I'm all nervous feeling and shaky. I don't know if it's too much caffeine, or not enough alcohol. I know, it sounds shady, but I was reading in my medical text today about how alcohol stops involuntary tremors. I went out at lunch, had a quick nip, then back to class. I was a little nervous at first, that I might let out a big beer-burp or something, but nothing happened. I didn't sweat profusely, if anything, I was less nervous than I generally am when I speak in class. Still though, a dangerous road, drinking at school. Drinking early in the day, on a regular basis, isn't generally a good idea, in my experience anyway.
So, in addition to my sweaty-shaky-vomitous-feverish good times, I've been a little jealous of Michelle's work colleagues again. I remembered though, that she loves me, and all that good stuff. I also elaborated a bit, realizing that if she did meet someone at work that she preferred over me, it would be awful of me to try and keep them apart for my own selfish gains. If I love her, and want her to be happy, I should really stop worrying about other guys. Other guys will always be around, and if she wants one, there's nothing I can do to stop her. And, if it made her happier than she is now, I wouldn't want to stop her. Well, ok, I'd want to, but I probably wouldn't. I probably couldn't might be more accurate. I'm all about italics tonight.
So yeah, I'm going to try and relax about that. It just makes me sad that she ends up spending 12 hours a day with some of these guys, and I see her an hour before work in the morning, at the most, and in the evening until one of us goes to sleep. Even then, at night, often one or both of us are stressed from our day, Michelle likes to rant, if she rants about her male coworkers a lot, I usually get sad. Of course, I'm always worried that we aren't having sex enough, but then I drink to try and relax or because my mouth hurts, or even hanging out with Michelle playing Mario Kart for shots, and I get sad, or worse. Then I feel bad, and unworthy, and I just cower and hide for a while. Needless to say; not very attractive. So yeah, I shoot myself in the foot too.
Oh, and for the record, my mouth hurts because I had a tooth pulled last weekend. Not just two days ago(it's Monday today), but the Saturday before that. A molar. Kinda got some dry-socket going on I think. Not too-too bad, but you know, I smoke, and I smoked the day I had it pulled, so it's not entirely unexpected. There I go again with shooting myself in the foot.
God I miss her, I'm going to go meet her at work soon. I'm going to try and just be cool and not try and get into her pants tonight. I'm going to try I say, because it's hard for me to not like, touch her or want to touch her when I look at her and stuff. I guess I probably freak out over touch too much, I don't know. Something isn't quite right on my end I think, probably why I can't quite figure it out; because it's my problem.
December tomorrow; the month of Christmas and my birthday, as well as the new year. Two weeks off of school too, and a trip to Bathurst featuring turkey and family, always fun. I need to pick up a bus pass tonight though, if I think about it. I wonder if I would have time to get one before I meet Michelle. But I digress. Later this week, my mom is staying with us for the night. She's visiting a friend nearby and wants to stop in on her way back and do some shopping. She's bringing me my old jacket, which is good, because the zipper broke on my new one. There's velcro to hold it closed, but no buttons, so, at best it's pretty breezy. Also my mason jars will be coming, time to resurrect Project Green Dragon perhaps? Lots to look forward to anyway.
Well that about wraps things up for now. May random find you well. Have a good one. \m/
So, it looks like I'll be moving soon. Saturday to be precise. I've got an appointment made to have an internet connection installed that night. I have work the next morning, that'll be my first shift at my new place of residence.
I'm pretty excited, and pretty nervous. It's been a while since I've lived with anyone that wasn't a member of my immediate family. And I've never lived with a significant other, or even really had one. I imagine I'll learn not only about her, but about myself as well. And I do enjoy learning after all.
Of course I realize, this could be bad. I could learn that I am incredibly hard to live with, or a neat freak, or too much of a dork for her. I could find her to be unbearably messy, or too demanding, or even too boring. These all seem quite unlikely really, and I'm not worried about them. I'm more worried about not being able to put in more hours at work, or it being loud around the apartment while I'm trying to work. Also, if we get mad at each other, I don't really know where I'm going to go to cool off. I'll figure it out though. We're usually pretty good at resolving stuff quickly, so hopefully it won't come up for a while.
I am concerned that my interest in drugs might be troublesome. For instance; I would like to make some poppy-seed tea, for the morphine and codeine contained within, but I don't want my girlfriend to be ashamed of or disappointed in me, and I also don't want her to right like it and get hooked or something, then it would be my fault, and I would be guilt-ridden. Perhaps I'd do well to stick with cannabis. Green Dragon is quite the fun concoction.
She does generally eat healthier than me, and I'm hoping some of that will rub off on me. I could certainly stand to benefit from that. Neither of us is very active right now, she likes the summer, I don't know why I've been sticking close to home recently. I guess I've got a lot on my mind, but really, all the more reason to stretch your legs. I might go take a walk tonight, visit the local watering hole one last time before I 'ship out'.
There's another thing; alcohol. How much is too much? I feel guilty even having my first drink now. It's almost midnight, there's no reason I should feel guilty, is there? I paid for this alcohol, I worked tonight, put in my full shift, even stayed late to make up for my break running long.
I feel like a broken record a bit, am I getting redundant? Well, at least I've got some major novelty coming into my life in the near future, should shake things up a bit, make me more interesting. Keep things fresh. Ok, now I'm a slogan generator.
Imagine an older version of yourself came from the future. Came back through time, to keep you from ending up as he did. He provides his lifetime of experience and knowledge at no cost to you, so that you might avoid the problems the future you faced. You might benefit from his experience, knowing beforehand about key events in history, and how to benefit from them. Suppose he was stuck in the past. He had nothing to do, but to hang out with you, making sure you got the point.
He'd drill you again and again, thinking he's doing you a great service. He'd train you to face the challenges that he knew lie ahead. You should be the best you that you could be. You'd know all the bad things you did, the regrettable things, and how to avoid them.
But the truth is this; once you made a single choice differently from the future you, perhaps even at the appearance of the future you, the knowledge the future you had is no longer valid. While major information may still be pertinent, the details of your life would inevitably be different, from the moment of intervention. The future you could offer only basic advice on how to conduct yourself. Any specific details, about people and situations you're yet to encounter, would be based upon your conduct and behaviour. Knowing, or at least having an idea about the future, would undoubtedly change your behaviour.
So, looking into the future, any real distance, is probably pointless.
***
(11:11pm)So my brother just informed me that word on the street is I'm gay. I show up at a bar with a lady, spend time with her, and people say I'm gay. When I was alone for a long time, no one said shit. Weird. I laughed though, I know what I like.
***
You could encode your predictions. Like old Nostradamus. Not the same though. Unless he too was visited by a future version of himself. One that spoke in code.
Fuck that; his predictions are so vague, you can apply them too easily to current events.
Basically what I'm saying is this; trying to predict the future, beyond a certain distance(say three days) is almost pointless.
I know, you could say 'Microsoft' to someone that could invest in it when it was cheap if you could travel through time, but would that really change your life? Time travel is so full of paradoxes, it's hardly worth exploring.
I'm fairly inebriated now. Courtesy of Tennessee. The sugar maple charcoal filtration process has me sold. I feel pretty confident now, but I wonder if I'll feel bad tomorrow. Fuck, those that are talking shit about me are certainly not close friends. What do I care what they think?
It's now 11:41pm and I'm feeling a little anxious. Everyone is still awake, and I am getting rapidly drunker. I don't want to rant at my family members, so I hope they go to bed soon. I probably work tomorrow(don't know for sure until tomorrow), so I should go to bed reasonably soon. But, as I once read, if one sleeps because of an alcohol buzz, when the buzz wears off, one wakes up. I have found this to be true in my own experience. And being that I don't want to wake up at 7 or earlier, and then try and sleep until work, I will try to stay up for a while longer.
11:46 now, I'm nodding off at the computer. The last drink I mixed must have been pretty strong. I did notice the pint was rather low that last drink I mixed, so, it isn't entirely surprising that I should feel drunk.
I best wrap this up now, as I'm more concerned with my buzz than my happenings. Have a good one, may random find you well. \m/
Eagles of Death Metal. Not drunk enough yet. Only on number two. 11:03pm
It's now 11:36pm. Just poured number four.
Oh my GOD! It's a MIRAGE! I'm tellin Y'ALL it's SABOTAGE!
Fuck, it feels like I never listen to music anymore. Well, I do when I'm drinking, which is still more often than some people listen to music. But it seems like I used to always have music going. In the car, between classes, at work, walking, anywhere, anytime. Always listening to something. Seems nowadays I'm more interested in my own thoughts than listening to music. Not that the two necessarily conflict, but sometimes it can be hard to think if a sound is bothering you. Distracting you I should(and did) say. I've mentioned many times now my affections for CBC radio. But keep that on the DL eh? I read books too, while we're talking about things that can paradoxically handicap you. You know what I mean, how in some circles, people wear ignorance like a badge. The most ignorant fuck of them all is usually the one talking. Perhaps this is a personal and not universal observation. But where I come from, you best hide your smarts. I right laughed out loud at that. See last post for further insight.
Started reading a new web comic today, or maybe yesterday. Yeah, yesterday. It's called Templar, Arizona. It's pretty interesting. I'm not all the way caught up yet, you're going to want to start from the start if you take a look at it. I was notified of a shirt with a picture of a bottle of pills in the middle, with "science will save me from myself" written around it in a circle. The shirt is somehow related to the comic, and as I liked the shirt, I decided to give it a read. I might be hooked. Add this to my favourites with Basic Instructions (Scott Meyer) and Buttercup Festival (David Troupes). I think Spike, the person responsible for Templar, Arizona is a fan of the band Clutch. The second volume of the series is called Mob Goes Wild, which is a Clutch song from the album Blast Tyrant. Good song. Good band. They get my seal of approval.
Note; do not open two years worth of web comics without restarting your computer. This is especially true is you are using a computer that is over a year old. It's gonna crash any second I think. Luckily, blogger will bail me out. 12:10am, now Saturday technically, just mixed number five.
I love that sweet Tennessee.
12:29am, closing Internet Explorer, I can't take this slowness. Videos on youtube look like slide-shows.
12:55am, I'm back. I watched a long video though, the Angry Video Game Nerd's Mario 3 video. It also talks about the movie the wizard, and features super mecha death Christ 2000 BC version 4.0 BETA. It's funny if you owned an NES and Mario 3 when they were new. Maybe even if you didn't.
My mom worked until midnight tonight. When she got home, she made me guess who she had a smoke with. It was an old friend of mine from high school. I really enjoyed her company, but I don't think we spent much time alone together. There was a few times when we were close, story of my life, but nothing came of it. She wrote something on the grad picture she gave me that more-or-less said I was the smartest guy in school. I was surprised. Not because I thought it was untrue, but that she was able to see it. There was this other guy, one of my good friends, who has fucked me over many-a-time, he was the president of the student council. He was probably regarded as the smartest amongst us publicly, but we were on the same page for most things. I distinctly remember helping him understand especially abstract concepts. We had a good mushroom buzz together one time where we rehashed the last few years(at the time). It was a good entertaining buzz, and we connected on some level, but over time of course, it faded. That's the thing with drugs; sometimes they work, sometimes they don't. This in itself is a very complicated concept, especially within my context. Like, mushrooms may work, and give you a buzz, but that doesn't necessarily mean you'll grow as a person from it. Or maybe it does. It's all relative I guess. We all measure progress and success in different ways. Hell, if I post something here, I consider it a productive act. I don't know if I'm really contributing much. I know I have one reader(shout-out to theloadingdock ), but do I weigh on her mind like a burden? I hope not. I know she occasionally derives insight from my writings, which is good, but more often expresses concern at my state of being. Is this a reflection on me or her? Ok, it's now 1:14, and I am feeling fairly inebriated. So, take a grain of salt now with what I say.
But I don't rightly know what I want from this blog. A revenue stream would be nice, but if I had a large audience, I'd probably freeze up. Like I did at dosenation.com. I posted a few articles, but once I started to get some serious comments and feedback, I froze up. Not because the comments we're negative, but because I wasn't sure I should be influencing these people. Now, here's where theloadingdock tells me I'm a good person, but she doesn't know me. Not that I'm a horrible person, but I take a fair amount of drugs, I've done things I feel bad about, and my future seems bleak. I've not given up, but I get jostled all the time. My dad shit on me the other day about not finishing university and choosing classes that start later in the day. I had a few days a week where I started at 3:30pm, so I could sleep in, and I said I had planned it that way. And he said something like; "Yeah, well, maybe that's why you're living at home with your parents working four hour shifts that are getting cancelled all the time..." basically that's it. I didn't really say much about it, as it wasn't entirely unprovoked, but I did go out and buy a bottle of booze. That seems to be my thing, I won't say anything, at least not if you're providing me free room and board, but you'll know I'm not happy. I hardly spoke to him at all until I was drunk. He's a recovering alcoholic by the way.
Why do I do this? Maybe my actions hurt as much as his words. Though, my actions are more drawn out and take longer to process. Does that make me cruel? Well, who made me what I am? Ok, I'm getting too deep into my own head now. Time for a commercial.
Fuck, don't those eHarmony commercials bum you out? Me too.
I was talking to my brother today. He's at college for the first time this fall, and he's having a rough go of it apparently. I've asked him about it many times, but this is the first he's mentioned of it being rough. It might be overshadowing my thoughts.
I hope he sticks it out, or switches to something he likes and get a degree in that. I understand his frustration though. I paid thousands of dollars to go to school when I was learning more at home on wikipedia and google and using the university's access to paid articles. I bought text books for classes I wasn't taking because I wanted to read them. That's how I roll. I come to class and listen, to try and learn. I never understood the people that came to class and played poker on their laptops.
Admittedly, I was somewhat shy and not fond of asking questions. Perhaps if I returned, I would be more confident, just being older than most of my classmates. I fell prey to the temptation to drink too much last time I went to school. Also, my classes were so varied; philosophy, calculus, astronomy and Latin. No wonder I stopped going to class.
I probably want to write. I do like the cbc, and radio offers a similar opportunity to communicate with language. And working at call centers, more than once I have been told I have a good voice and should look at radio or voice acting or something. I usually don't take too much stock in it, but it's happened a few times now, I'm starting to think they might be right.
Revisit the problem mentioned before; should I be influencing people? My experience in life has certainly not been typical, then are my insights not useful to typical people? Like, most people don't need to know how to deal with an existential crisis. Oh my god, the world is an illusion, I don't exist, there's no good and bad, choice is an illusion, et cetera.
For me, this comes in handy. It's usually just a matter of breathing deep and riding out the weirdness. I'm all over the place tonight. Contradicting myself, talking like a fool, talking too much. My instincts are telling me to end the post and go play some Call of Duty. But what do they know.
I think it would be funny as hell to see someone walking all psychotic, maybe dancing slightly, while the chicken dance is playing. Picture it now. Eyes narrowed, head barely moving, slight jerks in the arms and legs. Never moving the eyes. Smiling like a lunatic. What, is that funny? Or fucked up?
Seems I'm moving backwards.
The comic; Templar, Arizona. The main dude, Ben Kowalski, he has this encounter that sort of wakes him up. A terrorist/protester ends up stuck outside the window of his apartment. He ends up letting the guy in, and the guy pretty much leaves right away. But Ben comes away with a sense of confidence; he could have been killed by this outlaw, but no harm came to him. He faced a challenge independent of his family, and persevered.
I think I could use a good confidence boost. I don't know what would do it. I suppose, if I, like Ben in the comic, became a professional writer, like, to pay the bills, I would probably enjoy that. Even in the comic, Ben doesn't have a degree in journalism. I think he hasn't even graduated from high school. He takes pills to manage some sort of mental disorder(I think). He doesn't get out much. He's a lot like me. I don't take pills for any diagnosed mental disorders, but I do have problems with insomnia sometimes, and occasionally resort to pills. Usually Benadryl, but sometimes, if I have access to prescriptions medications, I'll go with benzos.
Prescription medication; at least you know what you're getting.
2:16 am, I'm on drink number 6 or 7 or 8, I don't really know. I drank at least a third of a quart. Or, a 750 ml bottle. I think that's a quart. Crazy Americans. Though I will give you this; height and weight are more descriptive in your system. Of people anyway. For small weights(IE; grams) metric is preferred.
I'm sort of running out of steam here. Not too much else to say right now. I hope I didn't offend my reader by anticipating her response. May random find you well. \m/ (2:22AM)
In a world gone mad, one must feign insanity to survive.
I'm not saying that this world has gone mad, I'm just saying if it did, be ready to act crazy.
I'm trying not to think about myself too much. Trying to be a good robot. I'm probably as well known by my numeric designations as my alphabetic. Customer number, account number, licence number, phone number, employee number, extension number, pay code, ip address et cetera. Maybe I need to go into the shop for repairs. A few of my systems have been malfunctioning, or at least functioning in a reduced capacity. But what if I did that intentionally, to down regulate my overactive thought processes, like CTRL-ALT-DELETEing my non-responsive thought-windows? It's something I've talked about before.
It sounds ridiculous I realize; why would anyone want to reduce their thoughts? Knowledge is power though, and power corrupts. I just seem to be constantly fighting myself for control of my emotions. My actions are my own, but how I feel about them is out of my control apparently. See, right now, I'm thinking about going to buy some bourbon. I know I want to, and I'll enjoy it at least for a while, but I'll feel guilty and I'll be broke well before payday if I get it. So I try not getting it. I'm still thinking about it, still wanting a drink, still unhappy, but at least I have the money I would have spent otherwise? Is that really a good reason not to go buy a bottle, fear of guilt? So I'll just stay home feeling pathetic and ashamed and weak, but I'll still have that thirty bucks. I'll be able to maintain my nicotine addiction and maybe buy myself a few coffees. I could even eat some greasy fast food. Surely all better choices.
Then why am I still thinking about the sauce? I'm not convinced. I don't have enough money to really live comfortably, so I might as well steal a bit of comfort from a bottle until I can. Trouble is, I don't see a time when that will happen. I never finished my degree, I still have a student loan to pay off, my parents can't afford to send me to school and I can't afford it myself. I'd be looking at a mortgage-sized debt load by the time I finished. Then the fun begins; interest at the bank, job search, housing market, car insurance, life insurance, health insurance, latest fashion, techno-trends, vacation destination, time management, a rat-race life.
*sigh*
I probably over analyze things, which is why I mentioned down regulating my thoughts. Too worried about the future, not enough enjoying the now. Maybe I should cut back on the caffeine.
The liquor store is almost closed now, soon it will be too late to drink even if I want too. I should probably spend that money soon though, that way I won't be able to buy booze. If I dry out for a week or so, I should be able to avoid 'getting wet'. I don't deal with stress well, and I don't like telling people to quit bothering me. I rather make myself unappealing to be around, and hopefully they leave of their own accord. It's sad, I know. Drinking also makes it easier for me to be around others, sometimes I even enjoy myself, so that presents a difficulty. It reminds me that I was once a social animal. I used to say things like 'trust in random' and 'random will provide'. I was so optimistic. I even thought communism sounded like a good idea.
Now though, I have less faith in my fellow man. I have seen our shortcomings, and they frighten me. Our ability to overlook and deny and tolerate evil is astounding. But we do use it to define ourselves as separate from it. But if we try and understand the evil, well, sometimes we find it to be not so separate after all. So what do you do?
Politeness, diplomacy, debate, tolerate, don't rock the boat though, that's not tolerated. Try and control yourself as best you can, don't leave yourself too vulnerable or exposed. Controlled out bursts to 'blow off steam', indulging in temporary escapes. Do what I do, try to be more like a robot. You are a passive observer in your environment, occasionally called upon to contribute when you can. It is your duty to try and maintain the environment if you can. A better environment for the humans around you means there should be someone there to fix you if you break down, so it is a logical course of action as well. Occasionally your programming may be overridden and you may have to do things that do not interest you, but you are a robot, a machine used to safely navigate, maintain, and explore the environment for which you were created. That doesn't sound too bad actually.
I've been thinking of humans as analogous to computers lately. We have our hardware, our software, our peripherals, our operating systems and acquired data, the user to direct our actions, all that fun stuff. The big difference as I see it, is the Internet. Is that, like, equivalent to our world? The environment in which virtual entities exist and move about? Or is it the collective unconscious? A means of passively sharing data amongst inter-connected 'life forms' for the mutual benefit of all involved? If that is the case, it is apparently far more developed than our own collective unconscious. Perhaps we could take a lesson from our creation here, and shift to a more hive-mind oriented existence. I have no idea how this might be accomplished of course, and I hope it would be similar to the Internet in that you could disconnect at will. Our computers maintain their own hard drives despite their connection to larger servers. Is the Internet like our dreams perhaps? A pool of data who's sources may not necessarily be trustworthy, but may still nonetheless provide very valuable and useful insights for our waking life. That rings true for my simile.
Tim Leary thought computers and the Internet were the next big thing after acid, the next evolution in consciousness. That, life extension and space travel. All good things really.
There, the liquor store is closed. My thirst too, has passed. I am even pleased with what I have written, and the thoughts between the words make me hopeful for the future.
That's one thing I say a lot now; 'I'll see you in the future'. I act cynical, but obviously I believe there will be a future, and I'll be there to see it. Also, I'm a smart ass, and time seems to only go one way, and if I ever see someone again, it'll always be in the future.
So let's all be good polite robots, help the humans out, and hopefully we'll get to see some cool stuff. See you in the future. \m/
"Them yellow jackets keep the tired man from slackin'..."
Don't they. Is that the regulators? The low-men in yellow coats? Stephen King reader?
Woke up drunk at about 10 am. I was like damn, last I remember I was feeding the VLT my change at the bar. Left a circle of puke to clean up this morning, I think I may have come home and had ice cream. What the fuck eh? Sure 10 beer or so, tequila, southern comfort, why not throw a little milk in there, see what happens? Why was I sick again?
Last night, I went to see the local sports team with my uncle. A few of my friends were supposed to meet up with me, and we were to hang out and drink and make merriment and such. I ran into the only friend I had been in contact with prior to the sports event there, he said he'd come find me at my seat later. He didn't. So, I had a beer and a shot before I left, waited through the first third of the game without drinking, but then I started getting those five dollar beers. I had four more at the game, got my uncle to spot me a fifty should I run into my friends and decide to head out to a bar after the game. Well, the game ended, never saw my friends, so I left.
I kept the fifty though.
When I got home, I had a puff of weed, drank my two beer, and sat around with my brother and his friend, After ranting for a while about balckholes and MECOs, my brother was telling me to shut up, so I figured I might as well head out to the bar, as it was only about 11pm or so.
So I put on my shoes, and out I went, into the night.
As I approached, i could see that the bar was quite busy. I knew I wasn't particularly interested in talking, but that I was drunk enough to not mind should I end up stuck talking to someone for a moment or two. I know, misanthrope alert, so what?
I got out of the shower yesterday, I was sitting around naked, and I realized, damn, I'm like, an organic being. I'm a human. I rely on simple proteins and vitamins to survive. I can be easily broken with a rock or chunk of metal. I may put on clothes and build a mental image of myself greater than the flesh-bag I walk around in, but that's where I live. That's who I am. I'm a human being. A fucking monkey with language. For all my thoughts of gravity, magnetics, and energy, I'm still bound to this limited use vessel. Was Einstein just a human? DaVinci? Jesus? Is being just a human, more than enough?
So I ordered up a shot of tequila and a moose green first thing, get me started. They seem to always bring out the lemon and salt when I order a shot of tequila, which I don't mind, and I will use, but I don't need it to take a shot. I looked around; people on the dance floor, a one-man-band, basically a guy with a karaoke machine and a guitar, people sitting at the bar and at tables, mostly older folks, is that the guy I saw at the grocery store with my uncle?
We're buying all junk, like 5 pounds of bacon, a couple bags of chips, a cake, and about 10 bottles of pop. We see this guy in the store with his kid, he has 2 or 3 bottles of the store brand pop. My uncle just goes up to the guy, like "Sir, excuse me, but the good pop is on sale you know for.." and the guy interrupts him "99 cents, yeah..." and continues his shopping. I was like damn! That's an eleven cent difference, this guy can't afford the extra quarter to turn his PC colas into Pepsi? Way more information than I wanted to get heading out to the grocery store. In all fairness though, I was a little disgusted that we bought 5 pounds of bacon, cheap or not, that's a lot of fucking bacon.
So I took my shot, had a drink of beer, and headed outside for a cigarette. You can't smoke inside public buildings here, and most places you can't take your drink outside with you, but this place has a porch with some tables, gives them a loophole I guess. So you can drink and smoke at the same time! Free country? Mostly.
Some younger folks were outside, pacing around, one guy tearing up a piece of paper into tiny pieces. In retrospect, they were probably on e or some shit sold to them as e, but I didn't really care. I was on beer number eight, a few shots in, took a valium, I was just feeling good. Lyin' back in my chair, looking at the stars, good time. I still had forty bucks in my pocket, plus change, beer in my hand, a few hours before last call, and not far to walk home.
Ok, whoa, I just almost puked. I coughed right hard, I guess I smoked too many cigs yesterday. I coughed right into the toilet, it kinda echoed, I hope I didn't wake anyone up. But I coughed so hard that my lips went numb. My whole face is still tingling a bit. Maybe I need to smarten the fuck up. I want to blame my uncle, because he can be hard to spend time with, so I tend to use more drugs when he's around, which is all the fucking time lately. But I know it's not his fault, I should just tell him to shut up and "leeme lone ferabit". Deja vu. I already typed this out, was it here, or in a msg to a friend? Either way, still on my mind, goes in the blog.
So I drank a few more beer, maybe had one more shot of tequila, and basically sat at the video lottery terminal the rest of the night. I played double bonus, trying for free-spins, I maybe cashed out once at 10 bucks, but put probably twenty or thirty bucks in change in. In the morning, when you do the math, gambling is stupid. Unless, that is, you wake up with a full-ass wallet, but that almost never happens.
So, I gather that I made my way home, and judging from the vomit, I ate some ice cream then puked in the basement. Right in front of the couch. My brother was probably there too, neither of us saw a need to clean up the puke last night apparently. Not too much trouble this morning, but there was a bit on the couch, that's soaked in now, it'll probably have a slight odour for a week or so. Good time to buy some febreeze. Although, too me, that almost smells like puke. I guess I've used it too many times to try and cover that smell, now the two are associated.
I best add a don't read while eating disclaimer, as this post has taken a vomitous turn.
So, I woke up this morning, my light was on in my bedroom, but I could hardly tell as the sun was shining very brightly. I noticed I had placed a garbage can next to my bed, I should have clued in then that there might be puke around, but I just did a quick check in the room, the garbage looked clean, so I figured I hadn't been sick. This calls for a wake and bake. Putted around between my room the kitchen and the bathroom for a few minutes. I let the dog out.
I made my way to the basement to inspect the scene. Lights were off, stuff looked basically ok. Turned on the lights, oh, there's a pizza on the floor in front of the couch. I best get to that. Grabbed some paper-towels, cleaned it up. Changed the garbage bag I disposed of the paper towel in, no one likes that smell hangin' around.
Then I got dressed, and went outside to play with the dog for a bit. Initially I went out to see if I puked in the driveway or anything, but the dog was feeling quite energetic and was happy to see me, so I obliged her and through the ball a few times for her. I stayed outside for quite a while really, as I didn't want to wake anyone up, and with my uncle and brother visiting, we've got a sleeper on the couch upstairs, which is the main TV viewing area.
I saw my neighbour outside while I was playing with the dog. She's a year older than me, has a kid now, just recently actually. Made me think again about being a fucking monkey and that I suppose davinci and einstein must have felt the same way. Trapped? I didn't say anything, as I have long hair and a crazy-man beard, so sometimes people react unfavourably to my approach. At least, that's what I told myself. Actually, I thought something like, am I wasting my life? Am I kidding myself? Should I just get drunk more, get a shitty job but with more money, and get to making babies? That doesn't sound right for me.
Ok, now my uncle's awake, I'm going to get filled in on my return last night. I'm starting to get a bad feeling. Maybe gooooooooood morning might have been a tad too optimistic. Technically, it is now afternoon. Wish me luck. \m/
Drinking pretty steadily tonight. I started at about 5. I had to deal with some cell phone company on hold waiting bullshit. Not fun. It was right after I finished my call centre job as well, so, I hung up the phone to go make a half hour call. I should have gotten stoned first.
So, I've been logged into the ole E-Buddy doing an avatar slide show for about a half hour. I don't even know if anyone is watching. But, there may be someone online that I hope is watching. Nothing lewd, I should say. I have no photos of that nature on my computer. Plenty online.
Got iTunes on shuffle. I have good music. A thought occurs to me; should I buy more alcohol tomorrow? I remember now; I am supposed to be acquiring an alternative tomorrow. I hope that works out.
Alcohol is acceptable though. I seem to have had much luck with it as of late. Not too bad in the hangover department, no DUI, not broke. Haven't been vomitous-sick in a little while, a week at least. I even had two drinks earlier and sobered up before I got to the night's REAL drinking. I should probably close the chat, as I'm no longer sober enough to trust my judgement. I'm kinda like the guy in this video right now;
Generally though, I'd say something more like "Let's interface our genitals" or something equally robotic. It usually gets a laugh, but my eyes let her know I'm serious. Sometimes her eyes return the sentiment, sometimes they don't. That's life; can't win 'em all.
Whoa, did I name a post this same thing before? Crazy deja vu. I'm in an infinite mirror hallway. I am so small and insignificant. Dust in the wind, I am a grain of sand...
...snap back. Here I am. Song is over, time to change. Change - Blind Melon, that's what I'll play. Damn, I didn't log off the chat yet. I'm likely to eat my foot. Knowing that, i still can't close it yet. What if I receive a message?
Kyuss time. \m/
I had a weird sensation in my throat earlier. I wonder what corkscrew esophagus feels like. It was unpleasant, whatever it was. Too many cigarettes I figure. Thoughts now turning to the coming days. Will I get that jazz I'm waiting on? Should I go buy more marijuana or alcohol? I should let any readers know, I do in fact have Crohn's disease, a condition which Health Canada recognizes as potentially benefiting from medical marijuana use. Now, the local gastroenterologist said he believes marijuana only benefits the terminally ill, and it is against his personal beliefs to prescribe it otherwise. Meanwhile, I went from seven pills a day to a few puffs a day. So, yes it is still illegal for me, but I could put up a good fight in court. So, I'm probably not worth trying to prosecute, especially considering I know that juries determine guilt not based on law, but based on personal ethics, I think I could convey the difference quite well in court. Like, if someone stole bread to feed their family, yes the stole, but for a good reason. Yes I consume illegal drugs, but they genuinely help me. But that is a post for another day.
I felt alright this morning. I figured I'd make it to work no troubles. Ten minutes before my shift, I ended up puking bile. But I made it in alright.
I was worried when I woke up. I knew I had been online, written to a friend's girlfriend. Business as usual for me and the bottle. Nothing too offensive though, so all's well.
I had a strange dream last night. I was with a girl, a little younger than me. She was blonde and wearing a red dress. We were at my parent's house, and we kept moving from room to room because... I think I was leading her around. I wanted to be alone with her, but we kept being interrupted or I was distracted. I got the feeling she was uninterested. Eventually, after far too much relocation, we finally achieved some measure of privacy, and she promptly left.
I felt like I knew this girl, but couldn't identify her. My focus was too much on my environment, and not enough on my companion. Thus, I was inevitably left to face the environment alone. Subtle, no? Pull your head out now.
I can almost smell the old PC Games. The sense of wonder. The new technology. The excitement. I miss the newness. Even the beauty. I remember Doom, and Dune 2, and even Commander Keen. Duke Nukem 3-D. Bio-Menace. Raptor; Call of Shadows, Solar Winds; The Escape, Monkey Island, Hugo's House of Horrors, One Must Fall 2097, MegaRace, Death Rally, Red Baron, Stellar 7, Stunts, Quest for Glory 4, Police Quest, King's Quest 5, Descent, X-Wing and TIE Fighter, Lemmings, The Incredible Machine, Prince of Persia, Jagged Alliance, XCom; Terror from the Deep, The Dig, Full Throttle, Under a Killing Moon, The Lost Vikings, Cannon Fodder, Postal, Grand Theft Auto, Ghostbusters, Warcraft, Star Craft, Civilization, Masters of Magic, Seven Cities of Gold, so many games. I've invested a lot of my time in games. Good memories. I just hope it wasn't a waste. Even table-top games, board games and card games.
I think it's almost time for a game of Risk.
Evade and avoid, don't think about that. What's health? Don't worry about the future. Maybe that's the dream's message; stop worrying about the future so much, and do something you like now. Play your games. Read your fiction. Don't worry so much. Fuck, I'm worried about whether I worry too much; that's a good indication that I do.
Dexter 3 this weekend. I hope that Flight of the Conchords season 2 is good. My little TV digression.
I feel like working until the sun goes down. Staying out of sight until nightfall. Earning monies lost in yesterday's absenteeism. Avoiding potentially uncomfortable conversations entirely. Wait until everyone is asleep, then emerge to wander at will. Somewhat like a vampire I'd gather, but without the coffin. But, alas, I am hungry, and must venture forth, into the light, to retrieve suitable snacks.
Pizza would be swell.
I'm too sensitive. I don't want to hear about how I'm not living up to my potential. I don't want to discuss my thoughts, for fear of ridicule. I don't want to try, in case I disappoint myself. Enough of this self-loathing bah-log-nah, this is why I drink. You can't be sensitive if you can't really feel. Then, not paralyzed by fear, I am able to speak and do things for a while, that otherwise I would not be able to will myself to say or do. Of course, I end up making mistakes and being sloppy, but at least I'm doing something. This sounds to me like an error in judgement. Flawed logic on my part. The flaw is assuming the only way to overcome fear is with alcohol, or drugs I guess, depending on the fear. I'm not sure what needs to be done, if anything, to get me to move on with life and live it and shit. But if something does need to be done, I bet it's way more work than getting drunk.
For all my drinking, I seem to be more productive. I wrote a lot here, as compared to my usual posting rate, in the last week or so since I've been drinking more frequently. Sometimes I write sober, the next day, long rambling passages. Sometimes I write dark and terse materials, haunting with the air of truth. But how much truth these writings contain, I do not know. That is the catch 22. The quality of writing goes down, but the production level increases. Lots of unedited is better than none for fear of criticism.
But is that really what I'm afraid of, or is it being accepted. If you're widely read, you're responsible for shaping the minds of such a large group, that the weight of it can be unbearable. Do you write the darkness you fear, to pass it on to your audience? What if they should take your fears as inspiration? The guilt might be unbearable. Better to keep it light and safe? Hardly worth reading. The drink gives courage enough to write. I shouldn't need this. Is it better to live clean and be stifled, always feeling like you've got more to say, you're wasting your potential?
I've been talking with this girl. I quite enjoy her company, and would like to get to know her better. But, she has stated she doesn't want kids ever. Now, I am in no hurry to procreate by any means, but I figure, eventually, I should be financially secure enough to want to reproduce. With her, I know, down the road, I'd need to go elsewhere. Might she change? Should I even ask her to?
Hell, I'm way ahead of myself. I don't hardly know her. It could be I would become irritated by her after a few months and might want out then. Or her tired of me. Lord knows, I'm no picnic. But, the real question is, we like each other, and we're at least willing to give it a go, but if down the road it's inevitably going to fall apart, is it worth pursuing? Could I change my mind, and not want to reproduce? If I ended up sterile or something, that would be ironic. I hope if i don't reproduce, that my brother does.
Stupid as it is, I want my name to live on. My dad was one of seven children, one of two males. His twin brother, has only daughters(adopted, but that's another story), so they won't likely be passing on the family name. Their five sisters have a number of kids between them, my cousins, with all kinds of last names, but none the same as my own. It seems foolish to want something as simple as your name to live on, I want to pass my genetic material as well, don't get me wrong, but I feel almost obligated to pass my name. I don't know though, that adoption would cut it, in truth. I feel the need to plant my seed.
Is that the Jack Daniel's talking? I don't think so. I'm pretty sure I'd say that sober. I do support adoption, but I also support the availability of abortion. Hey Zeus, i can hardly keep myself out of trouble, let alone another life form. I hope in time I will be responsible enough to raise a kid, but I wonder if I will every truly be ready. And does that mean I should just go for it, or not even bother?
I worry too, that I might come across more pleasant than I am. I wonder if I should try to reveal my worst qualities up front, to get them out of the way. Though, that certainly has not worked in the past *cough*yvonne*cough*. My fault though, I got self conscious and disappeared, can't expect much to come of that. But I really liked her, still do. I don't even know her, it's all irrational, and i don't expect she still thinks of me, but I can't help myself. I indulge the pointless and soul-crushing possibility, that someday we will end up together. Even seeing it makes me laugh at my own naivety. Why would she like me? I'm a high-strung drug user with more trivial knowledge than social skills.
So, should I investigate this new girl with this other girl, who I've met up with at an appointed time a few times, still in my head? God, it's so sad if you know the truth; I met her for a few poker games at her parents diner. I barely said anything, as I was trying to quit drinking, and when I did speak, it was this self depreciating bullshit that is unattractive no matter how it comes. I figured, I'd try to reveal all the worst things about me first, get them out of the way. Talk about the worst shit I've done, any regrets I have, that sort of downer material. No wonder she seemed...
I don't even know how she seemed, I was so self absorbed, I had to try and contain my feelings at any cost. So stupid. I still am I guess, I've not done much to learn, aside from watch pornography and talk to girls while I'm drunk. Really though, even saying that, I realize talking to people is a big part of social growth I have limited myself in as of late. As of the past few years actually.
It's like, I try to keep a low profile, because I'm afraid of getting hurt. I've had friends I trust turn on me, and I've turned on friend's I thought I'd trust for life. I feel like I no longer know what the world holds. I feel, really, like I never did, and my whole life has been a blissful lucky streak up to the point of realization, when I learned, my life is only getting shorter, and everything I do has consequences that potentially could affect me for the rest of my life. It's almost paralyzing.
I feel I'm making the right call, now anyway, to drink. I cut out the doubtful chatter, go with my instincts, and repair the damages. It's better than doing nothing, this much I know.
My instinct while drinking, is to try and contact this girl who I have been conversing with as of late. I'm scared of pregnancy, scared of sexually transmitted diseases, and scared of my own lack of experience. While drinking, they are there, but the volume is turned down, figuratively of course. I just don't know what I should be doing. Should I be getting drunk and making plans with this lady-friend? Should I sober up and buckle down stay offline and save up some money to get the fuck out of dodge? Should I try and move in with this girl I barely know, who keeps various ferrets and other mammals as pets, but who seems to enjoy my company, barely drinks, and likes to smoke weed a lot. Not to mention, she enjoys pills, but that might be another can of worms.
Last we spoke before her injury as of late(since then, the prescription talk has been related to current painkillers), she had a regular supply of ativan. This is most definitely habit forming, as I have formed a benzo habit in my past. Though I didn't particularly enjoy ativan, I recognize it is a powerful drug. I wonder if two druggies should really combine their powers. We would most likely not form Captain Planet, if you catch my drift.
I'm almost out of beer now, and all out of mix for the whiskey. I'll just smoke some weed and go to sleep, before I delete this post. In closing; for future reference, the current accepted doomsday is December 21, 2012. Whether this is the future, the past, or the point of reference, depends on a number of factors. I'm not sure that was from me.
I should be hung over. I drank enough last night. Maybe it's because I drank to give my lungs a break. So my body, being thankful for my not smoking tons of yetis, alleviated my stomach problems, or at least temporarily blocked the signals, to reward my virtuous drunkenness.
Wishful thinking perhaps, but reflective of reality none-the-less.
And with sobriety, comes guilt at your absence. Whether this is caused by genuine karmic intuitions of misfortune, or a vitamin B12 deficiency, I do not know for certain. I know it comes to the same thing; time spent down on yourself.
Now I turn to facebook, and the mysterious friend requests from strangers. We have many friends in common, and they've added me as well, yet, I cannot remember them. They have similar names to people I know, and some of them appear to be attractive women, who believe they know me, and yet I cannot remember them? This is strange.
I remember something about the CIA data-miners providing funding for aspects of facebook, and I wonder now, are these strange individuals dummy files setup to gather information? Are they posing as forgotten old friends? What do they hope to learn?
I dreamed a few dreams last night, strange considering. I seldom wake up from drunk-sleep and remember dreams. I remember an old friends, no longer a friend. We were speaking in a polite manner. I remember a crowd. Weaving through it. Was it an outdoor concert perhaps?
From another night, I remember a family from my hometown, all gathered together in some sort of celebration. I remember having a difficult time determining which of the sisters had been in my class, opting to look for recognition in their faces. I had the distinct impression that this was yet to happen. Those I could see appeared to be dressed at least semi-formally.
Ok, now my stomach is starting to hurt. I just expectorated some cigarette tar, maybe that's it. My body is like, ok, if they lungs are going to hurt, we have to reroute power from the stomach block. Either that, or the coffee is sitting heavy on the cereal.
Am I just getting warm with this toque on? Making me mini-heat-stroke? Doubtful. Rambling though. What person other than me would care to read this? Admit it, if you aren't me, and you are reading this, aren't you asking yourself 'why am I reading this?'. I'm sorry, I'll try and make this more interesting again.
Should I embrace the drink, as it is a socially acceptable addiction, at least in part? Not that I am shunned for my marijuana consumption, though a few do disapprove. It's more like, because my father had his problems with the bottle, I'm afraid I'll get stuck in that too. So when I do drink, I am worried and guilty, making the drinking less fun, more stressful. So I drink more, to alleviate the stress, bringing me closer to that which I fear, being a full blown junky. I guess the term is drunk when you mean alcohol. Drunky.
Well, that's one thing I fear, but I'm not about to reveal all my secrets.
I've been thinking about a trip I had one time. I was high on a little pcp, and a lot of acid. I listened to music so loud, I lost contact with my body. All my attention was on the incoming audio signal. It bled through into my vision and sense of touch. As though all my cells are but floating on the surface of reality, which in turn is being rocked by the music. The music carries me through reality. It's hard to describe.
Almost like I backed my awareness up into my head, so all I was aware of was the music. What a good time that was. I literally had to check to see if I had ejaculated(I hadn't, but would not have been surprised if I had). I almost lost contact with my body another time on salvia. I was a tube, except for the back of my head, which I could still feel pressing hard into the floor. I could see the static from my headphones spiralling out from both sides in front of me, like a double helix.
It scared me, so I pretty much jumped up back into three dimensions. I don't know why, but I want to try and experience being music again. But I am afraid of bad-tripping. When I was drunk, I said for sure it is worth the risk to dose and try for a great buzz. But in the sober light of day, I just don't know if it's worth the risk.
So now that my shift is almost over, I'm thinking about tomorrow and payday. What should I do with my extra cash? Lots of alcohol? Guitar supplies? Try and find some pills? Finally get that prescription cough syrup? Damn intoxicants, so fun, but so shameful. Maybe just buy a lot of weed and smokes so I don't run out.
Now this post is getting shitty again, so I'll wrap it up here. May random find you well.\m/
I think I took 7 30mg Tylenol with Codeine. I skimmed a bit from three 15mg temazepam twice. Pocketed 9. Plus I took some benadryl, like 2 or 3.
I drank 6 beer of my own, at least two of the house owner's. I mixed probably three drinks with the last can of sprite and some flat old coca-cola. One whiskey, one souther comfort, and one with soco and a 5 year old rum. Not too shabby, had to drink one this morning though, all warm and such.
Woke up in the master bedroom, "Odd", I thought, "I had planned to sleep on the couch"
Look around, no obvious messes. One sad looking joint, can't even light it. I recall putting temazepam in a joint or two. I wonder if you can even smoke benzos. I looked up a few videos on the net. I hope I disconnected, because I'm pretty sure they have dialup.
Cleaned up my empties, let the dog out, check his dish, looks good. Found my last cigarette, went out to smoke it and enjoy the morning. My mom pulls in the driveway while I'm outside smoking. I wave, "Hello". Good timing.
I get my stuff together and head on out. Done my housesitting duty for the day.
I've been drinking this evening. Though I don't feel inebriated. I even took like 5 benadryl to boost. I feel unusually confident and content. Patient even.
And I wonder; should I be drinking every night?
It seems a foolish question. Why would anyone want to put themselves through that. Well, to function.
I seem to have retained my cognitive abilities. Also, I feel not so god damned anxious. That gets hard on the head after a while. God I hope I don't get Parkinson's.
God twice in one paragraph, or stanza, I don't really know what to call this. It doesn't Rhyme, no real plot to follow. Just a rant I guess.
Lots of great writers were hooked on the sauce. I could probably deal with being a great writer, if I were so lucky. I just feel lately like my confidence is shot. A little cocaine, a few drinks, and I'm on top of the world.
But I crash hard.
I'll wake up feeling nervous already, like I've done something for which I should be ashamed. I try and shake it off, hair of the dog is great, but often I ate the whole dog the night before. So brush your teeth, make a strong coffee, and get to work. By the time I'm done, the alcohol is usually well out of my system, and I'm ready to go back to bed to hide for a while. Even when I remember the whole night, I still can't shake this feeling that I missed something or said something foolish or cruel while intoxicated. I even get so caught up in this guilt trip, that I'll act like a dick to anyone that interrupts my guilt. Thus, giving myself an actual reason to feel guilty.
But, if I could remain semi-buzzed until after work, then hit it hard, and get some side-work done, writing et cetera, then I could quit my day job if any of it worked out. But then what, stuck on the bottle, dependent on inebriant inspiration. What's worse, I'd potentially have the cash flow and free time to do myself some serious damage. Right-Brain sez; perhaps the reason I remain financially insecure is for this very reason. If I had more money, I'd do more drugs. If everything happens for a reason, that's a pretty good reason to keep me broke. My very life may dependent on my remaining strapped for cash.
It makes me smile, what a good justification for not trying; if I succeeded, I'd probably fuck myself up. Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, all of that. I can't trust myself with money. That's a little sad, but I can't really feel it. Thanks to the inebriants of the night.
Moderation still seems to be the way to go, for the time being. But, as Josh Homme said in an interview, "Moderation in everything, including moderation"
Now, the benadryl disconnects my thoughts, as though they are getting farther and farther apart. I can almost see the coil of rope at my feet as I reel in the next thought.
Events appear on the horizon to me now; the future a blur in front of me. Blurry though it is, I see there is much of it yet. I cannot say this is real, but I can see no reason to be frightened by it either. A vague something is better than a definite nothing, at least for a while. This may be useful knowledge for future psychedelic excursions.
I am drawn deeper into myself now, the outside world is becoming less and less interesting. It is almost time for sleep.
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.
