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It's been close to a year since I stopped using.

I'm finally starting to feel better.

My energy is coming up. My mood is coming up.

Something is definitely happening to me.

I hardly recognize some of the things I have written. I don't know what happened to me... why did I have to use?

In honest reflection after all these months have passed, I'm baffled.

What was that all about, for fucks sake?

I put a torch to my whole life. I struggled through college after my kids got in school. After I finished my degree and my post graduate work, I found a great job with good pay. I was on my way up.

I self destructed though. It all came crashing down around me because of me. Why did I do that? Why didn't I just do like I did through college? I kept my nose to the grindstone. I worked hard. I was doing great. Everything was going perfectly.

I am a fucking idiot. But I'm a sober.

I should have just stayed sober to begin with.

But I couldn't. I couldn't.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, I blew it.

Fuck.
It's been 2 days since I've seen my wife... we spend every day together.. we're inseparable. Well I guess we were.. she hasn't called/texted me she deleted me on facebook blocked me and I don't know what she's doing... I wish I wouldnt have googled her name and went to her FB because all I saw were selfies and guys hitting on her.. I know she's deceiving me somehow.. which she vowed not to do.. I wish I could find out she wasn't doing anything but my gut tells me different... I love this woman so fucking much I wish she would just stop this bullshit and come home but I know we are beyond that.. here starts the healing process.. god give me strength to not do anything stupid.. I love you so much my beautiful wife..
I don’t normally follow the news coverage of celebrity tripe or the tragedies that happen to random people. The first are vapid, the second are usually only given national-level attention by the media if they are uber-disturbing. But I was bored to death at work this week. Here’s two stories that definitely fit that bill but share a common theme.

I have no idea if the “affluenza” kid who stole beer from Wal-mart, got in his truck and killed 4 people was actually raised in an environment which condones this sort of thing or if he was just young and stupid. What I do know is that there is such a thing as spoiled rotten. Paris Hilton. Nicole Richie. Justin Bieber. Pick your favorite rock star. The list is endless. I went to college in Texas with a bunch of oil-money brats out of Houston and Dallas who acted the same way.

What I will charitably call the other end of the spectrum has been shooting off more than just their shotguns this week. In an interview with GQ magazine, Duck Dynasty’s Phil Robertson compared Muslims to Nazis, gay sex to bestiality and that pre-Civil rights era blacks were perfectly happy (I wonder what he thinks about us here at Bluelight?) My point is not that these remarks are obscene (which they are) but that after you found out who said them it feels far less scandalous. We’re like, oh yeah, I’ll bet he said that. A religious hillbilly gun nut who is bigoted isn’t exactly earth-shattering news.

The world is full of people who are self-absorbed, narcissistic or simply prefer to live behind walls that insulate them from reality. My mother does the same thing through her religious devotion and mistakes it for piety. “Affluenza” and Duck Dynasty are simply different symptoms of the same disease although I don't know what the hell to call it. Maybe it's just plain old, garden-variety vanity.
I've got 4 months clean. If I weren't clean, I doubt I'd of been able to be there for my friends & I would have missed out. My friend I've known since 9th grade, Mike's dad Tom died. I have a history with them since 1980 as well as my 5 other friends who showed up from way back in the day. It was kind of sad, but the gathering was healing and loving so I'm very grateful for that. Time is a strange illusion, I mean it doesn't seem like all these years have passed since 1980. Peace out.
The funny thing about truly observing yourself is finding clarity.

I am not the friendly, kind and calm person you all think I an. This was just a drug induced state of mine.

Abstaining from drugs the past 16 hours showed me who I am. A fucking degenerate hypocrite who's easily irritated. Random outbursts of anger, depression and unease now consume me.

Even laughter has lost its optimistic alure, it just feels different. Arriving randomly through out my life with no rational explanation outside mania.

Perhaps it is rational. My life is a joke, I'm a joke.

How long can I stay sober?
I find myself on an abondoned pier, with an eerie and confusion aura. Why am I here?

Words flood out my mouth "this is where the boat I was talking to you about would port, no children were reported to have returned from this voyage. Crazy huh?"

The one I'm talking to is staring at a memorial completely unresponsive and indulged elsewhere.

I turn around and see a dark figure. A once deserted and fogged scene is now clear and full of pressence. Ghosts boarding a frightful ship, the dark figure approaches me. It whispers something in my ear and I suddently wake up.

Heart rapidly beating out of my chest, sweat pouring out of me and thoughts consumed of despair.

Fear and anxiety now inhibit my world.

As I race to the kitchen to quench my thirst I hear a melodic nursery rhyme.

After I return to my bed the toon seized and I forget every single lyric.

The one I was with was me, my positive essence. He was ignoring me because I portrayed a negative and dark figure.

The unknown creature I saw was my clarity, showing me that evil thoughts and mind sets only lead to terrible destinations. Dark places where you never die, only suffer.

I have never felt such an urge to experience life, to live.

A nightmare? I think not. More like a dream I was far too naive to have embellish my conquest.

My new found journey of expressing optimism.
so, the last time I OD'd I was at a friends house and was picked up from there and brought to ER. that day he kinda stopped his habit too considering he almost saw one of his best friends die. he ended up going to the clinic to start the SHOT rather than subox or methadone. anyway, we've kept in touch over the last 4 months of being clean.

so for the past 2 weeks he's been MIA. and then I'd get a text saying he's busy or call you later, blah blah. so finally I get the text/call tonight saying he just stepped out of rehab and he slipped up and had to go back; he picked up a benzo/opiate addiction and was lying about sobriety etc.

makes me sick he did that but its the user mind and TRUST ME I know how it works. I talked to him and said he could come to me and I could help him in all the best ways possible. by no means have I been SOBER FOREVER but since its a long term friend I am sure we can game plan and figure something out w him. I would love to help him and make him into the BETTER person he deserves to be.

what do you all think? do I have enough in me?
JESUS H CHRIST (sorry, Jesus). Why on earth do I keep having tattos??? My arm is burning n wow did it hurt while being done. I'm so sensitive to pain now. I used to have laser treatment etc - felt like fat splashing me but wasn't that bad. But this sleeve I'm having hurts n it's flaming torture honest to God.

Have I gone really sensitive to pain after all those years of taking 700-800mg codeine or am I imagining it????! I was planning on having a good many more tattoos though it's draining my bank balance. Im still on this Herbalife but crikey I feel tired today n I've got to force myself to exercise later so I don't have a bum the size of planet Earth. I am doing some workout called Brazilian Buttlift. The ladies on the dvd are all lovely n tanned good.

I've been going on the sunbed but only for 3mins then other day I got tokin for 6 minutes but went on for 4 1/2 minutes as was scared of burning but next time I'm going to go 6 minutes n yes I cover my tattoo n that's a fun job I can tell you haha. I want to be brown for Christmas.

Right off to dye my hair again - I'm back to pink ontop n blue underneath. I tried it with red to be festive for Christmas holidays but I got bored. Right time to stop sitting down to energise myself or thry 'll be no burning today - just a load of nodding n sleeping blah... I wish I could remember the ace feeling of feeling energised with natural endorphins.

Cheeerio!

Evey :) xxxx
Just sittin here chillin before bed. I'm constantly keeping up on my spiritual studies and readings. There is an excellent book called "The Disappearance of the Universe" by Gary Renard that explains why we are here, and quantum physics has said the same thing in scientific language. I actually was able to sit down and have a conversation with Mom about this. "Mom you know the moon is beautiful tonight! Did you know that as I was beholding it's beauty all the way from here that I was changing it on a subatomic level just by observing it!"

Some of you know this is true. Quantum physics explains that our universe is created by thought. Christian Science teaches that matter is unreality, as does metaphysics. My experience is showing me that this is true, but the peace of mind I've gained is a beneficial effect gained from these spiritual disciplines. NA doesn't go into any of that, but the spiritual principals it teaches are the same. If you're curious you can look up the Disappearance book online to get an idea of what I'm talking about. I tell you this even though I thought it was pretty far out after the first time I read it, I had to admit it sure does explain a whole hell of a lot.

Anyway, I'm certainly not saying life is all of a sudden easy or anything, but I have a strength beyond me to live it every day and then sometimes I'm rewarded with glimpses of what Jesus referred to as The Kingdom of God, that it is within not without or pure non dualism. Anyway thanks you guys for the kind comments in my last two journal entries. Peace and love to all.
Well had some of my sleeve done other day so four days with clingfilm on (apart from to clean them which I do with baby wipes should see all the blood n dirt coming off). Having some butterflies on tomorrow the sleeve is coming along good. I love tattoos n yes I am female think I'm addicted to having them. Still I'll draw the line after Tuesday. Three n half hours on Thursday n after two hours tomorrow. I've got my Emla cream because I can't stand pain since I gave up codeine so I'm now sensitive to pain lol). So I'll stick on the emla cream n then relax n enjoy having this tattoo sorted with. This having a good pampering with when I felt like complete c***.
Things have come to light but I realised that I wronged a certain person very much. I don't know if it could ever be put right but I know that I have made one hell of a huge mistake to someone who had been a great support to me with getting into treatment n so much n we let people play us :(
I sent this person an E-mail saying sorry but it's not enough. I'm going to let things go n thank God that at last I know the truth.
Trouble is I was so hurt n angry I said some truly wicked stuff to this person that I am EXTREMELY ashamed of.

I am so extremely greatful to Bluelight. This site has been good to me. No drama n full of supportive people. I've been here almost four months now n during that time I've stopped drinking, gone to 12mg sub, started making plans n have goals to aim for. In 2014 I will taper off suboxone. It is time to.

I am so terribly sorry that I had it so wrong with a certain person n have lost that friendship for good but that's life n I hope she's happy where-ever she is. I was gillable n stupid to think certain people were friends n they never were. I let people make fun of me, humiliate me but that was me in self-destruct n I will not let it happen again.

Onwards n forwards - n I know that God is with me n will guide me showing the way as long as I don't choose addiction over him again. I've been a complete idiot believing people cared, trying to contact them when they were laughing n mocking me but that's ok. It hurt like hell but hay ho - the best form of revenge is to be happy, get on with my life, move forward, make amends for bad deeds n hold my hand out to my responsibilities n keep walking.....

Feeling a bit down over crap but that will pass.... It will all pass n life will be better again. I am exercising, losing weight, joining groups, going on the sunbeds n having my sleeve done so all is ok n God has answered my prayers.

Please take care n those of you fighting addictions you can do it those of you jump meth / sub you are inspirations I truly mean that.
Evey :)
feeling really quite awful right now. i took the last step off the ledge in my seemingly endless ssri taper, and i officially have been off ssris for about a month now. holy anxiety batman. it seems my symptoms have been growing exponentially every day. the first week or so were actually totally fine and i noticed myself feeling slightly more anxious and being a bit more ocd, but this last week has been a fucking NIGHTMARE and a half. i have not slept in 3 days. i lay down in bed, exhausted, and I toss and turn around, getting beat up by worry and a huge pit in my stomach. i know all the coping mechanisms to get through stuff like this, breathing, meditation, positive thinking, etc. but when im in it like this, its like fucking impossible. i feel like im lost in an endless abyss of fear that wont quit. and my body just does crazy shit that I cant turn off... like my hands and feet and face go numb like pins and needles, I get heart palpitations, I get dizzy. All the time, seemingly for no reason. Like nothing triggers it, this shit just randomly happens.

Ive spent the better part of the last month planning and preparing to throw my boyfriend a surprise 30th birthday party. it was last night. i would say it was a success, but I wasn't really able to enjoy myself because of this overwhelming, crushing feeling that somethings WRONG, something is TERRIBLY WRONG but i dont know what, I just get this sense of impending doom. and of course i worry about everything so much that it is literally killing me. i worry that I bought too much food for the party, and now people think I'm crazy or silly or stupid or fat or gluttonous. Even though I barely ate at the party because my stomach was a huge knot. I worry that I said the wrong thing and people dont like me. I got super drunk at the party, not sure why, probably to quiet the demons if only for a few hours. but then the party ended, everyone went home, and here I sit, wide awake, my hands and feet are numb and tingly, i cant stop crying, i feel like total shit physically and mentally right now. i finally gave in and popped an ativan, but i know its not strong enough to knock me out like i want it to. i dont want to take drugs anymore. well except smoking weed. although i cant even tell if that is helpful or harmful anymore. i just know its something i enjoy doing. so im gonna keep doing it. would smoke a bowl right now to help me fall asleep but my mouth is all fucking chapped and my tongue is all sore from being dehydrated and i just cant bear the thought of smoke entering my mouth right now. theres a hash brownie in the freezer but im afraid to eat it cuz I dont want to be TOO high. worry worry worry. ugh.

please just let this pass me by. i know i need to be proactive in healing myself. thats one thing ive learned over the past year. that telling myself "I have anxiety" isn't a good idea because I'm just identifying with it and subconsciously I start to believe I will never be free of it. I can't say Ive done anything proactive about healing my anxiety and ocd since I got off my meds, Ive pretty much just been suffering through it day by day and now im starting to really lose it after not sleeping for 3 days. i feel like a fucking deranged zombie right now. i want to get up and go do shit in my house but there are other people sleeping i dont want to wake up. i just had to write this so i could get some kind of relief. hah. :|
I'm a 30-year-old recovering heroin addict living with her parents, working a minimum wage job. However, I've recently gone on suboxone, my car insurance has gone down, and my state's minimum wage is going up very soon. I've done the math and I'll finally be able to move out probably by late spring/early summer if I stay clean and put the money I save toward possible first/last/security, which is the most expensive scenario.
Pretty mundane blog post, but I wanted to get it out, since I'm pretty jazzed.
waking up this morning and seeing 6-12 inches of snow of the ground brought a smile to my face FOR ONCE. sure, I still have to shovel and clean the car and whatnot, but what I dont have to do is HUSTLE ALL DAY trying to score on a shitty day like today. simple things like this make me happy that I am so clean. imagine? I am HAPPY that I do not have to drive in the snow to go meet just to score; sometimes my "guys" would not want to leave the house, other times they'd wake up late and yet to plow out to meet. it was never an easy thing and always drove me absolutely crazy. at this time last year I was always still recovering from brain surgery/cancer and just USING ALOT!

who would have thought things would change so much over the course of a year? not me.

I am very grateful. I EVEN have weed to chill out today and just relax in this snow storm. oh what a beautiful day ahead, for once.
Eyes Suffer Chains, The Lines of Demarcation an Evacuation in Sight. Alright. Comes Sashaying Sunlight.

Here I am. I tip-toe around life. Dodging eggshells and piles, mounds, mountains of mail. Return to sender, I but trying. No self, intention is not action.
I have moved. My mind to another space. And here I am. I do see, now, I lack rigid shape. That is OK. I see, now, thresholds are where I keep. Half in, half way... poof, so long. The ever-elastic soul. I am, not your figmented fragments of presumed imagination.
The many ripples, shimmers, shades, shatters: a dangerous reflection. A mirror mind of corrupt illustration.
So pious, noble, knowing glance cold. A simulacrum of prevarication.
I am this thing, being, something with feeling.

A mind, a thought, and smile I took. A file, a label: thousands of bills from shallow forsakers. My earth is a bounty of simple surrender. I am, I see, through the looking glass: breathing supple, sweet, sumptuous satisfaction.
Such a beautiful mess of me. My chaos like honey: arpeggio of harmony. I am
A heart, a slope, an intercept. An enduring shape, reject conform, perpetuating form.

Such peaces of everything, everywhere, a tide, a swirl, a spin, a whirlwind -- stuttering paper cranes.
Drifting among you. Inanimate intimacies, stammering wings of exquisite reminisce nostalgic soirée. A glorious remise of regal designed resign moldings from hands without articulation, be all defy circumscription.
so, last 2 days I have been using 8MG and I've felt fine. I was coming from 12MG previous and 16MG prior to that. at the start of it all I was on 24MG but that only for a week before the drop to 16MG came into play.

hoping these 8MG's hold on and play out. I'd LOVE to keep dropping but last thing i want is to get that urge and craving again. so lets hope all goes well.

just a quick update.
What is up bluelight? Well I am happy to say that I have moved out of my parents house again. I am renting a room with a good friend who has a nice house real clos to my job. Its a sweet deal too. Meanwhile the family drama continues. Mom went through my shit back at the house and found my stash of used needles I hadn't gotten around to trashing yet. There where probably 150 needles in the gallon size zip lock bag. Now she is all pissed and she gets so angry over this shit. While I am just over it. We have argued over it so many times that I just have no more words to spend on it. She will never understand and even if she could I never explain. How do you explain Pandora to someone outside the box?

They act like I should be really sorry and beg for forgiveness. For what? Having a drug problem? Sorry I said it once I said it a 10000000 times. Ill never understand what she thinks being a bitch to me is going to accomplish? She gets all sarcastic and tells me I cant quit and all this other bullshit. Well I am quitting because the relapse ran its course. I get bored with heroin after a month or four. And I am bored with it now. I have been clean on just suboxone for the last week and I feel great not a single honest craving.

I am going to be ok despite what people may say. I believe it so it doesn't even matter. Goodnight friends!
dig the knife in as deep as it goes and then just give it one more push. twist it in my back and bury lies upon lies. the last time that i swallow the hook. let the blood flow and drink my soul. take it all til theres nothing left of me. devour me whole. is it just as sick as it always was? just too blind to see the lust? never let your guard down , not even for a second. once you do your whole world views affected. you hand me the razor and i do the work for you. gouging out your name from chunks of my skin. and i just keep letting you push it farther in.

what does it mean when the cozy haze of ignorance is gone. was it ever really real or was i wrong. how do you live knowing the truth when you face me everyday? the soul reflections dirty and unclear. i dont know what im doing here. the sweet sticky drip dries to flaky ragged crust. its the only thing left i can trust.
I am two people.

I am Facebook me, and I am Bluelight me.

In Facebook, I play games and talk to my kids. I post pics of my grandkids, my animals, awesome food I make, gorgeous sunrises, all the stuff that is close to me but outside of me.

In Bluelight, I discuss my fears. I read people's posts about the drugs I liked, the sex I liked, the depression I know too intimately, and the losses I feel personally. BL hosts my inner landscape.

In Facebook, my friends who have passed away have had all their Facebooks become memorials. Friends and loved ones post their grief on the dead person's wall. It is a huge deal. As I have mentioned before, I don't have very many fb friends. I used to have more... and every single one of the friends I had who died became fb pain for me. I mean, to see that face show up in my newsfeed because of an automatic game invite or some shit...

FB will become a memorial for everyone who has a FB account. Eventually my own wall will have posts of grief from those closest to me. I'm sorry to know that my own fb pic will make certain people cry when they see it after I am gone.

In Bluelight, some members have a thread announcing their passing. I don't know anyone here. I have met a few BL people but I'm sober. (I can't even smoke weed anymore because I am broke. I rarely go in the cannabis thread anyway because I thought the moderater sucked. Maybe it's different now.) I don't talk to the people I did drugs with except for one single human being... the person who told me about BL. It's highly unlikely that he nor anyone on BL will know when I am gone, or care. Probably most of the BL members who pass on are just gone and we might notice someone does not post anymore... but that's all.

When I look at my FB friend list, I see people I know and love.

When I look at my BL friend list, I see people who know stuff about me that I never ever want my FB people to know about me.

I have always been two people though. I have always kept a journal. Always. But that shit is private. My first diary is almost 50 years old and has a tiny lock on it. I knew when I made my first entry that I was two people. I was an only child my first 9 years and I had a lot of alone time so I wrote because there was no one to talk to. Pretty soon I realized that I wrote things I could not say.

All that has led to this. My FB me and my BL me. My FB me is my public self, my family self, my socially awkward but well meaning self. My BL self is a continuation of the little locked diary...

to be continued.
I ran into this chick I used to party with at the needle exchange downtown..she's this model bitch with a blinding affinity for shooting coke. She was sleeping at my place one night a few years ago..and I found her in the middle of the night outside digging her finger nails into the sidewalk screaming about how much she hated her father... Yeah, that kind of chick. Anyway, she was looking haggard..that's the thing about the model types. They're already skinny as shit so a few months on the needle and they look like the crypt keepers uglier female cousin... Her voice was all raspy and shit— as if she'd swallowed sand paper. I tried to ignore her..just pick up my works and be gone, but she followed me to the end of the block asking if I had a place to go and get high, blah, blah, blah.. apparently her modeling days of picking up checks for ten grand were over. Now she's just a street urchin. Needless to say.. I passed.
ugh. will be seeing my Subox Dr. on Tuesday at 1PM and then my brain tumor Dr. on Wednesday at 2PM. that will be a long day at Mass General Hospital, ugh! whatever tho, it has to happen for me to get better in ALL ALWAYS! it's just such a long day there. also, I usually have to do a class on Wednesday for Subox but since it's been 3 months I no longer have to attend the classes.

I will be also be picking up a few benzo's from a friend this week; although I am "clean" I still get benzo's here and there. They have always helped me greatly w/ anxiety but my script was cut once I openly admitted to be an addict. I could see if they cut the script by the total pill count but they cut the script as a whole. oh well. now I just pick up a few pieces of a month on the street. no more 90 .5MG xanny for $15. now it's about 10 10MG Valium for $20. doesnt seem as good, huh? well, I dont need them to abuse I just use to kill any anxious time I may have. they sure do help but HATE having to buy them from the street since I am staying away from all that. luckily, it's not the same person as my dope man and it's also someone who has been staying away from the dope but happens be be scripted benzos.

well, just wanted to get on here and complain a bit about the week ahead. I am laying here watching Sunday night Football after smoking a small bowl and thinking of a busy week ahead. ugh. good part is there will be NO HEROIN involved and I will save 100's and 100's of dollars. crazy that I ever did that before.
I just got an email from a lab head asking me to work for her. The project is interesting. It uses stem cells and a synthetic mesh or scaffold to try to grow living retinas taht would ultimately be transplanted into the eyes of blind people with the aim of restoring vision. One of the problems is to get the cells to differentiate into neurons taht can form functional circuity that can interface with photoreceptors, either human or silicon, and from there process the information and then to send meaningful nerve impulses to the optic nerve. The first goal is to get a prep that responds to light stimulation with enough resolution taht it can identity the stimulus. For example, it should be able to "see" well enough to recognize objects and to read very large print or signs. The next goal would be to successfully transplant the stem-cell derived prep into a human eye. The deal breaker though is that the lab is part of an organization close Irvine, California. Briefly, Irvine, and almost all of southern California, is the opposite of what I would consider an ideal place to live in. It embodies many of the things I hate about America -- sprawl, car-culture, conspicuous mass consumption, racial segregation (no blacks in Irvine), and I think is the capital of Tits and Noses. Southern California ranks among the top regions in the country where the most frivolous plastic surgery is performed. And the Republican Party was founded there. A few years ago, I had a job offer to work for a biotech company down there that paid twice as much, but within an hour of getting off the plane at the "John Wayne International Airport," I had been driven into such a deep state of despair by that city experience (including its inhabitants) that I was near suicidal.

Not long before that trip, I had read Hunter Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Until then, I had wondered what he meant by "fear and loathing." Did it have something to do with his claimed drug bender in Las Vegas? (I could write pages debunking that one. For example, adrenochrome is not extracted from the adrenal glands of dying people but is merely common adrenaline carried by physicians that has been exposed to oxygen and thus oxidized and turned a reddish color. Contrary to Thompson's claim, the rush is much like adrenaline and is neither euphoric nor hallucinogenic. As far as huffing ether, it would be really hard to do it in public. It's extremely volatile and stinks too much. People would notice and call the cops.) Or was it a deeper commentary on something that's wrong with Las Vegas? In Irvine, I realized the answer. That term is Thompson's commentary on the descent of American society into moral and intellectual degeneracy and hypocritical hedonism, largely due to the greed-driven leadership of those who hold power in America: national and local politicians, military and law enforcement officials, and the heads of corporate and banking enterprises-- and the complacent populace.

The sun sets before 4 and rises after 7. That leaves 13 hours of night. The solar power generation system is so inefficient that I can run an electric light for only about an hour each night. (I don't own the system, and I didn't build it. If I had, it would be able to power a laptop and lights 24/7. The old man who owns it jury-rigged it from the cheapest components he could find in random mail order catalogs. On top of that, he's barely literate, ignorant, lazy, and everything else he has tried to build here is completely jury-rigged, shoddy, and barely works (if it works). I have a hard time dealing with inept people, especially elderly bigots, who half-ass everything they do, don't take care of things, and are destructive; but sadly he's a very typical personality type for this region of the country.) Can I write things like that here? I feel bad for being critical of somebody's personality, but it's been building up, and I feel that I need to vent. Then again, these are all things about himself that he can change. For me, I also grew up in that kind of white-trash family background, but I've made a deep effort to rise above it. Hopefully, I have succeeded to some degree. I can't say the same for him or many of the other people, especially older ones, I have encountered here.

So for reading, I have a couple of oil lanterns, a red Coleman camp lantern that runs on white gas or gasoline or about anything you put in it, some rechargeable LED lights, and some candles. So I sit in that cabin reading or writing by lamp light for hours each day. The eye strain has become painful.

So, I'm staying in town for a couple of days. I left extra food for the horses at the cabin. It's good to have internet -- but, I wasn't completely without internet at the cabin all the time. I borrowed a "smart phone" that was miraculously able to pick up a signal and go online in the mountains. But keeping the phone charged was a problem.

My gf is starting to try to talk me into going down to San Francisco to live with her for a while. I can't tolerate cities, traffic, children, unruly dogs, or television sets because they make startling noises and sudden movements. Loud noises and disturbances put me on edge leaving me in a state where I can't think clearly and am under the weight of constant low-grade anxiety. It's like my nerves are raw, and I can't tune out or ignore distracting sounds or movements for long. I crave solitude. That's one of the reasons I came out here.

That, and I'm disgusted by modern civilization and humanity (with a few exceptions) in general. Specifically, I hate what so-called "development" or, more accurately, sprawl has done to the natural areas. There are so few left, and, at least in the lower 48 states, most of the wilderness areas and national parks are all crawling with people and their unleashed, undisciplined dogs and children doing day hikes or firing guns. "Let's go to the country and shoot guns Pa." Even out here, it seems like I can't walk more than a mile without coming across some kind or road or redneck jeep track that utterly destroys the beauty and serenity of the spot. Strangely, I've read that the construction of a new road through a formerly pristine area, one of his favorite places to hike, is what set off the Unabomber (a former UC Berkeley Mathematics professor who couldn't bear modern civilization and turned survivalist before becoming turning into a killer) on his nearly 20 year bombing spree. As a pacifist though, I would never harm anyone or sabotage or destroy their property if I can't withstand modern life any longer. I would simply walk off a 10,000 foot cliff.

Another thing I noticed is that the forests here don't look right. All of the trees, tall though they may be, have thin trunks, and there's a lot of thorny, jungly undergrowth. It turns out that logging companies clear-cut, burn, bulldoze or otherwise destroy what's left of most of the forests (even supposedly protected national forests and wilderness areas) here every 50 years or so, the length of the timber harvest cycle. Even what's called "old growth" forests are not truly old for politicians have redefined the phrase "old growth" to mean, generally, any tree 50 years old or so. Why? for economic reasons I would guess. To fool environmentalist. They like to claim that they still have a large proportion of old growth forests remaining in the state so they can get away with logging as much as the want. But that's only a guess.

I wonder if it would be feasible to live in Antarctica. Build a house on the beach and live on penguin eggs and seal meat, seaweed, algae, and lichens. I could build a small greenhouse and have fresh vegetable during the summer. With global warming, Antarctica will be tropical before long, and I could get an early start down there.
Yep... the time of year when my back feels like a bag of walnuts.

Goddamit! My back's aching from dragging all those damn sacks around. Back in the day it was a single present for each child - and they were grateful - even if the toys were made of asbestos and lead paint. Ah... the days of sensible health and safety regulations and weakly unionised labour. <3

These days, they want the whole toy shop. It isn't good for a man's back. I don't need a chiropractor to tell me this.

Popped a couple of OxyContin and it did nothing. Ms Claus offered a back massage, but once she's hit the gin, her hands are as cold as Rudolph's nuts.

So what the hell is a Furby anyway?

They seem to be popular with the brats again. Great! We've had some of those ugly things in storage since the last time they were popular in 1998. They look a little different... but we can give these ones to the visually impaired kids.

I'll be back. In the mean time, does anyone know a decent 'masseuse' in Thailand?
This week my father, who is a multimillionaire, told me that I was an idiot and that he didn't owe me anything so it looks like I'm going to be a lot poorer than I thought once he dies (he's 65).
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