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So am feeling pretty proud of myself.... I just finished reading tina fey's memoirs "Bossypants" after I finished reading Chelsea Handler's book "My Horizontal Life" - yep I read two whole books in the last month!!! I know pretty f-ing impressive right? Okay, I know in my heart of hearts that this is not an achievement which is on par with winning a gold medal at the Sochi Olympics however it is a personal achievement for me as I feel I am becoming a person again slowly but surely I am at times regaining my identity or at other times I am finding my identity. (to put this in a bit more context I used to be an avid reader then I got all messed up in the head from drugs and alcohol and stopped reading, I then eventually got pregnant and while I was no longer doing drugs/alcohol my hormones were making me crazy and retarded and reading a book that wasn't about pregnancy was a bit out of my ability level in that period of time, next I had a baby (this typically results from pregnancy) and because of said baby I wasn't reading a lot..... so the long in short of it is I am finally reading books again!!!!) I have also taken to reading these books aloud to my son while he plays (he is 10 months now and has no clue that what I am reading him is not in fact an excerpt from "Goodnight Moon").
Basically my brain is working again! Finally!
In other news I also really stepped outside the box by working as a volunteer naturalist and leading 5th grade snow shoe hikes. Say what? I know right? Completely out of my comfort zone. And.... it went pretty well and I am pretty proud of myself!
Also in the last month I got to have 1 night out which was pretty cool and I also travelled with my mom and the baby to Washington state to sight see and see family (if you are ever in seattle the underground tour is a must!).
Finally, it has become clear that the phd programs have indeed passed me over for other applicants with far more interesting resumes (presumably as mine was somewhat unimpressive). Its a good thing that Adams State has a couple rad masters programs cuz otherwise I would be in deep S-H-I-T trying to figure out where I fit in in this world! At Adams I am torn between their school counseling masters program and their exercise science masters....... tough choices tough choices we shall see
Basically my brain is working again! Finally!
In other news I also really stepped outside the box by working as a volunteer naturalist and leading 5th grade snow shoe hikes. Say what? I know right? Completely out of my comfort zone. And.... it went pretty well and I am pretty proud of myself!
Also in the last month I got to have 1 night out which was pretty cool and I also travelled with my mom and the baby to Washington state to sight see and see family (if you are ever in seattle the underground tour is a must!).
Finally, it has become clear that the phd programs have indeed passed me over for other applicants with far more interesting resumes (presumably as mine was somewhat unimpressive). Its a good thing that Adams State has a couple rad masters programs cuz otherwise I would be in deep S-H-I-T trying to figure out where I fit in in this world! At Adams I am torn between their school counseling masters program and their exercise science masters....... tough choices tough choices we shall see
I'm sorry.
I just fell in love with you.
I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop it..
and neither could you.
I'd take it all back if I could..all of it..
and I told you so a million times.
I tried to leave so many times because
I knew how it hurt you..waiting.
and how I'd hurt you because I was so scared.
but you wouldn't let me go..you promised never to let me go.
you always knew better.
I complicated everything out of fear..
just like you always said.
I never wanted to hurt anyone..
much less the only good in the world.
it was real. my love. so real..
I wish you'd have asked me what was true instead of believing
someone who beat me weeks before and you blamed me for it.
if I were your friends I'd probably hate me too..
but they don't know the truth.
I'm sorry, my love. so sorry.
i'll never stop missing you..
I wish you'd known the truth.
I wish I'd fought harder.
I miss you so and always will.
I just fell in love with you.
I couldn't help it. I couldn't stop it..
and neither could you.
I'd take it all back if I could..all of it..
and I told you so a million times.
I tried to leave so many times because
I knew how it hurt you..waiting.
and how I'd hurt you because I was so scared.
but you wouldn't let me go..you promised never to let me go.
you always knew better.
I complicated everything out of fear..
just like you always said.
I never wanted to hurt anyone..
much less the only good in the world.
it was real. my love. so real..
I wish you'd have asked me what was true instead of believing
someone who beat me weeks before and you blamed me for it.
if I were your friends I'd probably hate me too..
but they don't know the truth.
I'm sorry, my love. so sorry.
i'll never stop missing you..
I wish you'd known the truth.
I wish I'd fought harder.
I miss you so and always will.
I have never read of him as directly associated with Mars, and some people say that Jesus is actually Zeus- the name is Zeus- a form of. That it is an adapted story. This may be the case.
But Jesus said he does not come to bring peace, but a sword. Mars known as a "God of War".
Names beginning with Mar are commonly theorized to have roots with Mars.
Jesus's mother was Mary. He is closest, among his followers, to Mary Magdalene. He loves her more than the others, it's been said.
There are three Marys at the tomb. All four gospels mention three women at the tomb, but only Mark mentions the three in this tradition as bearing the name Mary. The three Marys mentioned at the tomb in Mark were
Mary Magdalene
Mary Mother of James
Mary Salome
From what I read, more, I am confused. There seem to be other Marys mentioned in the "three Marys" entry, in wikipedia. There is Mary Jacobe. But Jacob and James are the same name, basically- the same rooting. It also says "confusion exists between Maria Salome, Maria Jacobe, Maria Cleophas, and even Maria Betania".
Three Marys were present at the crucifixion, and these were
Mary (mother of Jesus)
Mary Magdalene
Mary, the wife of Cleopas
Also there were Mary mother of Jesus's two sisters, also both named Mary, who were mentioned in the Bible, and the three of them are also called "The Three Marys", as the others are referred as well. In one tradition, they are the ones who visited the tomb of Jesus.
He's been depicteded to have worn a red robe, as they clothed him "like a king" for his crucifixion.. Mary Magadalene's hair has often been depicted as red, as was the hair of the one who turned him in, Judas.
My ex has the name Marilyn Marie Duellman. She introduced me to The Mars Volta, and Arcade Fire. These were the first groups we listened to, by her, that I remember, and she would blast the former so loudly, that I struggled to enjoy it. I met her by way of Mark Kulkin, a Jew, who I met on Bluelight. Her older brother is named Mark (younger, Paul). She gave me a Marx Brother's shirt, that was her father's. Her hair color is red. She was the first girl with that color of hair that I dated.
After her, I saw that my exes who I was serious with had names that when aligned could spell MASK. The first movie we saw together had a guy that wore a mask in it (Vanilla Sky), the first night we met, on the birthday of the the next girl- also who had red hair, that I would meet and fall in love with, who was born on 5/30/1984, the day of an annular (ring) solar eclipse. The first sighting occurred in a city called Sunshine, per a video news recording I found of the event, which can be found in the link below:
http://youtu.be/niTQrfLdVFY
Her name is Donna. She named herself "Lovely Sunshine" on her facebook profile.
Swag.
I try to make it Crystal. Kristal. I try.
I met Donna 888 days after Marilyn and I ended.
I met Donna 161 weeks after Marilyn gave me a watch, for Christmas.
I was born after 161 days passed in the year. 203 days remained in the year.
After Donna, 203 weeks remained until 12/21/2012, when I was paid 1221.52 dollars- the highest amount that I have yet been paid. Donna's last name is Price. Yea, I thought I was Jesus Christ.
Gonna mark us right.
The first girl with red hair that I crushed on was named Sarah Million. Her family moved to my town when we were in the 8th grade. Her dad was a minister at a church that was the closest church to me. We had choir together. I almost began to date her as a senior in high school, around Christmas, but something got confused and I began dating her friend Christi.
The first girl I got naked was Christina Alexander, at age 6 or so- my next door neighbor. She moved away at some point and later came back, moving one more house down- an all red brick "fortress", in contrast with the design of just about every other house in the neighborhood, and she now went by her middle name, Marie.
My first girlfriend was Kristin Miller. She asked me out in the 4th grade, when we were both involved in a project called Marsville, in Young Astronauts, that we eventually collaborated with other schools, making the larger Marsville colony. I was drafted to finish the design of the cock-pit for the space-craft, though I wasn't an original member. That was the first time I held hands with a girl, like we did, and it happened inside the habitat that had been built. Everything was red. Then her best friend, Cassie Coldren, asked me out, and I said yes to her, as well. They confronted me while I was in the middle of a game where I dodged a red ball, telling me I couldn't have both of them, so I chose neither of them.
I have a friend named Mario Lewis. He's the only one that became an architect. And only "Mar" friend. Lewis means Fame+War. He and I did war, quite a bit, and I always won, in just about everything that I remember. But he is really good at building stuff (and he'd often burn it after). [Marilyn was also studying architecture, so my two close mates male and female with Mars in their names studied or went on to be architects/designers. They both now live in New York/Brooklyn]
The next girls I was with were Jessica and Jessica. I was in the 7th grade at this point. Jessica 1 (Irrgang) was Mario's crush. I simply didn't care. All is fair in love and war, right? She liked me. She was hot. He had loved her for two years at that point. She laid eyes on me, and liked me. She was 8th grade. But we only went out for a week or two, before my shyness made her break up with me- I never talked. ...I'm not good or wasn't good at talking with others around us constantly, and people always seemed to listen/want to be involved in what words came out of my mouth. It was hard to focus. I was shy. And at that age you don't get a lot of privacy.
Jessica 2 (Lawson) was next. We went out for a couple weeks or three. She asked me out, as well, and was also in the 8th grade- also older. She spoke about her experience with speed, saying she would never take it again, and that was my first time hearing of someone's drug experience. She also broke up with me after I just didn't see it going anywhere, and didn't try to get closer/didn't see much of a way, at that age.
Both Jessicas and Kristin and Cassie before them all had blond hair and blue eyes, just as I remember.
Then also when I was in the 7th grade, there was Maria, and she was then the longest I was tied to a girl, at that point. She was a year older as well, and approached me first, as well. I can't say how long we were "boyfriend/girlfriend", but I avoided her, for months it seemed. I just couldn't break up with her, because it was awkward. She was extremely shy- so much so it was awkward. I was shy, too, but tried to talk to her, at first. I think her eyes were blue, maybe, but her hair was brown. Eventually I got her to break up with me, by ignoring her long enough.
My first car was a rebuild, by Jessica 1's father. While it was being finished, I had her mother as a sub for English, as my teacher was having a baby.
I lost my virginity from a girl I met at Chase Martin's house, but I forget her name. She was from West Virginia. My freshman year of college. Chase's father held a high position at a Ford Dealership in Evansville, Indiana, and Chase's roommate was Alex Evans, who was the second guy I friended at school, after Christopher Michael White.
The next clear connection I had with the first girl, Kristin Miller, besides infrequent intermingling as we went to the same schools through high school and shared some friends, was through my friend(s) Chase Creech and Erica Templeton having a child together, who was born on my birthday, June 11th, which I found was also Kristin's birthday. Chase had given me a harmonica before he got with Erica, after we went to a strip club together.
But Jesus said he does not come to bring peace, but a sword. Mars known as a "God of War".
Names beginning with Mar are commonly theorized to have roots with Mars.
Jesus's mother was Mary. He is closest, among his followers, to Mary Magdalene. He loves her more than the others, it's been said.
There are three Marys at the tomb. All four gospels mention three women at the tomb, but only Mark mentions the three in this tradition as bearing the name Mary. The three Marys mentioned at the tomb in Mark were
Mary Magdalene
Mary Mother of James
Mary Salome
From what I read, more, I am confused. There seem to be other Marys mentioned in the "three Marys" entry, in wikipedia. There is Mary Jacobe. But Jacob and James are the same name, basically- the same rooting. It also says "confusion exists between Maria Salome, Maria Jacobe, Maria Cleophas, and even Maria Betania".
Three Marys were present at the crucifixion, and these were
Mary (mother of Jesus)
Mary Magdalene
Mary, the wife of Cleopas
Also there were Mary mother of Jesus's two sisters, also both named Mary, who were mentioned in the Bible, and the three of them are also called "The Three Marys", as the others are referred as well. In one tradition, they are the ones who visited the tomb of Jesus.
He's been depicteded to have worn a red robe, as they clothed him "like a king" for his crucifixion.. Mary Magadalene's hair has often been depicted as red, as was the hair of the one who turned him in, Judas.
My ex has the name Marilyn Marie Duellman. She introduced me to The Mars Volta, and Arcade Fire. These were the first groups we listened to, by her, that I remember, and she would blast the former so loudly, that I struggled to enjoy it. I met her by way of Mark Kulkin, a Jew, who I met on Bluelight. Her older brother is named Mark (younger, Paul). She gave me a Marx Brother's shirt, that was her father's. Her hair color is red. She was the first girl with that color of hair that I dated.
After her, I saw that my exes who I was serious with had names that when aligned could spell MASK. The first movie we saw together had a guy that wore a mask in it (Vanilla Sky), the first night we met, on the birthday of the the next girl- also who had red hair, that I would meet and fall in love with, who was born on 5/30/1984, the day of an annular (ring) solar eclipse. The first sighting occurred in a city called Sunshine, per a video news recording I found of the event, which can be found in the link below:
http://youtu.be/niTQrfLdVFY
Her name is Donna. She named herself "Lovely Sunshine" on her facebook profile.
Swag.
I try to make it Crystal. Kristal. I try.
I met Donna 888 days after Marilyn and I ended.
I met Donna 161 weeks after Marilyn gave me a watch, for Christmas.
I was born after 161 days passed in the year. 203 days remained in the year.
After Donna, 203 weeks remained until 12/21/2012, when I was paid 1221.52 dollars- the highest amount that I have yet been paid. Donna's last name is Price. Yea, I thought I was Jesus Christ.
Gonna mark us right.
The first girl with red hair that I crushed on was named Sarah Million. Her family moved to my town when we were in the 8th grade. Her dad was a minister at a church that was the closest church to me. We had choir together. I almost began to date her as a senior in high school, around Christmas, but something got confused and I began dating her friend Christi.
The first girl I got naked was Christina Alexander, at age 6 or so- my next door neighbor. She moved away at some point and later came back, moving one more house down- an all red brick "fortress", in contrast with the design of just about every other house in the neighborhood, and she now went by her middle name, Marie.
My first girlfriend was Kristin Miller. She asked me out in the 4th grade, when we were both involved in a project called Marsville, in Young Astronauts, that we eventually collaborated with other schools, making the larger Marsville colony. I was drafted to finish the design of the cock-pit for the space-craft, though I wasn't an original member. That was the first time I held hands with a girl, like we did, and it happened inside the habitat that had been built. Everything was red. Then her best friend, Cassie Coldren, asked me out, and I said yes to her, as well. They confronted me while I was in the middle of a game where I dodged a red ball, telling me I couldn't have both of them, so I chose neither of them.
I have a friend named Mario Lewis. He's the only one that became an architect. And only "Mar" friend. Lewis means Fame+War. He and I did war, quite a bit, and I always won, in just about everything that I remember. But he is really good at building stuff (and he'd often burn it after). [Marilyn was also studying architecture, so my two close mates male and female with Mars in their names studied or went on to be architects/designers. They both now live in New York/Brooklyn]
The next girls I was with were Jessica and Jessica. I was in the 7th grade at this point. Jessica 1 (Irrgang) was Mario's crush. I simply didn't care. All is fair in love and war, right? She liked me. She was hot. He had loved her for two years at that point. She laid eyes on me, and liked me. She was 8th grade. But we only went out for a week or two, before my shyness made her break up with me- I never talked. ...I'm not good or wasn't good at talking with others around us constantly, and people always seemed to listen/want to be involved in what words came out of my mouth. It was hard to focus. I was shy. And at that age you don't get a lot of privacy.
Jessica 2 (Lawson) was next. We went out for a couple weeks or three. She asked me out, as well, and was also in the 8th grade- also older. She spoke about her experience with speed, saying she would never take it again, and that was my first time hearing of someone's drug experience. She also broke up with me after I just didn't see it going anywhere, and didn't try to get closer/didn't see much of a way, at that age.
Both Jessicas and Kristin and Cassie before them all had blond hair and blue eyes, just as I remember.
Then also when I was in the 7th grade, there was Maria, and she was then the longest I was tied to a girl, at that point. She was a year older as well, and approached me first, as well. I can't say how long we were "boyfriend/girlfriend", but I avoided her, for months it seemed. I just couldn't break up with her, because it was awkward. She was extremely shy- so much so it was awkward. I was shy, too, but tried to talk to her, at first. I think her eyes were blue, maybe, but her hair was brown. Eventually I got her to break up with me, by ignoring her long enough.
My first car was a rebuild, by Jessica 1's father. While it was being finished, I had her mother as a sub for English, as my teacher was having a baby.
I lost my virginity from a girl I met at Chase Martin's house, but I forget her name. She was from West Virginia. My freshman year of college. Chase's father held a high position at a Ford Dealership in Evansville, Indiana, and Chase's roommate was Alex Evans, who was the second guy I friended at school, after Christopher Michael White.
The next clear connection I had with the first girl, Kristin Miller, besides infrequent intermingling as we went to the same schools through high school and shared some friends, was through my friend(s) Chase Creech and Erica Templeton having a child together, who was born on my birthday, June 11th, which I found was also Kristin's birthday. Chase had given me a harmonica before he got with Erica, after we went to a strip club together.
In an act of pure humanitarianism, "Maine Gov. Paul LePage (R) appears set to oppose a bill increasing access to a lifesaving anti-overdose medication because of concerns rejected by public health experts that it could encourage more drug abuse."I can only assume that this man is a saint, actually he must be more like the messiah, because he clearly has the authority to judge people's personal behavior, and sentence them to death. I was raised in a very religious household and went to church every Sunday. But I'm having a hard time remembering when and where the Savior says that you deserve death if you take drugs. Does he include alcohol among those drugs? I guess religion is really changing these days. Which brings me to another point, you never hear about churches taking this position. Only hard-headed, self-entitled, narcissistic assholes have the gumption to make statements like this. As a self-appointed messiah, I assume he must be perfect, or else what right would he have to be the judge, jury and executioner of millions of people, especially in his own home state where heroin overdose is on the rise. I'd like to examine his skeleton closet before I let him put me on trial.
The article goes on to state...
"Fatal heroin overdoses in Maine quadrupled from 2011 to 2012. Naloxone is a drug that can reverse overdoses from heroin and other opioids like morphine. State Rep. Sara Gideon (D) is sponsoring legislation that would place the drug, which is sold under the trade name Narcan, in the hands of police, firefighters, at-risk users and their families.
Gideon said that ahead of a scheduled Wednesday hearing, the governor's chief health policy adviser, Holly Lusk, told her LePage would oppose the bill in its entirety.
"His main objection is his belief -- and I have to emphasize 'his belief' because there is no evidence that supports this at all -- his belief that increasing the availability of Narcan or naloxone will lead the drug user or drug abuser to have this feeling of invincibility," Gideon said."
Invincibility? Why didn't I think of that. Now I can go slam way too much heroin, suffer an incredibly painful, scarey, life-threatening overdose, and still come out okay? Bring it on! Fuck, I don't care if I have to have to have a needle jammed in my heart, recover in a hospital for days and almost die! Whatever. I'll be okay. Sky's the limit baby, I'm invincible! This guys a genius. Now were is that 4 gram ball of black tar? I'm all alone and can't think of anything better to do. Oh right, I'm all alone. Who would even be there to administer the drug for me? Shit. I guess I'm not invincible after all.
The Needle Exchange program near my house offers Over Dose prevention training that comes with two prescriptions for Naloxone. Since I live with another user, it's an incredibly useful thing to keep around, in case of those extreme emergencies. But heroin does not cloud the brain enough for me to think that this is in anyway fool-proof. No matter what society thinks about heroin addicts, we're not all idiots. My boyfriend and I are both active, productive member of society who support our habit with regular jobs (well I'm a freelance writer, so not regular, but I have a steady income). I'm sure the governor wouldn't have any idea if they met either of us. And I'm sure none of my friends or family think I deserve to die.
It reminds me of a state senator down in the south (or it could have been a House member) who started the "Smoke Pot, Lose a Limb" campaign. He tried to get a bill passed that would sentence pot smokers to an amputation, if convicted. My jaw hit the floor when I read that. I wish I could find the article I read. If I can find it, I'll post it. Luckily the bill was not met with the support he desired.
For the rest of the article on Gov. Lepage, click here...
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2014/02/11/paul-lepage-drug-overdose_n_4770196.html
When I think, my thoughts go to reminiscing pretty quickly. I have to admit, even though I feel like I'm on the cusp of a new life, I just think back all the time, to being a kid, man. That was the shit. Fuck this other shit, fucking people over, trying to gain money, land, wealth, power - I don't much care for it.
But, then again, I want to 'make' something of myself. I mean, I suppose I do.
Then I think ahead, to what I could do and what I could have, and it doesn't seem to be very meaningful. I remember when I was 10 or so very vividly, that I thought I would just be the shit when I got, say, 20 or 30 years down the road.
I guess I could still be that way to other people, but, now, I don't know, it just seems like the same shit is going to keep happening whatever the case, and then my parents will die and I'll just be left with the rest of the family that is still going on and kicking.
And simultaneously, I'm just thinking, and writing, then going back to thinking, reminiscing while trying to predict and realizing I really don't know nor care what's up, sometimes. But, having that thought, and thinking about it, you could say that I care so much that I don't want to admit it. I do just want to wake up, but into another dream, again? That would suck, I want to get it over with now, not suicide, obviously, but just the what's up part about all of this.
Lol, this is my first blog post. I smoke pot now and then but that's about it. I'm just talking about life in general. Peace out.
But, then again, I want to 'make' something of myself. I mean, I suppose I do.
Then I think ahead, to what I could do and what I could have, and it doesn't seem to be very meaningful. I remember when I was 10 or so very vividly, that I thought I would just be the shit when I got, say, 20 or 30 years down the road.
I guess I could still be that way to other people, but, now, I don't know, it just seems like the same shit is going to keep happening whatever the case, and then my parents will die and I'll just be left with the rest of the family that is still going on and kicking.
And simultaneously, I'm just thinking, and writing, then going back to thinking, reminiscing while trying to predict and realizing I really don't know nor care what's up, sometimes. But, having that thought, and thinking about it, you could say that I care so much that I don't want to admit it. I do just want to wake up, but into another dream, again? That would suck, I want to get it over with now, not suicide, obviously, but just the what's up part about all of this.
Lol, this is my first blog post. I smoke pot now and then but that's about it. I'm just talking about life in general. Peace out.
Been a while since I did this. I have been away from technology for a few days now, I've missed it.
Nothing much happened until Friday, walked to ethans but on the way stopped to find out there was £60 sitting in his account and picked up a gram from his. We sold some stuff to CEX and got some more money. At this point went and met Peter, Chris, Annelise and Steven. We smoked and fumbled around in town, got a really nice subway later in the night after meeting a few dealers and a few people, Alissa and Kaliey and Connar met us.
The next few days get a little hazy as me writing this is the first time I have been sober since. We went to Annelise's Dads and I stayed there for a while with Ethan, Peter Annelise Alissa and Chris. We were smoking more expensive stuff but as soon as me and Ethan left for mine (A little bit disappointed we didn't stay but we were asked why we didn't the next day.) I became ecstatic, jumping around and dancing all the way back to my Dad's flat. We made a tonne of food and ordered a XL pizza at 1 in the morning. I dozed off on the couch a bit and we went to bed at like half 4.
Next day... not sure, lots of walking, I think to Ethans, then to KFC, then to Ethans then to town to meet some people... Cant remember who specifically, but that day we went back to my flat via bus, about 14 of us, me drunk, and very high, and Alexander was waiting for us... With his mother... He had phoned my mother, and Ethans... I hate that kid sometimes, he really doesnt belong out on the street; as much as I like him.
I played the next bit pretty well. Mother arrived, told her me and Ethan had come back to pick up Alexander and we wouldn't THINK of staying at the flat over night and we were only here for him, in the same way we weren't at the flat last night, we were at Ethans (Hohoho). The only reason this worked is my mother doesn't know where my dads flat is. Everyone else was just sitting in a park round from the flats. When Alexanders mother and mine left I went back to find people had let themselves into the flat... A little annoyed I ran in, they were just sitting on the couch no harm done.
So 14 of us sitting in a flat, narrowly still allowed there as no-one thought we were staying there. There was a general worry either my Mother, Father or Alexander's Mum would come and see us there... It was a good night. They (We...) convinced Alexander to buy drink, when they were out Me Ethan, Kaylie, Annelise and Alissa sat in the flat chilling, it was really fun throwing a ball around and that. When they got back there was a little bit of time where it was just a standard party, but kinda shit.
Then everyone apart from Me, Kaylie, Annelise, Alissa and Chris were sitting in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka, unopened. This was when I started to enjoy myself, instead of being a little awkward this went really well, everyone was having a good time. Me and Chris were mixing bogging drinks for them, I was pretty pissed after 5/6 shots in total being a bit of a light weight and started some light teasing, which is only me when I'm drunk, most of the time I am pretty passive. We found out lime juice eliminates the taste of vodka after pouring some into a bottle of lime, me and Chris finished that. Kaylie went to bed with Connar and me Chris and Alissa went to my room. Alissa and Chris had been fooling around a bit for a while but I felt pretty bulletproof so was sort of trying with Alissa but in a nice way. Being a somewhat considerate person I noted she was under a lot of pressure from Chris so wasn't invading in any way, just displaying some vague interest. I got a nice sleep which I needed. Nothing happened but I had my hand on Alissa's thigh for a while, not that she minded at all but I don't think it was exactly appropriate given the situation.
The morning after was nice. I tidied up a bit everyone was in a more or less good more, I was pretty content.
Now this day is really blurry. I remember phoning my mum and her knowing I was in the flat, she was threatening with social work and police. not that I paid much attention. Then walking to town, after acquiring some food from tesco. Me, Ethan, Alexander and Annelise walked to her flat to to get some useless stuff, I think we more went as the rest of them were going through the usual process of stealing ps4 and xBox one games and selling them, It was an easy £300 pound. I had eathen a big stem earlier that day, so for some really weird reason I was high as hell, but really scared about life for some reason, Alexander had been drinking all day so he was pissed. Idiot... I remember feeling pretty shitty and getting a hug off Annelise, put me in a better headspace. We walked back just in time to meet my Mum, the chore didnt go so we had no money apart from Alexander.
Me being a manipulative little shit convinced my steaming mad mother that its not important I was playing my parents against eachother and that all these people should come back to the house tonight to soberly watch some movies... We then had 20 minutes before she wanted to leave to somehow acquire smoke in the middle of town with my mother next to me... We spoke to some people on the street they knew, eventually we got a hook up half an hour away. Ethan and Alex went back to my mothers with her, who would come to pick us up later. Annelise had a train to get back to Nairn, and Kaylie was still in work. Me and Chris and Annelise found the 2 of them.
There is now an hour or two of me and Chris meeting and loosing people, while Connar and Peter go pick up the smoke. After loosing and finding and leaving everyone 4/5 diffrent times we eventually got a lift down to Croachy. Kaylie and Alissa had to work the next morning so they got a lift back into town at around 11. We smoked a lot of weed in the boiler house before they left and I think after, watched a lot of movies, and I crashed in my bed. Woke up and sorted some stuff out, missed out the first joint intentionally then took some of the second.
Then things got VERY bad. My dad arrived, the door wasn't bolted (It's got bolts on the door just for him...) and he smashed the house up a bit, took some stuff and shouted at me for "trashing" the flat. I knew it wasn't that bad at all. To give comparison he described the place with "curtains ripped off the rails" when one person had held onto one and it had fallen off... Would of taken a minute or so to put back on... My mother had phoned the police who arrived, said very little to us about anything, were actually sort of friendly. They left, then a few hours later everyone was driven back in. I didn't need to come so didn't. Cleaned up a little and unpacked the Xbox that had arrived today. Then had a nice big roast and wrote this.
This is pretty messy, I have probably got lots of words mixed up, spelt peoples names in different ways every time and missed out fundamentalist over the last few days, but alas at least I bothered to write all this up wasn't easy...
Nothing much happened until Friday, walked to ethans but on the way stopped to find out there was £60 sitting in his account and picked up a gram from his. We sold some stuff to CEX and got some more money. At this point went and met Peter, Chris, Annelise and Steven. We smoked and fumbled around in town, got a really nice subway later in the night after meeting a few dealers and a few people, Alissa and Kaliey and Connar met us.
The next few days get a little hazy as me writing this is the first time I have been sober since. We went to Annelise's Dads and I stayed there for a while with Ethan, Peter Annelise Alissa and Chris. We were smoking more expensive stuff but as soon as me and Ethan left for mine (A little bit disappointed we didn't stay but we were asked why we didn't the next day.) I became ecstatic, jumping around and dancing all the way back to my Dad's flat. We made a tonne of food and ordered a XL pizza at 1 in the morning. I dozed off on the couch a bit and we went to bed at like half 4.
Next day... not sure, lots of walking, I think to Ethans, then to KFC, then to Ethans then to town to meet some people... Cant remember who specifically, but that day we went back to my flat via bus, about 14 of us, me drunk, and very high, and Alexander was waiting for us... With his mother... He had phoned my mother, and Ethans... I hate that kid sometimes, he really doesnt belong out on the street; as much as I like him.
I played the next bit pretty well. Mother arrived, told her me and Ethan had come back to pick up Alexander and we wouldn't THINK of staying at the flat over night and we were only here for him
, in the same way we weren't at the flat last night, we were at Ethans (Hohoho). The only reason this worked is my mother doesn't know where my dads flat is. Everyone else was just sitting in a park round from the flats. When Alexanders mother and mine left I went back to find people had let themselves into the flat... A little annoyed I ran in, they were just sitting on the couch no harm done. So 14 of us sitting in a flat, narrowly still allowed there as no-one thought we were staying there. There was a general worry either my Mother, Father or Alexander's Mum would come and see us there... It was a good night. They (We...) convinced Alexander to buy drink, when they were out Me Ethan, Kaylie, Annelise and Alissa sat in the flat chilling, it was really fun throwing a ball around and that. When they got back there was a little bit of time where it was just a standard party, but kinda shit.
Then everyone apart from Me, Kaylie, Annelise, Alissa and Chris were sitting in the kitchen with a bottle of vodka, unopened. This was when I started to enjoy myself, instead of being a little awkward this went really well, everyone was having a good time. Me and Chris were mixing bogging drinks for them, I was pretty pissed after 5/6 shots in total being a bit of a light weight and started some light teasing, which is only me when I'm drunk, most of the time I am pretty passive. We found out lime juice eliminates the taste of vodka after pouring some into a bottle of lime, me and Chris finished that. Kaylie went to bed with Connar and me Chris and Alissa went to my room. Alissa and Chris had been fooling around a bit for a while but I felt pretty bulletproof so was sort of trying with Alissa but in a nice way. Being a somewhat considerate person I noted she was under a lot of pressure from Chris so wasn't invading in any way, just displaying some vague interest. I got a nice sleep which I needed. Nothing happened but I had my hand on Alissa's thigh for a while, not that she minded at all but I don't think it was exactly appropriate given the situation.
The morning after was nice. I tidied up a bit everyone was in a more or less good more, I was pretty content.
Now this day is really blurry. I remember phoning my mum and her knowing I was in the flat, she was threatening with social work and police. not that I paid much attention. Then walking to town, after acquiring some food from tesco. Me, Ethan, Alexander and Annelise walked to her flat to to get some useless stuff, I think we more went as the rest of them were going through the usual process of stealing ps4 and xBox one games and selling them, It was an easy £300 pound. I had eathen a big stem earlier that day, so for some really weird reason I was high as hell, but really scared about life for some reason, Alexander had been drinking all day so he was pissed. Idiot... I remember feeling pretty shitty and getting a hug off Annelise, put me in a better headspace. We walked back just in time to meet my Mum, the chore didnt go so we had no money apart from Alexander.
Me being a manipulative little shit convinced my steaming mad mother that its not important I was playing my parents against eachother and that all these people should come back to the house tonight to soberly watch some movies... We then had 20 minutes before she wanted to leave to somehow acquire smoke in the middle of town with my mother next to me... We spoke to some people on the street they knew, eventually we got a hook up half an hour away. Ethan and Alex went back to my mothers with her, who would come to pick us up later. Annelise had a train to get back to Nairn, and Kaylie was still in work. Me and Chris and Annelise found the 2 of them.
There is now an hour or two of me and Chris meeting and loosing people, while Connar and Peter go pick up the smoke. After loosing and finding and leaving everyone 4/5 diffrent times we eventually got a lift down to Croachy. Kaylie and Alissa had to work the next morning so they got a lift back into town at around 11. We smoked a lot of weed in the boiler house before they left and I think after, watched a lot of movies, and I crashed in my bed. Woke up and sorted some stuff out, missed out the first joint intentionally then took some of the second.
Then things got VERY bad. My dad arrived, the door wasn't bolted (It's got bolts on the door just for him...) and he smashed the house up a bit, took some stuff and shouted at me for "trashing" the flat. I knew it wasn't that bad at all. To give comparison he described the place with "curtains ripped off the rails" when one person had held onto one and it had fallen off... Would of taken a minute or so to put back on... My mother had phoned the police who arrived, said very little to us about anything, were actually sort of friendly. They left, then a few hours later everyone was driven back in. I didn't need to come so didn't. Cleaned up a little and unpacked the Xbox that had arrived today. Then had a nice big roast and wrote this.
This is pretty messy, I have probably got lots of words mixed up, spelt peoples names in different ways every time and missed out fundamentalist over the last few days, but alas at least I bothered to write all this up wasn't easy...
or God. I don't know. Older/elder Black gentleman. I saw him in Lowes, and I stepped to the side to let him pass as we were heading toward one another, as it also worked out for me to step that way- it's where I was going, to a cart full of plants that were on clearance. We just happened to intersect. He said "Thank you! You stopped the snow and brought the sun out!".
This was a little confusing for me. I told him I did not, smiling. I don't think he knew he just gave a guy with a God complex more fuel. Haha. I returned it back to him, saying thank you to him, implying, for doing the same.
It might have been my hat.
This was a little confusing for me. I told him I did not, smiling. I don't think he knew he just gave a guy with a God complex more fuel. Haha. I returned it back to him, saying thank you to him, implying, for doing the same.
It might have been my hat.
I feel like it's spiralling out of control & worries me greatly. I'm too sarcastic to take my problems seriously until it all blows up in my mind. When days blur into weeks into months, I know I have a problem. I don't want to keep this up.
Hahahaha. This movie Showgirls is so lame. Sorry, I was getting ready to type something else, but its on TV and I got distracted by Jessie Spannow from saved by the bell prancing around in a sparkley gold tunic while making these ridiculous faces attempting to dance. God, this is terrible. The acting is completely laughable. Not that I'm a movie critic or even remotely interested in plays or those theatre types. I just spent way too much time typing about that.
I should go to bed.
I should go to bed.
Bad choices get high
nod out no pride
hurt people tell lies
gazing at the skies
tears flowing from eyes
not a cat but 9 lives
everyone of us dies
finished with this phony guise
screwed up what i can’t devise
shown myself with no disguise
i must admit i’ve gotten wise
no longer stuck in my demise
maybe self esteem will rise
life is always a surprise
but i’ve been taught not to surmise
so for my effort whats my prize?
A heaping pile o’ SHIT n FLIES.
nod out no pride
hurt people tell lies
gazing at the skies
tears flowing from eyes
not a cat but 9 lives
everyone of us dies
finished with this phony guise
screwed up what i can’t devise
shown myself with no disguise
i must admit i’ve gotten wise
no longer stuck in my demise
maybe self esteem will rise
life is always a surprise
but i’ve been taught not to surmise
so for my effort whats my prize?
A heaping pile o’ SHIT n FLIES.
Going to the docs
switch me to oxymorphone!!! :_(
Got these cheeseburgers
But seriously im going to the docs on wednesdat and fucking PRAY PRAY PRAY they will switch me from oxycodone 10mg ir to oxymorphone 5mg ir if I ask him to!!! I was shooting dlpe for a little so my track marks have marginally reappeared but I havent shot any thing in a fww weeks... but its do or die time! The oxycodone only lasts me 4 days normally so I gotta try to get him to switch me.... ugh I hope he does. And also I hope I can control myself if I do get them lol im gona go fuckin craaaaazy being so happy if I do itll be the best moment of my life
switch me to oxymorphone!!! :_(
Got these cheeseburgers
But seriously im going to the docs on wednesdat and fucking PRAY PRAY PRAY they will switch me from oxycodone 10mg ir to oxymorphone 5mg ir if I ask him to!!! I was shooting dlpe for a little so my track marks have marginally reappeared but I havent shot any thing in a fww weeks... but its do or die time! The oxycodone only lasts me 4 days normally so I gotta try to get him to switch me.... ugh I hope he does. And also I hope I can control myself if I do get them lol im gona go fuckin craaaaazy being so happy if I do itll be the best moment of my life
... is for me and Skrillex to Kill Everybody with AKs, then have a threesome with deadmau5 (whose life we will spare, at least until we fuck him. aaahahahaha!)
As I was leaving, we were at the doorway still talking. I saw the time was 6:11- 06:11. I saw my birthday in the numbers as it is 6/11, as June 11th, and smiled, telling her so.
Standing in the doorway, now stepping onto the porch, I turned around, still talking to her, and saw things on the wall opposite the entrance-- The name "Mike" written, I see first, designed on the wall, next/surrounded by what looked like birds. At first I thought they were life sized figures of vultures, or stuffed vulture-like birds. One was a bald eagle. Perhaps representation, the eagle was, but I don't know what the others even were.
She bled during sex, just starting her period. This is the second time this has happened for me, in life. Once I was with a girl- in a relationship, and she knew already she was on her period, so I don't count that. The first time was after that relationship, one day after we broke up- or one day after I last saw her, when a girl named Tara came and visited, having learned I was single. It was Labor Day, I think, when it occurred with her.
Jamie had advertised her body for sex/companionship, online- how I met her. This is the first time that I did this in awhile, relative to how much I want to have sex. This is the first time I went through with it in awhile, to pay for it. I'm usually regretful. I would usually wish I had the money back, for something else. This time, it's okay. She was friendly, and interesting, and attractive. She was genuine, as far as I could tell... Not that it wasn't a business transaction, but she expressed interest in seeing me outside of business, as friends, smoking marijuana, and perhaps tripping, as she mentioned she really likes acid. And DMT- when I mentioned that.
I was sweet with her, as well. I called her beautiful, because I felt so. I liked her freckles all over her body. The shape of her body was tight, and really rather impressive. I felt naturally with her. And she seemed to like me. She came, or said she did, asking if I did/thinking I did. I felt better, as I was slightly rusty. She didn't overtly fake anything. She didn't scream. I didn't even know she was really that into it, to come, although she was very tense, her mouth open, smiling, and receptive to my touch. She seemed to like her legs all the way up on my shoulders- her calves on my chest/shoulders- a position that my ex felt too much pain in, but I liked. I imagine this might give her certain sensation more. Not sure. I like it.
I came, after noticing the blood, I didn't mind it/ I decided to give into it. At this point I had turned her over, to gain leverage, and ride her. There was a roughness, but still a gentleness, and rhythm, that I hadn't fallen into since the last time I had non-paid sex, with a girl with the last name Hart, that was over a year ago. I like her skin. I accepted her. I wanted to touch her. I didn't see a disgusting prostitute that had just fucked 9 guys in a day, like was possible. I didn't care about that. I saw a human, who I was attracted to, and who deserved my love, like anyone does... though some, like her, are easier to feel it for.
As I finished, I stayed inside of her, finishing reading the tattoos on her back. She was in no rush to separate. I rubbed her back some, and then smacked her right cheek playfully, gently, once, and began to separate slowly, still touching her. The tattoos- one of them was in honor of someone who died. I began to process this while having sex with her. 2008-2012. I put it together that she might have lost a child recently, so felt some sensitivity. The other, on the other shoulder-blade- the right, "God, grant me courage to accept the things I cannot change, The courage to change the things I can, And the wisdom to know the difference". On her lower spine was a heart, I think, of sorts, if I recall correctly.
When I asked about her tattoos, afterwards, she told me about how her children had died just last year, or a little over a year ago, in 2012. 10 year old boy, and 5 year old daughter. Car crash. She had one tattoo on her left leg, of an angel- what looked like a cherub- the kind depicted with the child's face. To one side was one name of one child, and the other side, the other. I gave condolences. It was somewhat shocking, and made me feel deeper for her, than the connection I already felt.
So many girls I am attracted to lately have abuse in their lives. Beautiful girls. Sweet. Abused. It makes me wish I had the wings to wrap around them, to give them protection, and love, and strength of wholesomeness. Arms big enough to hold them. To let them stand on their own, and be positive in life. But I guess God uses us all. Just not how we think.
She said the only thing that seems to help her is going to church, which I found strange in one second, hearing from a girl who had just accepted money in exchange for physical services such as this, but really, how I really feel, is that that's just the stigma. Sex... Is really no different than massage therapy, in ways. The only thing that makes it different, as in potentially bad, is the diseases that can be transmitted, and unwanted pregnancy (or, wanted)... And humans are just fearful, which is understandable, given the potential consequences. We developed plotting out causes and effects. It's natural that we have certain reservations, and even that we form really extreme views about ourselves.
But I continued to touch her, as we were getting dressed. I hugged her. I rubbed her chest, standing face to face, as she had a small cough, and expressed some worry of what it was. She's a smoker. She accepted/wanted my touch. And she did something I have never had a girl do, in memory, as I sat still. I think it was before what I just mentioned. She tried to pop what she thought was a pimple, on my shoulder. I've had a red blemish develop. She thought it might be an ingrown hair, after being unsuccessful. Her love, and making me feel comfortable with the grossest parts of me, made me feel accepted.
When you're out of a relationship for so long, you forget these things. She showed me more acceptance than any girl I have slept with, so far. Maybe I didn't let them, but I can't imagine them being totally weird and going to pop my pimples... Not that I have them really so much anymore, nor did I ever have much issue, luckily, but still.
She used to work at the hospital near me- St. Vincent's. Medical billing. But she got fired after her children died, and she just found it hard to go to work enough to be worth it to them. She said they did try to work with her, but that she understood why they let her go.
This girl spoke with more compassion and understanding for others than most people I know. She was sweet natured, and loving. Maybe she just takes her job seriously, one might say, but my instinct says she is genuinely this person. She loves people. Not that she "falls" in love.
I started to sort of offer her a job- the job I have. Not to take it, but that she could also work there... She sounded interested, but she has a DUI from 7 years or so ago, that will probably bar her from being qualified. But my driver manager has a prior felony, and he drove, so I am considering asking him if he has a place for her. We are a medical courier company, mainly, though we handle anything. She's just finding it hard to find work, as the DUI is a felony. I didn't ask why it was a felony.
But we're going to hang out, sometime-- Or she wants to. I treated her right. She was loving, back. Not that I... Think the way to go is for her to be my girlfriend. But not that I am closed off.
She has red hair. Though dyed blonde. I couldn't tell from her pictures. But her complexion gave it away.
When I left, I noticed I had been sent an email by my car dealership, telling me my 21 month service was due. Andrew Hart sent the message, and it came as I was on my way to see her. The last time I enjoyed sex was with Whitney Hart. A few ways at least, this resonated, to receive this message at this time. She bled. She touched me, and I was touched, emotionally. And it didn't feel fake. I put my hands over her heart, rubbing her chest, and on her neckless was a heart of sorts, made of a silver-like band of material forged in the shape of one, and as I came, I'm pretty sure I looked at a heart on her back, or at least, that was the closest image to see, if that's what it was. Of course, though, it's Hart, not Heart. But it resonates. With Whitney Hart, she's the last time I had consensual, non-paid sex. I had also been suffering from what felt like heart- chest pain, for the week prior to meeting her, and sex with her eased my tensions. Another resonance would be, I went to the hospital one year after I met a girl who I was touched by, but who the relationship with fizzled with, for what I thought was a heart attack. Elephant sitting on my chest. One year after, at work, I took an order to a "HART", as the first, and last order of the day- which may have been the only time I only took one order, when I think. And the next year, my grandmother died, and I was suffering from arrhythmia around the time, and severe chest pains, from a food sensitivity- the same reason the first time I went to the hospital thinking I had had an attack. But, it's more involved, as if you have read what I have written in this blog, and elsewhere, and been able to receive it- been open to it, you already expect as much.
Mike, the mechanic-el.
Standing in the doorway, now stepping onto the porch, I turned around, still talking to her, and saw things on the wall opposite the entrance-- The name "Mike" written, I see first, designed on the wall, next/surrounded by what looked like birds. At first I thought they were life sized figures of vultures, or stuffed vulture-like birds. One was a bald eagle. Perhaps representation, the eagle was, but I don't know what the others even were.
She bled during sex, just starting her period. This is the second time this has happened for me, in life. Once I was with a girl- in a relationship, and she knew already she was on her period, so I don't count that. The first time was after that relationship, one day after we broke up- or one day after I last saw her, when a girl named Tara came and visited, having learned I was single. It was Labor Day, I think, when it occurred with her.
Jamie had advertised her body for sex/companionship, online- how I met her. This is the first time that I did this in awhile, relative to how much I want to have sex. This is the first time I went through with it in awhile, to pay for it. I'm usually regretful. I would usually wish I had the money back, for something else. This time, it's okay. She was friendly, and interesting, and attractive. She was genuine, as far as I could tell... Not that it wasn't a business transaction, but she expressed interest in seeing me outside of business, as friends, smoking marijuana, and perhaps tripping, as she mentioned she really likes acid. And DMT- when I mentioned that.
I was sweet with her, as well. I called her beautiful, because I felt so. I liked her freckles all over her body. The shape of her body was tight, and really rather impressive. I felt naturally with her. And she seemed to like me. She came, or said she did, asking if I did/thinking I did. I felt better, as I was slightly rusty. She didn't overtly fake anything. She didn't scream. I didn't even know she was really that into it, to come, although she was very tense, her mouth open, smiling, and receptive to my touch. She seemed to like her legs all the way up on my shoulders- her calves on my chest/shoulders- a position that my ex felt too much pain in, but I liked. I imagine this might give her certain sensation more. Not sure. I like it.
I came, after noticing the blood, I didn't mind it/ I decided to give into it. At this point I had turned her over, to gain leverage, and ride her. There was a roughness, but still a gentleness, and rhythm, that I hadn't fallen into since the last time I had non-paid sex, with a girl with the last name Hart, that was over a year ago. I like her skin. I accepted her. I wanted to touch her. I didn't see a disgusting prostitute that had just fucked 9 guys in a day, like was possible. I didn't care about that. I saw a human, who I was attracted to, and who deserved my love, like anyone does... though some, like her, are easier to feel it for.
As I finished, I stayed inside of her, finishing reading the tattoos on her back. She was in no rush to separate. I rubbed her back some, and then smacked her right cheek playfully, gently, once, and began to separate slowly, still touching her. The tattoos- one of them was in honor of someone who died. I began to process this while having sex with her. 2008-2012. I put it together that she might have lost a child recently, so felt some sensitivity. The other, on the other shoulder-blade- the right, "God, grant me courage to accept the things I cannot change, The courage to change the things I can, And the wisdom to know the difference". On her lower spine was a heart, I think, of sorts, if I recall correctly.
When I asked about her tattoos, afterwards, she told me about how her children had died just last year, or a little over a year ago, in 2012. 10 year old boy, and 5 year old daughter. Car crash. She had one tattoo on her left leg, of an angel- what looked like a cherub- the kind depicted with the child's face. To one side was one name of one child, and the other side, the other. I gave condolences. It was somewhat shocking, and made me feel deeper for her, than the connection I already felt.
So many girls I am attracted to lately have abuse in their lives. Beautiful girls. Sweet. Abused. It makes me wish I had the wings to wrap around them, to give them protection, and love, and strength of wholesomeness. Arms big enough to hold them. To let them stand on their own, and be positive in life. But I guess God uses us all. Just not how we think.
She said the only thing that seems to help her is going to church, which I found strange in one second, hearing from a girl who had just accepted money in exchange for physical services such as this, but really, how I really feel, is that that's just the stigma. Sex... Is really no different than massage therapy, in ways. The only thing that makes it different, as in potentially bad, is the diseases that can be transmitted, and unwanted pregnancy (or, wanted)... And humans are just fearful, which is understandable, given the potential consequences. We developed plotting out causes and effects. It's natural that we have certain reservations, and even that we form really extreme views about ourselves.
But I continued to touch her, as we were getting dressed. I hugged her. I rubbed her chest, standing face to face, as she had a small cough, and expressed some worry of what it was. She's a smoker. She accepted/wanted my touch. And she did something I have never had a girl do, in memory, as I sat still. I think it was before what I just mentioned. She tried to pop what she thought was a pimple, on my shoulder. I've had a red blemish develop. She thought it might be an ingrown hair, after being unsuccessful. Her love, and making me feel comfortable with the grossest parts of me, made me feel accepted.
When you're out of a relationship for so long, you forget these things. She showed me more acceptance than any girl I have slept with, so far. Maybe I didn't let them, but I can't imagine them being totally weird and going to pop my pimples... Not that I have them really so much anymore, nor did I ever have much issue, luckily, but still.
She used to work at the hospital near me- St. Vincent's. Medical billing. But she got fired after her children died, and she just found it hard to go to work enough to be worth it to them. She said they did try to work with her, but that she understood why they let her go.
This girl spoke with more compassion and understanding for others than most people I know. She was sweet natured, and loving. Maybe she just takes her job seriously, one might say, but my instinct says she is genuinely this person. She loves people. Not that she "falls" in love.
I started to sort of offer her a job- the job I have. Not to take it, but that she could also work there... She sounded interested, but she has a DUI from 7 years or so ago, that will probably bar her from being qualified. But my driver manager has a prior felony, and he drove, so I am considering asking him if he has a place for her. We are a medical courier company, mainly, though we handle anything. She's just finding it hard to find work, as the DUI is a felony. I didn't ask why it was a felony.
But we're going to hang out, sometime-- Or she wants to. I treated her right. She was loving, back. Not that I... Think the way to go is for her to be my girlfriend. But not that I am closed off.
She has red hair. Though dyed blonde. I couldn't tell from her pictures. But her complexion gave it away.
When I left, I noticed I had been sent an email by my car dealership, telling me my 21 month service was due. Andrew Hart sent the message, and it came as I was on my way to see her. The last time I enjoyed sex was with Whitney Hart. A few ways at least, this resonated, to receive this message at this time. She bled. She touched me, and I was touched, emotionally. And it didn't feel fake. I put my hands over her heart, rubbing her chest, and on her neckless was a heart of sorts, made of a silver-like band of material forged in the shape of one, and as I came, I'm pretty sure I looked at a heart on her back, or at least, that was the closest image to see, if that's what it was. Of course, though, it's Hart, not Heart. But it resonates. With Whitney Hart, she's the last time I had consensual, non-paid sex. I had also been suffering from what felt like heart- chest pain, for the week prior to meeting her, and sex with her eased my tensions. Another resonance would be, I went to the hospital one year after I met a girl who I was touched by, but who the relationship with fizzled with, for what I thought was a heart attack. Elephant sitting on my chest. One year after, at work, I took an order to a "HART", as the first, and last order of the day- which may have been the only time I only took one order, when I think. And the next year, my grandmother died, and I was suffering from arrhythmia around the time, and severe chest pains, from a food sensitivity- the same reason the first time I went to the hospital thinking I had had an attack. But, it's more involved, as if you have read what I have written in this blog, and elsewhere, and been able to receive it- been open to it, you already expect as much.
Mike, the mechanic-el.
The air has been still and silent for the entirety of the evening but a sudden movement, a disturbance as it blows across my bare skin causes me to wonder if i'm cold, if the temperature has changed, if I should abandon my plan to approach the beast head on and naked, unafraid of a scratch or a bite, welcoming the bruises and the blood.
I, 99.99 percent of the time that I am horny, cannot justify paying for sex, but I'm always tempted.
I am a loner. Its not that I'm unlikable, in person. Most people seem to like me a lot more in person than my written words on a screen, from the experience I have. But I guess over the years, I lost my circle, because I'm injured. I always have been... But back in the days of compulsory education, and neighborhood living, friends just happened, and I toughed it out... self medicating Coca Cola, sugar, then coffee with spoonfuls of sugar, and pseudoephedrine and ibuprofen in massive quantities. But around college age my body began to reject things more radically. I became more ill. I locked myself in rooms. No longer could friends rouse me the same, because I could get away, and got used to it. The only thing I wanted was weed, to ease myself. Weed and things I could control, like videogames.
Anyways. I've been in a similar place since. I have only recently gained awareness of what was making me sick the whole time, and a lot of times, its other people, and what they put on themselves... All of the fragrances. Not that I didn't used to make myself sick with the same thing.
So I protect myself. In public I'm a nice enough guy. I speak well enough. People take time to talk to me, as I try to take time for them. Cops let me off with warnings. I've had five in the last year alone, for speeding, and not signalling once. But I never want to spend much time with them- people. I fear the pain. I don't want to forfeit control. My castle. If I have a girl... I usually only want her once or twice. I don't want her "in my life". Even when I had them in my life I don't really think I let them in.
But in passing, I'm a nice guy. I'm social. I smile. I get attention. I don't ask for a lot.
Anyways... Tonight I broke down and wanted companionship. Sex, but companionship.
I found Jaymie (or Jamie), online. I paid her $100. She was the sweetest girl I have met in awhile. Injured, damaged, but sweet, and genuinely nice. She is a natural redhead. I didn't know this before I met her. She was blond in her pictures. Still is, but I could tell from her complexion... Her freckles. She's the first girl I have actually really been interested in touching, on her genitals, in awhile. I don't care that I paid her money. And usually, I regret it. Here, with her, I made a friend.
She tried to pop a pimple that was on my chest. She just went to it, after we were done, and we had been talking. I don't get pimples often at all... But uhh... There was a tiny red blemish. She wasn't successful, and said it was probably an in-grown hair.
...No girl has ever done that.
I actually like her. Friendly like. Companion like. Not that I am falling for her, but I want her to be happy, and to have love. I wanted to show her love. Most prostitutes don't kiss. Well, some do... But I wouldn't want to kiss most. Most people. She was seemingly reserved, but during sex, she came, and I told her she was beautiful. I told her before. There was light kissing. It was nice. She thought that I came... But I take a second to enjoy myself.
I turned her over. Doggy style. I noticed blood. I thought it was something else. But I wasn't going to let something else ruin the moment. So I went primal. And came, eventually, pounding her from behind. I fell into a rhythm. Its been awhile... Since the last time I had consensual non paid sex, a year and a half ago.
It turned out it was blood. She started her period. The last time that happened was on Labor Day, about 7 years ago, after my ex and I broke up and Tara came to see me, the day after. She bled during.
Jamie and I continued to talk. She didn't rush me out. She wants to hang out, as friends. She likes psychedelics. And weed. She brought up acid.
Her two children died last year... Or 2012. 10 and 5. Car crash. She says church helps... and that's about all that helps. She worked in medical coding, but lost her job because she was too depressed to work. Strong girl really. Sweet. Troubled... but so am I, so I am not one to judge her.
When I left, I noticed the time on an alarm clock at next to the door was 6:11. I positioned it, facing it toward her as I was editing her house, as she was walking me out, where it was on top of a speaker, and said "that's my birthday", with a smile. And upon exiting I see the name "Mike" on the wall, as I turn around, stepping out, still talking to her, on the wall opposite the door. A bald eagle looking stuffed bird was next to it, and perhaps other stuffed birds. I don't think it was real, but I'm not positive (or negative).
She has a tattoo of an Angel on her thigh, with the names of her two children that died. Many other tattoos. One that means soul in Chinese lettering at the bottom of her left rib cage. The birthday and death-date of her daughter on her left shoulder blade, and on her right a bible verse about worrying only about what she can control... And giving the rest to God, I think. Or the things she can change... And things she can't. I need to ask her. Then a heart and a flower. I know a flower was on her front. Maybe the heart was on her spine.
Freckles.
Red. Blood.
As I drove to her house, I got an email from an Andrew Hart... at my car dealership, reminding me of my 21 month service. The last sex that was good was with Whitney Hart, about a year and half ago.
I might have made a friend.
I am a loner. Its not that I'm unlikable, in person. Most people seem to like me a lot more in person than my written words on a screen, from the experience I have. But I guess over the years, I lost my circle, because I'm injured. I always have been... But back in the days of compulsory education, and neighborhood living, friends just happened, and I toughed it out... self medicating Coca Cola, sugar, then coffee with spoonfuls of sugar, and pseudoephedrine and ibuprofen in massive quantities. But around college age my body began to reject things more radically. I became more ill. I locked myself in rooms. No longer could friends rouse me the same, because I could get away, and got used to it. The only thing I wanted was weed, to ease myself. Weed and things I could control, like videogames.
Anyways. I've been in a similar place since. I have only recently gained awareness of what was making me sick the whole time, and a lot of times, its other people, and what they put on themselves... All of the fragrances. Not that I didn't used to make myself sick with the same thing.
So I protect myself. In public I'm a nice enough guy. I speak well enough. People take time to talk to me, as I try to take time for them. Cops let me off with warnings. I've had five in the last year alone, for speeding, and not signalling once. But I never want to spend much time with them- people. I fear the pain. I don't want to forfeit control. My castle. If I have a girl... I usually only want her once or twice. I don't want her "in my life". Even when I had them in my life I don't really think I let them in.
But in passing, I'm a nice guy. I'm social. I smile. I get attention. I don't ask for a lot.
Anyways... Tonight I broke down and wanted companionship. Sex, but companionship.
I found Jaymie (or Jamie), online. I paid her $100. She was the sweetest girl I have met in awhile. Injured, damaged, but sweet, and genuinely nice. She is a natural redhead. I didn't know this before I met her. She was blond in her pictures. Still is, but I could tell from her complexion... Her freckles. She's the first girl I have actually really been interested in touching, on her genitals, in awhile. I don't care that I paid her money. And usually, I regret it. Here, with her, I made a friend.
She tried to pop a pimple that was on my chest. She just went to it, after we were done, and we had been talking. I don't get pimples often at all... But uhh... There was a tiny red blemish. She wasn't successful, and said it was probably an in-grown hair.
...No girl has ever done that.
I actually like her. Friendly like. Companion like. Not that I am falling for her, but I want her to be happy, and to have love. I wanted to show her love. Most prostitutes don't kiss. Well, some do... But I wouldn't want to kiss most. Most people. She was seemingly reserved, but during sex, she came, and I told her she was beautiful. I told her before. There was light kissing. It was nice. She thought that I came... But I take a second to enjoy myself.
I turned her over. Doggy style. I noticed blood. I thought it was something else. But I wasn't going to let something else ruin the moment. So I went primal. And came, eventually, pounding her from behind. I fell into a rhythm. Its been awhile... Since the last time I had consensual non paid sex, a year and a half ago.
It turned out it was blood. She started her period. The last time that happened was on Labor Day, about 7 years ago, after my ex and I broke up and Tara came to see me, the day after. She bled during.
Jamie and I continued to talk. She didn't rush me out. She wants to hang out, as friends. She likes psychedelics. And weed. She brought up acid.
Her two children died last year... Or 2012. 10 and 5. Car crash. She says church helps... and that's about all that helps. She worked in medical coding, but lost her job because she was too depressed to work. Strong girl really. Sweet. Troubled... but so am I, so I am not one to judge her.
When I left, I noticed the time on an alarm clock at next to the door was 6:11. I positioned it, facing it toward her as I was editing her house, as she was walking me out, where it was on top of a speaker, and said "that's my birthday", with a smile. And upon exiting I see the name "Mike" on the wall, as I turn around, stepping out, still talking to her, on the wall opposite the door. A bald eagle looking stuffed bird was next to it, and perhaps other stuffed birds. I don't think it was real, but I'm not positive (or negative).
She has a tattoo of an Angel on her thigh, with the names of her two children that died. Many other tattoos. One that means soul in Chinese lettering at the bottom of her left rib cage. The birthday and death-date of her daughter on her left shoulder blade, and on her right a bible verse about worrying only about what she can control... And giving the rest to God, I think. Or the things she can change... And things she can't. I need to ask her. Then a heart and a flower. I know a flower was on her front. Maybe the heart was on her spine.
Freckles.
Red. Blood.
As I drove to her house, I got an email from an Andrew Hart... at my car dealership, reminding me of my 21 month service. The last sex that was good was with Whitney Hart, about a year and half ago.
I might have made a friend.
...
The same day I had a dream, and posted here:
--------------
I had originally written, at the end in what I wrote, that we made plans to smoke hash, and watch The Fifth Element together, but I chose to take that part down (I'm having doubts that I'm getting the hash as planned, for one... I hate lying). In conversation with her- the girl I wrote about, I told her about my dream, and that maybe it meant I was supposed to drink her. (Eat) her (sexually), trying to joke, but also being serious. She responded, at a point, "a dream cum true".
I haven't pursued, today. I think I am changing my mind.
Avi was the first girl I really kind of fell for, on that website- OkCupid. She ran away, disabling her account after I ignored her- not talking to her for a day, after we made a connection (I lock up sometimes when I like someone), and right after a voice told me "disable me!"- or something close, when I felt a sexual energy so very strong, with her in mind, unable to say it. It might have nothing to do with me, but we were certainly with each other, and sometimes still seem to be.
SEPARATION
had a dream he basically saw women as drugs, sex, and music..
and that was enough for me. the fact that he saw us that way.
that separated me from him. i no longer wanted any thing more to do with him.
The same day I had a dream, and posted here:
V-Day synch
I had a dream. I mainly remember having a cup of coffee poured, or pouring one. I haven't drank coffee since I became sick about 4 years ago.
Today I was swiping on OkCupid. Swiping is where you like someone or pass on them by swiping them right for like and left for pass. The people you like only know you like them if they like you too. It's only based on images. You don't visit their profile.
One girl, liked me today too. She works as sort of a barista in one of her jobs, making coffee, lattes, and cappuccinos (with/serving other things, too, like food/pastries).
She's 11 years younger than me, which is quite a bit. She's 20- almost 21. I'm 31, almost 32. I don't really see it going anywhere. I kind of just want to fuck around/enjoy myself a little.
--------------
I had originally written, at the end in what I wrote, that we made plans to smoke hash, and watch The Fifth Element together, but I chose to take that part down (I'm having doubts that I'm getting the hash as planned, for one... I hate lying). In conversation with her- the girl I wrote about, I told her about my dream, and that maybe it meant I was supposed to drink her. (Eat) her (sexually), trying to joke, but also being serious. She responded, at a point, "a dream cum true".
I haven't pursued, today. I think I am changing my mind.
Avi was the first girl I really kind of fell for, on that website- OkCupid. She ran away, disabling her account after I ignored her- not talking to her for a day, after we made a connection (I lock up sometimes when I like someone), and right after a voice told me "disable me!"- or something close, when I felt a sexual energy so very strong, with her in mind, unable to say it. It might have nothing to do with me, but we were certainly with each other, and sometimes still seem to be.
Entertaining fantasy.
Who will I marry?
I replace their last name with my last name (but, in later life- now, I would rather them keep their names, but hyphenate, I think).
Zena's would become 209, one way with Thomas, if calculated full (Z=26).
On the side of friends, I wanted RoboCop to be friends with ED-209, and take on evil. But in the movies, RoboCop beats the ED-209.
So I guess, I beat that desire, perhaps.
Then there is Melissa, who I started to see around the same time as 23 (Grey's number ends in 2323, as one to put here), and where pain set in, this time. Melissa Michele Maple. With Thomas, replacing Maple, one sum is 209, corresponding with the same method used, for Zena's. The first connection I have to her- Melissa, known, personally, besides my dad being taught dancing by her grandfather, is her cousin, Paige. Paige who I danced with- the first one I remember. Probably ever. Paige, who resonates with "page", where books are written, and Melissa, her cousin, who I met in speech, whose future husband/ex husband threatened to tell my mother about all the "dirty things Melissa and I did", in a letter, given to her in church.
I don't really know. I know I need to love her, too. And back then, I just took advantage of the situation. Not that I did it lovelessly, but I did it recklessly. She wanted me to be with her. She wanted me to rescue her, from this abusive fuck, Nelson Rose, who captured her when she was 12, and he was 18-19, and nobody ever stepped in to help. She wasn't strong enough yet to stand on her own. I wasn't ready to give my heart to someone else.
Her son is named Israel.
I may try to help her. I'm just afraid I'll try to fuck her, and it won't work out. So I stay away, or have. But I just offered her a place to stay, the other night... Because she lives at home with her parents, and is stuck in a hole. She needs to get away from those around her. She needs positive support. She needs a job, to stand on her own. I don't want to "take care of her", because I don't trust myself, to do so. I fail a lot. And God uses that failure. Plus, honestly, I'm not sure I want her like that. But that wouldn't stop me from having sex with her, and then I don't know what.
Melissa is associated with Honey, or Honey-bee/drop of Honey. Maple is also associated with sweetness. Michelle... Michael. Who is like God. Zena's hair can be like fire, honey, blood, or gold, or copper, or iron... I liked how her father seemed to use a lot of that color (the orange), even before she was born. When I noticed he had a daughter, and seeing her, in a way it was like magic. It was one of the first real instances I could say I cocked my head, consciously, questioning something, like that. Like she was a manifestation of something, being manifested.
Irregardless of me, these people are special. And my "reality"- my world, is not the only one. But they connect through me, it seems.
Who will I marry?
I replace their last name with my last name (but, in later life- now, I would rather them keep their names, but hyphenate, I think).
Zena's would become 209, one way with Thomas, if calculated full (Z=26).
On the side of friends, I wanted RoboCop to be friends with ED-209, and take on evil. But in the movies, RoboCop beats the ED-209.
So I guess, I beat that desire, perhaps.
Then there is Melissa, who I started to see around the same time as 23 (Grey's number ends in 2323, as one to put here), and where pain set in, this time. Melissa Michele Maple. With Thomas, replacing Maple, one sum is 209, corresponding with the same method used, for Zena's. The first connection I have to her- Melissa, known, personally, besides my dad being taught dancing by her grandfather, is her cousin, Paige. Paige who I danced with- the first one I remember. Probably ever. Paige, who resonates with "page", where books are written, and Melissa, her cousin, who I met in speech, whose future husband/ex husband threatened to tell my mother about all the "dirty things Melissa and I did", in a letter, given to her in church.
I don't really know. I know I need to love her, too. And back then, I just took advantage of the situation. Not that I did it lovelessly, but I did it recklessly. She wanted me to be with her. She wanted me to rescue her, from this abusive fuck, Nelson Rose, who captured her when she was 12, and he was 18-19, and nobody ever stepped in to help. She wasn't strong enough yet to stand on her own. I wasn't ready to give my heart to someone else.
Her son is named Israel.
I may try to help her. I'm just afraid I'll try to fuck her, and it won't work out. So I stay away, or have. But I just offered her a place to stay, the other night... Because she lives at home with her parents, and is stuck in a hole. She needs to get away from those around her. She needs positive support. She needs a job, to stand on her own. I don't want to "take care of her", because I don't trust myself, to do so. I fail a lot. And God uses that failure. Plus, honestly, I'm not sure I want her like that. But that wouldn't stop me from having sex with her, and then I don't know what.
Melissa is associated with Honey, or Honey-bee/drop of Honey. Maple is also associated with sweetness. Michelle... Michael. Who is like God. Zena's hair can be like fire, honey, blood, or gold, or copper, or iron... I liked how her father seemed to use a lot of that color (the orange), even before she was born. When I noticed he had a daughter, and seeing her, in a way it was like magic. It was one of the first real instances I could say I cocked my head, consciously, questioning something, like that. Like she was a manifestation of something, being manifested.
Irregardless of me, these people are special. And my "reality"- my world, is not the only one. But they connect through me, it seems.
Numbers, 0-9.
My voices argue with me. They say that this is but one system. I can rationalize and simplify, and I know why I use them. But it's not just these letters, and these numbers. Patterns would happen anyways.
Not just around me, either. I just have eyes. My dad was kicked out of an experiment at his university, conducted my a guy who was testing something with vision- I don't know what it was. But he said my dad was cheating, and kicked him out. He said it was impossible that my dad saw what he did. Story, or tall-tale (he doesn't lie), it's one of the prominent ones that my dad told... That and beating a record for the satan course, er, obstacle course in officer's training school, three times, beating his own time twice after the first. And flying observation, and dating the actress who played wonder woman, and the time when the king cobra raised up in front of him in the jungle a foot or two away, eye level, and the time his error caused the death of a holy cow.
I take hints from my past.
I really love RoboCop. I watched it a lot as a child. ED-209 is a robot that the original RoboCop was up against, at some point.
One girl I began to crush on/take interest in, after Marilyn, and after I saw "patterns", was Zena Grey.
Marilyn had framed prints that I had, by her father, Alex Grey, that my mother gave me the Christmas before, along with giving me the watch, for the Christmas we spent together. The print number was 26/100 for these. The framing. The timing. 26 letters in this common alphabet, now, that I used to communicate- that the world at the time that it was connected, used as a standard. My jaw hurts. My ears have hurt/had chronic disease, at times.
When else would "I" come?
I'm not asking for anything. Maybe attention. Maybe for you to pay attention to yourselves. Maybe for you to stop being such fucking assholes. Not you. Maybe you. I don't know.
I look at Zena's name, and I have struggled with things (I divert, and don't make sense because of it, I look at her name, and it's interesting: I'll get around to explaining). At one time I thought I might have some romantic destiny with her. This makes me uncomfortable (I don't know her, and I question my motivation). She was the first red-haired girl that I associated some specific way. I can't explain. The archetype red-head that I see in paintings. I saw her before Marilyn, who was the first red-haired girl I dated.
I crucify myself.
I forgot about her- Zena. Then I remembered her. I masturbated to her, when I roomed with Charles, at IU. That's when I first saw her. They all have that color of hair, like fire. Charles, Marilyn, Zena.
Back to the alphabet. Z and A. Zena's name. ZA. ZA. Lotus. Like my life. Like life itself, I guess. Others can word it better than me. Grey. I understand.
I thought at one point I had destiny. Now I know I just need to love. Even if I don't, always. That's the only thing that is 100%, even if I die with it. Even if I'm on my knees, and and army is coming at me, and I have another choice... To not love, and to evade death. I would choose love, and die. She is just an example. I have had many examples, but she has been special, because she has tested my desire. My desire for... I guess, what I perceived to be success in the world, by her father, and association with the popularity of the band, Tool, who I thought, and still think, are cool. And Marilyn being on Maynard, when everything came to a certain end. I'm not quite sure how it all connects, but nothing is more than a step (?) away.
ZA, Mask, but it's backwards.
I'm connected to whatever I see. I am whatever I see. Really see.
Her mother paints images of another language- or letters that she made. Even if I don't, I know I should, love, everyone. So I admit it.
Next, 209, Zena, and Melissa (who is cousins with Paige)...
My voices argue with me. They say that this is but one system. I can rationalize and simplify, and I know why I use them. But it's not just these letters, and these numbers. Patterns would happen anyways.
Not just around me, either. I just have eyes. My dad was kicked out of an experiment at his university, conducted my a guy who was testing something with vision- I don't know what it was. But he said my dad was cheating, and kicked him out. He said it was impossible that my dad saw what he did. Story, or tall-tale (he doesn't lie), it's one of the prominent ones that my dad told... That and beating a record for the satan course, er, obstacle course in officer's training school, three times, beating his own time twice after the first. And flying observation, and dating the actress who played wonder woman, and the time when the king cobra raised up in front of him in the jungle a foot or two away, eye level, and the time his error caused the death of a holy cow.
I take hints from my past.
I really love RoboCop. I watched it a lot as a child. ED-209 is a robot that the original RoboCop was up against, at some point.
One girl I began to crush on/take interest in, after Marilyn, and after I saw "patterns", was Zena Grey.
Marilyn had framed prints that I had, by her father, Alex Grey, that my mother gave me the Christmas before, along with giving me the watch, for the Christmas we spent together. The print number was 26/100 for these. The framing. The timing. 26 letters in this common alphabet, now, that I used to communicate- that the world at the time that it was connected, used as a standard. My jaw hurts. My ears have hurt/had chronic disease, at times.
When else would "I" come?
I'm not asking for anything. Maybe attention. Maybe for you to pay attention to yourselves. Maybe for you to stop being such fucking assholes. Not you. Maybe you. I don't know.
I look at Zena's name, and I have struggled with things (I divert, and don't make sense because of it, I look at her name, and it's interesting: I'll get around to explaining). At one time I thought I might have some romantic destiny with her. This makes me uncomfortable (I don't know her, and I question my motivation). She was the first red-haired girl that I associated some specific way. I can't explain. The archetype red-head that I see in paintings. I saw her before Marilyn, who was the first red-haired girl I dated.
I crucify myself.
I forgot about her- Zena. Then I remembered her. I masturbated to her, when I roomed with Charles, at IU. That's when I first saw her. They all have that color of hair, like fire. Charles, Marilyn, Zena.
Back to the alphabet. Z and A. Zena's name. ZA. ZA. Lotus. Like my life. Like life itself, I guess. Others can word it better than me. Grey. I understand.
I thought at one point I had destiny. Now I know I just need to love. Even if I don't, always. That's the only thing that is 100%, even if I die with it. Even if I'm on my knees, and and army is coming at me, and I have another choice... To not love, and to evade death. I would choose love, and die. She is just an example. I have had many examples, but she has been special, because she has tested my desire. My desire for... I guess, what I perceived to be success in the world, by her father, and association with the popularity of the band, Tool, who I thought, and still think, are cool. And Marilyn being on Maynard, when everything came to a certain end. I'm not quite sure how it all connects, but nothing is more than a step (?) away.
ZA, Mask, but it's backwards.
I'm connected to whatever I see. I am whatever I see. Really see.
Her mother paints images of another language- or letters that she made. Even if I don't, I know I should, love, everyone. So I admit it.
Next, 209, Zena, and Melissa (who is cousins with Paige)...
I asked Alisha to marry me, once, in time after.
I had gone to see her on my 22nd birthday. I was on MDMA. Things didn't go like the dream I dreamed, prior. She was cold, to me, by the end of the night. Though, I can't blame her.
I walked around all night after that, having locked my keys in my car in a town hours away. Four hours, I guess. Until the locksmith opened. I carried around a book called "Sacred Mirrors", as I had had it out to share, and look at, and didn't have a place for it, my car being locked.
For the first time in a long time, I felt relief, after walking until the morning. Relief from the constant facial pain. I wouldn't find out why until many years later, when I discovered that food caused me pain, from food allergies, mainly to milk, at the time. I hadn't ate at that point since the day before. Milk, mother. Alisha, with my mother's maiden name. With a thickness.
I ended up going to stay at Craig and Devon's apartment- two of my friends from my home town, who had also gone to school there (I failed to mention some details: I met Alisha at college, four hours from home). The only two. And they both dated her after me, her for some reason going to them, after we broke up the first time.
Fuckers. J/K. I was never really mad. I was flattered. But confused. This girl had ran away from me. Shied away. I guess so had I.
I asked her to marry me, after my birthday. It was the following week, I think. I was on mushrooms- a the tail end of a good trip, sitting in my car. I recorded a few messages, settling on one, and deciding to have her receive it 6 months from that point, to give what had just happened, us splitting after my birthday, some time to level out. Date sent 12/21/2004. She said yes, with her emotions, but I let her go.
Then I dated Marilyn.
After Marilyn, I began to do the thing with numbers, and letters. I started seeing patterns in things. I felt that order was everywhere. I tested it many ways, and one of them was to take the names of my loves (or who I recognized as such, then), and that was Marilyn, Alisha, Sara, and Katie. Katie, as I spoke the name. Searching for patterns, I took the prominent, M, A, S, and K. MASK. This resonated. how my face hurt. How much I concealed.
Then I went into numbers, calculating name sums, and adding them together. The average sum was 23 for the names written as spoken (Katie never went by Kathryn, but that might reveal another mode of patterning, as well), using one method that I used- that seemed most simple (I really try to simplify). So there was Alisha, who had my mother's last name, who was the average of all four names, who was the only one I asked to marry me, who said yes, who I changed my mind on.... At her, "ASK", then MASK. Katie was first, though, then Sara, then Alisha. Backmasking played, as well. But I'm sure there are other possibilities. It is probably all of them in one. Another sum for all four names is 227. This number is related to my mother, to me, as her birthday, 2/27, sticks out. Then 22/7 is an approximation of Pi. 227 is the sum where Z=26, and is not reduced to 8. I don't reduce fully (227 stays 227, though yes, it can also be 11, and 2). That feels too simple to me, though I might be missing something.
Total syllables in all four names is 23, full names, or was when I found the pattern, or knew them.
My first residence was at 908 Vine street. Factors of 908 can be 227x4. Four made 227, too. Vine can have a sum of 23, or 50.
The last relationship ended on 9/2/2006. It ended, from one point, 2300 days until 12/21/2012. Tool, a favorite band, released an album called 10,000 days, which was largely inspired by Maynard Keenan's mother. She lived on Maynard, in Columbus. The last song of the album was titled Viginti Tres, which is Twenty Three, 23 in Latin. I had an ear infection for a few weeks, surrounding the time when it came out.
Alisha before Marilyn was born on Valentines Day, February 14th, 1983.
You are built around me. Some of you, naturally, will be opposed. Thank magnet.
Marilyn had a lung collapse (air, breath, voice) and was hospitalized for that day, when we were together.
From ending with Marilyn, 888 days would pass until I would meet the next girl, Donna Price. I already thought I was Christ. She gave me a watch on the Christmas we spent together, and 161 weeks passed after that until I met Donna Price, from there (161 days pass completely in year before my birth-date). I pay for this. 203 weeks after the week Donna and I were present together was 12/21/2012, exactly, where I was paid 1221.52, exactly, for work- my highest sum yet. 203 days after my birth-date, end of year. (161, 0, 203, where 0 would be the birth-day, or with Donna, week we were together). Mirror. I'm not sure what I expect from you.
With Donna, I found a number of 113, come to me, by adding her name to the ones in MASK, numerically, corresponding with the same method that found the average of the four at 23 (with four coming to 92). 113 is referenced to sacrifice.
I had gone to see her on my 22nd birthday. I was on MDMA. Things didn't go like the dream I dreamed, prior. She was cold, to me, by the end of the night. Though, I can't blame her.
I walked around all night after that, having locked my keys in my car in a town hours away. Four hours, I guess. Until the locksmith opened. I carried around a book called "Sacred Mirrors", as I had had it out to share, and look at, and didn't have a place for it, my car being locked.
For the first time in a long time, I felt relief, after walking until the morning. Relief from the constant facial pain. I wouldn't find out why until many years later, when I discovered that food caused me pain, from food allergies, mainly to milk, at the time. I hadn't ate at that point since the day before. Milk, mother. Alisha, with my mother's maiden name. With a thickness.
I ended up going to stay at Craig and Devon's apartment- two of my friends from my home town, who had also gone to school there (I failed to mention some details: I met Alisha at college, four hours from home). The only two. And they both dated her after me, her for some reason going to them, after we broke up the first time.
Fuckers. J/K. I was never really mad. I was flattered. But confused. This girl had ran away from me. Shied away. I guess so had I.
I asked her to marry me, after my birthday. It was the following week, I think. I was on mushrooms- a the tail end of a good trip, sitting in my car. I recorded a few messages, settling on one, and deciding to have her receive it 6 months from that point, to give what had just happened, us splitting after my birthday, some time to level out. Date sent 12/21/2004. She said yes, with her emotions, but I let her go.
Then I dated Marilyn.
After Marilyn, I began to do the thing with numbers, and letters. I started seeing patterns in things. I felt that order was everywhere. I tested it many ways, and one of them was to take the names of my loves (or who I recognized as such, then), and that was Marilyn, Alisha, Sara, and Katie. Katie, as I spoke the name. Searching for patterns, I took the prominent, M, A, S, and K. MASK. This resonated. how my face hurt. How much I concealed.
Then I went into numbers, calculating name sums, and adding them together. The average sum was 23 for the names written as spoken (Katie never went by Kathryn, but that might reveal another mode of patterning, as well), using one method that I used- that seemed most simple (I really try to simplify). So there was Alisha, who had my mother's last name, who was the average of all four names, who was the only one I asked to marry me, who said yes, who I changed my mind on.... At her, "ASK", then MASK. Katie was first, though, then Sara, then Alisha. Backmasking played, as well. But I'm sure there are other possibilities. It is probably all of them in one. Another sum for all four names is 227. This number is related to my mother, to me, as her birthday, 2/27, sticks out. Then 22/7 is an approximation of Pi. 227 is the sum where Z=26, and is not reduced to 8. I don't reduce fully (227 stays 227, though yes, it can also be 11, and 2). That feels too simple to me, though I might be missing something.
Total syllables in all four names is 23, full names, or was when I found the pattern, or knew them.
My first residence was at 908 Vine street. Factors of 908 can be 227x4. Four made 227, too. Vine can have a sum of 23, or 50.
The last relationship ended on 9/2/2006. It ended, from one point, 2300 days until 12/21/2012. Tool, a favorite band, released an album called 10,000 days, which was largely inspired by Maynard Keenan's mother. She lived on Maynard, in Columbus. The last song of the album was titled Viginti Tres, which is Twenty Three, 23 in Latin. I had an ear infection for a few weeks, surrounding the time when it came out.
Alisha before Marilyn was born on Valentines Day, February 14th, 1983.
You are built around me. Some of you, naturally, will be opposed. Thank magnet.
Marilyn had a lung collapse (air, breath, voice) and was hospitalized for that day, when we were together.
From ending with Marilyn, 888 days would pass until I would meet the next girl, Donna Price. I already thought I was Christ. She gave me a watch on the Christmas we spent together, and 161 weeks passed after that until I met Donna Price, from there (161 days pass completely in year before my birth-date). I pay for this. 203 weeks after the week Donna and I were present together was 12/21/2012, exactly, where I was paid 1221.52, exactly, for work- my highest sum yet. 203 days after my birth-date, end of year. (161, 0, 203, where 0 would be the birth-day, or with Donna, week we were together). Mirror. I'm not sure what I expect from you.
With Donna, I found a number of 113, come to me, by adding her name to the ones in MASK, numerically, corresponding with the same method that found the average of the four at 23 (with four coming to 92). 113 is referenced to sacrifice.
My first big crush was on Paige. It went on from the time I saw her, around age 5, at my aunt and uncle's wedding when danced with her, as the adults put us together, and she ran away, saying she would be back, and she never came back... Until probably middle school. Maybe. Scott- my uncle who my dad's half-sister Jill married, I remember he asked me if I like top hats. That "Paige likes top hats".
I continued to look for her. She said she'd be back.
Then I looked for her at home, around town, at basketball and football games, occasionally spotting her sitting with her family, and looking on from afar. Little cute blond.
Her family owned a dance studio in town. Drum and dance lessons. Her grandpa was sort of big, I guess. Or he was, but his wife- her grandmother, was bigger, performing in New York back when, where the grandfather met her, and brought her home with him.
I forget what grade it was in... Maybe fifth- but my class, and some others from other schools went on a field trip to see the Harlem Boy's Choir, in Indianapolis. That was the next time I was near Paige, that close. I saw her on the bus. My friend Mike and I were sitting next to one another, just a seat or so up from her in the left row, and she on the right. I wanted her attention, so I started slapping myself, like the guy in Innerspace- The movie, did. Mike followed me, doing the same thing. Then I started to slam my head into the window, saying "brain dammmagee" over, and over again. Mike again did the same thing.
This did get her attention. I caught her smiling at me.
When we got to the place where the concert was, our group was placed up in the balcony seating. Mike and I sat next to each other. He sat first, and then after me, there was one seat left, and Paige sat there, placed there by a teacher.
I'm not sure if I said anything to her. I may have smiled. Said hi. Might have relaxed a little, in my tension, to be around her. During intermission, we talked. Mike her and myself. I went to the bathroom, then after I did, she did, and Mike and I both talked about her, probably red in the face, excited to be sharing time with this girl. I threw her on him. "Go for it dude". And he put her back to me, saying that she liked me more. That, I think, she asked about me when I was away. And she paid more attention to me, when I was around, which was surprising to me, as I considered Michael to be more attractive.
We were young, and went to different schools. She was a grade ahead. I continued to look for her, after this, but by the time I would be under my own power, anyways, she had moved away. Though she did date a friend of mine for a second, as they were associated, though his sister, and her sister.
Now I am friends with her cousin, Melissa. We began to be friends back in High School, over 12 years ago, or so, in Speech class. Years later, when I became intimately involved with her after she was having trouble with her future husband (and ex husband now), I had started to see the number, 23, with more frequency, in my life, around the time that I knew her then, I think. Though, it came before. Her, and Alisha (A=1, L=12, 1+2=3, L=3, I=9, S=19, 1+9=10, 1+0=1, S=1, H=8, A=1-- A+L+I+S+H+A=23... Though I didn't know it back then). I gave Melissa a book that had stuff about it (23) in it, right before I broke down- right before I went into a period of chronic pain in my life that has been somewhat relentless, though with periods of relief I guess, since. Pain, and discomfort that has been localized to my mouth/jaw, and face, that began at Alisha's house, from what I remember. I was with Alisha in heart, still, and still talking to her, when I was also involved with Melissa. Melissa's future husband/future ex-husband then threatened to write my mother a letter about the nasty things I did to Melissa in her- my mother's bedroom, and give her this letter, in church. At this point, there was so much drama around it, with him threatening me constantly, and my heart wasn't really in it for more than sexual pleasures, anyways... So I backed off, not wanting or needing any more drama. But that's when I went to hell. Not that I didn't get a taste prior. Alisha had my mother's maiden name, Finch, and her future husband reinforced "23", giving her a last name with this sum, Darr (D+A+R+R as D=4, A=5, R=18, 1+8=9, R=9).
I continued to look for her. She said she'd be back.
Then I looked for her at home, around town, at basketball and football games, occasionally spotting her sitting with her family, and looking on from afar. Little cute blond.
Her family owned a dance studio in town. Drum and dance lessons. Her grandpa was sort of big, I guess. Or he was, but his wife- her grandmother, was bigger, performing in New York back when, where the grandfather met her, and brought her home with him.
I forget what grade it was in... Maybe fifth- but my class, and some others from other schools went on a field trip to see the Harlem Boy's Choir, in Indianapolis. That was the next time I was near Paige, that close. I saw her on the bus. My friend Mike and I were sitting next to one another, just a seat or so up from her in the left row, and she on the right. I wanted her attention, so I started slapping myself, like the guy in Innerspace- The movie, did. Mike followed me, doing the same thing. Then I started to slam my head into the window, saying "brain dammmagee" over, and over again. Mike again did the same thing.
This did get her attention. I caught her smiling at me.
When we got to the place where the concert was, our group was placed up in the balcony seating. Mike and I sat next to each other. He sat first, and then after me, there was one seat left, and Paige sat there, placed there by a teacher.
I'm not sure if I said anything to her. I may have smiled. Said hi. Might have relaxed a little, in my tension, to be around her. During intermission, we talked. Mike her and myself. I went to the bathroom, then after I did, she did, and Mike and I both talked about her, probably red in the face, excited to be sharing time with this girl. I threw her on him. "Go for it dude". And he put her back to me, saying that she liked me more. That, I think, she asked about me when I was away. And she paid more attention to me, when I was around, which was surprising to me, as I considered Michael to be more attractive.
We were young, and went to different schools. She was a grade ahead. I continued to look for her, after this, but by the time I would be under my own power, anyways, she had moved away. Though she did date a friend of mine for a second, as they were associated, though his sister, and her sister.
Now I am friends with her cousin, Melissa. We began to be friends back in High School, over 12 years ago, or so, in Speech class. Years later, when I became intimately involved with her after she was having trouble with her future husband (and ex husband now), I had started to see the number, 23, with more frequency, in my life, around the time that I knew her then, I think. Though, it came before. Her, and Alisha (A=1, L=12, 1+2=3, L=3, I=9, S=19, 1+9=10, 1+0=1, S=1, H=8, A=1-- A+L+I+S+H+A=23... Though I didn't know it back then). I gave Melissa a book that had stuff about it (23) in it, right before I broke down- right before I went into a period of chronic pain in my life that has been somewhat relentless, though with periods of relief I guess, since. Pain, and discomfort that has been localized to my mouth/jaw, and face, that began at Alisha's house, from what I remember. I was with Alisha in heart, still, and still talking to her, when I was also involved with Melissa. Melissa's future husband/future ex-husband then threatened to write my mother a letter about the nasty things I did to Melissa in her- my mother's bedroom, and give her this letter, in church. At this point, there was so much drama around it, with him threatening me constantly, and my heart wasn't really in it for more than sexual pleasures, anyways... So I backed off, not wanting or needing any more drama. But that's when I went to hell. Not that I didn't get a taste prior. Alisha had my mother's maiden name, Finch, and her future husband reinforced "23", giving her a last name with this sum, Darr (D+A+R+R as D=4, A=5, R=18, 1+8=9, R=9).
Can u get some phenibut or picamilon, even Chamomile and lemon balm tea, Valerian! Phenibut isnt a good one to take often, a cobo of the rest safe and effective Ive found - Though I've been truly hooked on Gabaergics, no atter they will do there magic.
Hope things goup up : )
Hope things goup up : )
Hiya peeps,
ooooo my Race4life pack has come.
It is a 5k run, jog or walk for women, to raise funds for Cancer Research UK.
If anyone would like to sponsor me to help Cancer Research UK please go to:
http://www.justgiving.com/eveleivibe2014
Thanks
Evey
ooooo my Race4life pack has come.
It is a 5k run, jog or walk for women, to raise funds for Cancer Research UK.
If anyone would like to sponsor me to help Cancer Research UK please go to:
http://www.justgiving.com/eveleivibe2014
Thanks
Evey
I finally understood the meaning of some symbol. I'm going to find it later and post it.
It occurred in my dream last night.
In it I remember my dad becoming angry with a kid- a guy, who lived near him, where we used to live in Hanson Meadows, or it seemed like it was there. The guy was a dumbass. He fired some kind of artillery round, and it landed near my dad, in his driveway, only 15 feet away or so. He told me, and we were both kind of laughing about it, but at the same time, pissed. It didn't explode, for detail, it just seemed to poke a hole in the ground, about an inch big.
I already know I'm missing a large part of the details.
My dad was an artillery guy in the U.S. part of the conflict in Vietnam, in the 60s. An officer. He flew observation. Or he was the eyes in the sky. Once, his calculations resulted in the death of a Holy Cow, of one of the animistic tribes around there, near Cambodia, I think. He was then required to appease them, to keep relations positive, by attending a ceremony where they ate the cow, and he was decorated by the people, and was central to the ceremony. He wasn't "punished", but this was the way they did it.
But he pointed this guy out. Where he lived. I wanted to say something to this guy... To try to beat it into him that that round could have landed on anyone. A child. Through their heads. I pointed out a little girl, who was a little boy, who was Black, but became a tan, then paler White, little girl. "You could have killed that little girl, and or that little girl, or that person. Do you get it? Do you understand? Find a field, an open field- a large open field, and then use it, if you want." I was kind of laughing when I was telling him this, my father right beside me, to my left. But I was serious.
Just prior, or perhaps somehow during, I told my father that I could order a hit on the guy... That I knew someone who would take him out, if I just asked. This was the truth, however inflated. I have a guy who has vowed to protect me, if I ask for it.
My dad starts handing me money, while the guy is there- the guy who fired the shot that landed in my dad's drive way. Handed me a 20, then a 10, and seemed like he would keep going, but I stopped him, and wanted to give the guy another chance.
Then I remember he was riding a motorcycle- this guy, and was reckless. He was driving it through a building. Through a hospital it seemed. It looked like a banquet hall/convention center hall, but also a hospital. Just ran through people. Here, I said, "We need to kill him", and there was laughter. But also, I was very serious, and I think we may have then hunted him down.
I remember in that scene many people crowded together, chasing him, each with various things that looked like weapons. But they weren't really weapons like they looked like. Shaped like guns, I think. Some of them. One woman actually did seem to have a gun.
Lots I don't remember. Wish I could remember all of dreams.
I was in a baseball game. I remember, at times, pitching. And sometimes I was the catcher. It was very close. Like, the pitcher was only 10, and 15 feet away from the batter/catcher. Bases were proportionate to that. It didn't seem like a serious game, but I don't know. I only remember playing those two positions, and not taking it seriously.
Mike- my friend, seemed to live across the street. In life, in the neighborhood I grew up in, he lived behind.
As for the snake symbol, I seem to be having difficulty finding it. I would maybe have to draw it, but I wouldn't know where to begin. Here are some that look similar.
These aren't doing it justice, and might be of other meaning. I might try to draw it later and take a picture of it. But the basic idea was that where-ever the snake turned/curved, and in completion enveloped/encapsuled/"encircled", there was a dot, or circle there with some design there, and that dot represented a point- That of a person, place, thing, thought, feeling, anything in the associative network. And it went around them all, aware of them, connected to them. All one. It was beautifully formed. The dots contained in the symbol, which the snake made up, were the connected everything, through it's eyes/consciousness. It was a symbol which to me described synchronicity. The last one, above, seems to be compatible.
Here's another(s):
Blogs only allow four images, but this is another:
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ5x_di_ke3-WgnLFgGP1vL1-VpGxbNX0c-jBoOKCMgIarhY1ss
I keep on wanting to say that it was just one snake, though. Lots I see seem to have two.
It occurred in my dream last night.
In it I remember my dad becoming angry with a kid- a guy, who lived near him, where we used to live in Hanson Meadows, or it seemed like it was there. The guy was a dumbass. He fired some kind of artillery round, and it landed near my dad, in his driveway, only 15 feet away or so. He told me, and we were both kind of laughing about it, but at the same time, pissed. It didn't explode, for detail, it just seemed to poke a hole in the ground, about an inch big.
I already know I'm missing a large part of the details.
My dad was an artillery guy in the U.S. part of the conflict in Vietnam, in the 60s. An officer. He flew observation. Or he was the eyes in the sky. Once, his calculations resulted in the death of a Holy Cow, of one of the animistic tribes around there, near Cambodia, I think. He was then required to appease them, to keep relations positive, by attending a ceremony where they ate the cow, and he was decorated by the people, and was central to the ceremony. He wasn't "punished", but this was the way they did it.
But he pointed this guy out. Where he lived. I wanted to say something to this guy... To try to beat it into him that that round could have landed on anyone. A child. Through their heads. I pointed out a little girl, who was a little boy, who was Black, but became a tan, then paler White, little girl. "You could have killed that little girl, and or that little girl, or that person. Do you get it? Do you understand? Find a field, an open field- a large open field, and then use it, if you want." I was kind of laughing when I was telling him this, my father right beside me, to my left. But I was serious.
Just prior, or perhaps somehow during, I told my father that I could order a hit on the guy... That I knew someone who would take him out, if I just asked. This was the truth, however inflated. I have a guy who has vowed to protect me, if I ask for it.
My dad starts handing me money, while the guy is there- the guy who fired the shot that landed in my dad's drive way. Handed me a 20, then a 10, and seemed like he would keep going, but I stopped him, and wanted to give the guy another chance.
Then I remember he was riding a motorcycle- this guy, and was reckless. He was driving it through a building. Through a hospital it seemed. It looked like a banquet hall/convention center hall, but also a hospital. Just ran through people. Here, I said, "We need to kill him", and there was laughter. But also, I was very serious, and I think we may have then hunted him down.
I remember in that scene many people crowded together, chasing him, each with various things that looked like weapons. But they weren't really weapons like they looked like. Shaped like guns, I think. Some of them. One woman actually did seem to have a gun.
Lots I don't remember. Wish I could remember all of dreams.
I was in a baseball game. I remember, at times, pitching. And sometimes I was the catcher. It was very close. Like, the pitcher was only 10, and 15 feet away from the batter/catcher. Bases were proportionate to that. It didn't seem like a serious game, but I don't know. I only remember playing those two positions, and not taking it seriously.
Mike- my friend, seemed to live across the street. In life, in the neighborhood I grew up in, he lived behind.
As for the snake symbol, I seem to be having difficulty finding it. I would maybe have to draw it, but I wouldn't know where to begin. Here are some that look similar.
These aren't doing it justice, and might be of other meaning. I might try to draw it later and take a picture of it. But the basic idea was that where-ever the snake turned/curved, and in completion enveloped/encapsuled/"encircled", there was a dot, or circle there with some design there, and that dot represented a point- That of a person, place, thing, thought, feeling, anything in the associative network. And it went around them all, aware of them, connected to them. All one. It was beautifully formed. The dots contained in the symbol, which the snake made up, were the connected everything, through it's eyes/consciousness. It was a symbol which to me described synchronicity. The last one, above, seems to be compatible.
Here's another(s):
Blogs only allow four images, but this is another:
https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQ5x_di_ke3-WgnLFgGP1vL1-VpGxbNX0c-jBoOKCMgIarhY1ss
I keep on wanting to say that it was just one snake, though. Lots I see seem to have two.
long story short. i feel homicidal/suicidal (not so much though). been drinking heavy, stopped my bi-polar meds, been dealing with an ex and our dying dog. I watch the dog 3-5 days a week, thats cool its at her house. but she only calls when she needs something. Ok fine. I return the calls. But nearly everytime i call/text her, for anything no reply. I HATE that. We are fuking again and that could very well be my problem. I'm feeling used, hurt, confused?? Man up?? I would but that dog is my bro and I dont wanna lose access to him. WTF am I going thru??