stream of drink-thought-benadryl

Kid A is the 'Dark Side of the Moon' for my generation.
If it is for you and yours too, than we are of the same generation.

Basically, we was born in the 80's.

Fuck, If I only do acid one more time in my life, I hope it's at a radiohead concert.
I'm just drinking, smoking weed and taking benadryl, well, i guess just might be a little light.
So I'm mixing a lot, but it sounds great live.

I went to a tool show an acid. Awesome. I went on speed. I spent a lot of time fiending for a smoke and too sketched out too smoke because of all the security(real or imagined). Acid was better. I wish I had some for the Queens show in Halifax, that was awesome, but with some psychedelics, mmmMMMMMmmm. It woulda been unreal tasty.

I'm not bragging, but I'm not ashamed of myself.
I bought all my intoxicants. Cash-money style.
No one was hurt in getting them to me, or by my consumption of them.

Still, I may be hung over tomorrow. If so, that will be my punishment for my 'selfishness'.
Is it so selfish to want to get wasted at home on a Friday night?
I'm not blasting my music.
I'm not vomiting.
I'm not knocking things over.
Hell, I'm even typing quite well.

But in all seriousness, I've got some issues.
That I probably should...*glug glug glug*...

Hey, who's hungry?!

Ahhh, what a tasty beer!
Union made, in Saint John New Brunswick.
My birthplace.
I saw the light, *holds bottle up to light*, and the light was green.
Moose green.

Moosehead lager is my beer of choice, for those interested.
Yeah right eh?

*Gets another*

Mmmmm.

I'm sorry if this is boring to anyone who read this far, but this is basically a reflection of my current state of mind.

Radiohead is awesome.
I'm listening to Paranoid Android(Hitchhiker's).
Still good, over ten years old now.
That's right folks, we're that old.

"God loves his children yeah...."
\m/
Fuck yeah.
\m/

That's a hand doing the devil horns, for all you squares out there.
If you still don't know what I mean, you're so square you're a cube.

For the record, I never ate my snot in my life, unless I sniffed drugs.

Well, maybe in the winter, as a kid, I'd lick my lips and taste snot, but that's not intentional.

All over the place eh?

"Just 'cause you fell it, doesn't mean it's there"

So true.
*dances in a more holsom manner than devil horns*
Funny though, it is quite sinister.

It's like, a sinister environment puts me at ease.
At least my paranoia is well founded there.
Who am I kidding, I'm a wannabe paranoid.

Don't even say that! You don't want to be paranoid!

Well, you know what I mean, it's glamorous to have a second personality, and handy to blame all your careless deeds on. Which is why I don't subscribe to that line of thinking.

This is me talking to me, typing out my thoughts, for the benefit or entertainment of others. Thinking aloud, or almost.

Outer Monologue.

Fuck, I typed a bunch of great stuff, but I think I lost it.
God damnd drugs and alcohol.
They inspired me, but silenced me.

God, so much lost.
It hurts to think about, tiny tears form in the corners of my eyes.
I best end the post, before I lose this too.
-Marc

Rant until you nod off at the keyboard

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.

Yawning now.

May random find you well.