Getting there

Working.
Once again legally allowed to drive.
Drinking bourbon daily.
Smoking way less weed than I have.
Possible problem with dexedrine, but under control as of now.
Sleeping ok, eating well.
Not on night shifts, w00t!
Thomas starts kindergarten in the fall, oh my heavens.

Michelle's grandmother, not doing to well. She's pretty upset.
It's too bad, she's a pretty cool old lady.

New staff at work.
Linda committed suicide. That was sad too.

Working late now, Jagot has appointments.

Getting there.

2012

Thomas is 18 months old now. I'm living in my parents basement again, with my common-law spouse and our son. I haven't found a job yet. In the last week or two I've hardly been looking. The last job that seemed promising, started at the end of January. I worked one day, was asked to provide fingerprints, and informed it may take 4 to 6 months for the results to come back and I can't work until they do. This after being lied to regarding a one thousand dollar signing bonus which apparently I didn't qualify for. So I left without providing my fingerprints, and have been somewhat wary applying for other positions.

That's just the employment front. Then there's my parents. And my brother. Then we have Michelle. Full plate right now, needless to say. Lots to be done. In fact, I must go now.

May random find you well.

\m/

Quick thoughts

Riot Chasers.
Or maybe Chaos Chasers.

A group of people that make their way in life by looting during riots and selling off their plunder in stable areas. TVs, computers, jewelry, musical instruments("Where do you think I got this guitar that you're hearing today"), drugs, bonds, gold anything of value. They go, loot and stash, then sell off their gains. No SIN card, no medicare, no insurance.

I should learn to hot wire cars. Fuck that would be fun. Just take someones car, drive till the tank is empty, ditch it, make my way home. Or if fictionalized, sell it. Grab another, and keep moving.

More, there was another idea. Possibly the whole plot outline of some twisted tale about god knows what. Heh heh, god knows what.

God knows what?

God knows, what?

heh heh, word play is fun. I'm off to live life. Tonight is a good night. Things have been tough, and I've been irresponsible, but i think it was a good thing. In the long run, maybe even the responsible thing to do. May random find you well.
\m/

My reflection (Dirty mirror?)

In the last year, I have taken probably somewhere in the neighbourhood of a hundred grams of methylenedioxypyrovalerone. I had a number of instances of malnutrition, sleep deprivation, and even near the end a little bit of delusion and paranoia. Those last two could really be a product of the first two, sleep-dep and mal-nu-trep. More like sleep debt actually.

As I became a father last August, I have a baby at home. I know, it sounds bad, but rest assured, my son is fine, no worse for the wear. In fact, by not being hungry, I was able to do without food to make sure he was fed. I stayed awake for four days straight, not for fun, because it is not fun, but so he and his mother could sleep. I would take the night feedings, then go to school or work.

My grades did suffer, but from sleep deprivation, not intoxication. The four days awake in a row ended with a test, which i believe i failed(67% i think, and 75% is a pass). My marks were high enough that my final mark hardly dropped at all, but when i got the test back, i could see clearly that my thinking was definitely altered at the time of taking the test. I remember one question that was something simple, like math, and I answered with a paragraph. Something like this;

"1+1 = Bananas are an excellent source of potassium. Found in trees, they grow in hot climates. Monkey's notoriously love bananas..."

It's not an actual quote, but it was a test about pharmaceutics, and I can't remember the actual question and answer....
blah blah blah you get the idea. Sleep deprived is no way to take a test.

I experienced heart palpitations and headaches when i took too much. Hallucinations, delusions and paranoia after a year doing it, mixing it with some other stuff (2c-x, either b or i, either way, turned a regular day into an x-files episode, but that was just that one time.... heh heh heh). I felt the fear. Cthulhu cultists everyone. Is that the mothership? She's a witch! Well, it's a battle of wills and mirrors eh!

The last time I did it, I had freebased some, and I could here voices in white-noise. Static over the baby monitor(he was in another town), running water, buzzing or humming electronics. I ended up throwing away the rest of my stash, as well as all my toys and trinkets for taking it, weighing it, storing it, selling it, encapsulating it.

I sort of wish I kept some of that stuff. I threw away my stash of other peoples prescriptions that they no longer needed. Along with my salvia, a joint (not for the weed, but because i rolled some mdpv freebase and seroquel in with it). The mdpv, well, scared me. Like when I threw salvia in the ocean or flushed mushrooms down the toilet. This time though, I'm drawn back.

I really like stimulants. The energy, the focus, the certainty. The productiveness! I liked it more when She was preggo still. I don't blame her for my problems, but seeing her get to liking it a little too much was concerning. I still struggle with bouts of paranoia, but I always have as far as I remember. I was like 9 when I had to talk to the guidance counsellor about my fear of ufos. Thank you "Fire in the Sky". It's a movie about Travis Walton, and his alleged abduction. The key thing is, at the start, it said based on a true story. That scared me as a 9 year old.

But as I was getting to; mushrooms and salvia are still scary. A little mushrooms isn't too scary, but still a little. And a lot of shrooms, or any of that salvia I had, that was scary. MDPV is scary, in that I would do a line right now and that scares me. I threw it away when i realized i couldn't remember if I had hurt Her or not. I hadn't, but the fact that I couldn't remember scared me enough to get rid of what I had secretly kept after she asked me to flush it all.

I don't want my life to end like the movie Spun does. Just kind of stops, nothing finished, nothing even really started. Just one less character.

So, guess what, I'm gonna be a parent. (Part 2; )

Well,
Things are moving along quite quickly now. Since I last posted, we heard the heartbeat of our unborn child, which was pretty cool. Healthy, 160 bpm, which is normal for a fetus. Michelle was a little stressed and even had the idea that maybe she wasn't pregnant at all, but had an ovarian tumor that made her miss her period. I pointed out there was much more going on than just the lack of menstruation. So yeah, she knew herself it was a pretty silly concern, but it was still there, nonetheless.

Last weekend I bought a car. It was my first car purchase. I'm twenty five years old, so, I'm a little late in getting around to buying a car. But, I got a pretty good deal, talked the guy down eight hundred bucks, always fun. The registration was cheaper to switch than I thought too, another bonus. Then I smoked a joint with the guy that sold me the car before I dropped him off. He was quite happy about that.

So, we drove to Bathurst this weekend to try it out. The cd player broke the first day, of course, but now I have an excuse to go buy a new fancy one! With a USB input as well as aux, so we can plug in the ipod, or even just a thumbstick. Maybe some speakers too, but I'll see how the new stereo sounds first.

We did our income tax this week too, and it looks like I should be getting a pretty penny. I hope to be able to buy a new computer, as my current laptop is over four years old, and kind of on its last leg. Don't get me wrong, it works fine and all, but it's processor and hard drive and even lack of dvd-burner are becoming annoying. You know, constantly deleting things so you can download new things, and not being able to watch something on one screen and surf the web in the other is a little bit of a hassle. Not to mention the mysterious overheat shutdowns.

I finished my first Math course of the Pharmacy Tech program today. I had a 101% average going in, I hope to maintain that if possible. But, I guess it's no biggie if I end up with a two digit average instead of three. I'm such a nerd. Also at school, we're doing a major review in Medical Science, as we our doing our midterm soon, and our second lab practical exam is tomorrow. March break is next week, so, we're kind of wrapping things up and moving things along to make sure we stay on pace.

The week that we come back after March break, the national pharmacy people are coming to the school to make sure we comply with all the requirements in order to be accredited, so after we finish our course, we just write the national exam to receive "Pharmacy Technician" certification. The teacher needed some volunteers to be in the lab just as a demonstration and to answer questions afterwards. I volunteered, because hey, it's certainly in my best interest for the course to be accredited. Also I'm a fairly knowledgeable member of the class, so, (not to toot my own horn) I would be a good representative for the class. Not the only one, but one of the better ones.

8)

And lastly, I come to my latest news. I recently ordered a research chemical, one that is very similar to ritalin, but more potent. I had thought about this for a few years, but only recently got a credit card, making it much easier to order. I may look at making that into a solution or packing some gelcaps, but it apparently is fairly unstable, so I guess I'll have to do some reading. I hope I don't run into any legal problems with this. I shouldn't as it is an unregulated substance. For now anyway.

Oh! I almost forgot! We made up a batch of pot brownies! With chocolate chips on top, mmmMMMmm, yummy! About one gram per brownie, not as good as the time my neighbour made them with hash, but still pretty excellent. The really do taste good too, like you kinda want to keep eating them, even though you shouldn't.

But yeah, having a car has been a big help for us. We can go do groceries without needing cabs, we can go through the drivethru at fast-food places, and of course, we can drive around, smoke, drink coffee, and listen to music. We got a four door, we're planning ahead. Got a car with decently low mileage as well, want it to last us a bit. Been fun driving to school, no more up at 6am to catch the bus at 7:15.

We've been shopping around for apartments too, as our current dwelling is a little ghetto, and we would prefer ground floor as well, Michelle being pregnant and already having a bad knee, we don't imagine stairs will be much fun this summer when she's about ready to pop.

Michelle has come around quite a bit. She doesn't seem scared, more excited. She's looking at all kinds of decorations and toys and furniture and blankets for babies, it's quite overwhelming really. But I'm just glad she's in better spirits.

She told the doctor she was pretty depressed, and she was prescribed a low dose of a SSRI anti-depressant. I guess it's working, but some of the side effects sort of suck. A lot. Like, for instance, reduced libido. I dunno, I assume it's the pills, because I stopped drinking like two weeks ago, and the sex kinda dried up around the same time. I'm a little concerned that there might be a connection there, but I'm doubtful. Also she's been sleeping like crazy, but that wouldn't bother me as much if she wanted to have sex when she was awake. Even a handjob would be nice.

Ok, perhaps I reveal too much now. But basically, all is well. I'm just a little whiner. We've got lots on the go, and the future is bright. I hope all is well with everyone else out there in the digiverse. May random find you well. \m/

No Vember Thirtieth

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/

Put half the deposit down for schoolin'.

Smoked some grass and felt quite a bit better, more relaxed, less stressed.

My shift wasn't cancelled for tonight, that's nice. I'm working right now as a matter-of-fact. What's more, not one, but three of my old friends contacted me in the last two days. Two of them were hoping to visit me tonight, I don't know if and when we'll get to hang out, because I'm working all weekend, but it was still good to hear from them.

I've still got a bit of a rash from some cheap store brand bandages I bought when my ear was all infected and gross. I picked up some name brand bandages today though, so I should be good. I'd like to pick up my Wii and electric guitar soon, but we have some expenses coming up still. Hopefully, I'll be able to work a few shifts a week and maybe get a half-decent paycheck so m'lady doesn't have to work so much. She's been working like five and six days a week, as opposed to her regular four days on four days off. She works twelve hour shifts too. Days and nights. Fun fun.

So, hopefully I'll be able to carry my own weight again. I keep trying to look for a second job, but the lady discourages it. She says that she doesn't want to see me any less. But I mean, with her working as often as she does, we don't get to see each other that much as is. That's why I'm hoping my current job stops cancelling my shifts, and then she won't have to work so much to cover the bills, and who knows, we may be able to afford to go out now and then. I'd like to get her everything she wants, but right now, we just can't afford it. We're having a hard enough time keeping fed right now.

I must seem fairly boring lately, not a whole lot going on. Reading some Philip K Dick at the moment, ordered some more. Had a Katimavik billeter stay with us for a while, not too much to report there. He told his group that he smoked pot with us, which he didn't but could have if he wanted to. We thought that was odd. He was an odd fellow overall. He would open a new package of something (spaghetti and coffee specifically) rather than finish off the one that is open. In fairness, the coffee was dark roast, and he wanted regular, but still, now I have to use them quickly or they won't be fresh. Also, he took a book without asking. It was funny, Michelle was just going to ask him if he wanted to borrow it, but he was already gone, and had taken the book with him.

He was pretty quiet, and kind of funny. He didn't add too much, but didn't make it hard to be home either. It was kind of nice to be able to pass on some movie, music and video game knowledge as well. He hadn't even seen Fight Club, can you believe it?

My brother had a birthday recently, talked with him about video games and a possible new ghostbusters movie and that sort of thing. He apparently has no interest in getting a job. My girlfriend right calls him a loser, and it sort of makes me feel bad, but I mean, she's kind of right too. I would just probably say he doesn't have his priorities well arranged or something. Loser just seems like such a harsh word.

I mean, he's a loser as opposed to what, a 'cool guy'? What makes someone cool? Wanting a job? I doubt that. But being self-sufficient is pretty cool, so I hear anyway! I guess not even wanting to take care of yourself is kind of lame I suppose. It's a good way to end up still living with your parents at thirty, that's for sure.

I don't know, I guess I'll just get back to work for now, try and stay awake to spend some time with Michelle before sleep. Hopefully I'm able to meet up with one or both of my friends in town this weekend. May random find you well. \m/

It's been a little while now since I've posted anything.
Hasn't been a whole lot to report. Family stuff. Went to a baptism.

But now, I've applied for a Pharmacy Tech course this fall. I mean, I already know most of the stuff I'll be taking first semester, and I'd be happy to learn more about prescriptions and pharmacology in general, so why not eh? I'll be reading about drugs for the rest of my life anyway, I might as well get a certificate to prove it. Plus; I'll get to wear a lab coat.

Not only that, but with the student loans, bursaries, and government incentives available, I may actually get paid to go to school. I may not even need a loan if EI picks up my books and half my tuition, as they supposedly do.

What really prompted this decision though, was not all this common sense stuff I just listed but the financial difficulties we are now facing. By we I mean me and m'lady. This commercial pretty much sums it up;




We can't afford both. Not without borrowing. I shoplifted some cheese yesterday, because I did not have enough for that and a package of store-brand hot dogs. I've been collecting sugar and ketchup packets at restaurants all week, again, because we could not afford to buy sugar and ketchup. This is not fun, and not something I am proud of.



My reserve tobacco bags, that we've been hand-rolling cigarettes from when we run out of tailor-mades, are almost empty. Less than ten cigarettes worth of tobacco remain on reserve. I don't want to have to scour the ground outside of bars for cigarette butts to re-roll at home again, it's been years since I've been that poor, but, I fear it may come that time again soon.



We decided we should take turns going back to school, and being that Michelle earns significantly more than me, and thus it would be easier to live on her wage alone than mine, I will be going to school first. After that, it will be her turn, as I will be making more money, and what's more, I'll be in a secure job sector. Health Care is not going anywhere anytime soon.



Of course, I realize that this poses a potential problem; what if we were to break-up? I would certainly feel obligated to support her through school, as she had/will for me. I do not anticipate that being a problem though, as I love her like crazy, and she too seems quite fond of me.

*** 15 Hours Later ***

I stopped mid-post yesterday because Michelle came home and was sitting beside me, and I prefer to 'blog' solo. I feel like a geek, but whatever, I am, so it's all good.

I had a dream last night, I came out to the kitchen, and there were only three or four slices of bread left from a loaf that I knew had been a full loaf when I last saw it. I think I may have been sleeping, but I didn't have to get dressed, so maybe napping(in my dream I mean) is more accurate. My Uncle Harry was there, I believe with someone else, perhaps a lady, I believe they were talking politely, with the radio playing quietly, and possibly it was sunny. I was at my parent's house, I could tell from the kitchen, but it seemed odd somehow. My Uncle seemed more spry than he actually is.

In the dream, I got upset with him a bit, not because he used so much bread, but because he had used my favourite, the end piece. There was one left, and when I started whining, he offered it to me, saying something like, "I was going to use it for a hamburger bun, but you can have it if you want". I realized immediately in my dream even, what a whiner I was, and told him to use it himself.

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to try some over-the-counter natural ADD supplements, mostly Omega-3 fish oil stuff, and I must say, I am quite impressed with the results. There was one point where I was deep in thought, and I could see somewhere else, like a really vivid daydream. I was sort of hot and cold, not unlike other cognitive enhancers. I wasn't grinding my teeth or anything, I just took the recommended dosage though. I wasn't too hungry at supper-time, but after a while my appetite came back.

I was surprised at how well my memory seemed to be working. It was a little overwhelming in fact, I went to lie down for a bit to try and relax. I told m'lady at one point that it felt like part of me that had been asleep was waking up. It seems a little corny or ridiculous now, but it seemed pretty accurate at the time. I took two yesterday, and I just took one now, I'm curious to see if it still has a noticeable effect. I was quite surprised at how much my mind seemed to be racing, considering these are specifically marketed to treat children, but I suppose, my mind my have been lagging as of late. I did sort of feel like a kid again. Weird.

Overall, I'm pretty optimistic. We're going to have some troubles paying rent, and I don't know what the landlord is going to think about that, but we will deal with that as it comes up. I should probably get to applying for student loans and provincial bursaries if I'm to get any. I will look into that later, as I should be finding out today if I was accepted into the course or not. My marks shouldn't be a problem, and I think I did well in the interview, so I'm not too worried about getting accepted. Wish me luck though.

I'll be back in the future, and may random find you well.
\m/

Funny, but fucked up too.

Anxious. Seeing shadows, like tracers but reflections of the actual instead of a visual echo. Intermittent. The benadryl I took? The coffees I drank earlier? I am on my third drink containing Green Dragon. The project has been a success. The product does taste strongly of the additive. A higher quality additive would likely yield an even better result. I look forward to repeating this.

I called that lady-friend of mine. We spoke for a while. It was alright. I don't think I said anything offensive or acted too weirdly. We're supposed to hang-out some around the holidays. Let's hope I don't flake out. I did talk about video games a bit, like, I said something about how I don't like the phone ringing while I'm playing video games. She made a sarcastic comment, I followed suit, we laughed. Like all is well, but don't be hooked on the machine there. Which is reasonable I suppose.

Talked about a band from our hometown, she felt the same way I did about their music without my prompting her. That was kinda cool.

Not sleeping much lately. Anxiety related, thin curtains don't help much either. Staying up too late as well. Sleep debt might be making me feel bad. Can't help.

I remember one time I stayed awake for two or three days drinking coffee and pepsi. I went for a walk the second night, and everything seemed to be shrouded in thick fog. I couldn't see the end of the street I was on the fog was so dense. Things may also have been shiny, covered in frost, but that may be a false memory. Anyway, when I came in, I asked my roommates about the fog, and they looked at me funny and asked "What fog?". I figured it was probably about time to get to sleep then.

That was a strange time in my life. After I had a particularly bad idea, I woke up in the hospital unable to speak at a normal rate. It was like I was a skipping cd almost. Like I'd have to stutter through everything I said. This lasted an hour or two. I went home to sleep as soon as I was able to.

After 6 hours of sleep or so, I woke up, glad to be alive, and back to normal(or so I thought). I could now speak at a normal rate once again, and being that it was Halloween, I headed out to the liquor store with my roommates for the start of the night's festivities.

Over the next three days. I met a homeless person, who offered me a dorito. I ate it, though I do not like doritos, as he had just told me about stabbing a guy who tried to take his sleeping spot. I also was walking trying to figure out if I was alive or dead, and what should I see? A dead fox. I think it was a fox, maybe a raccoon or something similar. Anyway, it was dead right in the middle of the sidewalk. It must have been hit by a car or something, as it looked like it had hit the sidewalk pretty hard. I remember walking, being unsure if I was in some sort of coma dream, if the hospital really just sends you on your way after a crazy possible od with no instructions or anything. Not even a 'take it easy for a few days'. And I almost walked on this dead animal. And I had to stop in my tracks for a second and kind of gape. It was like this;
"So, you think you're dead eh? Well, I'll show you dead" *cue carcass* "There, that's dead. See? You're not like that fucker now are you? Now get to living and stop peering into the void that is your blackout. Somethings are blacked out for a good reason." And so, I went on my way.

Every time I try and really figure out the details of what happened, I end up blacking out again, with another mystery to solve. It's frightening. So, I try to just accept that I am alive, as I seem to be, try not to worry about the past, as it's over, and I can't change it, but also learn from it, even if you don't remember. How do you do that you ask? Hopefully, your subconscious retained the necessary information for you to benefit from your experiences, regardless of whether or not you remember them, and is able to relay that information to you through intuition or gut feelings.

I made something up today, and my lady-friend said, well, you learn something knew everyday. I had a flash like, everything was once a thought or idea, and the person that first had the thought figured it was just and idea, just something they came up with. Not a piece of vital information that would change history. Like the first guy that suggested maybe the earth goes around the sun. Everyone had a good laugh, except for one person in the room, who was like; "That's it! Eureka!". Like in fight club, when Bob dies, and the narrator says that his name was Robert Paulson, and then the whole idea gets taken out of hand to mean something totally different than intended. Probably why Kurt Cobain killed himself. It was just too much attention. Like you can't shit profundity. If you watch anyone long enough, you will find things to scrutinize. But if you love them too much, you perhaps let these things slide, even glorify them. Like when you tell stories that make you laugh sometimes, but make you sad others. Like it's funny, but it's fucked up too. That's life I guess.

goooooood morning! (Don't read if eating)

"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/

drunk-talk, stream-of-thought

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.

May random find you well.
\m/

drunk-talk

I feel so full of potential
I'm afraid to admit it
But I'm some pretty hot-shit

It's like, I can feel there is something within me
Some greatness, I don't know yet if it's a song or a story,
or just some deed

But I feel it.

I get down on myself, because I seem to be at a standstill.
Not advancing toward my higher purpose, possibly procreation.
Who knows, maybe it's an assassination.

Here I write
And I hope someday I might
write something worth reading
and even verbally repeating

something that rings true
and makes you feel alive
something that gives insight
a reason to survive

I dig deep and keep on moving
ever forward through the storm
to find and light the future's path
elevating the norm

my self i use and sacrifice
i am such a useful device
the time I'm given, I must use well
to hold at bay, the horrors of hell

the service (You never know)

I've been getting headaches lately.
Probably to do with excessive benadryl consumption over a long period of time.
Drying out my sinuses and such.

I've been experiencing a sense of deja vu more often than normal as of late.
Often, television is central in the sensation.
Am I really repeating conversations?
Or, could it be something more fun, namely precognitive dreams.

A weird dreamy feeling, like you know what's coming.
That's how I'd describe deja vu.
But, with the amount of marijuana I consume, perhaps simple forgetfulness is more likely.

I much prefer the epiphany feeling, like a pattern suddenly emerging from seemingly random data. Staring at a puzzle until, suddenly, the pieces fit. What's more, fitted together, the seemingly insignificant puzzle pieces form a coherent whole, greater than the some of the parts.

Either feeling, though, can leave you depersonalized. If you are helplessly repeating yourself, or simply a cog in a greater machine, then how can you be free? You must be following a set of predetermined or higher-order instructions. Instructions normally hidden from you, to keep you blindly serving the great unknown forces. If you know your every action serves a greater being, then you know you are essentially a servant.

But who do you serve? Do you receive payment? Is life the payment? Can you negotiate a raise?

Anyway you look at it, you don't want to be disappointing the boss. Is this what Dylan meant by "...you're gonna have to serve somebody"? Disparaging to think of your life as payment for work you didn't know you were doing. You could be shortchanged, and you might never know.

And thus, we have reached the end of the line for this thought train. You never know.

thinking in circles

I can see myself easily falling into a routine.
Wakeup eat breakfast shower shave brush floss.
Go for a run read the paper have a coffee do the crossword.
Work from home log a few hours.
Coffee on breaks, friendly sunshine chit-chat.

I take a walk before supper, resupply, buy some food,
booze, smokes, or drugs. Go to the library, rent a movie.
Come home, make supper, relax for a bit. Watch tv.

Do dishes, tidy up, maybe do laundry.
Work more if feeling productive.
Then, consume substances, watch movie, or read.
Listen to music, write, draw, play video games.
Surf the net, watch old cartoons, cook crazy snacks.

Yawn, sleep bed, repeat.
Occasional resupply of clothing or cooking materials.
Cleaning products, new shoes, new mop, new towels,
new bedding.

Over time, upgrade furniture and appliances. HDTV.
Plasma screen. Exercise machine. Bigger apartement.
Keep up with cell phones and computers. Fancy deep frier.

Then what? Get a car, work more, bigger place, work more.
Fun hobbies, expensive, work more. Investment, more stress,
more substances, more money, more work.

So, wanting to be left to my own devices may prove unwise.
I may while away my time here, gathering anecdotes for
occasional encounters with old friends and interesting strangers.

But hearing it like that, doesn't actually sound too bad.
Just that something's missing, as though I'd be waiting for something.
Or someone.

Job upgrades could cover potential dependents i suppose.
But the stress of changing jobs, looking for work. Wondering how
long I'll last. How long until I slip up or this place just gets to me.

I want to be able to be alone, but I also want to be able to consult with
others to share ideas and to stay in touch with reality. I want to be alone
so I can think and concentrate on matters which may be trivial or frightening.

I'm probably full of shit. I dunno, maybe I just want some friends I trust.
Maybe I want to...

"..See I've lost my way..."
-Cicatriz ESP

ESP indeed.

I don't know what I want. I want to though.

Maybe I want some interesting problems to deal with.
Like time, and space.

Lofty aspirations.

I'd like to not have to work.
Not login and dial a few hours.
I'd rather work on a project.
Complete it, submit it, and tour around showcasing it.
Then enjoy a period of financial security.
And repeat.

Sounds simple enough.
Can't do it.

Both? Neither?

I'll live long and die young.
I'll work hard and hardly work.

Cryptic ramblings of no practical value.
True or not.

Reality unwound.

Thoughts on Life

So bored I could die.
Well not really.
Thinking of the line from Go With The Flow
"I want something good to die for, to make it beautiful to live"
but of course the next line is
"I want a new mistake, losers more than hesitate"
so it's like, fuck, i have been more than hesitating.
But I do want something good to die for, at least I think so.

Maybe I'm stuck on the psychedelic thought-manifestation trip
So, what is worth dying for if it can all be recreated using thought?
Nothing, right?

Nothing is worth dying over?

But what if you can rethink yourself back into existence after you die,
then wouldn't there be no reason to try and live?

Too many paradoxes.

Maybe I just want too much.
Probably based on my drug use. Over-stimulation leaves you bored by reg-stim.

But didn't I start using drugs because i was bored?
Hard to say now. I thought hindsight was 20/20. That amuses me.

Brain Vomit

what is my deal anyway?
I can't figure out if I want to be an unknown hermit or a famous, i dunno, something.
Do i need recognition?
I don't know anyone else quite like me.
I'm a paranoid drug addict
I feel wasted(not in the fun way, like unused or misspent)
I worry that my health deteriorates
There is a good chance i will die with unfinished business
I guess knowing that helps

I'm pissed off about half the time, the other half I'm depressed(Fear and Loathing?)
I wish i knew more clearly what i want from life

If I ever get rich, I'm going to hire a personal dental hygienist to floss me every day
I'd like a house someday, with a yard
Or at least a car big enough to sleep in
Fuck it

You see, that gets me
Money IS the root of all evil
It has me chasing a bunch of shit I don't need.
"The things you own end up owning you"
to quote a friend of mine

I feel like I never really say what I'm thinking
Maybe when I'm drunk and on serious uppers
Even then, I open my mouth to speak, but my feet immediately take residence in my mouth
Which leads to avoiding people

I don't remember ever getting laid

there I said it, fuck

Now, I'm getting older, expectations are getting higher,
And I'm still stuck in middle school
Sexually anyway

So, I avoid potentially embarrassing situations
Unless I'm drunk, then I hit on my friend's girlfriend
which makes me hate myself a little
I guess I'm not really that good of a friend

I hate my job
I hate my life
I hate what I have become
I hate myself for not becoming what i could have

and it's "na-na-na-na-na-na-na nooooooooo- body's fault but mine"

How did I end up so different?
I started out in the usual way
I did the usual things
I guess I'm only fooling myself
I am the nerd, through and through

Everyone I see looks unhappy to me
I wish i could help them, but I can't even make myself happy

I don't need unlimited resources
I don't need a car
I don't need video games, CDs, DVDs, my guitars or my laptop
I don't need coffee, cigarettes, booze, weed, pills or powders
I don't need a degree
I don't need a house
I don't need fame and distinction

I need food, water, and air
That's it, that's all
Everything else is gravy

I should purge myself of my possessions
Give away or sell my stuff
Hit the road with a backpack full of clothes, and see where the wind carries me
It's just so cold

fuckit, maybe i should go see a doctor and get a script for Valium or something
just chill the fuck out and go with the flow
keep working, pay down the credit line
and then....
fuck, that's no good either

exist to continue existing
circular logic if ever there was

"I want something good to die for, to make it beautiful to live"
-QotSA "Go With the Flow"

Is that so much to ask?
Perhaps I already have/know things worth dying for,
and I'm just so shit-scared to get burned by Big Brother, the Illuminati, or God
that I let it fade

Is the search for meaning a meaning in itself?

Maybe the belief that a higher meaning exists is bad
It would certainly taint the everyday joys, rendering them meaningless in the 'Big Picture'
Is there even a Big Picture, or just an infinite amount of small pictures with no consensus reality?

This is why I never say what's really on my mind
These questions have no easy answers
So, I'll go about my day, keeping my head down and my mouth shut as much as possible
Only occasionally surfacing to rant and rave
But I grow weary of this foolish dance