Posts tagged troll

over a decade

0

I wonder myself sometimes how everything that has happened has actually happened.  The thought of Candy leaving twice, and my going literally insane both times is such a weird set of memories to process.  I know that there are times that I still experience the anxiety I felt at that time out of the blue, with no additional stimulus required.  At the same time, when real shit is doing down in my life I tend to use another type of anxiety to motivate, inspire, and push myself into doing what needs to be done.

There are times I have had some pretty heavy duty shit going on, like having to pull a huge, heavy fuel tank off a big ass van to replace the fuel pump, or pull the dash apart to replace an automotive computer.  Those two things were just last year, and while I do consider myself a hobby mechanic, both of those jobs were things I had not done before, and I had to face a certain type of anxiety in order to successfully complete both of them, and still have working transportation that is paid for, and amazes me to this day that it is still going.

The biggest obstacles I have come across in my life never came anywhere near the level of intensity I felt when I lost Candy.  It was as if everything in my life before those events meant absolutely nothing.  All the accomplishments, all the hurdles overcome, all the disappointment, all the pain, none of it meant anything when I lost the one person in the world that I felt I loved more than anyone or anything else.

I literally wanted to drink myself to death.  I went online and I started to reject everything I held dear all of my life.  I started to become the absolute worst troll that even I had ever come across in the realm of ‘SSBBW’ or super size big beautiful women.  I would not lash out so much at individuals, except for a very small handful of people who were directly involved, because they cared enough to save Candy from me if I wasn’t making her happy.

I would go into every fat specific area of the internet I could find to bitch and raise hell about how I should not be attracted to women who look like this.  I should not be in such pain because I chose someone to love who would leave me.  I was lashing out partially because I was severely intoxicated most of the time, but also because I was hurt deeper than I had ever been hurt in my life.

I am still resolving feelings of guilt over how I acted.  I have apologized over and over to one person who was mature enough not to take any of it too personally in the first place.  I have wondered what must be going through the minds of people who Candy met and interacted with while she was gone, only to run back to me, after previous accusations of abuse.

We were in a destructive, abusive relationship for at least one or two years before the point where she left, but we didn’t realize it, because there were circumstances that Candy wasn’t fully aware of that triggered negative behavior in her.  When Candy and I met, we were both potheads.  She had what amounted to a near allergic reaction to alcoholics.  She had previous family history with alcoholics, and she herself feels as if she went through a period of alcoholism in her earlier years before we ever met.

When I made the brilliant decision to stop smoking pot and start drinking in it’s place, that created an environment where I would start drinking in the evening, and as I got more and more intoxicated, Candy would grow more and more anxious and upset.  If I were to talk a little too much, or about the wrong subjects while intoxicated, it would give her the reason she was looking for to just “go off” on me.  I had a great deal of restraint, after being through everything I have been through back in Florida with Alexis, so I would let it go.

There were just a few times when I would have gotten upset along with her for being upset, and I would allow an argument to escalate to a certain point.  Then, I would get tired out from being drunk and just want to quit arguing, usually before anything significant happened.

One evening, things did get really intense, and rather than cooling off and calming down, Candy made a snap decision to take off.  She wasn’t just leaving for a day, or a few days, she was packing a back to move out completely.  Because she had just done the same thing a few months before, I started to reach a point where I didn’t want her to come back.  I had been so hurt by her leaving the last time, and so excited when she came back, that watching her leave yet again would have me telling myself that I didn’t deserve that shit, I was over it, and I can’t be in love with someone who leaves me over little shit.

For the first few weeks she was gone, she had probably intended to come back all along.  Because I entered this mindset of believing I didn’t want her back, I would allow myself to get drunk and log on Facebook to rant and rave about how shitty it was for her to leave the way she did, and how she was “not a good girlfriend” if she was going to use this tactic of leaving me to control me.

At one point, maybe 2 and a half weeks in, I got so drunk that I posted some really horrible shit on Facebook, where instead of complaining, I started getting highly insulting.  At that point, any thought Candy had of coming back started to evaporate, and instead of getting her back sooner, I pushed her away for even longer.

After about 3 months of doing nothing but getting drunk every single day and passing out, I finally decided to get back out there and try to meet people.  The first attempt was this woman in her 20’s who I talked to on the phone.  She acted like she really wanted to meet right away, so she suggested I go to some bar to meet up with her.  She totally stood me up.  I tried calling her, no answer, of course, she knew what she was doing.

I will never forget the drive home from that place, how depressing it was, and how everything I passed on the way home reminded me of being with Candy.  I was reminded of how much I loved and missed her, and I was hurt so very deeply to have the first moment of encouragement turn out to be another taunt by life itself.

I didn’t try to contact that woman, but a few days later she sent me an email trying to apologize.  I basically cursed her out, told her how useless and pathetic she was for doing that to me, and I told her not to contact me anymore.  I also wrote out at least 3 pretty harsh jokes about her having only one hand.  I know that was totally uncalled for now, but it felt good at the time to do it.  She was writing me as if there was some big misunderstanding about the plans she had made with me.  She may have attempted to say she “chickened out”, but it didn’t matter.  She was already putting me in the position of meeting her “with friends”, which I absolutely hate doing.  Then, after agreeing to that really shitty scenario, she stood me up.

I stayed at that bar until around 1am, not because I had hope she would show up, but because I wanted to put myself through the misery of being someplace I didn’t want to be because some bitch lied me into going in the first place.  I wanted to absorb all of that negative emotion for as long as I could stand it, until I really wanted to go home and slam more vodka.

There was no giving up at that point though.  I had to meet someone.  Hanging out with old alcoholic guys was more depressing than being alone, and the more I was alone, the more time I had to act like a total dickhead on Facebook.  I believe a part of me hates Facebook to this day for giving me an outlet to make such an ass of myself.  I still get drunk and act stupid online, but I am not mean, depressed, and cruel to people.

When that woman stood me up on the very first date planned since Candy left, it reminded me of the long, hard road ahead in finding someone I am attracted to, who was available, who I could trust.  The person I was at that time would not allow me to find the “perfect woman for me” though, because I wasn’t myself.  I was lying to myself about not being in love with Candy and wanting her back, so I would naturally lie to myself about the kind of woman I would be truly happy with.

One woman was so physically awesome, and she agreed to model, and I still have yet to figure out what site I want to add her to.  It has been nearly 4 years since I took those photos, and I have yet to ever use any of them.  A part of me looks at that work as inferior because i was so very drunk most of the time.  Another part of me looks at that work and feels the pain I was in at that time.  Something has blocked me from using those photos, even though I have an ID, a model release, and she is physically amazing and impressive as a SSBBW.

unnamed ssbbw

unnamed ssbbw

It was awesome and amazing to meet someone so physically amazing and incredible.  I would have been instantly in love with her appearance with the hopes that her personality would not let me down.  She was unavailable though, of course.  She was available to mess around, but she was living in a situation that prevented any possibility of us being together.

This was another harsh reminder to me of the long hard road ahead in finding someone I could love like Candy.  The first woman to appear and actually come through and meet me would turn out to be someone that I would never have a chance of being with.  A woman who I could probably be content to be monogamous with for the rest of my life is just another fantasy.  Of course.

I didn’t give up though, I kept searching, and I reached another compromise.  There was one woman who was kind of aggressive online about wanting to meet up, but at the same time, she was a certain “type” that I was always hesitant to get involved with heavily.  I’ll just say it, she was a freaking “christian”.  She was eager to meet me though, and that seemed to be a rare occurrence for me in the online dating world, so I agreed to meet with her.

the christian bbw

the christian bbw

She was beautiful, and happened to remind me of someone from the distant past facially.  She had full, sexy arms, and DDD breasts, but she had kind of the typical “top heavy” figure, which has never been my total favorite.  Anyone who has seen images of Candy would realize quickly that her mass is more heavily distributed on the lower half.

Since as long as I can remember, there has been this thing about larger thighs.  In a previous post, I went into great detail about a theory that I have about being near sighted as a child and going years without wearing glasses.  I may have started to distinguish male from female by body shape more heavily than face, and because I had such an intense sexuality, I started to become attracted to larger and larger representations of visual femininity in the body.  I could recognize someone from a great distance before seeing their face by seeing their shape and even their walk.  I still do this, because I can recognize some people from a distance, looking at their back while they walk away.  I once picked out a woman I knew in a crowded mall on a Saturday from the second floor while she walked away on the first floor a great distance below and away from me.

Because of this, I have to admit even to myself that I developed a kind of “fetish” for large thighs.  I tried to overcome this, because I kept telling myself that I didn’t love Candy, I was no longer attracted to Candy, and I was not going to limit my potential sexual partners to women who are “Super sized” or super morbidly obese, who happen to have large thighs too.  That was too specific for my old, ugly, drunk ass.

I kind of settled, which is horrible, and I still feel guilt over how it hurt her when I had to tell her Candy was coming back.  I settled on her being religious, her being top heavy, and her being kind of distant and controlling herself.  It’s not like I wasn’t attracted to her, because at her size, with her shape, I could do things with her that I could not physically accomplish with Candy, ever.  She could literally ride me to the point where I was struggling to control climax.  Having those pendulous breasts swinging in my face while she gyrated on top of me was something that was kind of “new” to me, and it was literally amazing.

I know that sex is not the only thing that can keep a relationship together, and while I was still fixated on my preference for large thighs, I would end up cheating on the christian in order to see and photograph the unavailable ssbbw.  One time they actually passed each other in the parking lot because I was such a bastard.  I can’t believe that I was able to pull off that kind of timing while I was so hopelessly intoxicated most of the time.

By the time I started to “date” again, I did reduce the drinking a great deal.  I also got a job, which surprised even me at the time.  I didn’t just get a job, I got 2 offers and had to choose between them.  I also pulled that off just weeks before it would have bankrupted me to pay rent before getting the first paycheck.  My timing does seem pretty amazing, even when I am impaired.

I must have been dating the christian for a few months, because it really hurt her when I sat her down and told her that Candy was coming back to me.  I had to also admit that I had been talking to Candy behind her back, and that I loved Candy all along, even if I was trying to lie to myself about not loving her because she left me.

All of this seems to have wanted to come out of me today because it has been a few months since I had to hurt someone else emotionally, when Candy thought she wanted to leave and somehow we managed to work it out yet again.  I thought there was no way that I could have met someone that I would be so fond of while I was still living with Candy, even if she was planning to leave.  Maybe the fact that she didn’t just eject herself much faster gave me some kind of ability to find and meet exactly the kind of woman I would want to be with after she was gone.

That hurt me this time.  I had a few months to get to know someone who is physically amazing and complex intellectually.  Because Candy was leaving yet again, I was giving myself an opportunity to find the near perfect woman while Candy was still with me.  Of course, the second I find one that seemed to be really compatible, and have real potential, it would be ripped away from me because I cannot resist the loyalty of my love for Candy, and she changed her mind yet again.

Being with Candy for over a decade, I have been through more emotional turmoil than ever in my life.  That is saying a lot, since I lost my very first SSBBW porn site in a divorce when I left Lexi in Florida.  I was so young and foolish and impulsive, and even way back then, I had a level of maturity to realize that I had to leave that situation or I was going to end up getting in more and more trouble over time.

I have managed to resolve a lot of my feelings about Alexis, and what I went through in Florida, but it still impresses me that I was able to walk away from “my baby”.  i cared more about that first website, fatfantasy.net, than I ever cared about Alexis, and that’s exactly why it had to be given up, to save myself.

me and alexis so long ago

me and alexis so long ago

Now I have to deal with unresolved feelings from when I was a total dickweed on Facebook while Candy was gone both times.  I have to deal with the guilt of how I treated all the people involved who were just trying to help Candy, and they didn’t even love her the way I do.  I still have issues with getting intense and typing too much in a place I shouldn’t be while I am somewhat intoxicated, but nothing reaches the level of pure crazy that I dove into while Candy was gone both times.

I had to break someone’s heart because I could not choose them over Candy.  Not just because of the time I have known her, but because the intense level of emotion that has developed over that time.  Now I have to deal with that too.  I’m getting better, not letting myself get as drunk as I used to.  I try harder to resist the temptation to log on to social media when I pass a certain level of intoxication, but sometimes it is just too tempting, and too satisfying.

Writing while intoxicated is something that I picked up as a kind of coping mechanism to deal with the loss and pain of Candy leaving both of those times.  For a period of maybe a year or so since being in Vegas, Candy’s decisions kept me in a kind of emotional stasis where I had to go back to those habits to deal with what I was feeling at the time.

It’s amazing, that Candy and I were falling apart because we were staying in different rooms during the day, and the little interaction she got with me was when I would bust into the bedroom ranting about something on the news or something I saw online.  I failed to see how just being apart from each other, even in the same residence, was slowly destroying our relationship.  It would seem so obvious to anyone on the outside, but I was blinded by my bias, my emotions, and my past experiences.

I’m getting better, I’m writing this on day 6 without a cigarette, or I should say a real cigarette.  I’m still using nicotine replacement, with the nicotine patches and an e-cig, only for use when cravings reach a level of intensity that make me want to give up and buy a pack of cigarettes.  I’m limiting myself to a 12 pack of beer over a 2 day period, trying to give myself a break for a day or 2 between 12 packs.  If I drink more than 6 beers in one day, I am limiting my future intake the next day, and I won’t let myself buy more.

I still get loaded and type, but now my mood is so different.  I’m dealing with a lot of shit, and a lot of unresolved feelings, but I feel as if I am slowly stumbling out of some kind of haze that I have been living in for the past 3 to 4 years.  It’s not just the alcohol, it’s the experience of how different I am and felt before I started drinking to begin with.   It’s not like I am a life long alcoholic, I just started using it seriously after 40, and I’m 46 now.  I used to hate alcohol because I knew it was put in place as a sedative to get people to stop doing ALL OTHER DRUGS, which is pure and total bullshit.

I’m not just for marijuana legalization, I believe that all kinds of psychedelics should be legal too, because humans were given this huge brain to use in ways that our current proper and prudish society are literally SCARED TO USE.  After reading authors like Timothy Leary and Richard Alpert, I realize that there is great potential and discovery in using these drugs to stimulate parts of the brain that were probably created because humans were doing that shit millions of years ago to begin with!  Of course, if you are a hardcore christian, you might believe there is no way this planet can be that old.  That’s why I can’t get along with christians.

I have read studies about using LSD to cure alcoholism, and there are times I have to wonder if I inflicted that horrible disease on myself just to figure out how to cure myself later.  I compare that theory to the way that I suspect some plus sized models have a goal point to reach before they get weight loss surgery and start the process all over again.

I have a lot of crazy theories, and none of the education required to truly experiment with them.  My most intense theories are the ones I have about how one develops a fat fetish to begin with.  That thing about body recognition and a need for a super feminine form is a pretty good one.

Ok, now I’m rambling, and going off course.  This post should have ended when I used the term “over a decade” out of respect to the title. 🙂

 

 

mr hyde

0

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… 🙂

 

 

trollgasm

0

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

 

 

Go to Top