Posts tagged hip replacement

overboard

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No, I’m not talking about that cheesy movie from a long time ago.  I think that last post was a bit harsh.  I was trying to maintain a sense of humor, but as always, i got really critical of the very audience that has supported my work for nearly a decade.  I wasn’t really insulting the entire audience though, just the ones who have never actually supported the work because they always watched stuff that came out for free.

 

all this food is not free

all this food is not free

 

I don’t want to get started all over again about that, but I just wanted to say that without taking the time to go re-read what I wrote, I will get a little more specific about who I meant to be critical of.  It’s one thing to be complimented on work that someone saw completely free, but it’s another thing when other people are literally posting entire clips on a file sharing site, and then suddenly there are over a dozen clips floating around “for free”.  Then someone responds to some twitter update by saying how great the content is, but they have never actually paid for it.

 

that food gets pretty expensive!

that food gets pretty expensive!

 

There is a consequence of doing that, and eventually, it is called “going out of business.”  I should not have complained so harshly in that previous post, but later on that day I started to come down with symptoms of some kind of cold.  The next day I had a fever over 100 degrees and I was sick for nearly 2 weeks with a pretty severe sinus infection.

 

really loaded, or had a fever, hard to remember!

really loaded, or had a fever, hard to remember!

 

In the middle of all that, I was informed that my van was going to get towed away soon at great expense if I did not get rid of it on my own, or finally fix it and renew registration.   They would charge $300 for the tow that I did not want even if I told them to keep the van.  I called the tow company, and they made an offer to buy the van for $50, but I had already made arrangements to sell it for $60 to another guy.

 

it could haul stuff, but not broke

it could haul stuff, but not broke

 

That might sound like I was ripped off something horrible, because the fuel pump I replaced just months before cost more than that.  It cost me $300 to have the transmission mounts replaced, so that one bracket could come loose and nearly break my steering column.  Now the van is not going to be a money pit any longer, and I believe that positive changes have happened because I got rid of it.  Because there is less money coming in, the van will stop leeching money  that I can’t even use as a business expense because the van wasn’t used in the business.  The van became a real problem on a regular basis, and was no longer very reliable, so it simply had to go.

 

the van, haunting my nightmares like a chinese buffet aquarium monster

the van, haunting my nightmares like a chinese buffet aquarium monster

 

The van was simply too messed up after the transmission bracket came loose to fix easily.  Even if the bracket could have been put back, the steering column was hit and leaking, and that was going to go sooner or later and in a very unsafe and probably horrifying way.  So, I had to say goodbye to the van I have had for nearly a decade right in the middle of the worst illness I’ve experienced in that same period of time.  I never get sick, but I had worn myself down with stress and anxiety about too many things, and I had to finally let the van go.

 

and just when will i get that hip replaced?

and just when will i get that hip replaced?

 

So, I just wanted to post a note here as I logged in to check on updates and other stuff.  I know that i was being really insulting to an entire group of people out there who will never, ever pay for content.  I can’t blame them in a way, but still, I am a “small business” not a big Hollywood studio.  I know that other small businesses have gotten larger with expansion, but at this point, I have other issues going on that prevent me from giving 100% of myself to any business.

 

the closest i may ever get to putting a ssbbw on a website again :(

the closest i may ever get to putting a ssbbw on a website again 🙁

 

Just last week I tripped myself on the cane I use to walk because I need a hip replacement.  In the fall I hurt the “good leg”, so it was even harder to walk for a few days.  It just happened to be right before a weekend spent with a friend where I would want to help them out by doing some house work.  Then, she discourages me from drinking, on the night I really could have used it, so I just passed out.  I needed a drink more than ever being in the kind of pain I was in, and trying not to take pain pills for it.  Luckily it didn’t hurt when I wasn’t moving or walking, so I was able to pass out, regardless of what kind of plans she may have had for “later”.

 

yeah, this one, pushy as she is voluptuous

yeah, this one, pushy as she is voluptuous

 

When I do finally quit drinking, that will be my decision.  Being told “no” by someone is a harsh reminder of the way I am guiding my life in the next few months.  It’s never too late to stop what is planned, but I have a feeling I’m going to have to go through the whole experience to know that I “maybe should not have done that.”  I know I’m talking in code, but maybe in the near future I’ll be spilling all kinds of stuff here because I won’t have much else to do.

yeah, i like to get fucked up!

yeah, i like to get fucked up!

law of attraction

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I had the chance to watch some videos and read some materials online about the law of attraction, or LOA as they are calling it on twitter.  Candy would have gotten me interested in learning more about this, because she comes across a lot of spiritual and self help type stuff as she surfs the internet literally all day in between binge watching certain television shows.

I really like the philosophy and the idea behind the law of attraction, because it involves simple positive thinking and the ability to put one’s self in a mind set where they already possess what it is they want, so what they really want is drawn to them.

There was always a sense that I could accomplish anything I put my mind to.  It started back when I was just hitting puberty.  I thought to myself “I would like to have my own money.”  So, I found out I would need a worker’s permit at the age of 15 or 16, I forget.  I got one, and I proceeded to apply for jobs.  I was living in such a small town that there were not that many businesses to choose from, and all the kids my age would be hitting all of them the same way I was, if they were so inclined to work as I was.

I got an offer with a local supermarket, but I would have to spend the first week or so working for a store in Metairie, which was a town about 15 minutes away on interstate.  I already spent a lot of time out there, because that’s where the big malls were, and all the cooler places where younger people hung out.  The supermarket where I was trying to work was within walking distance from my house, while this place required a half hour commute considering both ways.

They were fixing up a store because a regional manager was visiting, or inspecting, and I had to do all kinds of jobs there that were never going to come up again in the supermarket where I thought I would be working.  I had to sweep a ceiling, paint a back warehouse, and there was all kinds of cleaning.  These were the kinds of things that were only done once a year or even every other year, so while this was my initial experience, it was not going to be the usual experience.

I was so determined to make my own money, that I would try to hustle, and instead of dragging ass, I was enthusiastic and energetic.  I was fucking young, so it was easy to be hyper back then.  I think back and wish I took better care of myself so that I could have at least more than half of that kind of energy at 46.  Now I have to quit smoking and start working out to even come close to having that kind of energy ever again.

When I started working at the local store, there wasn’t any need for the kind of clean up that took place at the other store.  The manager at this store was keeping all that shit together so that it never got as bad as it did at the other place.  The store in Laplace was a lot slower than the one in Metairie though.  The store in Laplace was part of a strip mall, that was one of maybe 3 in the whole town, one of only 2 that I would care to hang out at when I lived there.  The store in Metairie was linked on to the back of a big mall, so it got all kinds of traffic from people who wanted to go grocery shopping after mall shopping.

The big job at the store in Laplace was buggy pushing.  Yeah, somebody has to bring all those buggies back into the store when they are taken out to the parking lot and emptied out.  At least back in Laplace, there wasn’t a major percentage of the buggies leaving the parking lot and being pushed home, like they do here in Las Vegas.  It is actually a small business opportunity in Vegas to have a truck and trailer and round up buggies all over the city, and get paid by the buggy to bring them back.  Now, businesses have to go high tech and install one special wheel that is supposed to jam up if you roll that thing out of the parking lot.  I have no idea how that works, but I should look it up to see how it is hacked.

I would spend nearly the entire shift out in that parking lot pushing those things back into the store.  Over time, I started to imagine that I wasn’t even “in” my body, but ordering it to do things for me as I sat back comfortably in the back of my mind somewhere, listening to music I had memorized by listening to my records over and over.

I was impressive to the store manager, who would see so many other kids listlessly and slowly doing the least amount of work necessary.  I would be pushing myself as I was pushing those buggies, trying to push just 1 more in the row than I did the day before regularly, or get to the point where I had to stop adding to a regular trip because I might lose control, or lose the end buggy if I had to stop suddenly.

Thinking back I can remember the technique that I would learn to control a big long row of buggies.  There was a kind of trick to it.  The fewer you had, the more control you had, because you had to shove left or right to stop in addition to steering.  If you couldn’t put enough sideways pressure on the one you were pushing, the one at the front would slip right off the row, probably right into someone’s brand new car, and you don’t want that.

The main point about the buggies, and that first job, is that before I got the job, I didn’t know I could do “a job” at all.  Even further, I wasn’t handed paint and brush at my own house to paint, but these guys handed it to me expecting a job that would impress a regional manager.  I think it did.

I didn’t know I could spend 8 hours in the deep south summers pushing hundreds, or thousands of buggies back and forth in a day, and then turn around and be an energetic kid running all over town after.  I didn’t realize how quickly I could save up money to purchase that first car.  When I got the job, and started the job, I didn’t think getting my own car was even a possibility, but naturally it would be, because as long as I kept the job, I would accumulate more money.  I was a kid, it wasn’t like I was paying rent.

After just a few months of working at this place, I had enough money saved up to buy a used car, and that led me to see another goal realized that I didn’t think was possible while I achieved the earlier goal of getting and keeping a job to begin with.  Of course, getting that car would prove to show me what my real agenda was all along, independence.

Buying a first car made such a big difference in the sheer amount of time that I would spend at my childhood home.  I would basically be just sleeping there, and by the time I was 17, I could have just quit high school, shifted over to full time at my supermarket job, and got my own apartment.  That would have gotten me into way too much trouble.  It’s bad enough the way things turned out after getting that car.

When I say it’s bad enough the way things turned out, I mean that with that independence, and that confidence, I started visiting bars at 17 before I was even old enough to be drinking.  I would meet up with a woman in her mid 20’s, and she would end up being my first ex wife, because I was impulsive enough to get married to the first woman who put out on a regular basis.

So many things turned out how I expected them, as long as I set small goals, and checked them off one at a time.  If I really wanted to get away from my parent’s house, I had to first get a job for income, then get a car for transportation.  Once those 2 things were done, I just had to wait until I graduated high school to figure out what I wanted to do next.

I had an additional year of high school, not because I failed, but because I was kicked out right at the end of the fucking year in my junior year.  So, I had to do that year all over again, after having a recurring dream of exactly that happening.  A lot of kids would have said “fuck it” right then and there, but my mother used to taunt me about how I would never finish high school, so a part of me did the extra year just to prove her wrong.  Now I know where my passive aggressive tendencies come from!  Thanks mom!

You know, the biggest fantasy I would have had at that time besides having a car, would have been getting laid.  While in my early 20’s, with a car, a job, and money in the bank, I didn’t realize how easy getting laid could be, even before the internet.  I had to go through some pretty hard lessons and my first ex wife before I understood the dynamics of dating and desperation.

I believe that the only way my story of coming of age is relevant to the law of attraction is in the way that I believed I would accomplish things, and I did.  Even when I was young and dumb in my teens, before being young and just as dumb in my 20’s, I still set out to accomplish things one at a time until reaching some end goal.  It is something that has become so regular and easy in my life that I sometimes take it for granted.  There have been times I have almost gone right off the cliff because of my confidence that the brakes would stop the car in time.

Even now, I have just achieved the latest goal, of getting a medical marijuana card.  To people in California, it’s no big deal, because it’s under $100 and you can get it in the back room of a dispensary.  Here in Nevada, there is a shitload of stuff you have to be put through before getting this little token.

I was here in Nevada for almost 3 years before getting that card, but just like the process of getting my first car or first regular piece of ass when I was younger, there were steps that had to be completed before hitting the goal.  I had to wait on obamacare to kick in so I could get my first hip x-ray.  Then, I had to take the radiologist report to some strip mall doctor’s office and give them the routine about how I am too young for hip replacement, but obviously need one.  Then, I had to shell out nearly $300, and that is WITH A DISCOUNT because I had brought in actual medical records.  Then, I had to wait nearly 2 months for that shit to come in the mail after waiting 3 hours for the DMV to take my fucking photo.

So, just getting that little card took a few steps, none of which were convenient or ‘fun’.  If obamacare had started just one year earlier, I would have gotten the card a year earlier, because I made sure to move to a state with medical marijuana BEFORE obamacare kicked in.  Before that, I made sure to regulate my income so that I know I would be covered under medicaid, and I could still manage to live on a %133 of poverty level income.  So, the actual entire process of getting that card started with me living in Louisiana, making a certain amount for a full year before obamacare even kicked in so I would know I could live on that much, and still move my ass 2000 miles across the country to a state less stuck in the past who has the compassion to allow people to use a fucking plant to alleviate great amounts of physical pain.

To me, the southern states have always seemed masochistic and sadist for turning their noses up at medical marijuana.  Further, it is ironic to me that the “river parishes” where I grew up, is also known as “cancer alley” because of all the chemical plants along the Mississippi river right there.  Of course when people get cancer that was caused by that fucking pollution, the politicians would say “fuck you, you don’t need that marijuana shit for your cancer.”  My mother died of fucking ass cancer in that shit hole state, so naturally, I have a sense of resentment for Louisiana, and every other southern state that continues to force it’s residents to suffer because they are bible thumping fuck-tards from the distant past who can’t get their heads out of their fucking asses to save their fucking stupid, useless lives…

Wow, I got a little negative there.  I have always known about the connection that marijuana has to health and well being, decades before all this new research has finally been released, after being kept hidden by corrupt politicians and the corporations who bribed them to begin with.

Every time a southern state says “NO” to medical marijuana, I am reminded of why I had to get the fuck out of there, and why I don’t enjoy giving that place credit for my growing up because I hate it, and the entire southern fucked up region so much.  Recently, Florida said NO to medical marijuana, and it’s ironic that with all those suffering old people down there, they are so desperate to keep the status quo of pill addiction and abuse…

Wow, I just got way off the subject there!  Maybe not entirely though.  I look at the law of attraction as if we are all children, experiencing everything for the very first time, every day of our lives.  Just because we grow up, or get old, doesn’t mean we have seen everything and done everything there is to do, if you want to do it.

Even though I am 46 now, I can still relate to being a teenager who is trying to work out how to get that first car when I work out the massive undertaking of moving 2000 miles to get out of bum fuck egypt and into a place that is more progressive and modern politically.  When I was young, I thought I wanted to move from Louisiana to Florida.  Talk about getting out of the toilet only to end up in the sewer!

Florida would have been nearly *worse* than Louisiana!  Just talk to “Florida Man” about that one!  Also, I have already mentioned that those assholes recently voted down medical marijuana while Nevada voted it in over a decade ago but just pussyfooted around and cock blocked it up until NOW. 🙂  Nevada is still cock blocking medical marijuana, and I might just become more of an activist to point it out, since they are literally trying to make me suffer by not giving me access to my state approved medication!

Alright, I have wondered so very far from my original subject, and I have shit to do, but I guess I am saying that no matter what the undertaking, or how difficult you think it would be, or how impossible it might seem, it is doable, possible, and if you really want it, inevitable.  The law of attraction can’t be taken for granted to the point where you just sit back and think about something all day expecting it to happen for you.  The law of attraction gives people the motivation and inspiration to complete those small goals on the way to the larger one, even when that large goal seems unattainable.  Nothing is impossible.  Believe in your dreams.

 

medical marijuana card nevada

i got my medical marijuana card!

mr hyde

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now, i am buzzed.  i am coming back because after a really full day of activity, i realize how much the earlier writing exercise helped me.  i was given a little time on my own upon waking, and the thoughts were racing about everything i had experience during the last episode of online activity that literally had me concerned.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dr._Jekyll_and_Mr._Hyde_(1931_film)

i was trying to restrict the use of links to outside sites while typing, but this is the reference to the title, for those who are culturally challenged when it comes to real cinema versus hollywood movies.

i realize that while my behavior in this one little forum was really inexcusable, unprofessional, irrational, and made me look like a crazy person, it had some kind of purpose.  a part of me tries so hard to recover memories from dreams every night, but during the day, i can only collect scraps of memory that were lost for a few hours because of the drunken condition i was in the night before.

i believe that my little experiment with alcohol needs to come to an end, eventually.  candy has left as a direct result of my use of alcohol, before she realized that it was a trigger that caused her to be a total bitch, and both of us were not totally aware of it at the time.

i have wondered if there is some correlation between her inability to control that impulse, and my own inability to control my alcohol intake when i am facing an extremely painful situation.  i don’t mean emotional pain, i mean physical pain, that i don’t choose to inflict on myself, but is inflicted upon me by my prior abuse of my entire left side.

one should not need a hip replacement before the age of fifty, but here we are.  i could get all kinds of pills, but i don’t even try, because i know that it is a road that goes somewhere i don’t want to go.  it is extremely ironic that someone who admits to being an alcoholic has severe hesitation in even trying to get serious drugs.

if anything, alcohol was a very risky experiment on it’s own.  i have to pull myself out of some compulsion to keep drinking when i decided to start writing this.  or, i was so unnerved by my own behavior recently that i had to take a look inside for a moment with my writing.

i know i was wrong.  i know i was irrational.  i know i was insensitive, and completely out of control.  a part of me seems to know that i was going to go there, and allowed it, which means that i still take responsibility as the more sane partner in this strange inner struggle with just one chemical.

i only started using alcohol on a regular basis shortly after turning 40.  i’m 46 now, so this is year six.  while some alcoholics count out how much time they have been sober, i am counting down how long it will take for me to be able to consume this one chemical without being a slave to it.

rather than abstinence, a part of me knows that i can control it, but unfortunately, i have to go through some kind of period of complete upheaval, much like “rock bottom” but without homelessness and bankruptcy. 🙂

i guess there are advantages to being a fully functional drug addict.  i choose not to get on the pills, for good reason.  i can’t just walk into a store and buy pills.  if i could walk into a store to buy weed, i would not have started fucking drinking to begin with.

i started to experiment with alcohol because of this horrible episode with my best friend and weed dealer.  he got on crack and/or meth, and he started to orchestrate my weed deals with his crack buys.  i don’t think he will ever understand how much it influenced me when his wife threatened to call the cops on us while i just bought an ounce of weed in freaking louisiana…

i stopped talking to that guy, the best friend from high school, because i had such built up resentment for his disrespect and his lack of consideration.  he started to use this beer can crack pipe in my car after i told him not to smoke crack in my car.  he doesn’t understand the seriousness of that offense.

just because i’m a pot head, doesn’t mean i can tolerate a crack head.  he used to keep one of his wife’s name tags on him to stab holes in the side of a beer can after denting it.  then, he would place a few cigarette ashes over the holes, and carefully place his precious fucking crack on them, and smoke it through the hole you would drink through.

that shit is pathetic, and intolerable.  what’s worse is the way he would act after smoking crack.  he would be all paranoid and start turning the lights on and off, and then looking out the window over and over.  i hated it, and told him he was doing it, but he was oblivious.

now, i realize that the moment i allowed mr hyde to get out there and log in, even in some obscure, dying forum, i was out of control.  i am grateful to all those people for helping me to realize and understand, through totally predictable behavior, that i was out of control.

it’s wild when you can do an intervention on your own damn self.

today i typed over 3000 words in this blog, and then i added a clip to the clip stores that had already been prepared days earlier.  then, i went to big wonderful wal mart and did grocery shopping.  then, i came home, had a few beers because i was still sore from the rains days ago, and got online.  rather than going all manic crazy person on some forum, i came here.

i felt compelled to point out some things that i had learned about my own behavior.  if i ever allow myself to get drunk to a certain degree, and then go into forums where i already have issues with people, it is a catastrophe waiting to happen, and i should try much harder than i have recently to prevent that from happening.

i learned some kind of fucked up coping mechanism when candy was gone for eight months, and i learned to lash out online to help myself release all kinds of negative energy.  i used to only do it on facebook, but this one little tiny forum seemed ok to fuck around with, and somehow, a part of me let drunk me go in there and go fucking crazy.

now, i realize the value of that experience.  i still feel badly for anyone who might have taken anything really personally, but i am pretty sure they just wrote me off as that crazy alcoholic mean guy.  i think that’s what some part of me meant to allow to happen all along, to snap myself out of some tendency to focus on one tiny spot online like some kind of magnifying glass and burn a big hole there, in some scorched earth policy that makes me look like some kind of monster.  mr hyde is a fucking monster, and on those few occasions i am allowed to see it for myself, i realize the degree of severity as to how much i am losing the battle with alcohol.

i am willing to admit it, but i have other alternative coping mechanisms, like writing.  i can’t even fucking read straight while drunk, but somehow i can manage to type.  that shit is scary.

there was a time when i stopped smoking weed completely, and started substituting vodka.  candy doesn’t remember it, because it was before she got on lexapro and ended up in virginia.  there was at least a six month period where i totally stopped smoking weed after nearly twenty years of consecutive use every day.

i continued to watch candy smoke it, and i continued to purchase it, but for that period of time, because i wasn’t smoking, i didn’t have to pick it up as often, and i didn’t have to deal with my wonderful crack smoking best friend, and i didn’t have to worry about some kind of domestic dispute that was launched because i tipped my friend enough money for him to buy and consume crack.

somehow, time passed, and eventually, candy took off for that first period.  candy has left for a four month period and then an eight month period.  she was fortunate enough to receive counseling to help her see her triggers, and therefore, she was mature enough to create a compromise to deal with my temporary use of alcohol.

even if it seems like a long period of time, six years is nothing when compared to 46.  i allowed myself to dip into this little interest after years of hating alcohol, because i realized how much that industry probably lobbied against marijuana legalization.

there are so many industries, to take a little side trip, that will want to prevent this.  first there are police unions.  i am not attempting to be racist here, but there is no better way to incarcerate more african americans than to bust them with some weed, and i continue to wonder how that racist prohibition continues to this day.  i have read text that indicates it was more suited to lock up the mexicans at first, but it worked so well with the african americans that they said “what the hell?”

then of course there are corrections unions.  all the people that make a living keeping all those locked up “animals” under control.  you know they don’t want to let anybody out any time soon.

then there are the investors that continue to maintain and build new private prisons.  free enterprise and capitalism lead to some kind of inspiration to continue to be the incarceration capital of the world.  if you break down the actual incarcerated population, you would find racial disparities that make me think people have ample reason to protest in furgeson.  i begin to want to compare the naacp to naafa in effectiveness, political agenda, and main focus.

maybe the recent investigation into that little police department was just a small step in many other changes that really, seriously need to take place in the future.

wow, it was so easy for me to be distracted.  so much injustice in the world, that so many people find so easy to ignore.  there is a little tiny track in the back of my mind that keeps track of shit like that, and maybe i should cut it loose so i don’t get so pissed off in forums that do not have anything to do with my own personal issues and aggravations.

bringing up how many times and how long candy left is relevant.  without professional therapy to deal with those events, and my behavior during, i am pretty much forced to seriously analyze myself when i pull something fucked up.  at least i am not getting locked up in the process.  if i do have “abusive tendencies”, i still seem to have some ability to redirect them in the least destructive way possible.

while my “social reputation” could be damaged by such outbursts, this forum is so obscure that nobody will see any of it anyway.  even if the moderator of the forum where i went off decided not to delete some of my horrible rant, i am willing to bet that the forum may be more active than it has ever been because of my participation, even if they are talking shit about me.

unlike so many sociopaths, i rather seem to enjoy gossip about me that i can’t see.  i don’t have any other means to express some kind of narcissistic megalomaniac personality, so i can achieve a level online that i really would not prefer to attempt in person.

i don’t think i am sociopathic, i think those guys are the ones that look like mr perfect until they get you alone and then use intimidation to keep you from “going to the cops”.

i tend to go totally crazy online every once in a while, then feel badly about it for a day or two, and then analyze the fuck out of myself for allowing myself to log in at all while that intoxicated.  it’s one thing to watch that television show “cops” and wonder why drunk people actually attempt to fight several cops at once.  i think there is a correlation between a virtual environment and that real life environment.

i think that if i am a troll down deep, i do it as “myself” instead of being anonymous.  one would assume that while i am using an identity that is readily available in other locations, i am taking a big public relations hit every time i pull this crazy shit.  in reality, i am just remaining relevant for just about the only thing besides candy that has ever made anybody ever notice me.

wow, the anatomy of a troll.  i don’t want to be a troll.  i am a good person.  i am really nice to people in real life.  i give people a lot of leeway in traffic, and i don’t have road rage.  i am so very patient with candy that most people could not even imagine, even when she is not in a good mood and totally goes off for almost no reason without being as drunk as i am when i do it.

at the same time, i have this ability to be really, really mean.  i can use minimal observations to create the most insulting or passive aggressive statements, and the worst part is, i am not even trying.  it just comes out.  it’s one thing if i was having to focus to be so mean, but it’s so fucking easy.  it comes to naturally to me that it scares me at times, and it should, if i want to be a better person over all.

i have to wonder if i have made it to age 46 with so many issues without being arrested or going suicide by cop because i have this ability to express my negativity in a relatively controlled environment.  even while totally intoxicated, i know the difference between being highly insulting and making terrorist threats…  i just don’t do that shit.  i came close to doing it at my very worst, when candy was gone, and i regret being that fucking creepy to this day.  those events contributed to the creation of a drunken character that i am forced to understand is just an extension of myself, down deep, and i don’t like it.

while candy was gone for eight months the last time, i went through an extraordinary transformation.  i had never been mean online, i would never imagine cursing people out, or making broad accusations, or calling people out for being fucking liars.

something happened when candy was gone, it probably started in the first four months while she was in virginia, and then when she want to boston, i experienced a total recurring nightmare.  candy has informed me on more than one occasion that i could have gotten her back much more quickly, but a part of me was trying so hard to let her go because she left for the second time.

i don’t think i have gotten over that period of time in it’s entirety just yet.  i think that there are lingering resentments, and while i used to be obnoxious and mean online to cope with her rejection, there is still a part of me that resorts to this behavior, and now that part of me is taking innocent online victims in the process.  my behavior in that forum is reprehensible, and i know it.  i understand though that i needed to go through that, and put other people through it in the process, in some selfish attempt to figure my own shit out.

while i would feel really bad for “using” people in some online forum to achieve this end, i also have to remind myself that they are a bunch of selfish, deviant, agenda driven motherfuckers who don’t give two shits about what i did, or who i am, or what it was all about.

maybe i needed to finally cultivate a selfish side too.  i was always too forgiving, to accommodating, too selfless.  i may have been the nice guy for so many years, even over a few decades, but i guess eventually it fucking wears off.  it’s ironic, how many women would like a nice guy, but they will tend to reject them over and over without even realizing it, because they are awkward, and don’t know how to look like mr right.  the guy who knows exactly what to say is the one you need to worry about.

while i used to be really nice, there has been some obvious modifications, because while i was still working through unresolved feelings of candy rejecting me in the past, some bitch came along and took me for nearly $300 and trashed a hotel room that i was nice enough to get for her while she was here.  being nice can get you fucked in the ass, and now i wonder if it’s all about candy’s past rejection, or the way that people have been fucking me over all my life, and continue to fuck me over to this day, and i am just not fucking taking it anymore.

my focus and fixation on this one little forum was just as potent and relentless as my participation here right now in this blog.  this leads me to believe that i wanted to type and type somewhere and be reminded about how i am typing in the wrong place, to a bunch of fuck heads who could never begin to understand it, even if they were offered the entire back story of this blog itself, because they don’t really fucking care.

every once in a while, you run into someone who sincerely cares.  they care enough not to offer unsolicited advice, or tell you where to go to find some social interaction that you have already said you are not interested in.  somewhere, buried in time and space, is our personal audience.  i have this image of the future, and i have no idea how to make it happen just yet, but because i can visualize it, i know it is inevitable.

i am motivated by my dreams, because when i was in high school, i had a recurring nightmare about having to repeat a year of high school.  i got busted with a joint in a cigarette pack right in my front pocket and was suspended.  i received the call from the school board, set up a hearing as my father, and never told them, so nobody showed up.

because of the traumatic way that the school administrators reached out to my parents, they had no interest in attending any hearing to be further humiliated.  i am reminded though, with the wisdom i have now, that it was wrong for them to confront me without legal counsel and try to bargain with me to rat someone out to save my school year.

i chose to repeat an entire year of high school instead of being a fucking rat.  maybe that was the beginning of a process that created so much real world experience that i would end up a hermit troll, making big statements online because i can no longer be partying it up when i have to take care of the one person in this reality that means more to me than my own life.

i had this anorexic looking undercover cop attempt to seduce me, to bust the best friend that i would later abandon because he smoked crack in my car against my wishes.

i found the love of my life, and told her that i would give up an open relationship because i had finally found the woman that could make me forget all others, and then she left me, twice.

i take responsibility for my part in all of this, because i was trying to do the right thing for the future, and for her, and it blew up in my face.  i can understand so much better why i would go to some obscure forum, attempt to befriend people, and then go the fuck off on them when they disappointed me exactly the way that i predicted they would.

a part of me knew candy would leave, both times.  i refused to acknowledge it, and continued to test her, because she tested me.  we were stuck in this loop of daring each other to just break up and get it over with.  we were miserable, but we loved each other more than anyone else in each other’s lives.  what a tragedy.

it’s no wonder we end up together now.  candy had to forsake all kinds of new, wonderful friends, because as much as most of them said they understood, they really don’t, and they never will.  they never really knew her, like i know her.  they will never know me, like she knows me.

i have given most of them every reason to hate me for the rest of my life, and the only one that really matters has attempted to let me know on so many occasions that she forgives me.  it is really beyond my own belief, how she could tolerate so much shit, from someone so currently insignificant, and still forgive me.  she is the closest thing to jesus i have ever known in this lifetime, in my 46 years.

i realize that i had to “blow up” again, just one more time, to teach myself a lesson.  i’m buzzed now, but i refuse to enter that state again after seeing for myself what i can do under it’s influence.  i am not worried about damage to “reputation”, because i am notorious for being such an amazing, incredible dick head.

i have had a busy day.  i can feel the energy draining as i have produced all of this potentially meaningless and incoherent text.  i have actually put up a new clip today, along with the shopping, and i should promote it, but that kind of takes care of itself when you open up to four different clip stores, all hungry.

i have created more work in the last few months than i have in the last few years.  candy has been so cooperative, that one might think that nearly breaking up that last and final third time opened both our fucking eyes.  i know i can’t get so fucked up.  i have somehow restrained myself today, because it is after midnight and i could not even finish the sixth beer.  that is a move in the right direction.

all of this focus on this blog at this time is not due to my interaction with the forum recently.  i believe that the opposite is true.  i needed to create that distraction there, in order for me to realize that i needed to redirect my writing back here.

now, i create photos and videos as a ‘job’ and i can release excess energy in my writing instead of bugging candy or any useless forum with my manic rambling.  i can redirect it here and get “writing practice” too, and it isn’t wasted on emails to empty vessels or groups with endless agendas…  it is all mine… 🙂

 

 

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