Not tonight. Not tonight.

This beer makes me want to sniff a big ole rail of E. Grind up a colourful pill into a few neat lines. Sniffing them sometimes an hour apart, sometimes two in a row. Chugging beer to wash the taste from the back of my throat. Smoke cigarettes always. Ugh, feel the back of your throat? That means it's time for another. Especially with all that smoke-phlegm. Man, tomorrow is gonna be rough. Ahh well, with any luck, I'll sleep right through it. Listen to music, play cards, make plans, start things, leave them unfinished to discover tomorrow. Write and rewrite the first sentence of a post that ends up blank for an hour or so. Bob your head with the music. Smile. You feel it. You are alive. You think, fuck, I get high on life too, it just takes me more effort to concentrate. Your brain is quiet, you wonder, am I blacked out already? Will I remember this? Will I wake up in a panic, all because I don't remember brushing my teeth and turning off the tv? I imagine inappropriate phone calls, unnecessary cruelty, or worse. When really, I probably hurt my knee, wretch for a bit, then go to bed. But when you wake up in a fog, you don't know what happened, so it's probably best to be cautious. High velocity information assimilation. Too bad for retention, the info is encoded state-dependent like. Talk too much, make too big a deal about too many things. Remember too much, demand too much accuracy. Perfection perfection.

That's what this beer tastes like.

Discretion discretion.
Associating alcohol with stimulants is a hard association to recode.

1 + 1 = 3?

The Double-slit experiment.
An interference pattern where none should be.
How can the photon interact with itself?

What are the implications with relation to the mind?
Do the two hemispheres interfere to form the interference pattern known as mind?
Does the availability of a second perspective multiply infinitely the number of possible interactions? Over time, of course.

That is also memory dependent. With no awareness of a previous situation, the situation one is currently faced with seems infinite. What you do, you've always done, and always will. But with an awareness of fluctuation, one can compare the memories of different states to there current state to see if another, more desirable state is available.

However, the existence of a more desirable state, does not denote necessarily the availability of a more desirable state. If other entities are believed to exist, then it would stand to reason that they too would seek a more desirable state for themselves. If multiple occupancies are allowed, then the state itself becomes different, a shared experience instead of a private one.

One is one, but two plus time equals infinity. Or two over time. One plus one is four. One, the other, none and both. But is neither really a possibility? Is both? Or is zero a semantic construct?

The double-slit experiment is like staring at the sun, or a crack in reality. You see it, have an understanding of what is happening, but there is something missing. Some information crucial to understanding what you are seeing that is hidden from you. And the more you look, the more troubled you are. Curiosity has killed many-a-cat.

left, right, wrong,

Lately I've been just trying to get away.
To hide my face from view.
Be alone with my troubled self.

I don't know if I worry too much about others,
Or if I focus too much on myself.
I know I'm often anxious, uneasy, or uncomfortable.
I also know I'm often high, stoned, or otherwise intoxicated.
But which came first?
Sometimes, it's hard to remember.
And that, came after I started getting high.

At least, it seems that way.

Maybe state-dependent memories, being harder to access from different states than their encoding, make it seem as though my memory is spottier than it is. When in actuality, I have more memories than I can access at any given time. No obvious logical errors thus-far.

But what of the edginess and frustration as of late?
Strictly sexual frustration manifested as hostility?
Too simple me thinks.

Could it be, that I am getting older, and am now concerned about my future?
Being that my current employment is more-or-less source of income until I get my shit together. But what exactly is getting my shit together? Just making a choice? It seems almost absurd to believe in free-will at times, as some people's lives seem so preordained. But it seems I really do in fact, have a choice as to what career path I can pursue. With ideas like right and wrong, good and bad, assimilated into the psyche from such a young age, how can I see careers as anything but right and wrong? My choices as anything but good or bad? How many wrong choices can I make? What if I never find the right thing for me?

What if I'm not meant to make it?

What if I'm destined to fail at whatever I do?

Fuck it. That's bullshit. Either way, might as well try something, if it doesn't work out, try something else. Probably the worst that could happen is a bunch of people think your an idiot or an ass or something, people who otherwise wouldn't know you at all.

...To interrupt myself, what if a bunch of people wishing me ill-will had a real-life effect on my general well-being? Back to you left.

Probably not, sounds like magical thinking to me. So, the choice is stay unknown, unfulfilled, but nobody knows what a loser you are. Or, try to do something with your life, face criticism and judgement, do with it what you will, and either succeed or fail financially and socially, probably both would be the same. I know when I'm broke, I'm not particularly social. So, either succeed, or end up back where you are. It seems so obvious to go do something. But then, you have to choose what you want to do. Do I want to write? Write what; journalism, novels, music, movies et cetera. Or do I want to get into the sciences; research or applied; chemistry, physics, or biology, government or corporate, et cetera. What school should I go to? How will I pay for it?

So many choices, and the problem is, a lot of them sound good. I'd like to get my hands into all of that stuff, and more. If I'll be very lucky to live to be 100 years old, how can I expect to fit all that stuff in? Although, come to think of it, I sort of do now, but I have no letters to write after my name, and accordingly, a low-paying job. Not that I want to be rich necessarily, but it would be nice to be financially independent. I think I want more time and space to study and research and experiment, with all sorts of things. Botany, pharmacology, music...

...blah blah blah...

...Yeah, I just want to read and watch and do what I want, which should remain within reason, (nothing too illegal). I suppose some consults and company now and again...

...the problem is probably focusing too much on me, obviously. I think and worry too much about the consequences of my actions until I just get overloaded and crash, or freaked-right-out or something. My brain won't stop picking me apart. See? Even now.

Perhaps I should consult a professional. Problem with that is, that professionals are still human and capable of errors. Errors of judgement, flaws of character, bad habits, hard to find someone to trust as wiser than oneself. No trust, no confidence. Lots of fear though, and perhaps that's enough. If I can direct my fear, I should logically be able to direct my focus. Make myself afraid of stagnation to push myself forward. Make myself afraid of falling behind to push myself to get ahead. Fear as a tool, within myself. This I will consider, the insight of the night. Fight the media induced fear with productive fear. Fighting fear with fear. That could work, or I could shit my pants.

Remember; the worst times make the most interesting stories. The conflict, the struggle, that's the story. That's the plot.
"Life's journey, not a destination"
-Steve Tyler