and image, even though my intended action was seemingly unrelated, on a surface of thought. Kind of like convergence.

Alright so I was chatting online with friend n0n00dz4u and we were talking about the neo club kid movement that we were both actively participating and trying to promote at home by messing around in cyber space and going to raves and shows with fellow club kids and heads from our respective areas.

As we talked further and further he began to speak of the differences between our two scenes as differences in vector. I asked what a "vector" was and was greeted with a long rambling comment involving a whole explanation of what he called the sector, vector, and cypher concept. I asked for a brief quip so I could blog and received a favorable response.

From what I understand and from what my online friend explained to me is as the following. The Neo Club Kid movement is on the map. If a single person is willing to adopt a certain lifestyle and call it a movement, it is relevant whether others want to recognize it or not. Once people gain understanding and knowledge of a movement they enter what is known as a sector. A sector is a sort of faction from the general understanding and way of life. It is the singular area in which a movement survives. Outside of its a sector wait people who are not part of a singular sector because either they do not know or want to know about the various sectors available to them. Once inside of a sector you enter a vector. A vector contains your friends and the group with who you operate within the movement. This can include people in your area as well as people you talk to online. Being a part of a vector is important because it gives you the social structure to survive inside of a sector.

Now the most important concept is that of a cypher. Within the sector and vector lies the cypher. The cypher represents you and your closest friends within your sector and vector. The cypher is the circle of trust that exists as a partnership between you and a select few. In smoking circles there is usually a large group of smokers, then a smaller group of those who frequently smoke together. Inside of this smaller group usually lies a small clique of people who almost always smoke together. They pool their resources and often are much closer to each other than anyone in the two other groups. This small clique is known as a cypher. That analogy specifically should help explain the concept a little further.

My interest in the concept is definitely piqued and I look forward to taking it further and incorporating it as a part of my lexicon. I think its important that any movement have an original lexicon that makes it unique from other groups or people and I think the further development of this concept will only aid the faction in its progress and growth.

the earliest I remember, I was in someone's place.

car wreck. can't slow down fast enough. it seems it slows down to a certain speed and just keeps going like it's on ice, not that it's on ice. the wreck was up the road. many people i knew around. i managed to stop by putting the car sideways.

there were lots of plants. i bought a lot of plants. i hadn't realized how obsessive it got, flowers hanging from the ceiling. cacti, and flowers. some looked like power-flowers.

there was a book that I found, that showed cave-men looking people, and a christian cross. the book was orange. i associated it with my mythology book that my mom got me for christmas years ago. i found it under a tree, a pine tree, undamaged, opened to a picture of a- an image of a red fox.

there was a dead reptile, or some kind of half plant half reptile-like thing, in the porch area or whatever it was that i had gathered all these plants in. screened in porch-like. some plants were dying of neglect, already. i didn't remember i had so many. i was in a ladies house, this whole time, using this space. she didn't mind too much. her son had just died. sometimes i felt insensitive. she said she had to make room, i think, for a baby, who was coming some way or another in june. that it was okay if i stayed until then.

my grandmother was there. she had a painted face. she's deceased. purple/violet with reflective paint mixed in. like a dancer. lines, simple lines. minimal. in ways hindu-like. she looked tiny, compared to how she looked. younger. but i knew she had been dead. it was almost as if she didn't know. i think her clothing might have been purples, as well. she remembered falling just a moment ago, and we were too busy to deal with her, on a personal level, like people seem to with old people sometimes.

an older black lady, dressed in orange, had just gotten mad at some of us for being away from the group. and perhaps because we were using opium. we were in an "opium den". a basement of sorts. I descended in there following my brother in law's lead- a brother in law who does not use drugs, though may have experimented with marijuana, and has a thing for coffee. and hiking, and writing, and writing about God. he was really open and not considering it a bad thing at all, more like an adventure- an activity, which was surprising to me. so nonchalant. i thought maybe it got him closer to God in some way. i had my head down, my hat on, and traded the first hit out of a stone pipe, with a stone pipe of my own, giving it to the one who had the stuff, but then he seemed to give it back, or to another. the stuff was very potent, and the taste rich, like a coffee-marijuana resin. not like the flowery opium i know. i took a deep hit, and held onto the pipe, which seemed to bother one guy, or worry him that i may drop it, but i maintained, and made eye contact, and then handed it off to him. and he is the one who had the pipe i gave.

i then noticed everyone. i knew them. the guy who had the opium that we were using was one, and then another, who was J.R., a guy I used to be friends with, but who friendship sort of dropped with, perhaps after I took his girlfriend on a date, when they weren't dating. but they dated for years and years, from middle school through college, with periods of being broken up. i was always curious about her, from childhood on she was my longest crush, and i saw her first, and he just got with her, first, not having any idea of my 7 year crush, and i didn't hold it against him, so, what a fucker. anyways. he married christina, and here he had the opium. but it was another guys. and i knew all of them. and though brandon, my brother in law, brought me down there, i don't remember seeing him again.

i had a thought while sitting there feeling the first hit come on that i should have taken more. my seat reclined back, and forth. flexible. i wanted more. but i was fine with the one hit, on that idea that i did want more, and might want more after. not that pure opium is that addictive, i guess.

the lady in orange made us stop. black lady. big orange hat. salmon-orange, actually, was her clothing color?

j.r. shook his head, in annoyance, and we acknowledged we both felt the same, with eye contact. who is this lady? of course, she wanted us to rejoin the group, so, eh. she might be right.

here is where my grandmother showed up, with painted lines on her face, on her forehead, and down from her eyes on her cheeks, wavey lines, plum-silver, and purple. slightly smaller.

i remember walking with my dad, earlier on. he was warning me of a red-wolf spider, that was apparently rather poisonous. i seemed to have no fear of them, or any spiders. i had been spending a lot of time in nature, with plants. gathering plants, perhaps, or taking care of them.

there were tiny little men-things, who were no more than a foot tall. less. they were seemingly covered in snow. they hid in these chambers, on the ground. it was known that they always rested/stood where they could see at least a slice of lava from volcano, or something. something. so i looked where they were looking, and they were looking at these things that might appear like whistles, with a barrel, a half barrel coming out of the ground, formed from fire, or something. they seemed like natural things, these little guys. they were rather moody, too. i'm pretty sure they attacked me when i got between them and their views of these... fire whistles. not whistles at all, but just visually it resembled. ovens, maybe. clay. all natural formations. the men seemed made of clay and snow. what they looked at, religiously, made of clay, and fire. i remember kicking them, when they attacked me. And they just kept coming back, just smaller, and smaller, until maybe there was nothing. they were angry. i was just defending myself. they were like angry insects. they were regarded as something special, and it was unfortunate that i had to do it, but understandable.

Maybe it's supposed to teach me.

Whole Foods

Pick up apple cider vinegar

Turn corner

See oh my God look at her ass
Female, wearing those tight stretchy black pants
Perfect
Oh my
What?
What?
Uhhhhhhhh
She's by the milk. She's picking out milk. I remember I forgot the Apple Juice, so I get it, then see her again, still picking out Milk. I keep walking, and turn around and glance to see her get up, and walk my way.

Weaving through the aisles, to get the the registers, picking up Bob's Red Mill Baking Soda on the way, she emerges, close to me, behind me.
Red hair
and her skin also appears to be red. It's not the same orange red, it's almost brown. But she is a red head, though from a distance it did appear brown, and without seeing her face.

She checks the check-out aisle next to me but then comes to the one I am in. I arrange my items so that she can put hers down without much effort, providing the spacer, as it was already there, before she got another one. She sat down her

Milk.

And I think that was all she had, or that was all I saw, before it was my turn to be checked out. I had Apple Cider Vinegar, Applejuice, and Baking Soda.

I don't remember being so close to Milk, distinctly, in awhile. Though I know people have had Milk in their items, and I have walked closely to it, it has been in the mix of many other things. Maybe I just focused on it this time. Perhaps yea, I have been in similar proximity with it, but it was how I noticed it.

Then for the first time, I make the connection that the guy at the register, I forget his name right now, that a certain girl is his girl. He got me set up, putting stuff in the bag for me, but simultaneously pulled out keys, and motioned to this girl who had just been before me, saying "I guess you're going to need these". She walks over, with her cart, and their new Son, not a year old, who was riding in the top. I have talked with this guy, about his being a musician of sorts, and someone who works in recording, and have heard him talk about his new son briefly, and girl, but have never connected it- have never seen his son, and didn't know that this girl was who he was with.

I went on my way, and stopped to watch for a moment the people at the pie-eating contest, as people were crowded around laughing, smiling, and cheering. I only stayed for a moment, and turned to see to the girl who I had seen, with the beautiful ass (oh my God), and well, she was very pretty, and could say beautiful (bootyful), no disrespect by mentioning her ass so much, but they do assk for it wearing those pantss, and this girl was now completed at the check out, smiling, walking, synchronous with my timing/mine with hers. An older Black man, white hair, stocky, also begins to walk as I stop and start from stopping to check the pie eaters out at another angle, recognizing them. He makes eye contact with me, and mentions how he would never do that, that what we eat now is what out body is tomorrow- that splurging like that is bad. I agree. We walk together much of the way to our vehicles, talking, and the red-head some steps behind. The wind blew my hat off nearly, the cord around my neck stopped it. I raised my hand up and almost hit the man, but he didn't acknowledge... He just kept talking.

And the red-head saw my huge bald spot. As soon as my hat flew off I sensed her changing course. Haha. This could be coincidence. But the way things align sometimes, like this, interests me. For some reason red-heads and Black people go together, in forms, with me, in my life. As well, the connection visually I made with her in the beginning, after getting the Apple Cider Vinegar, and unfiltered apple juice- the color of her hair, the calling of my instincts that occurred when I saw her first, and where she ended up right next to me, with milk- milk that I first stopped drinking as soon as I got with my first red-head, before realizing I was allergic, and much more in the same-associations in life, that perhaps I will only know, as fully as I do, for a human. Milk with the mother. My first red-haired girl, bringing together for me a perceived pattern, connecting to my mother. Then the guy who works in recording, and music, and his girl, who I have always noticed to be sweet, and smiling, always, when I see her, though never connected them, and the first time seeing their son, with his honey colored hair. There was a certain mixing of the hair types, of the red-haired girl, and this child. Some, "unfiltered", color.

it seem like i can never do anything right, i can never make up my mind about anything. one day i hate alcohol the next ill risk pretty everything to get drunk one last time. If my parents dont let me stay with them at lest til iget in a program im going to do one of two things im going to go back to heroin or im going to kill myself. i swear id get more time time for a drunk in public than id ever get for a pocession charge. The worst part is i dont even realy want to get sober, i cant stand the thought of having nothing to kill the anxiety make the hours go by faster. its times like thes i think suicide is probably the better option, that way at least my family will know my troubles are over.

I was about to write this in my phone, but then it locked up.

9:06 was the time, frozen on a red screen. Bastille, Bad Blood, had just come on the radio. One of my favorite newer songs I've heard recently. I like the sound.

The details as to what prompted my thought that I am in hell I won't mention.

Maybe I'm not "in hell", but its not heaven. And I will likely always be bound.
I'm not sure I want it any other way.

Without binding, there is no "I", to want.

That's okay.

It starts off simple, almost innocent.

You get in an accident and injure yourself. You go to the hospital, get evaluated by a physician, then they reach for their prescription pad and scribble you a prescription for an "odone". In this case, it started with hydrocodone. 7.5 mg of hydrocodone, 325 mg of acetaminophen. Vicodin. Add a muscle relaxer in for good measure, preferably carisoprodol. Soma. You go home, take 2 tablets of the Vicodin, 1 of the Soma. You feel fucking AMAZING. The warmth takes over your body, everything is fuzzy, happiness floods your brain. The pain is instantly gone. The pain from the accident, the pain from growing up in a fucked up household as a child. Everything is gone. Everything dissipates. You make it a nightly ritual to take your medication right before bed, it helps you sleep after all. You spend your nights in your bed, surfing the web, playing games on your phone while nodding in and out of consciousness. Your back doesn't hurt. Your depression goes away. Everything seems okay in the world. Until your prescription runs out.

You follow up with your primary care physician about your pain. Tell her what happened. Play on her emotions. Make her feel bad for you. You were only 19, you did not ask to be rear ended by a drunk driver. She is a new doctor and only 5 years older than you, so you get her on your side. She asks about your emergency room visit, what helped you, what was prescribed. You tell her that you got "something with tylenol and hydrocodone". Do not say the word "Vicodin". Do not let her know that you are in love with this drug. Pretend like you are oblivious to it. When she asks how it works, you tell her that it knocks your pain down to a 7/10 instead of a 9/10. "Is there anything else we can do for the pain?" Of course there is. She prescribes you another "odone". This time, it's oxycodone. You go home, take 2. WOW. Even better. You fall in love. This love affair lasts for 2 years. Then, I stay clean. For 4 months. I complain again, and get the beloved hydrocodone.

My mind falls in love again. My bod

I am here again, having another moan,
Why won't they just leave me alone
No matter how much I try it's never enough,
And responses received always seem so rough

How hard I try, it doesn't matter,
Amongst those enemies, there's but a nasty natter,
I always take the bait,
I know for me there's a lot of hate

Who am I trying to kid?
Thinking of a fresh start, those trolls they just want rid,
They sit and watch for me to botch,
Up Everything, they are lying there in watch,

Feeling ok I see another E-mail,
This is never going to end, why don't I just bail?
I am grieving for an online friend, feeling full of pain of so much hurt,
Yet they still send their cruel words, treating me like dirt,

Do they want me torn apart bit by bit,
Because they are doing that every time they hit,
With every single word
They may as well be stabbing me, all of the herd

Those words that hit me in the soul like a storm for of thunder,
For the millionth time I site here asking why, I sit and wonder,
Why do they want to tear me apart
Are they angry that I was finally granted my fresh start?

I wish this would all end,
And from this, I could mend,
I wish so much they'd stop watching and hunting me so,
And leave me be - away please go.

13/03/2014

Holy fucking shit my son in law drinks.

I've never seen anyone get that drunk.

I've seen a lot of people who drink. And people who drink too much.

My mom for one. But whatever, she's old. She's done. I'm done up there.

But I don't know how my daughter's husband gets up each morning. You should see it.

He drinks so much that his eyes do this thing... I don't know how to describe it.

His eyes can't focus. When he is sober and he looks at me, he looks at me, right?

When he has been drinking, he looks at me too. But he pushes himself

to get to the point where he doesn't make eye contact, like his eyes stumble inside his eye sockets for something to focus on, and they can't find anything so they start to roll up into his fucking head, and just when you think he's going to fall out, he finds something to look at for an instant, and the cycle goes on like that, and he continues to drink, until he does fall out.

Fortunately my daughter has gotten into al anon and that is helping her figure this shit out.

I'm in it too. I started it for her anyway. But I'm in it too. I don't like though. It's often sad. I do it anyway.

If you are reading this, then you must have some experience with people who drink, because I titled it "Drunks" hoping to attract your attention.

What the fuck is with the alcoholics????

Sometimes I get so mad, you know? My daughter and her husband have a gorgeous healthy baby boy, and dada gets drunk like that every god damn night.

I don't know how he does that. I will never know how he does that.

Meanwhile, my oldest son and his wife are incredible people who would love nothing more than to have a child. They have been trying for two years. It breaks my heart. My son is the sweetest man alive. Yes I said it. He is, and if you knew him you would know I'm right.

I need to go to sleep. I get up early.
I watch my grandson full time because my daughter works full time. Even when drunk dada isn't working, which is often, he doesn't watch the kid. He can't the kid. If he watched the kid, there would not be a kid left.

Got pulled over last night. They said I was going 47 in a 30. They were wrong.

He clocked me as I went around a corner, heading into the town of Spencer, Indiana. I wasn't yet even past the 40 mph marker, which is after the curve. The zone I was in when he clocked me was at least 50 mph, and very likely 55. I was going 47, and slowed to 40 or so at the site of the 40 marker. He was sitting in a 30mph zone, down the road, when he clocked me.

The cop seemed supervised. Another was with him. And he seemed young, and nervous slightly. This is the first time that I've been pulled over for speeding that I knew I wasn't speeding. Or, genuinely remembered abiding by the posted limit, having a distinct feeling. Regardless, I didnt want to argue past my questions, and asked for leniency, explaining how I haven't got a ticket in five years, and one ticket would cost me my job. He let me off with a verbal warning... But I shouldnt have been pulled over anyways, technically going under the speed limit where he claimed to have clocked me.

I'm thinking about calling their police department to tell them. Not to complain in anger... But they need to be aware.

.....

I moved into a new apartment. They used cheap paint in the tub. They didn't apply it right. Every time I shower it smells like paint... And I can put my hand on the tub floor and it will have white paint on it three days after I showered last (yes... I'm gross). I've had a heater in there to try to dry it. No good still. When I moved in the paint was 2 weeks old. It still smelled to me like paint. Really horrible job.

I want out.

In the mean time I'm going to get a membership to a gym for 10 bucks a month and just use their showers.

I'm going to buy some no VOC paint and recoat my apartment to seal in the older, higher VOC paint, and I'm going to re-do the tub, to my satisfaction. When they set these places up, whatever contractor they are using, is failing. They arent doing one coat, letting it dry, for a day, then applying the second coat. Its like they just throw some paint around. Its starting to occur to me that if you want things done right, you have to do them yourself..

My dad wanted me to try to let the apartment take care of it, when I bounced this off of him. I really don't trust them. To do it right, its a two day long deal, at least. And I doubt they will do that right. I don't want them slathering more toxic shit that won't dry. Stuff gives me a headache. Makes me slur words and forget how to say "Hungary". The only thing that seems to help other than removal for 24 hours is tons of transdermal magnesium. But that just makes me better able to detox.

My dad and I are at odds a lot. He will take my side on things, then flip flop. He's aging, so I think this may be part of this. He will forget his position.

I really wish people would do their jobs right. I'm a perfectionist. I could be a better cop, and a better painter. But I have sensitivities to chemicals in paint so I'd rather not (though I could wear a mask), and I don't want to arrest people for pot, or other drugs for that matter.

I really want to work toward a stone house. Or something. Glass. Everything inert. I don't like paint inside.

Dream

Alston and I were going to rent jet skis. We started at a hospital, where many who we knew were. My dad had been there, and was smoking. Lots of people were smoking. I was smoking, at some point. It was a hospital, but also like a place of congregation.

Alston and I, but it seemed like Richard and I (both at some point), went some place, along a shore. There was a mountain, or mountains, white or gray in color in them, around this part. David rode in a helicopter. He set up the deal, to rent the skis, where we were going. I ended up paying for it all, at roughly 500 bucks. Just under. Two money orders of 241 dollars each. I had initially had this set up some way to where I would spend half or less on the skis, as they weren't that much, and then more on drugs, but then something changed. And my mom was on my tail, chasing me, wanting to see exactly what I was spending all my money on. And she almost made me wreck because of how much she was chasing me. Richard said something about how children can do that, like babies can do that, while you are driving... By demanding your attention, putting things in your face. As we arrived at the location, I finished telling him how I wanted him and his new wife to have children. Not like "I want you to make children", but that they would do well together, and basically that they have my blessing to bring more life into the world, not that they need my permission. But I told him, when they do, to have the child and the other parent in the back seat, so that they don't wreck.

We arrived at the location of the jet skis. It was a tiny pond, but it had flooded. The entire area was flooded. Trees poked up from water. And what I thought were leaves, soon I saw were very large, bloated millipedes, or mealworms. They had varying colors, resembling the color of leaves on the ground in the fall. They were thick. Under the water, and floating. So we decided that today wouldn't be a good day to ride jet skis, as we would end up with guts and dead stuff all over us, it might be likely. And the weather, it was dark and gloomy. And perhaps a little cold, or no, just not hot. The area we were in covered by a canopy of trees.

David had apparently already scoped it and decided not to go, himself, but sold us tickets to get out of something, perhaps.

And there at the location, Richard was Alston.

Back at the hospital, I decided to give Alston half of the money- my money, as he held onto it anyways, and I guess I saw that he was desperate enough to do that, perhaps, so I didn't want to fight him for it. But he also held onto my order. I knew I would get it back, but still wondered if I could trust this guy I grew up with.

People were still smoking. My father was. In a hospital.

I did some strange movements- like clockwork movements, though not anything you can think of, but you might, by me just saying that. It was sort of a dance. Random dance, but not. I ended up pointing to things. And once I my pointing went to a red book in a room that said Co-Christ. Co something Christ. Creative. Co Creative Christ. Creative Co-Christ.

Last I seem to remember, I'm in an elevator with my dad, and Alston perhaps, going down.

We knew her, and this wasn't permanent. But she didn't like it. We were using her head, for some reason. I never quite figured it out. Her head was hung. Alston poked fun at her. They were friends. She was Amanda. We were on some ship, it seemed like. And in some competition. I was mainly just watching. Lots of water around, like we were on ships, but we were inside, still. Not on the open water. Computers were around. People I knew were checking them. Amanda's head was just patiently waiting, for something.

On the way down it seems like we hit a large metal machine-part. Turbine, most likely. A main part of the turbine. Long large beam with a cone shape at the end.

Things didn't seem to be going well, doing it the way they were supposed to be done, in the competition. I remember strife. Doing things our own way when an argument was had.

I kept on hiding from Amanda. She wanted to talk to me, and I seemed to have memory of talking to her for awhile, on a long road trip. I'd have a short conversation with her, here, and then act like I was busy, but then I'd just go lay down or something.

Last night I dreamed Snoop Dog was selling someone I knew weed. Or Snoop Lion.

So long story short. I am off opiates.

It is something that had to happen for a lot of reasons. I definitely crossed the line and did too much. The pills where causing me more pain than they relieved.

The bottom line is it will kill me if I keep doing it. I am in good health and all, but the way opiates interact with me make me do things I am not so proud of.

I guess its time to man up. I might start treating people better. I can be really passive aggressive and manipulative. Most people are too dumb to pick up on the fact that I am playing them.

I used to be a gentleman and have a lot of friends. I don't think I will get my old friends back and I don't want them. I want to make a clean start of things.

I will enroll in school and finish my degree. I should have finished years ago. I only have one more year.

This whole thing will give me a chance to return to weightlifting, sports, and exercise. I forgot how much I used to actually respect my body.

I don't really look at getting clean as painful as I know the results and well I don't have to worry about so many things I normally would. If I live more proper I won't get in any trouble.

I can date normal chicks and maybe not cheat on them like an asshole. I dunno what made me the way I am where I have no regard for other peoples needs, feelings, or wants. I probably just cared about what I needed or thought I did.

There is no reason I cannot drink and whatnot as before the opiates I never had problems. So I see the problem clear as day now. I could go on, but yeah I can feel my mind and body returning to normal.

Obviously it hasn't been easy and I ran the gauntlet of getting sick. (sick to stomach, triple flue, leg cramps, you all know the deal with kicking off) I made a relatively clean break fast and it hurt. I have hurt worse before, but as always the fear of wd's can be just as bad as them. The suffering was worth it and its the only way off, at least for me.

This is the second time I have had a spontaneous urge to become productive late at night. Cleaned my desk, set my revision books out and started thinking about study leave so decided I should check back in here as part of my routine. Planning buying a heap of weed for study leave and just sitting it out and smoking and revising the whole time.

I've also been thinking a little bit about why I do this. There are a few reasons:

First I forget the good times If I don't.

Good times sort of drift away and I forget I even had them If I dont write them down. This is a good way of remembering it all


There are a million things that happen every day, If I cant remember them all I will remember some of them

Every day we have thousands of thought processes and perceptions. Capturing them all is very hard/ Impossible. At least If I write a few of them down Its better than none.

Its good to practise punctuality.

Most of the detailed things I write in this are written while coming down and with a hangover, but at least it is more or less grammatically and punctuality correct.

I'm fucking smart.

The other day I realised I am capable of having a completely normal conversation and intellectually match a educated 40 year old the day after smoking and drinking with my delinquent friends, most/all of which are on benefits. Dont want to lose either side and writing this keeps me smart... In a way...

I should probably write about my day, if there was anything to write about. Me and Elvin are planning quite a big OP.

We were all laying down together in one of the units. Side by side. I was holding hands with the girl to my right. I had developed with her, communicating recently. She was blond, and about a head or so shorter than me. Her breasts were very, very large, and hanging, though still filled. Double Es or Fs or triple I don't know. It wasn't really important. She was wearing a gray tank top. We laid down and everyone followed. A girl laid next to her, wearing a patterned orange, and salmon, and ruddy red and brown and creme, dress seemingly. The girl I was with wrapped her legs, which were also slightly bigger/fatter, around my leg, which adds comfort. We intertwined. I held her hand, and also the girl next to her, momentarily, holding hands with both of there's with one of mine, and perhaps my other on the one in gray. Both of them were blonds. Another guy was next to the other, possibly, though attention was still for me. Maybe it was another girl. Another girl, I walked into this place with, my arm around her, realizing I was cupping her breast, which had been removed from her loose shirt/tank top, as I walked behind her, erection pressed up against her, which increased with the increase in her nipple's hardening. I was shielding her from others view, walking through, and myself as well from them. The decision to focus on the one finally next to me was from previous engagement, communication, and agreement, on issues, and perhaps something else I can't remember. The one I walked in with we were at odds not long before, and I was trying to stop her from searching the unit(s).

Just previously, women were tying to convince me that we needed to exit the apartment. There were active millipedes under the carpet. But once I didn't see it when they showed me the floor in my own, and a being raised up to human height from the hole she exposed, that was... "gross" on the surface of its skin. Maggot like. But its form was humanoid. Black eyes. Large, alien head. Large temporal areas. Bit lumpy, but ordered/structured. So then I understood why we needed to evacuate.

But there at the end, the girl and I decided we wanted to stay a little while longer, and we left the others, to go have sex in another room. I didn't make it to that point, before waking up. But I was extremely aroused.

I remember joining cheeks with another, and giving her a kiss near her ear. She was new. We were new to each other. So this may have been odd, but she accepted me, and seemed she would accept me further. She was also blond. May have been the other one I held hands with laying down, next to the blond in the gray shirt, with the largest breasts. But equally, very possible she wasn't, and was someone else, as I seemed to be open with affection.

The earlier parts of the dream are less clear. I drove a car and with my mind made it smaller. We were driving through this same building. I drove with my hands, but with belief, controlled our size, and things like driving on walls, controlling it like one might a trick bike. We were avoiding people trying to trouble us. One of those were later the one I walked into the room holding her right breast, hardening with it, on her, shielding her then, and using her as a shield.

A white dog was involved, earlier on. It wasn't sexual, but it was something I was afraid of at first, and then it showed me affection, on my hands. It was very intelligent, and I think I talked to one of the girls while it was around. It wasn't my dog, but became my friend/dog. I put my cheek against it's. I knew it understood me. Sven complicated thinga. The entire time I was talking to one of the blonds, and about the dog. I'm never much of a dog person, but there are some I tend to like. This one was somewhat shaggy. Larger breed.

I was letting a guy stay at my place, after I left, once. This is some of the earliest I remember. This is when I left and the girl that I walked in up against, I think, came with others to search the place... for what it was determined go be unhealthy for living in, later.

At the end those against each other laid down next to each other, in peace, in a dimly lit room. But then her and I got up to go join further. She took me by my hand. One finger, or two, as I followed.

I dreamt a Tiger was in a new living unit.

I fought it. It came from a dark place. It may have taken out my friend, or wounded him. I was kicking it desperately as I was on the ground, or weakened by exertion.

I think my friend had tried to go down on me, but as much as I could possibly enjoy anyone giving me oral sex, I tend to have an aversion of guys, and spiritually girls who I don't love (or love, some aversion sometimes) that way doing this, to completion. I feel like it is a waste. Like if I then had ONE chance to spread my seed, with the one that I wanted, I would not be as available. It's a desire to be ready, and potent.

So many don't seem to get that, or they chalk it up to religion. I call it untarnished survival instinct, that still courses through me- Thank God. My father did not beat the time record on an obstacle course in officer's training school, three times (twice his own) and pass his genes on for nothing. Not that I will, but there is always a chance I'll find someone that clicks. That is if we can verify that my genes aren't too damaged. But even still... I've learned some things about damage, and suffering. Just to remain open.

The Tiger came after this, perceived attempt to take me in his mouth. And when my friend had tried to, we were on all fours. I think I was fixing something, and he came down to me. And I almost changed my mind, to let him. Maybe. I don't know. Maybe I was trying to find him to simply talk. But I feel like I was trying to find him.

I believe I may have killed the Tiger.

I was in Whole Foods. I was standing near the customer service desk. They seemed to also be a pet store of sorts, for fish, at least. There were many aquariums, with big fish, and little fish. Rows. About as big as their "Whole Body" section, and in the same spot as it in the store I go to. I stood there looking at them, and the store. The people at the customer service desk, a guy that works there was talking about animal and occult-illuminati symbolism. There was a bull near the cs desk, above it, and in my dream this represented Zeus. He went on to talk about more. I stood at a distance waiting for something, listening in.

I remember running or racing, or just wandering, and there were these giant, prehistoric looking sometimes animals that would emerge from the ground, and go back in soon after. Centipede like. Segmented. Very long. 100 feet (or more, one, maybe, or less). That one was purple-pink. I saw it around water holes. And mud. I was afraid of it. And another was about 13 feet long. Right. 13 feet. The number just came to me. It resembled some kind of.. arthropod. Trilobite family, but narrower. But I may not remember it. Though I was afraid of these things, they didn't seem to come after me. I still froze sometimes, thinking they might hunt by vibration, in part. When I first remember seeing it, though I did before, I had accidentally drank water from one of many reservoirs in a new neighborhood of newly built houses, build on fabricated/molded land, and the water tasted like a stagnant pond, like it was, so I spit it out. Then I remember seeing these large animals.

I was doing laundry. Finding particulate respirators. I get a call from my apartment complex, and as I focus on a knob on tbr machine I tell the woman I can't hear her- the music is loud, and I try to turn out down but I seem to be at the washing machine or near and find turning it down difficult, unable to find the control for it. I hear her saying that I already have "four deportations", though I have no idea shat she was talking about. I have no evictions. But it seemed to be something with not paying a debt.

Walking out of my old apartment after moving things out of it, a girl who lives downstairs asked my mom if we need help moving. I am at the top of the stairs, and my parents and brother had helped me. I'm the last one out. Still more to do but this was main, and everyone was now leaving.

The red haired girl said she could change into her sweats and help. I've talked to her once. I wrote about it so may come back with her name if I can find it.

Found it. Dierdra. Her dad is Irish.
The last time I talked to her, and first time, I wrote about it in my blog. She was listening to music then, decorating for Halloween. I asked what it was. On her Joy Division station on Pandora- she checked the song and it was Interpol- Pioneer to the falls. I posted about this. http://acausal.net/blogarchive/2013/10/12/another-red/

Then I took down the original blog, which I had worked on for 3 years, exporting first to a file. Then I tried to resurrect it but it didn't work how I wanted to. Many things were lost. I'm not exactly sure about the ordering. But I made the decision to stop after her, and wrote about it.

I have a thing with red heads.

I had red hair until I was about 2.

Here she was the last I saw in the block of 8 that I lived in, and she was involved with the last of my first blog on my site.

Today I went to Target in my sisters city, of Columbus, to pick stuff up for her daughters and our moms joint birthday celebration, and chose to be checked out by the red head I saw. She was cute. And nice. Later I went back with my dad, and got a countertop oven. I saw the redhead as we were in line, still at her register, and gazed/stared, and watched her. At one time I decided to stop staring, and turned around, and found my eyes fell naturally on another girl with red hair, walking.

I just delivered pain medication for a Mary King. I had the thought to write about the "reds" when I saw her name.

The closest and only King I know of personally is Chris King. He was our high school class president. He and Christi Starr seemed to take turns in the position.

Park next to red Saturn. Get candles at Kroger to burn up paint fumes in bathroom. Thought about getting a Redbox movie. Inside get candles. At self checkout see most attractive female to me, and settle at register on the other side, in back of her. Back to back check-outs. Nice butt. Tight stretchy pants. I notice her hair is dyed a shade of red, with yellow/blond in front. She drops two 2-liters of soda in a bag on the floor. Their colors red and orange. In front of me/beside me at another checkout I check my bias, noticing a Hispanic lady with highlights that are bordering red, with her male companion.

I greet the security guard I chat with sometimes but it has been awhile since I have been there, as I leave, and stop to talk for a moment. I see girl and she sees me. Though I won't go through with it I position myself for her, and leave, saying goodbye to the guard, and keeping her beautiful ass in view.

Get to car, remember redbox. Pull up and park half way on a curb and half way in a handicap space. It will only be a second. The space one might park in the lane while getting the movie is taken, by a girl who I notice is wearing a sweater hoodie with red hearts all over it. Maybe pink too. I just saw red. She was Black. Her car was blue.

Pulling out of the parking lot, I pull out as a red accord drives past. At my next turn, I am behind another red vehicle. And at my first attempt to get into the gates of my apartment complex, what would be my next turn, there is a red car obstructing the entrance. They don't have a key card. This isn't my entrance anymore anyways, so I pull a U-ey and a right on Harcourt and head to the one closer to my new unit, where the gate is stuck open.

edit

Friday night was meant to be staying at Zanders house with just Me Ethan and Alexander but happened to meet Peter and Chris leaving Ethans house after school. They were seshing tonight for peters Birth day on Sunday. We had to wait for Alexander at Ethans before going to meet them. When his mum got to Ethans house I hid in the bathroom so she didn't see me just to avoid any confrontation after the sesh at my Dad's flat. After she left we walked to town to meet everyone. We met Peter, Chris, Kaylie, Alissa, and Annelise and we got 5gs. 4 for Alexander to sell to his school and one was for me. We met Ji-had and had a few joints. Ji-had left and we walked to Ethans. By the time we got there I was really high. We then went to Tesco to get drink, me and Chris talked to a Tesco worker he knew while Peter brought Drink. We went back and there was a long wait while we tried to figure out where to go to sesh as we had been trying to find a place all this time. Ethan, Chris and Peter went inside the house with my weed to grind it but once I got outside I started worrying about them smoking it.

I went in and out a few times to try and get them out but we didn't want me seen around weed by Ethans parents. After a while me and Alexander sat in Peters room after having an argument with the 3 of them. We chilled in there for a bit then started worrying that they might have left the room and everyone might have left. In a panic I ran outside to see everyone was still there and they hadn't even left the room yet. After a while they came out and we smoked some more weed and started drinking. Then Connor got there. I drank like 3/4ths of a beer and gave up on it, decided to drink some harder stuff later.

The above paragraph was too complicated for me too remember so I wrote what I could. There was too much in and out for me to properly remember. Also some point before this Danielle met us, I thnink at Ethans house when we first got there.

At this point Annelise said we can go to her Dad's flat since it was his birthday. Me Ethan Danielle and Alexander walked a little ahead and waited. I was shouting and making a lot of noise being extremely high when I saw a lady walking by but didnt take notice. As she walked passed she slapped my arse and said 'got ya!' we are still not sure whether it was my Biology teacher or not but Ill find out tomorrow. I don't remember the walk but I remember Alissa, Kaylie and Connor went back to Kaylies. Once we got there the oddest part of the night began.

As we got to the top floor Annelise went to pull the key out of the letter box. It simply wasn't there. Peter had hung it up on headphones but it was too far away to reach. Not quite understanding the situation I went to reach and realised that there was not a chance we were getting in the flat. The key was never going to be reachable and it was the only key to the flat. After a while I rolled a joint and started to think about where we were sleeping that night. Me and Alexander where going to get a lift home from his Mum. She would not of been happy living way out of Inverness but it was better than having no-where to sleep. All throughout this time Danielle and Annelise were hopelessly making contraptions to try and get the key with duct tape and markers and parts of a fridge we had found. After Annelise had almost ripped Peters head off for being such a fool we actually got in. The contraption they made actually worked. After everyone's dumb ideas about climbing in the window, breaking the letter box off, breaking a hole in the cupboard by the wall and calling a locksmith we actually got in. In text this means very little, but after being convinced we were not sleeping in the flat and waiting at least half an hour trying to get in we actually made it.

Once we got in the flat things got quite nice. I think I smoked A joint, not sure but I fell asleep before everyone else. I drifted in and out of sleep over the night and finally woke up around 10:30 to see Chris rolling a joint.

He had stolen tobacco from Peter and Weed from Alexander's bag before he had gave it to him. Alexander was no-where to be found, he had simply gone and Annelises dad was also there. I got really damn drunk that morning and we decided to walk to Tesco. Its quite a big walk and nearly there I staggered into a corner shop and attempted to steal something and for the first time in my life got caught. She just told me to put it back and none of us got sold.

A little struck at the idea of getting caught stealing I started thinking about the mistakes I had made, and how it was wrong to steal from a small store in the first place. We headed to Tesco and successfully stole breakfast/lunch. I also managed to redeem myself by getting a bottle of melonade out under my hoodie, something I'm actually pound of managing. Eating, we waked back to the flat and stayed there for a while, made a few trips to the store outside the road to buy small bags of crisps. I spoke to Annelises dad quite a lot which was good but surprising and finished my drink. We then walked to Ethans where my Mother picked me up.

Again I will have missed an awful lot out due to how high I was. Glad I am still doing this blog thing. Wish I had the time and patience to add all the tiny details but writing up an account of the past is pretty boring.

I'm not annoyed or angry at the moment lol, just thought I'd try a poem on the matter. So here goes, eh?!


Inside the Mind of Annoyance

Oh I am so annoyed,
Feeling hot and pained inside,
The feeling is like looking into an endless void
Oh from my head, I wish I could sometimes hide,

Oh I am but so angry,
But no one can truly realise,
Why this is so because I am not seeing clearly
To properly explain, the anger is but a disguise

Disguised are the are the guilty feelings,
Of perceptions, of the past,
and other private things,
Hurting inside, full of sorrow and praying that the anger does not last

Although often short,
I create my own punishments my own personal wake,
Full of regret of what happens each time I'm caught,
By the frustration, the annoyance, Oh learn from it for goodness sake,

Oh I am traveling on the annoyance bus
which takes me on a hideous, unpleasant journey,
Which is simply tedious
And the last place I'd want to be,

Evey 23/02/2014

My brother said it was stupid for families to uproot and move to Colorado to seek medicinal marijuana.

He was helping me move so I didn't start much argument back. I just firmly said "No its not. Its wrong that the government tries to control the use of a plant that no man has the right to restrict another from".

Our conversation began with talk of not trusting the FDA- the FDA that approved Agent Orange, that our father- a Vietnam vet, recently got tested for exposure to. And it is confirmed he was. So he might be receiving some kind of benefit (as it turns out I may also be eligible).

So by the causal chain, it may be likely that my messed up immune system is caused by damaged genes, damaged by agent orange. I'm allergic to or sensitive to so much because our government approved the use of an untested herbicide and sprayed it everywhere just to win a military engagement. I doubt it is the only factor (chainsmoking on his part didn't help). But my brother also grew tits.

When I brought up our dads exposure as a likely reason for our unusual issues, my brother seemed to choose to not acknowledge the possibility. My family's grasp on reality puts them as equal to algae, or dying leaves in a stream. On some level relatively so am I.

We further clashed on Christianity. I won't trust fully a book that was manipulated by the Catholic Church, or anyone. I just don't trust it (And trust no person). And I reject so much. And I have that right. I'm right.

I am not religious. I will not join your club.

Edit:

New thoughts on agent orange. Though I do believe the system should be held accountable (free healthcare please, and disability if it comes to that since my illness makes find suitable work harder than for many), it doesn't make a ton of sense for me to be angry. Odds are my dad would have never met my mom had he not been forced to fight in Vietnam. He would have likely married a girl he was involved with for quite a while before, and who he let go of while overseas, to be fair to her. Someone asked her to marry, and she went to my dad, crying, wanting him to say something like stay. But he was just on leave, before going, and figured "I might die", so in fairness he held his desire and gave her his blessing. From stories he has told me, as much as I know he loves my mom, he would have been with her- the other, and I wouldn't exist in the first place. My parents are pain and suffering, along with the obvious ones.

And still, I see that my asking for "them" to be responsible is sort of like asking White people to pay Black people for their ancestors being slaves. The head that I seek is a long time ago, and dead already, or at best, on my own shoulders.

I say that it is tough for me, because of my sensitivity, and while this may be true, I could adapt, and be creative, to support myself. Nobody owes me anything, and I do not deserve anything. Life has always taken advantage of things weaker. The weak need to be. Rape, is even justified, though, I like my exploitations to be a little more subtle.

Nobody owes me anyt

I was dreading moving, because of my sensitivity to environment. I am sensitive to new paint smells, and chemicals used to clean. I felt I was moving into a worse situation than I am in. Now, I am thinking that this is untrue, and I am moving into a better place. I may still struggle with the new-ness of the unit I am moving to, just on the other side of my complex, but I think I made the right choice to stay here. I just met some of my neighbors- or one, named Devon/Devin. He was playing guitar, outside the door. I had just lit candles, to burn up the excess VOCs in the air in my apartment. I had just realized I stepped in dog poop, and tracked it on the "clean" carpet, and floor, but this didn't bother me so much- not like it used to. I can handle organic and completely natural in process "dirty" (besides mold, and I guess, lots of bacteria), but not chemical dirty. I actually thought the poop smelled good, relatively. Not that I want it on me, or in my place. It was on my shoes, so I put them in the washer there. I was getting ready to walk outside to come back to my old unit, when I heard them outside, and making music.

Outside, I met Devin/Devon, and Ashley, who actually lives near where my first apartment was/is, in this complex. She is a cute, short haired, short, platinum blond, and she was singing, while Devon was playing guitar. They were both really welcoming, and inviting me to come party with them. I wouldn't mind being around. Apparently another of our neighbors smokes things like Blue Dream, and Green Crack- strains of high grade marijuana, regularly. So now, I may have a hook-up again finally. Just throw her some money, and let her pick it up for me when she does for her self, possibly. They offered me a beer, but I declined, as I can't handle beer due to allergy/sensitivity. In this situation, I wish I could. Lubricating.

I met one of their roommates, Devon's roommates. He lives with a guy, and the girl just stays with them. I met her when I was debating on staying in that apartment, when I was testing the environment out to make sure it wasn't going to give me any lasting reactions-- The management allowed me to stay in there for an hour or so earlier in the week to see. She, this girl, I saw her calling someone, to be let in, as I was pacing around in the apartment. My window faces out that way. I saw her, and took the opportunity to come close to a viable, uh, female, and I went to open the door for her. She thanked me, and asked me if I had moved in, and I said possibly. She said "welcome". She may have had some weight in me moving, honestly. I was wearing a different hat that day. A beanie. Today, much earlier, I saw her a couple of times. I was in my car, talking on the phone, outside, and driving around in circles. I had a different hat on. When I saw her she didn't recognize me from the other day, I could tell. Devon tonight told me that she was freaked out, saying that there is a guy wearing an Indiana Jones hat driving around in circles, and parking out front. He laughed and said that he will have to let her know that I am living there- that it will make a good laugh, or story.

This hall seems to be occupied by social people. Young people. Younger than me, but within the same range. I'm not extremely social, but that is also because I am not naturally exposed. I may decide I want to hang out. If we click. I'm not expecting anything, but it's still cool to have such neighbors. Noisemakers such as this I prefer. Musicians, singers.

So I was dreading this. What was bad, so I thought, might be good for me, after all.



Devon is from a couple hours North, I think. He wants to get a job at a place called Fastenal. He quit smoking marijuana so when they drug test him, he can pass, and get on. I tried to offer him a job, or a way to one, but he has no car.
Ashley is from Iowa, is a "country girl"- she identified, and she studied Arabic in college, and something else. Foreign relations, perhaps. She sets girls up to go overseas, into study abroad programs, but she doesn't feel fulfilled. She is trying to get a job in Chicago. I asked her when she was moving, and she said whenever she can get a job. She was cute, from what I saw, so I kind of hope not that soon, maybe. I don't know. Haha.



I do believe my illness is at least in part psychosomatic. I know I have an environmental sickness, but around them, I seemed fine. Something felt warmer in the apartment, tonight. It felt more like "home". I've been missing a social element for a long time.