Posts tagged death

luck

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I don’t like to depend on “luck” as we call it, or think we know it.  I live in Las Vegas, and I don’t really enjoy or feel compelled to gamble.  It’s really ironic to move nearly 2000 miles from Louisiana to Las Vegas and not want to gamble.

I blame it on my cheapness, and my weak but solid knowledge of math, statistics, and odds.  I make one assumption when I walk into one of those massive super store type casinos.  The odds are in the house’s favor.  Beyond that, I realize that any money lost would be a natural consequence for betting against that house.

The cheapskate trait that I have noticed most of my life comes in when I realize all the things I could do with money rather than gamble it away through some lottery or machine.  I also make subtle calculations on how much money I would lose over time if I continued with a regular gambling habit that seemed small.

As cheap as I am, and as aware of odds as I am, I still smoked cigarettes for a few decades on and off.  I had managed to quit before, for over a year, but something would eventually trigger me into going back to it.  I’m only at day 17 and I’m acting like I have beat smoking already, but I am used to using patches and now there is the “emergency e-cig” too.

After just a few weeks, I’m already having dreams about smoking, but instead of fulfilling a fantasy of wanting to smoke in those dreams, they are more like nightmares, because of the feeling of disappointment after taking that first drag on the “dream cigarette”.

I have been in some kind of inner conflict for the longest about if luck is something that really exists, or if an old cliche’ is true about the more you work towards a goal, the more luck you happen to run into.  I don’t test my luck in a casino because just like the psychics like to say “it doesn’t work that way.”

venus von willendorf statue, goddess or first porn model, feedee, and gainer

venus von willendorf statue, goddess or first porn model, feedee, and gainer

When I consider where I am right now, and how things are going, I am forced to remember what it was like when things were so different, and I was so different.  My “growth” was hindered by the abuse of just one drug, alcohol, for months at a time, and I didn’t seem to grasp the seriousness of the situation I was placing myself in.

Now, I have only taken a baby step towards being somewhat “fixed” in quitting smoking.  That is just one little habit in a long line of impulsive behavior I have to gain control over.  In quitting smoking, I have given myself another level of confidence in what I can achieve when I put my mind to it.

The truth is, I was merely procrastinating from quitting smoking because the withdrawal is such a bitch.  I would have done it long ago, as I have a few times before, but I just didn’t feel like the hassle of a few weeks in first world misery.  Once I started using expressions like “first world” more often, I started to realize the arrogance of this concern over such a minor inconvenience.

I was only so “lucky” to get to smoke in the first place because I had the extra income to blow nearly $200 a month on the drug that would probably end up killing me eventually.  It seems so simple, when you think of the assumed logical equation of smoking = death.  Maybe people who smoke have a death wish.  Maybe people who eat themselves up to nearly or over 500lbs also have a similar wish, but it has been modified to abuse a substance that provides life.  Food.

 

I don’t usually post music videos, but I had to give credit to what I chose to listen to while I attempt to finish this blob post without hitting 5000 words, but then again, there is no way I can predict where my stream of consciousness writing will go.

I’m only 2 weeks into quitting smoking, but I already know I will be successful, because I have been reminded in what could be called a “nightmare” that I have to quit, “right now” apparently.  There is some sense of synchronicity in this realization, because Candy experiences such breathing difficulty that she is on 2 different medications now.

I never smoked inside after Candy quit smoking, I started smoking outside before Candy ever quit actually.  I made it a habit, because I always knew I would quit smoking, and I didn’t want my apartment and everything in it to be polluted with that horrible smell after I quit.

After I quit for just a week, i started to experience my true sense of smell again as well.  Now I can taste better, and I can detect so many things in the air around me with a sense that had been dulled for years by this dreadful habit.

I can detect a female that is heavily “scented” from quite a distance.  I can also detect when someone is smoking a cigarette in a very wide area.  I can smell someone close to me and know if they are an alcoholic, or a smoker, or a pot smoker, or a crackhead.

With that realization alone, I am motivated to stay far away from inhaling burning matter on purpose, except for weed of course.  I went to the trouble of getting a card at the DMV from the state of Nevada to get legal permission to smoke fucking weed.  What a rigmarole.

medical marijuana card nevada

i got my medical marijuana card!

I might be “lucky” to have quit smoking when I did, or in the long timeline, it’s already too late and the real tragedy is that I don’t even know it.  Either way, I’ll take a higher quality of life while it is granted to this old, abused body.  I am still trying to become more “enlightened” even though I realize that because of my age and my old ways, it will be much more difficult than a much younger version of me.

There was really no way to break through to younger me though, as it is, I didn’t become a full fledged alcoholic until after hitting 40, and I am already backtracking at 46.  When I gain control over alcohol though, I won’t need to abstain, I will just use it sparingly when the desire arises to reconnect with this aggravating part of myself.

I have had access to more pharmaceuticals than I can pronounce, and I don’t abuse those at all.  I know where that road goes, I chose to start using alcohol when I already knew how fucking serious it was and dangerous that particular compulsion can be to people like myself who have issues with impulse control and procrastination and anxiety and depression.

I lost so much while I chose to experiment with alcohol.  Candy didn’t even know the full extent of her ability to emotionally disconnect and withdraw when exposed to a “typical alcoholic”.  She had family issues going way back with alcoholism, and me being “that guy” brought her back to a family situation that she fled from as a mere child.  There was no way she would tolerate that behavior from me.

I don’t think it’s too late for me though, I started reading “Be Here Now” and it gave me an insight and perception that I had not thought of or realized for a very long time.  It was like reading that first Dianetics book and realizing that there were a lot of statements in there that I “knew already but never thought of in that way.”

I realized as I was reading Be Here Now by Ram Dass how similar his ability to recall things everyone already kind of knows in a different way is to L Ron Hubbard.  The severe difference is that L Ron Hubbard doesn’t write from the perspective of someone who has done LSD.

Ram Dass also traveled India extensively and met with many gurus who made a profound impact on his perception of this reality.  The influence of being on LSD a lot of the time could have impacted or biased that experience, but when you think about it, it would bias it in exactly the direction he was meant to go.

Be here now is all about figuring out the simple truth that you are exactly where you are supposed to be at any given time, given your desire to either find enlightenment or hide from it.

Everyone is on a path, and some people ride that path with blinders on, protecting them from seeing the potential branches that they could take which would change their lives for the better, forever.

I have used “drugs” to open my perception beyond what my bias and upbringing and limited education would allow.  I have expanded the very experience of my reality by opening my mind up to alternate states of consciousness.

People who are all like “drugs, ew” are so “white and uptight” that it kills me.  I can easily see why so many Caucasians will reject the race that they happened to be assigned at birth in favor of one that isn’t so fucking uptight!

I have spent a great deal of time in waiting rooms, getting the much needed and neglected medical attention for myself and “The Candy” simply because the opportunity was provided by this thing “Obamacare” that so many “fake conservatives” are all worked up over.  I dread another “republican in name only” getting into office to destroy any chance I have to get medical care while at the same time creating a moral panic over “obscenity” to appeal to the religious right. 🙁

I have read a great deal of spiritual material in those waiting rooms, and I feel that I am very very far from total enlightenment, but even the very first step towards it is enthralling, exhilarating, and beautiful.

I have realized that no matter who I was, or have been, there is room in my heart for change, for the better.

I know that no matter what beliefs I have stubbornly held onto in the past, I can see the “big picture” just a little clearer now.  I know that my dependence on any substance has been some kind of false idol that I worship and make sacrifice to in order to maintain my personal status quo of procrastination.

If the first step in solving a problem is admitting there is a problem.  I passed that little nugget of self awareness months, if not years ago.  I just needed a reason to grow emotionally.  I needed to find hope and salvation in the potential of a future I really wanted in order to make myself prepared and available for that future to occur in this reality.

Now, as I take the baby step of quitting smoking, I realize that there is something in my distant future that requires and demands that little positive change in order to allow a chain of events to occur.  I am thinking of time a little differently now.  Instead of thinking of time on a straight line, I can see how the present intersects with the future due to consequence in ways that I could not see or did not want to see before.

The simple act of quitting smoking has caused me to begin to realize a whole set of new future realities, that never would have occurred to me without having had the experiences I have had, good and bad.

If I had not gone through so much bad shit, I would not have had the motivation or inspiration to continue to get better, and continue to grow spiritually.  When I say grow spiritually, do not confuse that with the whole fucked up and contradictory phenomenon known as “religion”.

They are not the same, and can’t be, because current mainstream eastern religion inhibits personal growth by keeping women down and restricting sexual behavior.  It will always seem back woods and “redneck”.  Just look at any given argument against “same sex marriage”.

I have to laugh when I see what bigoted fools the highly reverent and religious are making of themselves to this current, slightly more enlightened generation.

Maybe I am so lucky, because while in one of my altered states of consciousness, I had this crazy idea of leaving everything I knew so well to travel west and land in allegedly fabulous Las Vegas.  I followed some sense of what I know will happen in the future.  I know that Louisiana will be one of the very last hold outs to legalizing marijuana.

I know that as voters turn down medical marijuana in the deep southern state of Florida, voters in Nevada approved medical marijuana over a decade ago, but the state of Nevada is pussyfooting around because they are so scared of being hassled over “gaming”.  Dicks.

I think that I realize just how lucky I am, to have moved to where I did, just when I did, and follow a highly disciplined regimen of living on next to nothing for over 3 years.  It sounds totally crazy, even to me, but I seem to know what’s coming, and I am planning every step of the way before I even realize what I am planning for.

Everything just happens as it is supposed to.  I take limited risks in tiny micro social environments, and I create an outcome that I really want.  I am faced with a challenge larger than I have ever attempted in all my life in the future.  I have to make everything exactly the way I want it, in a way that is even more perfect than I have set it up in the present.  The scary part is, I know I am capable of doing it, and it will be done.

I am just that lucky. 🙂

trollgasm

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Oh shit.  I’m actually fucking going to write in this thing sober?  What the fuck???

Well, the drunk asshole came out, finally, bitching and complaining about being here for eight months without very much social interaction or interest on either of our parts in making it happen.  Candy would have reminded me over and over since getting here not to lean on anyone else for anything I want.  She had to drag me back to reality by stating that I didn’t realize how fucked up I was, and what I was doing.  I wish I could have kept momentum and set it all up as planned, without getting so freaking lazy, only to freak out after months of inactivity like I just blinked back into my body after a long vacation.  There is a stress hanging over us, the stress of knowing we could give something up, but how it sucks having to really do it, because we suck so bad at it (being drug addicts).  She tried to tell me there was a time and a place for that shit, and dealing with these interactive social organizations would not help me to get what I want in the long run.  Trying to even use facebook for any “real purpose” would be a mistake in the long run.  I was just curious, but this drunk troll fucker knows something I don’t and he put a quick stop to it for whatever reason…

I am guessing that’s why this last time I went over a week without drinking and then downed a whole six pack in about 15 minutes, I totally went the fuck off on a few Las Vegas bbw specific groups… Man… I don’t even remember most of it, but I do remember finding out that I had gotten kicked from at least one group.  Most wouldn’t guess, but it surprised the shit out of me that “drunk asshole” didn’t make a “clean sweep” and get “me” booted out of “all of them”….  After all, the even weirder drunk persona probably referred to “the group” as “the facebook group”, not any specific “category” of social interaction.  A push, after several attempts to stay off facebook for weeks at a time, to finally just do away with it.  But…  There is no telling what the response would be to “complete” invisibility.

Maybe being invisible again is what I need to go back to doing what I have an opportunity to do but haven’t, because I’m so preoccupied with time, geography, and finding the right “alternate” drug of choice when I’m not supposed to have it here, but I can have it over there.

Remove all connections to Las Vegas, maybe even pushing myself to deal with fucking snow so I could get 420 without having to depend on ANYFUCKINGBODY at all whatsoever…  It’s what a part of me wants to happen anyway, so I couldn’t resist getting loaded and flipping the bird at everyone around me in visual range as I plot out the next “place” and have that additional emotional “umph” behind it, having myself feel almost pushed out instead of choosing to leave.  🙂  I am a user on a level that most people don’t even fucking know because so many of them are so fucking ignorant as I am to the true nature or value in this ability or inability.  I have cash though, so the arrogant part of me thinks it’s fine as long as I grease the right palms, if they get that close without fear of biting.  🙂  The problem is, I know how vastly different snow climate is, in all kinds of fucked up ways, and I never wanted it.  I seem to occasionally need great pushes of energy to force me into doing shit I don’t want to do for the sake of getting what I want, just like every fucking body else. 🙂

Candy assures me Seattle is more rainy than snowy.  That’s awesome.  Dry was so fucking cool though, dishes dried fast, wiping up spills was faster, let’s go back to humid, with cold periods…  But mountains and rain.  Awesome.  Let’s just “go for it”… See, that’s what I mean… Vegas actually had much better weather, although, it would occasionally rain and flood the piss out of just one area leaving everything else ok.  If it starts running low on water I’m sure that is going to be a big hassle too.  I think a part of me almost wishes for the degree of isolation that long cold periods would bring, and the necessity for planning ahead while keeping an eye on the weather.  I also believe that I could find a niche where I fit in that has absolutely nothing to do with a sexual preference.

I wrote out some big long blog post in the blog at exotic right before getting the beer, and I am surprised at the way in which the drunk asshole living deep in my head would have used the shit I wrote against me.  At some point in that blog post, I had said something about Las Vegas people being anti-social because of how most people here are fucking scum bag con artists, so people have to be really careful about where they go, what they do, and who they hang out with.  The truth was that I was being “socially” lazy, in every way, and now that I get some energy I just explode so the negativity can be “flushed”, and I can further push myself to do what I want to do deep down.  It’s going to be an immense pain in the ass though.    Moving, and a fucking snow climate to top it off…  Yeah, sit around being a lazy fuck for eight months and then freak out and move again… Real smooth.. ROFLMAO

It’s kind of sad, how the troll inside of me seems to use “everyone” to get some emotional response.  Candy wasn’t joking when she put up that emotional vampire meme, she may have seen some kind of freak out coming.  Shit, some of my facebook posts in the days before the drunk escapades I fucking talked about “going crazy” and needing an emotional outlet for my frustration…  She held up, but it’s not like it helped her general state of mind.  She had to see me getting loaded and pushing out all the negative emotional shit that built up over an amount of time that was probably more significant than I knew as it was happening.   What a fucked up coping mechanism…  That’s what drugs are for.  Except, I can get prozac or hydroxyzine but not thc.  I can, however, get a legal analog cannabinoid receptor agonist, right across the street, called “spice”.

When I analyze what I can remember about my latest outburst, I realize that I am in fact the “anti social” one.  A part of me seems to actually like it too, enjoying my bad behavior to the maximum possible degree.  Most of the time I would feel a little guilty or ashamed or at least sorry about what I had done, but this time was different.  This time I could break down my behavior in an effort to put the puzzle pieces together that some hidden part of my mind shuffled up on the table that is my brain.  This time, at least a small part of it may have been “necessary” for the general purposes of exploring my “mental illness” while intoxicated.  The change that happened 4 months after the move here was reactivating in my head 4 more months down the line.  Now I “only have” 4 months to get off my ass, really go through shit, throw %50 away, and seriously plan the next weird ass move.  I’m so fucking conflicted.  The pros and cons are not so simple.  I’m grateful I can afford to just pick up and go, I know that this place has serious issues going on because it’s so tourism connected in the areas that it is.  I try to rationalize that the crime potential is actually lower than Baton Rouge, but it doesn’t always feel that way when you see the shit going down every time I’m out there.

Who am I?  I’ve said that more than once, it’s a running theme in my writing and even in my behavior on that stupid fucking site facebook.  It seems like I don’t really like facebook as much as I like to “fuck with people online”.  Again, a reason I was trying to cut it out for a while, and now I will be even more “inspired” to do so. 🙂  I think that I make a terrible troll, but the problem is, the troll side of my personality doesn’t have any fucking “strategy” in his fucking game… Maybe he does and “I” just don’t know it yet…  Maybe “he” really is trying to help me get to the bottom of what I really want, knowing that Vegas was cheap and positioned “in between” several alternatives, but not meant to stay in too long…  It is very fucking dangerous.  I mean, Baton Rouge wasn’t a fucking picnic by any means, especially with the New Orleans migration after Katrina, but this place is absolutely fucking crazy with cops and shit going on.  A part of me is trying to evolve to fit in emotionally with this geography and it is obviously fucking with me because of what I see in the very little time that I venture outside.

Four months after moving to Las Vegas, the voters of CO and WA decided to legalize weed.  This came after I spent at least 2000 on the move, and put myself in a typically shitty cheap Las Vegas neighborhood.  I went to so much time, trouble, effort, and expense to do this.  I should have known a part of my brain would literally freak out the moment I saw reports and read articles about what those two states had done, after what I had done.  According to the direction my rage took recently, drunk me took offense with a perception of people with shit to sell, trying to make their money, do their little fucking hustle, saying anything and everything to anyone who shows the slightest interest because each individual might add a few more dollars to someone’s little haul.  They don’t know how potentially fucked up the rabid animal is in that cage before they rattle it for loose change. 🙂

Rational me can totally support everything they do, and even hope that they find success in whatever they are trying to accomplish.  The one delusion that drunk me would assume and focus on was that they were kind of “baiting”.  They were not freaking baiting!  They were being “nice” and I’m an asshole while intoxicated at specific blood level alcohol, which I should have already been equipped to test regularly during a “binge period”.  🙂  attention attenion attention, yom yom yom… she eats food, i eat energy, positive or negative…  By that, I mean this thing that has happened to me over and over with the passage of time, especially since that first major break up, where if I go past a certain point, in absolute laziness, I push myself to a point of necessity.

This time Candy was kind of freaking out in two ways, maybe it was a strategy to distract her from already “drinking without warning”.  I never think it’s a big deal every time it happens, but she almost breaks down crying at times saying that “Nobody has done shit to you and your such a dick”  Then that conceited, arrogant, condescending side of me comes out again and says “it’s what they haven’t fucking done for me.”  LOL that guy is a dick, but I think I need him for strength this time.  I almost totally lost my shit when I found out CO and WA both legalized after I moved into this fucking shit hole.  OMFG I felt like “the biggest loser” because I know vegas is fucked up because I have actually lived here before.  It got even fucking worse since last time too!  See, that’s sad, I chose… well, she chose I agreed, but I didn’t want snow…  yeah, that drunk guy keeps rolling that around forever, even as he knows his time is limited because it’s going to be sobriety land because i am working hard to prevent any delay in my own procrastination by actually being successful online with the ‘facebook group’.  So inappropriate.   🙂

I try to explain to Candy that the part of my brain that enjoys trolling so much, even if he sucks hard at it, or maybe not, seems to have a real egotistical issue about wanting to be “known”, even if he is “hated” in some circles (simple attention whore).  In fact, I woke up with a thought rolling around in my mind about how the troll inside of me knows that me, as a person, is not very “likable, interesting, or charismatic” so he would rather take the easier route and accept dislike over mediocre, flighty, not very beneficial indifference going upwards to the level of offers on the fly.  Maybe that part of my brain has such a disorder that he’s like “Thomas motherfucking Obesiverse was fucking here motherfuckers!!!  Now suck it!!!”  I know, it’s horrible, but it’s drunk me.  I didn’t stop him, but then again, I wasn’t able to test blood alcohol, and i think, no i just stopped spice too…. damn that shit is scary.

I’m sure a lot of people have a strong ego, but mine has been fucked with in ways that I probably could not afford the psychological evaluation to figure out.  🙂 I am extraordinarily lucky and fortunate, as I seem to want to write all of the time, in an effort to remind myself of how lucky I am and how good I’ve got it, even as a part of me dwells way too heavily on just one little thing that I want but can’t have.

That seemingly unobtainable thing is supposed to be there, because deep down, you know that you observe not having it as “uncomfortable”, even as you do not realize one potential alternate reality where it was easy to get that one thing, but something else is fucked up in ways that made you wish you could trade one reality for another “in a heartbeat”.

On another note, before I forget, I had a major deja vu that would not have been possible if it weren’t for the use of “salvia” about 2 months ago plus the major episode of drunk douche bag recently.  I uttered something going into a short trip, and that shit came true.  Then again, I made it come true… was the trolling predicted?  or did I troll because I had this one vision 2 months ago and it tried to express itself while i was intoxicated to prevent future events from occurring?  Was it necessary for some reason that is actually external to me or my level of observation?  🙂  Never know now, or maybe I already do.  🙂

Maybe some really fucked up shit might have happened if I let myself go without her. Probably not, but maybe so.. 🙂  lol  I would not drink anyway, because drinking is strictly prohibited for me not only while driving, but while being “social”, or even attempting to be online.  The recent behavior is also an illustration why I would not be drinking in bars, because instead of pissing off a few people online I would be getting arrested in real life.  Maybe I had to give them a taste to see if they could handle it, since it is a bar thing. 🙂

It’s like I get off on being denied that one thing for months, and then I have a weak moment and freak out because I am not letting myself do EVERYTHING possible to get it.  Then, the asshole side of my personality raises difficulty on “me” even more by totally burning the bridges of “maybe” for the relief of “pulling off the band aid” and getting a “fuck you” along with a “no”… lol  Then all the “fake concern” will stop (evil smile wringing hands), maybe even an effort of “divide and conquer“…. LOL  these people have no fucking idea of how weird i really am or “who” they are dealing with, because I don’t even know myself all the time

I really don’t hold it against them, but playing it any further on either side might not be as fun if I take responsibility for being wrong.  It really would be too soon to even try, because now I don’t want anyone to think I was being nice for my own benefit, because even as a self centered jerk, it doesn’t benefit me to fake it.  It’s better to be cleared out and then do it, to show that it wasn’t really them, it was my need to kick myself in the balls for a while.   It’s so irrelevant in the “big picture”, that I know I’m wrong, and I know that no matter what I say or do, I am sharing the same cosmic mental energy with each and every living being on this planet at this time.  They already call it “drama”, so again, drunk fuckers must do it all the time.  🙂

The sad thing is that I could really get herb by trying repeatedly off craigslist, even willing to lose money getting ripped off or take chances with “safety”, but a part of me would end up denying myself for a period of time and actually give one specific “group” of people (later realized the entirity of the facebook group in and of itself on my side or “profile”) 8 months to do just one small favor, that I would pay them for. 🙂 If they failed (of course they would fail, i didn’t work it right), it would give a horrible, resentful part of myself a reason to tell them all to fuck off, only upsetting Candy and saving myself a tiny amount of cash in the process… 🙂  omfg  no way…

It’s more like saving time, saving the gas to go anywhere, and saving myself from the headache of sitting around in a bar for hours and feeling too awkward to talk to anyone, like in that first week I was in Vegas and went to EXACTLY THE WRONG FUCKING BBW EVENT...  Approaching an inappropriate real life group of people for an inappropriate reason and unrelated motive.  I had to burn out on it, and most importantly, not drink.  Maybe I hate myself for taking so long to figure out a simple concept.  If Candy liked doing the party thing, she would let me fucking drink without hassle.  The more I pushed myself to go if she wasn’t interested, the further self hatred would brew over my desire to have alcohol regularly but self restriction from it.  I can’t drink every day though, just like I shouldn’t do spice every day.  It actually starts to make sense to me in a very weird way maybe.  The “drunk me” wishes he could drink and hang out in a bar again, but he can’t, because he’s really fucking rude and shit.  If I go, I can’t drink though, and I still have to go on my own because of the multitude of reasons I have tried to get to the bottom of in why Candy won’t go.

I meant to do that though, maybe?  LOL  That drunk fucker… He’s done it again… I know, it’s me, but still… Shit, no wonder Candy doesn’t want me drinking, but if she let me do it every 3 days or so I wouldn’t binge and gorge myself on the shit when I get my hands on it like somebody trying to smoke a golf ball sized crack rock.

When I asked Candy why there would be two bbw events on the same weekend, she had to remind me that there were two rival groups, and there was a big possibility that personal politics had something to do with it.  I am so naive when it comes to local shit that the thought never occurred to me.  What a fucked up alternate reality I am fucking in…  Man I deleted half a paragraph… Great job!  Progress…. Maybe…  I have no idea of whatever was going on over there in facebook land, because I was so inactive, so “drunk me” went over there and tried to force some reaction with some attention because I was never going to crack that nut anyway over there…  I was letting myself get distracted from the methodology I had planned on using in coming here, and for that, again I was projecting my self anger onto something that I made up.  Weird, but again, necessary for the purposes of psychiatric evaluation that I can’t afford to pay for. And a rush you can’t get from drugs.

Why can I remember overhearing some comment under someone’s breath almost eight months ago and I can’t even remember the “juicy stuff” that got me kicked out of a fucking las vegas bbw group???  Maybe drinking bottled water versus a six pack quickly had something to do with it.  Man I was fucked up, and I think I was laughing out loud for real and shit, trying to be quiet because Candy was so fucking pissed…  Man…  That shit is like playing with fire.  But, it’s still controlled, and self contained.

Not to mention the fucking dreams…  Fucking human brain… I hate it so much…  God, not only do I “hate myself” but it’s because I hate the physiological and emotional limitations of being a stupid fucking human to begin with…  I want to go back to my prior ethereal being sometimes…  There is hope, because death is inevitable so it will come, and thanks to the force of irony and probability combined with uncertainty, it probably happens exactly when I don’t want it to… 🙂  that’s probably not funny, but maybe to very few.

Anyway… The troll thing seems to go to waste if “I” can’t even fucking remember it!!!  That’s part of what sucks about being an inexperienced troll who doesn’t even really want to be a troll, but has some strange compulsion while drunk to make up and point out what I feel is bullshit, which in turn, causes individuals or entire groups of people to become infuriated with me…  Maybe I still fantasize about death, like when Candy was gone… Only, while in Vegas, we could both be shot to death as we slept together, or went to walmart, or some casino, being mutually put out of the misery in never being able to find a true “home” and hating our human bodies with a passion…  Man, I hate my brain chemistry and she hates about 200 out of 500 pounds of weight…  🙂  So tragic, too bad I didn’t try harder with a joke angle, but this was kind of a dark post.

How could I have it so good and fantasize about death?  How is it that every time I hear about another “mass shooting”, instead of being angry, sad, or sympathetic, I’m getting past a split second where I am fucking ever so slightly jealous?  The first funeral for someone I knew very personally brought me to tears, but I was happy for her not sad for myself, and there was that slight jealousy.  She had “a lot of shit going on” like who doesn’t, and I didn’t know how much fucking bullshit I would have to put up with after that point in my timeline too!  Considering my failure to help her gain more control over her necessary “addiction transfer” process eventually, I hope it’s the best thing that Candy and I ended up back together for her benefit.  I wrote before about how two crazy people can’t co-exist… There has to be the crazy one and the “responsible” one, and I’m supposed to be the responsible one and not the crazy one, but I tend to think at times that I really have seen at least a tiny bit of what it’s like to be insane.  It’s someplace a part of me got very very curious about for a time.

Part of me will let myself act it out in little bits, other parts of me are much more diabolical…  Who would imagine the drunk would suddenly use the number 8 months to bring his facebook experiment to an end, “failed” when nobody on facebook even knew what I was talking about?  The “facebook group” only exists in the drunks mind as this antagonist I used while Candy was gone.  Now, getting out of Candy’s hair has occasionally given me way too much time to play with that thing again.  I was so busted too for drinking… Like she wouldn’t know… What’s astonishing is if I have to troll, why don’t I do it anonymously???  Shit…  Very strange…

What’s kind of scary, even to me, is that I am almost totally sober as I write that.  Smoking the resin build up from a pipe doesn’t count!  It might be the combination of shit that wants to “bring out the crazy” just now…  As wonderfuckingful as everything seems to be, and as lucky as Candy and I are, there are still all kinds of horrible shit just waiting to happen eventually, including the inevitability of death itself.  If one no longer fears death, they can truly and finally begin to live.  If Candy doesn’t get control of the eating thing she may experience it sooner than either one of us want to believe…

Another one of the little details, along with watching CO and WA do just about the coolest fucking thing ever in my lifetime and maybe in this country’s history while I just moved to the wrong fucking state for exactly that substance, would be the risk factors in getting fucking robbed or shot in Las Vegas.  I’m not scared of getting shot, I’m more scared of getting fucking permanently disabled instead of outright fucking killed quickly…  Candy has enough issues, I can only image her being faced with some life threatening close call shit either.  It’s bad enough that I got her into a car accident recently because some sick twisted part of me was “just having fun” and I let some guy plow into the back of the van, seeing it coming, knowing it was going to happen, and getting off on the adrenaline rush right after…  Damn, 8 months ago I drove a 16 foot fully insured, rented truck 2000 miles and I never fucked around like that…

There is the “spice” too…  That shit was outlawed in LA really quickly, but not before I did a few packets of it here and there.  For the first few months of living in Vegas, I would smoke that spice shit because it was all we had, and because, obviously, it’s harder to find a fucking good drug dealer in vegas while depending on any specific social group for “help” and not really “trying” at that.  I will find a drug dealer in Vegas, it’s going to happen, even if it’s in the last fucking 2 weeks that I end up living here.  It will be a matter of principle now, not addiction.  lol Or, I can tell myself that…  Weed isn’t supposed to be addictive!  The last time someone in this place was actually gracious and helped us out, I went right back to the spice so that Candy would have more of her medicine.    That friend was just helping out another friend a few times though until we found our own hook up.  Little did that friend realize what a social failure I am, and how much I seem to get off on being that character I thought for a moment I hated.  Actually me and my little “character” have a mutual hatred for each other, but I believe we kind of need each other too.  You think I did all that fucking driving??? lol

So, I can walk across the fucking street and get ice beer, or “spice”.  It’s not even a fucking smoke shop, and those fucking things are on every fucking block here.  The other night, I decided to get beer because I had to give the spice a rest.  I wanted to breathe again rather than keep getting high on that nasty shit.  The last few grams of that shit I smoked I hit too hard, too much, and I had an acute upper respiratory infection for a few days, like I really had just spent twenty minutes in a burning fucking house.

The fact that I have had to resist spice, resist alcohol (most of the time), and be denied regularly available weed after 8 months and over 2000 spent moving to Vegas is just too fucking much for my brain to handle after days of sobriety, passing smoke shops at every turn on every errand. One drunk moment might make it harder, or make me fucking look harder…  At this point, the switch-over has been made…  I would rather own being a complete and total asshole and release my rage and fury towards the entire state of NV than “be nice and hope for the best”.

Why the whole state and not just Vegas?  Well, there is the medical cannabis law that voters passed in 2001, while leaving other conflicting state laws in place which prevent any dispensary, even when you get a medical card…  I’m bitching about 8 months and these fucking jerk offs have gone 12 years without making that law constitutional…  You are still operating basically one step above the black market in NV even if you have a medical cannabis card, because dispensaries are illegal, and the only people even trying to provide medicine are doing call in deliveries.   That is exactly like the craigslist people, except the medical people demand your medical cannabis card number.  Still so very fucked up when compared to CO or CA…

If I have to go to so much trouble to get a card just to remove legal liability, why do it in NV since they are so fucked up?  I thought this time there would be a few cool people to help me out, but fuck no…  Just the fake concern for Candy for a few seconds without consideration that it is contributing to a larger social issue within her that pissed the drunk guy off.  He’s drunk, but he thinks he knows shit.

Maybe a part of me is also angry and resentful towards Candy herself.  I had to fucking fall in love with someone, my anti social ass spending just the right amount of time with Candy over the course of years to actually become “addicted” or “dependent” on her emotionally…  There is always a fly in the ointment though… Candy hates to see anyone intoxicated on alcohol… I know that makes up yet another part of her anxiety about hanging out in fucking bars, which is the only “social avenue” for fat people in vegas apparently besides spending hundreds to go to some fucking weekend party… 🙂  lol

All the while, NONE OF THAT SHIT GETS ME WHAT I WANT, and what I want is most important here! 🙂  Yeah, I can be a dick, but it’s kind of fun… It must fucking be because drunk me can’t help himself.  I have become “entitled”, which is a really prick like quality in most people, except, a lot of pricks do get exactly what they want eventually…  “NICE GUYS FINISH LAST MOTHERFUCKER.”  The troll part of my brain has to remind me regularly that almost all people are just useless fucks, most of them better to avoid than have any contact with at all.  I do a horrible job at playing “elimination” while drunk and then I work that much harder when I’m forced to be sober… The wall is “under construction”…

So, I love Candy so fucking much I accept that she can’t tolerate seeing alcohol intoxication.  No biggie, I’ll just get some weed…. Wait…. FUCK!!! LOL

So… A part of myself has “won” a small battle of troll versus nice guy.  Troll would say “Fuck this place, fuck all these people, fuck this shit…”  The logical side of me moved here because I wanted something, and now I am going to have to deal with exactly the sub culture element I didn’t know how to deal with, even in a state with medical and decriminalized cannabis.

Yeah, I really suck badly at “making friends” because this shit would come easy to most people.  Not me though.  Nothing can fucking be that easy for me…  I’m lucky because the things I “need” come so easily while the very very few things I want are always a bitch…  I’m too fucking lucky as it is… I’m a cranky old bastard that has to bitch about something, and then I get attention so I can still get to say they are awesome in the long run.  If they ever get it, or I ever stop doing it.  No wonder I’m going to have fucking trouble with “people”…. Fucking unpredictable, unreliable variables that are only consistent in their ability to hunt down the prey…  Sometimes I think I don’t need them, but people like Keven, and Robert, and Mark, and Chayla, and Jay, and Brian, and many others that I could list off that go beyond ten years…  The would laugh out loud at the worst, most abusive bullshit I could type anywhere…  but Candy might be a little offended…  but it’s like so freaking weird, 8 months…, who fucking knows…   Everybody likes cash though, so eventually, someone will wise up…  lol that was harsh, glad i re-read… geez…  i should have tossed in the diphenhydramine to put me down faster.

Maybe the 8 month thing is a post traumatic stress related issue to the 8 months that Candy was gone when she left last time…   I was nailing this woman who was almost as big and built in a way that was visually stunning, and I was still stuck on Candy…  It was not exactly, well, nevermind… Too soon… 🙂 Maybe a part of me hates me for loving her, and somehow getting her back and holding onto her no matter how much she might want to leave me again at times or how there are times when I *think* I “don’t give a fuck” if she leaves, because it must have become an involuntary emotional defense mechanism.

Maybe the damage done in her leaving twice already is too much, something both of us will never quite get over.  I am not used to putting someone ahead of myself, after all, I’m a self centered asshole…  Yet, I make sacrifices and try to do everything for her that she wants me to do.  Maybe a part of me hates her as much as I love her because after all I do for her, she can’t even let me have an alcohol intoxication once a week without fucking throwing shit. ~ that was harsh…  re-read… i don’t know, leave it…

So… I have to resist alcohol, and in order to breathe normally I must avoid spice too…  {later, lol omfg at least it was small amount} Even though, I could walk across the street and spend the money i can’t invest in one thing to get two cheaper and more convenient alternatives…. That I don’t fucking want and Candy fucking hates…  When you got the money, can’t find drugs, and visa versa… 🙂  Also, no shortage of fucking irony in this asshole’s life!

Candy, all the while, lives as happily as she can live, being nearly constantly embarrassed over my bad behavior, which is spawned by my fucking compliance to what she fucking wants…  Yes… “be careful what you ask for…”  I didn’t get off on trolling at all until she left the first time…  That’s when “a troll was born”.  That’s why I suck at it so badly, I never learned how to “use” it to my emotional advantage.  It appears I’m doing just that now, changing slowly into YET ANOTHER FUCKING PERSON because instead of multiple personalities, I believe I have multiple evolving moods that resemble entire personalities on their own…

I nearly constantly kiss Candy’s ass for example, never going off on her, even as she throws shit at me and makes a mess when she has a tantrum over me getting drunk.  This would happen even as a part of me would sacrifice the only remaining herb to her by taking an alternate intoxicant route with beer…  Fucked up shit right there.  I’ve given up vodka, but when I don’t drink at all for a week, then I slam a six pack in a few minutes, I might as well have drank a half bottle of vodka anyfucking way… The vodka could be even better, forcing me to pass the fuck out before going into “troll mode” and pissing off anyone and everyone I can because that part of me feels like “they are all full of shit anyway” in my delusional intoxicated state. because i was at such a high level suddenly, i became belligerent and incoherent.  it wouldn’t matter if it was minor, i guess that side of me had to make it big…

Then there is fucking snow…  I’ve joked around on facebook with a “real life” friend of mine (yes a few of those actually fucking do exist), and I said that there has to be a god, and he has to have a sick fucking sense of humor to make it so I have to deal with fucking snow in order to live where weed is legal…  Then I proclaim that if this god does exist, he really is one hell of a fucking prick.  If you bother to actually read the bible, you know what I’m talking about… I really love the hint left at Genesis 1:29 where it is said that man was given “all seed bearing plants”, and there is no fucking asterisk exempting cannabis…

Fucking christians are fucking oblivious, of course, AS USUAL, to the greater truths of this reality…  This reality sucks, and we all have to die for a reason, ‘escape’.  🙂  I believe if we were all immortal we would still kill each other and our selves off eventually just to finally leave this place…  It’s bad enough that people who claim to follow the bible pick on porn, which is not exactly “covered” because of technology, except for “vanity”.  One doesn’t have to make porn to execute the sin of vanity though… I do it all the fucking time. 🙂  Also, since I mention the bible, I’ll also quickly point out that god kills more motherfuckers in there than satan even fucking talks to!  Why do you think so many serial killers have a “god complex”?  It might make it even harder to imagine the infinite probability that exists right now in several parallel realities that I am only privileged to visit in my fucking sleep.  Even then, my own human asshole fucking brain releases DMT while I’m sleeping so I fucking forget most of that shit too…

I really have picked up a strange fucking collection of abilities or “eccentricities” over time, and they are only being added to as time moves forward, and I move with it like a particle accumulating mass in he higgs field of quantum physics… And there that shit goes again… How the fuck is quantum physics going to help you get fucking weed?  Get the fuck out of here with that shit.  lol One ability is being able to “transfer addiction“.  That shit contributed to Candy leaving both times.  The first time she left she didn’t consciously realize it was alcohol, but the second time she left, I was stubbornly refusing to quit using it almost daily, and at the time, I must have been willing to let her go because I wanted or needed to go through my six months of nearly constant intoxication.  It didn’t fucking kill me, as much as I actually tried through part of it with pills given to me by “the system” added…

Addiction transfer is talked about heavily with weight loss surgery, because a person is used to eating their ass off all the time and suddenly they physically can’t.  The impulse to eat has to be replaced, because it has become habit and addiction in a way.  These people have to switch over to “something” or they will eat too much anyway and rupture their fucking “new” stomach.  In my case, I picked up the ability to switch from weed to booze, because I was fucking sick and tired of dealing with the kind of people I was forced to deal with in order to continue using weed regularly.  In my little world, the actions of just 2 or 3 people had more impact than they knew at the time, or they could take advantage of any better than they did. 🙂  I got so fucking sick of the bullshit involved in looking for weed that I said “fuck it, I quit that shit”.  My best friend got all up into crack and meth, he started to freak out, he was the first connection.  Second connection had a dry spell, third connection kind of ripped me off because he borrowed money and wanted to pay me back in herb.  This fucked me hard though…. I’m still here, so i guess it didn’t fuck me hard enough…  So, addiction transfer is kind of cool, but you must choose wisely and carefully, more than I did with booze…

The moment I give in to Candy and agree to manage and control alcohol intake seriously, I just thought I would switch back over.  This is where the move to Vegas comes in.  Candy wanted to come back for the longest time, but it was really just to get the fuck out of Louisiana because let’s be honest, most of that state, and all of it’s politics suck ass so much harder than NV.   At least Vegas did allow decriminalization, even as they continue to cock block people from GETTING THEIR FUCKING MEDICINE by locking up those who would try and fail to run dispensaries here to supply the prescription to those who a doctor agreed needed it…

How can I be a “drug addict” when big pharma wants you to get addicted to prozac all your life?  How can I be a fucking “drug addict” when 2 states have legalized this shit, and 16 other states allow for medical cannabis?  How can I be a drug addict when it’s a fucking plant, created by this alleged “god” character, and even hinted at in the bible itself with the “seed bearing plant” thing?  A “drug addict” is apparently someone who has not yet performed addiction transfer to substances “they” want you to fucking use…  How does hemp seed oil end up being so fucking perfect nutritionally yet it is the only plant that is fucking “banned”???  How is it that people don’t understand why we are getting so fucking fat when hemp is nearly a perfect food and of course we can’t fucking have it?

Over all, people are fucking stupid, and I am fucking stupid right along with most of them, but unfortunately, I have this deep introspective thing going on where I seem to hate everybody and everything when intoxicated on alcohol, and if there was a big red button to push to destroy it all, I probably would.  I did delete most of this fucking blog after years of typing away in it…  Why wouldn’t a god just fucking blow it all up?  It’s funny, because I say I “hate everyone” and I don’t realize how close to the truth that might actually be at different times in my life…. My best friends, my girlfriend, my self, fuck I think there is a little hate in my heart for every-fucking-one.  🙂  That’s so dramatic…

This blog is where I should have taken my drunk ass to rant and rave because nobody fucking reads it anyway.  i get myself into trouble when I assume nobody will really notice some shit and then I go off all drunk anywhere and everywhere, or even weirder, I pick on one little tiny place and then act all innocent everywhere else… Sneaky fucker…  If I’m drunk and not even fully aware when I do that shit I have to give some credit to drunk self for coming up with it, even though I still don’t quite fucking understand why or what it’s about (yet).  I did remind Candy though, usually when I release such a vast amount of emotional energy, some shit happens, one way or another, so die or get weed, it makes no difference to me or probably her at this point.  lol

It’s weird, that a part of my brain actually has to be ready to face death in order to get weed because I still have to deal with people who are technically “criminals” even in a physical geography where it is “decriminalized”.  Fuck this reality is so fucked up, do people really wonder why everybody is just as fucked up???  Really?  Stupid fucking people…  They know they can’t fix “mental illness” because we seem to be the people who need to go off in extreme ways now and then for tiny little shit because the drunk side gets off on it in some way that the alternate mood swing is repulsed by.  I can’t help but note the coincidence in the fascination with “SSBBW”.  Someone once said to me that he would watch out for my “experiments” but I didn’t fully understand his meaning.

I’m only just beginning to catch on, I think, but I’m still much lower than that in philosophical understanding.  I really went off… I don’t even know how bad it is, and I will have this attitude of “go forward not back” and if really confronted I would try, as efficiently and acceptably as I could, to take responsibility for my actions and try harder, like I said last time, to stop doing this weird drunk negative stuff…  Damn this guy thought he was funny or something, making a big huge deal out of something he was just about to fix anyway.  I have nothing to promote that is “me” maybe… Who knows… The constant but slow entry onto the main domain based on limitations in space due to the other domains annoys me too, and no, so does the time frames that exist when creating anything is possible because it will mostly be necessity based stuff or more hardcore stuff.  I’m misdirecting and projecting… 🙂  So simple, and it’s sad that you know you did it when you did it.  At least I wasn’t driving and killed a kid or something…  Still, once a week… dammit… Shouldn’t be so out of control…

This really weird dude deep down in the chambers of inner childish emotions rarely gets to screw around, but when he does, it’s really wierd shit like :

I know that those who pass judgement on me are so perfect too.  They have every little aspect of their life sewn together in the most awesome way, with no problems in life at all.  They are fucking mentally perfect.  They have been touched by “god” itself.  They are so fucking better than me…  Unfortunately, they aren’t, and it’s all a fucking con that I know very well myself…  After all, I would much rather bypass all the bullshit and just be hated rather than disappointed first…

So, the eight month thing…  There may be more tied in there than I thought.  Most of the weird fucking shit that goes on in my head seems to be tied to dates, times, and the calendar, even if I don’t realize it at the time but I see the connections later… For example… I’ve been here 8 months, don’t get exactly what I want, turn into massive troll asshole while really drunk.  I think that the night I went troll fucking crazy might have been on the 19th, which is the date before Candy left me last time, the 20th, I think.  See, I don’t even remember when I try to, but then I look at my behavior, and I realize that I am really TRAPPED INSIDE OF A LOOPING FUCKING CALENDAR and there is no way I can change what will happen, just continue to walk forward on a path where I get fucked up and fucked over repeatedly until I finally “get it” for real, and figure IT ALL OUT, and therefore become a “better fucking person” and all that fucking jazz…

Considering, nobody will believe me, but I never never “hurt” someone more than I knew they could take in a moment for dramatic impact, and they knew even as I did it that it was limited and somehow, even in the heat of the moment, controlled.  Slightly unpredictable, but still controlled to a degree because shit was already out of my control.   In the future, I would rather take a blade to the gut from one specific woman than lay a finger on her in anger.  that doesn’t mean i’ll have an ability to restrain myself electronically at times with any other living entity in the reality i am perceiving though. “drunk me” is a dick, but he’s trapped behind a keyboard too. “drunk time” is educational to me, too.  I have to maintain the strict level of low mental functioning.  sometimes more than people would believe… The wall can be tall, have to watch out how high you build that wall.

Then there is Candy.  It’s interesting how much I have built up a protective barrier around her where I would never hurt her under any circumstance, yet emotionally, I will not always be a “PERFECT GOOD LITTLE FUCKING BOY” either…  That give and take is typical in any relationship.  Rebellion doesn’t seem to manifest in me beyond my desire for occasional intoxication itself, and sometimes, when unexpected, it’s “forbidden”.  It’s still not hard liquor, so still “controlled”.  It has recently devolved into this troll shit though…  I don’t have to fuck anybody else to get off in that weird, egotistical way, even though Candy would have said to me recently that because of my outburst, she thought I wasn’t jerking off enough lately.  Really, no joke, she thinks I just needed to get laid, so that might have been another hint. lol

Any and all frustration with her and her lack of patience, her quick fuse, her psychotic outbursts must be projected somewhere, because I sure can’t beat the piss out of her, at least not without tying her up first, setting the mood, and using whatever fucking props are designed for BDSM shit… lol  We were supposed to experiment more with that, at least from what I promised to get her back this last time… lol, remember that??? omfg  We have a few books, we have NOTHING BUT FUCKING TIME…  We certainly aren’t constantly annoyed and bugged by people from “the outside”…  🙂  Maybe that would be a healthier alternative to acting a fool on the internet, and I could make some fucking cash by filming it too…

Maybe it’s all me.  Maybe Candy’s bad behavior,  impatience, and intolerance of alcohol use is really easy to handle, but I’m such a crazy fuck that it is difficult at times for me.    There have been at least 2 occasions where Candy couldn’t resist saying how easy it would be to leave again.  Instead of being massively hurt or angered, I just made note, reminding her how fucked up doing that is and how it isn’t going to work on me because each and every time she has left I did not stop her…  By the time I got her back, I was only just STARTING to get to the point where I was “over her”.  In fact, it took progress in getting over her in order to get her back…  Yeah… Wonder why I’m such a fucked up fucking self hating mess? omfg lol

A while back, another friend said that I was better off without her, that we were not good for each other because of who we were, and the way we thoroughly understood each other and still failed to accept certain shit about each other.  Although I accept her, I know that there are ways in which she doesn’t accept me, and I have to maintain an equilibrium in order to accept that I must always be, in some aspect, on the ass kissing side of a relationship that I believe I want, even though I am not, by any means, a total ass kisser all the time…

We talked about getting “counseling”, but we can barely leave the house for the 3 times in 8 months it took trying to get a fucking ID in the state of NV…. Another sore point with this ‘entire state’…  It’s kind of hard to imagine I will get a medical cannabis card in the next four months if it has taken 8 months to get a fucking ID…  It’s not like I could pick a bitch up and kidnap her to the fucking DMV… Too heavy…  And I have a fucking vehicle… Fucking sad.  Just sad… If I still had that urge to get laid or even find models at least I would not have lost the ambition to leave the house at all, ever, even for the possibility of making small steps towards the holy grail of medical cannabis…

A part of me has come to the realization that “drunk asshole did NOT want me to go out this weekend”.  I still don’t know what it means, but it’s usually something I don’t get a choice in.  Wait, the “sober” me doesn’t get a choice.  That asshole only gets partial control for so little time, yet he makes the most important decisions for me… 🙂   What a dick… He really really didn’t want to go, as if he already knew deep down something Candy kept trying to tell “me”.  She would say that this was an inappropriate group to scout out for that shit… Buying a few other things is possible, just not that… 🙂  I guess I would tend to ask for the one thing I should not be asking for from the exact people I should not be asking for it… 🙂  That is my fault, not theirs, and I’ll take responsibility, and say I’m sorry if anyone was hurt in my weirdness, even if I know that they don’t know me and I don’t know them.  “in reality”  I was “joking around” really, there must have been some “:)” and “lol” in there…

It will be a kick in the ass when not only I succeed in finding the magic herb, but end up having to get it twice repeatedly because we made promises to more than one potential connection, and we didn’t want to pass up a chance once we fucking spent so long looking… lol  No matter… I have the fucking money!!! lol  That shit drives me crazy….  There are probably multiple people in this fucking apartment complex who would love to make a deal and that is just not where fate is pushing me…

Oh then there is this other thing… My recent effort to engage in “positive thinking” had kind of a blow back effect on the asshole side…  I spent days “thinking positive” and trying to be more positive, trying to offer some kind of alternative to the fuck head that I have been for so long.  It just didn’t work though.  The phrase “fake it till you make it” doesn’t take into consideration the way in which the brain bounces back to a former state with surprising insistence when it has been pulled away from habit and horror for a few moments…  It was a mistake for me to try to “be more positive” when I am simply not ready for it, and I have not dealt with so much bullshit that floats around in my head.

I have one neighbor who is a kind of “asshole type”, and she can be heard screaming and yelling all the time through the closed windows of the apartment.  She gets away with this behavior because of some previously built tolerance within her relationship by the guy she’s living with.  He can handle it.  She can yell, scream, curse, and maybe even throw shit too like Candy, but he deals with it.  Since I’m the one who usually has to hear all the crying and bitching about stuff, it’s hard sometimes to hold back when I’m in a mood to bitch, and I know ahead of time she doesn’t want to hear it.  The problem with facebook is that she can still “see it” and she even told me she was about to “unfriend” me on my last rampage.  It also makes sense that in the digital realm, I have to grab the biggest guy in jail and be a prick, it simply wouldn’t matter if it wasn’t that way, think about it.  lol  That drunk bastard isn’t as stupid as I think… Never underestimate him… he kept using that word too…

I decided to name this post “trollgasm” because there was no other way I could approach the way in which trolling, just a little, even while drunk and not really remembering, gave me such a nut I didn’t want to touch a computer for over 24 hours…  It’s like sleeping with someone you really don’t like that much but they are “hot”, and once you climax you want to get out of there as soon as possible, and wait at least a week before letting it happen again.  The trolling thing is still kind of “new” to me because I didn’t realize that it was turning into some kind of coping mechanism as it was happening.  Even now, I think I remember a point where I made a comment to someone about how I felt similar to the way I did when Candy was gone and I was just “going off” on anyone and everyone who had fucked up and interacted with me previously, at least in a way that I eventually took some offense to.

The recent troll fest was not so much “personal” for me, even though I know it would be perceived that way by anyone who witnessed it.  I was “projecting” as I have said i do over and over, some tiny feeling of self hatred drifting off me as I express hate and vitriol to those around me who have offended some part of the drunk self.  If you have experience in being around drunk people, you realize they often do this kind of thing, projecting anger and sometimes pure rage at some small perceived offense…  It’s really simple, and people should blow it off, but some don’t, and they get all butt hurt.  It’s ok though.  The drunk self was pissed at “me”, and also pissed at Candy when he was reminded by her how much she wants to be a bitch about beer.

She was already about to start throwing shit at some point, so with me knowing this, and knowing how unnecessary it all is, I blow off some of my inner rage online while loaded, which is only indirectly related to anyone specific in the moment.  Then, the drunk self thinks about it, searching desperately for someone to blame, and *bam*!  It don’t take long!  “If” people did what they say (including me), “then” I would already have herb, because people have said it’s no problem.  but… i don’t have it, so that means certain people are “full of shit” all the sudden, and I’m already pissed, so “it’s on”.

Also, because of repeated attempts of Candy to stop me from disappointing myself, instead of ignoring a group of people and simply “giving up on them”, I rage out so that I can get the “fuck you note” and stop future bullshit interaction, which causes Candy disappointment each and every time it fucking happens…  Not too difficult to figure out huh?  Yes, it’s “wrong”, yes it’s fucked up, but it gave me pleasure in the moment, for whatever reason, and it helped solidify my intent on getting the fuck out of here now that there are areas where kissing ass isn’t a requirement in getting a drug that is already legal there.  “legal weed”… just the thought…  fucking wild shit…. i think it might really fucking be worth putting up with snow now…

Maybe my over-reaction wasn’t too extreme after all though.  I mean, take the average couple (yeah, right), put them in a kind of social isolation for 8 months.  Then, introduce an agenda, a reason for us to have moved here, making anyone and everyone painfully aware of exactly what we want.  Then, we get tapped on here and there like minnows picking at dog puke in a pond by people selling shit that we don’t really want to buy.  They hint at helping us get what we want while tempting and drawing us in to some shit they make money from, or have another agenda to promote, that they are not being as up front as we are about whatever it is that they really want.

Seeing Candy “run out” yet again because of our mutual failures and the bullshit potential of other people, I fucking lost it.  I think I would do it all over again now too.  I could take it a step further, as I usually do, and say that if Candy doesn’t like it, she knows where to go… 🙂  It’s kind of humorous, in a long gone crazy type of way I guess…  I got balls to type that while she’s sleeping less than twenty feet away from me. 🙂 Candy tells me not to trust or depend on “those people” because she already got the fucking hit and run over and over, strangely, even a year before moving here.  I freak out and go off on who else?  Those people…  I’m so fucking crazy, but if being crazy has gotten me where I am right now, I guess it’s not too fucking bad for me.  I could just drink, but then again, I can’t…  Oh well, this is what I wanted most in the world, this is exactly what I fucking asked for…  Now we’re here, surrounded by bullshit, flakes, liars, cheats, hustlers, con artists, and criminals, and now I have to think like one of them to interact with them…  Drunk hate is not the worst a person could do motivated by such a perceived extreme set of circumstances…

Oh, there is yet another factor going on here… Every fucking time I have to watch Candy break down and lose it because she’s miserable in pain, complaining about how she feels physically and emotionally so fucked up she wants to die, that might be another fucking reason I have finally fucking lost it with the bullshit…  Eight months no ID, eight months no doctor visits, eight months zero progress and actually losing progress on letting a few medications run out…

They have no way of knowing that she can’t just go “hang out at a fucking bar”, no matter how it benefits them.  She doesn’t want to be around a bunch of drunk motherfuckers, or she would be letting me drink and maybe drinking herself to forget about this fucking weed bullshit, like I already learned how to do but fucking can’t because of her..  She can’t, or won’t. Obviously, she can’t transfer freaking eating… Fuck I don’t know how to fucking stop that…   Even now I have to wonder if her real reason for not wanting to go out to a bar would be the alcohol thing, or the physical humiliation in being rolled in, or the potential rejection of being encouraged so heavily with so much fake concern and then just ignored all over again.  Fuck that shit.  I won’t put her through it, even if I have to curse out every one of those fuckers…  🙂  That’s how “he” sees it, at least for now…  What a dick.

I’m so bad… But then again, I’m about to be dealing with fucking criminals, so being a fierce dickhead isn’t such a bad quality all the sudden.  I literally have no choice but to be the “bad guy” to get what I want, because I am otherwise a boring law abiding citizen, but because of the state I fucking live in right now, I want to break this one “half ass law”.  Again I stress how I am motivated by Candy’s pain, because she has failed to get an ID for so long, she was long long long out of any kind of prescribed medications, so the fucking woman is really in fucked up.  For small moments during high levels of alcohol intoxication, it can feel like nobody gives two fucking shits, but sober me knows that some really do.

I think I got so fucking pissed at this one woman while loaded because she was “so concerned” that she  built up Candy’s hopes at a time that was more critical than anyone outside would know, or I would have revealed, even as I ranted on facebook day in and day out for days about it.  I only gave her about 3 weeks though, but it was just bad timing that it was only 3 weeks kind of slightly friendly interaction before I had my 8 month freak out, but it is still kind of related, half way… Two thirds… Fail all the way around so far.   At least the feeders can do her a favor and help her keep shoveling it in so the pain will end sooner or later… that’s how she puts it at times…  Another panda express freaking card came in… I’m not complaining but…  omfg  I might really push for a freaking video, even if I would “make her” to two at a time, one eating to build me up for one potential hardcore…  I did order the taller tripod for 2nd high cam, but of course, it didn’t fucking come yet…  Neither did the fucking ID… Nothing can be “easy”.  It’s not supposed to be. 🙂

Now I can’t even hit the pipe resin because Candy could hear it, and she gets pissed, so she wants to tell me to go get spice again, since it’s right across the fucking street… Wow… She knows that shit will kill us, so I have to ask her if she’s now ready to die because she can’t have weed.  Her answer would probably not surprise you.  It wasn’t going to surprise me…  She’s pretty much ready, but she still has this little bit of nagging self preservation left.  Enough constant pain and denial of medicine she should already be entitled to should speed that up though! 🙂

Well I think I should end this one here.  Why not on a positive note?   What, you don’t think death is a positive note? lol  Your going to fucking die, we all will…  Get over it. 🙂  It’s funny, how time is at the center of all of this.  A few months down the line when I have set things up fucking correctly for once in my life to get what I fucking want, all of this will mean nothing at all to me.  Those who have fucked around with my head will mean even less…  Especially considering that nobody fucked with my head, it was actually a delusion of the “drunk self” that had some fun.  I think he had to “get out” a little… I hope he’s fucking happy now… 🙂  God, he’s so fucking angry!!!  He wants to hang out more, and I have to tell him to fuck off to keep Candy happy… Most of the time… Fucking beer… It’s so easy… I was actually surprised by how fast they went down this time…  I didn’t even pay attention.  The longer without using it, the more powerful it is.  So, abuse alcohol responsibly. 🙂  not digitally

 

 

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