i got this necklace about 5 years ago. well, actually, i got this particular one 3 years ago, because the original was stolen and then destroyed. but you see what i`m sayin. this thing has, sorta, been with me fer a while now. i have a couple friends in c`ville virginia and they have tables set up on the downtown mall there. that`s where i got it.

a little old lady in new hampshire makes solid silver pieces, she made this one, all by her own molds. she melts and pours everything. (this is goin by what they`d told me. they`re reliable and professional as hell, so i believe it.) she also doesn`t like to make duplicates. so when the first got gone, it took me several months to convince her to make a second. it cost me though. the first ran me $90. the one in the picture ran me $200. but it was worth. i felt, and feel naked without it.

a close friend of mine in crozet virginia had given me a solid silver rope that was about as big around as my pinky and was around 65 years old, just a few months after i`d bought the first one of these. together they were heavy as hell, but i wore em both everyday. swore i`d never not wear em.

but...

about a year and a half ago, i was waitin in the car whilst a friend of mine was scorin from the dope man, and got the idea that i might get some goodies fer it. (i decided between the two, and kept the one you see.) i ended up getting a handful of pills for it. i felt like shit fer tradin it off no sooner than i`d done it, but it was done. the old guy i traded it to is mountains to the fuckin bone, too. i fear goin back up there around those crazy fuckin necks to attempt getting it back. i know as greedy as they are, i could buy it back fer $50 er so. but it still requires going up there. (these are pullin-guns-on-folks-they`re-not-sure-about-rednecks.) but i feel like hell that i don`t have it.

in june, my friend that gave it to me wants me to come out and stay fer a few weeks. i hate to ponder what he`ll think when he see`s that i don`t have it, but still have this one. i screwed those folks over more than alot when i lived there. i`d hate to do it again with some silly addict shit like this. that thing meant alot to him, and fer him to give it away, meant alot to me.

i may take this trip when i get my pell check, and i may not. but i`m thinkin this needs to be done. not so much fer his feelings about the matter`s sake, but fer my own peice of mind.


alive awake and aware 

snow-mobean 

from james frey's 'a million little pieces'

the young man came to the old man seeking counsel.

i broke something, old man.

how badly is it broken?

it's in a million little pieces.

i'm afraid i can't help you.

why?

there's nothing you can do.

why?

it can't be fixed.

why?

it's broken beyond repain. it's in a million little pieces.

once thought to be unfixable adam

i haven't had a cigarette in two WHOLE days.

found this old place in the woods a few miles from don's place too. all i could think was, "DAMMIT! you just hafta be dateless when there's apefectly good fuck shack, RIGHT OVER THERE!!" 

went to my friend hippy don's place fer a few and laid back in the woods. i finally got a chance to check out the old bomb shelter behind his joint. i could totally live in that thing. 

i went on a small trip fer new years with a friend. this was along our way. i b'lieve it's called 'lover's leap'. 

i am going out of town.

woo...

and may i say, hah.

i am also on 'the patch'. it's, yet another, attempt at not smokin. i have tried many times. this...seems to be going well. i was up to almost 2 packs a day. it's presently 5pm and i have had 3 since 10am.

i will say this, though...

i am an edgy prick without the actual ACT of smokin.

adam as fuck

outside.

wilson street.


my street.


from my porch.


from my yard. (the twinkles're snowflakes.)





adam as fuck

this time last year i was at the end of, what i hope to be, my last binge on whatever intoxicants i could get ahold of.(my drug of cjoice was more.) fer about a week i had been stealin folks blind of whatever they had. i ripped a guy fer an entire bottle of methadone(dec. 19th), i went and hung out with a chick who i met in rehab and stole a bottle of lortab 10, xanax, soma, and vicodin totalin about 130 pills(dec. 21st). on the 22nd, i was doin the dope i had stolen the night before with a chick who had a sript of methadone, in hopes of gettin some of said methadone, but she wouldn`t come off of any. so i decided, wasted fuckin high as i was, that since it had worked so well the past few times, that i was gonna rip her, too.

she caught me.

which is a damn good thing. after somewhere around 20 tab 10`s, 15 xanax, a handful of soma, and a case and 1/2 of beer, had a piled three 45Mg methadose on top of it, i woulda been found a pale shade of blue the next mornin. i think about that now and i truly realize how lucky i was to get busted. at the time, i was sorta pissed that i didn`t make out with anything.

i got my mother to pick me up that night. (keep in mind that this woman had put up with my father, then had to deal with me ferfuckinever as she tried her best to help me get clean fer a few years. she spent alotta money.) she knew i was wasted when she got there, but i did the ol "nah man. i`m not high. i`m just tired" routine.

at this point, i had been goin to meetings again fer a few weeks and had already started showin up high to em.

after bein home fer a few and tryin to walk around the house as if i had some sort of important business to tend to, i sat down on the couch, turned the t.v. off, and looked at my mother and said, "i don`t know why i`m doin this. you know i`m high. I know i`m fuckin high. i don`t know why i`m lying to you."

it was probably the most honest thing that came from my mouth in years.

the next day, i woke up to my mother givin me the cold mom shoulder. it was expected. she said she was goin out fer a while and, at the time, i was glad. i thought i needed to clear my head. i just didn`t know, at the time, how to go about it correctly.

i knew i had two beers and a soma around somewhere, so as soon as she was gone, i hunted em up. they didn`t do much but make me think i felt better. they actually did nothin of the sort. i called my sponce. that was the first right decision i`d made in quite some time.

mom had made me call him the night before. when i was high. i told her i couldn`t, that i was already high, and that he would be pissed if i called him and told him i had used.

there`s a sayin in the program.

the time to call yer sponsor is before, not after.

he just told me to call him back when i got my head straightened out the next day.

i don`t rememeber a damn thing about that conversation except him tellin me to get to a meeting. so, on tuesday, dec 23rd, i went to a meeting, and i listened. i took the cotton outta my fuckin ears fer a change and i put it in my mouth. i shut the fuck up and listened.

the next day, xmas eve, was my first day clean. there was somethin about that day that seemed different from all my other 1st days. i couldn`t explain it, so i didn`t try. i had tried to tell everyone in my family so many times that things were gonna be different this time. i knew there was no way to let them know that it was truly different, but to show em.

i thought that every time i had gotten clean that this was the time. it always felt right, somehow. but i never tried to do it any way but my own, and i always ended up high again within a couple months er so. when i finally got it, when i finally learned how to deal with this fucked up world on it`s own terms and realize that my way gets me no fuckin where, and that my way takes me nowhere but to where i`ve already been, i saw that i had to do things the exact opposite of my way.

over the years, i`ve stopped and taken alotta looks back. all addicts do it. it`s so we can fully regret everything that we may want to use as a future excuse fer our active addiction. i`d think, "last year at this time you had just gotten outta rehab and had started doin duragesic patches with darron, and here you still fuckin are. yer still fucked up. another year fuckin wasted you fuckin punk."

in may of this year, that was close to what i was thinkin, but fer the first time, i was lookin at the past and seein that i hadn`t been fucked up and wastin time since then. i had only been high fer half of that time. i had been clean fer almost six months then. it was the first time i had thought about my past and felt no regret. i had finally gotten to the point where that sensation had left me. they were lessons, not things that made me squirm as i tried to sleep at night. i had gotten past my past.

tonight, i spoke at a meeting about gratitude, and how it`s still so easy to become complacent in my new thinking. i can still take things fer granted like no one`s business. i can still get pissed off over silly shit and let it eat my day. the difference is, i know how to deal with that shit now. i know i don`t have to numb myself to get through.

there is nothing that can happen to me now, that can compare, in any way, to the horrible shit i put myself through fer years.

i don`t have to pile my problems until they sway at the top.

i can live.


adam as fuck

at long last, i have returned.

it's been quite some time since last i was able to post, but the amazon is tricky thatta way. it's difficult to find internet access when yer in the thick of the bush, my friends. difficult indeed.

eh, we all know that's bullshit, right? yea, i was studyin and shit. finished up the semster a few days ago, AND, made the fuckin dean's list, to boot.

heh, to boot.

who woulda thunk they'd let an ex-junkie on some guys list, fer chrissakes?!?

anyways. i had this music appreciation class. the past month er so we had been playin the recorder. i know i know. yer sayin, "dude. recorders're so laaaaaaame." and you would be right, iffin you weren't talkin to ME and ME just so happens to be a fuckin recorder virtuoso. i tell you, you haven't heard beethoven flow with such grace as you have on my $3 plastic screech whistle. it's fuckin beautiful.

so the exam in that class was s'posed to be a lil recorder concert at various locations across campus. everybody in the class was terrified from embarassment.

"but jessica, what if nick see's me playin this silly thing? i would just DIE?"

*gasp...and...faint*

I, on the other hand was stoked as hell to be doin it. i thought it was a grand idea. i couldn't wait.
BUT, no one showed up due to incliment weather and we ended up playin fer all of 2 minutes and callin it quits and everyone got A's. so, no loss. i just hung around fer the rest of the day abangin away on the steel drum.

i gotta digital camera. here's me in all of my digital smoothitude.



yea boy.


adam_as_fuck

shimmy shimmy yah shimmy yam shimmy yeh.

DAMMIT!!

stevie wonder's next. i just know it.


adam_as_fuck™

shew boy.

at long last my internet addiction has begun to subside. fer a while there, anytime i had free time i was perched right here in my chair, fer hours, on swiddum (swydm). i`ve started to slack off on that in the past bit. i`m glad. it means i`m actually doin somethin now. i remember when i first joined that site i was thinkin about how i told folks that i painted and drew and sang and did all this shit, that i realized after a couple weeks i wasn`t fuckin doin anymore.

i felt like a fuckin liar. and it pissed me off.

i`ve since gotten away from those things almost entirely. not because of swiddum, but because it takes, these days, some type of emotional fury fer me to do those things and feel a sense of accomplishment from em. fer a while i tried to force myself to paint and all i got from it was aggravated. there was no turmoil, good er bad, to put into it.

i have yet to figger out how to paint serenity. i don`t grow durin the good times. i grow when shit...gets.. ugly.

lately, i`ve gotten so involved with other things that when i do get on-line, it`s breifly and with very few words (werds). this was only a problem because of one thing.

my big fat fucking ego. (ego`s are big and green. i bet you didn`t know that.)

now realize, before you read on, that these were things that were goin through my head as my junkie, drug addled, egotistical, my stuff kicks the shit outta yer wussy stuff mind was whisperin to me, and that i'm talkin about another site.

when i started slackin off on journal entries to the point where they were just a few lines of whatever i could squeeze out at the time, i thought this...

dammit. these folks are gonna be so pissed when they come into my journal expectin a buncha entertainin shit and all i`ve given em is a few lines of crap. dude, they`re gonna be so mad. these people LOVE my stuff. i am, after all, 4th most read on this site.*huffs on fingernails and proceeds to polish on shirt*

when i saw that, when the month had changed and the journal reads had started over again, i wasn`t in the top 5 anymore (oh, woe is poor lil muhfuggin me), my pointed lil head said this.

why are there so many people ahead of me in the top 10 journals? there stuff isn`t as good as mine. what the fuck? i`ve read that journal, it SUCKS! why would anybody wanna read that when my stuff is right there just waitin fer em?. just waitin to WOW em with it`s raw and open honesty.

yea boy, all three lines of it.

eheh. jackass.

when i realized i wasn`t really readin all the journals that i had previously been keepin up with, er commentin in any of the ones i was readin, i thought...

man, they probably think i`m stuck up er somethin all of a sudden. they probably think i`m an asshole cuz my name hasn`t been on the readership of their blog. i bet they`re mad cuz i didn`t comment when i was in there.

see...how that works? sometimes i was thinkin that folks had nothin better to do than to hop on-line fer the sole purpose of gettin to my journal. like they waited impatiently fer me to update, and when i did, they`d break their fuckin fingers tryin to get to it.

it takes very little fer my egocentric side to show it`s over-sized mudbrain. (i like when lowercase d`s and b`s sit back to back. it`s cool.)

but i`ve finally found this combination of things in my life that i`m now content with my day to day thing. i finally feel like i have a life. so what if i don`t write as much as i was? this thing isn`t fer them. it`s fer me.

and i totally forgot that fer a while there.

now, if you`ll excuse me, i`m gonna go throw some neko in my case and eat some cheese.

himmin and ahawwin

a summation of things of weeks paaed.

-newcomers at every meeting. (hell fuck yea.)

-realized sugar intake had reached 5lbs a week, dropped it. (subsequently lowered coffee consumption.)

-saw photo of self and said, "DAMN SELF, EAT A FUCKIN SANDWICH!" (i'm far too skinny, see?)

-started eating like a mofo. (start goin to gym tomorrow.)

-last night, my car blew up.

-today, fixed my car. (i am the ruler of waterpumpland.)

-tonight, i am tired as fugg.

tommorow is the start of an week long series of n.a. parties and gatherings and such. i love things of a celebratory nature that contain no intoxicants. few and far between, they are. i've been waitin fer this week fer weeks.

yea boy.

so yea, my car's fixed, and i fixed it. that kicks ass. i was almost totally screwed transportationally. that wouldn't have kicked any ass whatsoever.

now, it is time to sit back and tear through another few pages of nicholson baker's "the fermata."

it is, indeed, good shit.

the reason i'm reading it you ask? cuz someone said it was right up my depraved lil alley.

hell, and may i say, fuck yea.

cuz they were right....and stuff.



-

behhhhh be ded ede dun dun dehhhhhghghgh.

it's a damn good thing this thing let me in here today.
i've been havin troubles with it.

but the reason it's so fortunate is my abundance of exigence at present.

fuck, man.

it seems the honesty in my usual blog has been affected due to a stalker. not just yer ordinary internet stalker, mind you. she lives two minutes from my friggin house.

shit.

it's the strangest thing. first off, why me? why the hell would you wanna stalk me? makes no sense. second of all, what part of "yes i will give you a ride home" sounds like "integrate yerself in every facett of my life by skulking aroiund in the shadows and actin as if yer some anonymous random fuck who really has no idea who i am and yer just curious about the things i write about."

WHAT PART?

what's worse is i thought this chick was pretty cool. i liked her. LIKED her. so, in my other blog, she was mentioned a couple times. it's not often i meet new folks that i like. so there she was this mornin, with her hidden bullshit readin my blog and askin questions as if she were someone else. then calls me 7 different times from 4 different places over the course of 2 hours this afternoon. i was gone, and not once did she leave a message.

i ask you, double yew tee ef?

eheh.

ahhhhhhhh, shit. whatever. i found out yesterday that i am the proud owner of a body that contains no hepatitis c.

which is a good thing.

it went along just fine with the hiv results that came back negative as well.

although i had someone callme a hypochindriac fer worryin about it in the first place.

idiot. i told the guy, fer 13 years i had an enormous penchant fer dirty needles and fast and everso loose women.

i had a helluva lotta reason to worry.

dink.

g'bye now.

i swear to GOD that fuggin post wasn't there a minute ago. but i'm leavin the other one cuz it's DAMN funny to me.

i even refreshed the page like six times to make sure.

damn.

ruin MY day will you?

i just updated and this peice acrap ate it.

fucker.

anyway. here's the rundown.

it's rainin. it's cold. it's saturday. nothin to do. went to a meetin and saw a guy i hadn't seen in a long time. he blows me away. he went to 4 meetins in a single day a while back when his son was killed. he's a light.

it was all real fuggin detailed a minute ago.

the bastard.

today makes 9 months clean.

duck fights of solstice passed.

oh me, oh my.

so, it's a fine blustery saturday addernoon here in scenic pillville, virginia.

yeeeeaaaa boy.

i like these days though. nothin to do. just lay about. thinkin about cuttin my hair again. i did it about a week ago. but i don't like it. i may shave it all the hell down. who knows? i may have a friend do it. if i do, it'll be the first time anyone but myself has touched my head with a cuttin implement in almost ten years. change is change though. can't go wrong.

i was at a meetin last night and this guy louie showed up. i hadn't seen him since i first got clean. he lives in a different area than me, so we don't get to the same meetins too often. the thing about louie is that he's a fuggin light, man. a couple years ago i was at a meetin, i was high, and louie showed up. it was his 3rd meetin that day. his son had been killed in a car accident. he stayed fer about 30 minutes then took off to go to another meetin. it blew me away. he knew what he needed to do to stay clean, and he did the hell out of it.

a light, i tell you.

t'ain't a helluva lot doin round these parts today. just the way it should be on a rainy saturday addernoon.

TODAY.....................makes 9 months clean.

who woulda thunk it?

i took an hiv test yesterday. i had wanted to do so fer quite some time now. but i have the uncanny ability to beat back moments of clarity with a stick. i wanted to take a hepatitis test as well, but i had to make an appointment with a physician fer that.

i'm goin out of my mind. i usta follow the theory of "if i ignore it, it will eventually go away." it never does. but i was able to forget about things fer a while. i knew that i'd have states of panic throughout this 2 weeks of waitin fer my test results. i just had no idea it would be so soon.

i'm a fuckin mess.

i went to class tonight and all i could think about was how much my chest hurts. how scared i am. mortality has never had such a presence fer me. i've never felt so human. i had to get away from drugs because i knw they would kill me. now i have two weeks to wait before i can find out if somethin else is gonna do it in their place.

i keep hearin folks tellin me everything's gonna be fine. that i have nothin to worry about.

"awwwwwwwwww. don't worry. i'm SURE it's gonna be fine."

this is what i'm hearin from folks who have only known me since i've been clean. people who don't know what an active addict is willin to do. the forethought and personal safety an active addict foregoes fer the sake of their high.

i lay in bed some nights and cringe at the thought of every dirty needle i've put into my arms. i think of the fact that i didn't care. i knew they were dirty, and i didn't care.

i can count on one hand the amount of times i've had protected sex. i've had 73 partners.

i thought i had finally reched a point that i had no regrets about my past. that i had learned a lesson from every mistake i've ever made. i was grateful upon realizin that if it wasn't fer what i've done, i woundn't be who and where i am.

now i'm filled with all that regret and self hatred that i thought would never return unless i started usin again. i can't stand to recall of the thoughtlesness of my past and how much i've taken everythin fer granted. it never crossed my mind until today that i was truly mortal. that all this could be gone at any moment. that without even knowin it, i've killed myself. because i lacked the sense to not stick a fuckin needle in my arm after it had been someone else's. because i was too god damn lazy to put a fuckin rubber on. because i couldn't handle life. i wanted the easier softer way. a this is the farthest thing from it.

i know this is just me facin the wreckage of my past. this is somethin i have to do. and no amount of worryin is gonna change the results of those tests. i'll have to deal with whatever the hell comes along. whatever it is, i'll have to take it. i know all this, but it doesn't stop my junkie fuckin head from tearin itself apart.

what scares me the most is when i get like this and i know what the problem stems from and why i have to go through this in the first place, the first thing that crosses my mind is to go back to it all. to numb myself. to stop feelin again. to ignore it.

it's the root of my sufferin and all i want is to have it back.

i know it will kill me faster than anythin else, and sometimes, i still want it the fuck back.

wide ruled

i despise feelin like all those internet dinks i poke fun at fer fallin fer folks they meet on-line. i've got a buddy named prune who's been datin nothin but chicks he's met on the internet fer about 8 years now. he flies em in from alaska and shit all the damn time. though i haven't seen prune in a few, maybe one of his internet snow bunnies hacked his big ass up and took him back to alaska fer fish bait. it'd be only fittin considerin the amount of shit i've given him fer hookin up with those crazies in the first place.

actually it would just feel good to be right. nothin like a good, "I TOLD YOU SO, JACKASS FACE!!"

but here i am and i'm doin the same fuggin thing. to a "T" i'm doin the same thing. i met this girl from canada months and months ago and things have progressed. we're not in love by any standards, but i am most assuredly as smitten as the song is long.

i am in deep smit.

our e-mails are turnin into a story worthy of a novel. it's gettin insane. what's worse is she's, to the best of my calculations, 1603 miles away. it's one thing to be abstinent and not have anyone with you on purpose, but it's another thing to find someone and not be able to be there. to be there and actually see if they're the person you feel they are. i've been lonely, but this is complete helplessness added to it.

the more i write about it the more stupid i feel fer this affectin me the way it is. but i think the bigger problem is knowin that it isn't completely impossible fer us to meet someday. the problem is my lack of patience and the inability to deal with not knowin. not knowin when er how it could ever happen.

ahhhhhhh fuck i'm a loser man.

does anyone else actually ever still do this?

except tammy, i mean. tammy hun, i know how you feel about me and it just isn't gonna work. i've found someone else and yer just gonna hafta move on sweety. that's just the way it is.

be gold.

i swear i'm not mad. dammit.

i'll never understand people. so, there you go.

the reason i'll never understand people is the fact that i have such a hard time understandin myself. though when i figger somethin out about myself, i never forget it. so when someone fucks around and starts doin the avoidance thing with me cuz they're either...

a: to insecure to be honest with anyone fer fear of a confrontation.

b: to all out fucin shady about what they're doin to even come close to bein truthful in the first damn place.

the way i seee it, i've fought like fuckin hell to get where i am and to be completely honest open-minded and willin so i can survive this band-aid biscuit called life, and had to fight addiction to do it.

SO WHAT THE FUCK IS THEIR EXCUSE?

buncha fuckin pansies to wrapped up in themselves to let anyone know what the situation is.

"oh oh oh, poor me and these difficult decisions. what words to use? how should i do this? what will become of poor lil ol me when i do this?"

what, indeed? so from my experience, this is what generally happens...

"well, i guess i'll skip all that and just make myself feel better by avoidin the whole thing and never tell anyone anything and just proceed to fuck with everyone's heads so that someday i too can be remembered as that fucked up chick who dicked everyone over and eventually became nothin more than a metaphorical shooter in a tower somewhere pickin off folk's well-being with a 12-gauge shot game. (you like that? see what i did there? gun/game. yea i like it too.)

i'm not as pissed off as this entry is makin me out to be. at least not about this one situation. what pisses me off about this petty elemenatary school crap is how often it happens. folks everyday just up and runnin from their fears and insecurities. get the fuck over it. the only way to fix any of that shit is to get it out of yer head and into words.

buncha bitches.


the_skin_im_in

Yer Always Gonna Trip On Things You Can't Find

in the past 8 months of not gettin high, i`ve become more and more open about the fact that i`m an addict. though it was never a huge secret in the first place, i`m just more vocal about it now. i`ll damn near cut off a hand fer the sole purpose of goin to the ER to say, "nope, no pain killers, i`m an addict, i`ll be fine, i`ll just go find a meetin!" i love tellin folks that i`m clean. where i live, RECOVERIN addicts are few and far between.

the subject of "normal" comes up alot in my recovery. i hear folks sayin they hope to one day be "normal." and i don`t get it. what`s normal? it varies so much from place to place and person to person that it`s really irrelavent. but i also know that i, among all of my friends in recovery, place a label on folks who aren`t addicts.

the dreaded NORMIES.

it`s pretty silly, i know. but it`s nothin more than a name fer folks that don`t understand someone`s addictive nature. if there are any smokers readin this, i`m sure you have at least one member of yer family (been my experience to always be an aunt er grandmother) that constantly says, "why don`t you just quit? i don`t understand why you don`t just quit." they say that because, they don`t understand. simple as that. just as i don`t understand the mentality of someone who can pour a single glass of wine, take two drinks, then sit it down and forget that it ever existed (my sis, and i loather her fer it). but it`s the same with drug addicts. you always have at least one person in yer life that says that very same thing. "why don`t you just quit?" it`ll drive you insane. i`d always sat and wondered, "yea, why DON`T i just quit?" and even though i haven`t gotten high in almost 8 months, i still don`t consider myself having QUIT anything. i just haven`t in a while is all. it could happen at any moment. i could just decide i`m not gonna deal with life on life`s terms anymore, say screw it, and put a fresh set of holes in my arm. the only difference between then and now is i know i don`t HAVE to do that anymore. whereas before, it never seemed like a choice. i thought, "the world has drug addicts. this is what you are, and you will stay this way until you die." there wasn`t an alternative that i could see.

but yea yea, the "normies" thing. i s`pose alot of what folks think they know about addiction comes from television. the classic street junkie portrayed on some law and order type show that the actor recieves an award of some sort fer his/her "flawless" performance. but it`s all bullshit. junkies are everywhere. there is no specific type of folk that ends up strung on somethin. hell, there`s 90yo women at some of the n.a. meetins i go to that had been takin valium fer 30yrs, then up and had a heart attack one day, their doc says, "no more valium fer you," then they almost die from withdrawals. a heart attack didn`t kill em, but the lack of their benzodiazapenes damn near did em in. "socially acceptable addicts" is the term fer those folks. they could be as junked as they wanted to be, but as long as they had a script fer it, it was ok.

so where does one draw the line between a heroin addict and somebody`s maw maw out there hittin up 6 doctors a week just to keep enough xanax in the house to do her fer another month? there`s no difference betwixt the two. an addicts an addict.

i keep gettin off subject here, i think. hell i don`t know.

but there`s a stigma attatched to addicts that makes us out to be morally deficient in some way. it`s not a lack of morals, it`s a lack of understanding of one`s self. a lack of control that one feels they can only gain through substance. not a lack of compassion or love, in any sense.

on the part of the non-addict, there is almost always the same problem, over and over, a lack of empathy. the lack of the experience itself keeps anyone from ever truly understanding. that goes fer any situation in life, but not many folks look at addiction in the same light as they do say.....bungee jumping. folks can tell you how a bungee jump feels, the adrenaline, the wind, but you`ll never really know unless you`ve taken that leap fer yerself.

if you don`t know, you just don`t know, and if you don`t know, don`t throw bullshit unfounded opinions at someone who does. it`s better to be thought a fool, than to open yer mouth and remove all doubt.

"we find that we suffer from a disease, not a moral dilemma. we were critically ill, not hopelessly bad. our disease can only be arrested through abstinence." n.a. basic text p.15

smells like cornbread that's done too well

it would seem the women lately have been flockin to me in droves. they're on the verge of havin numbers that will soon make them considered a horde. had i stick, i would surely be beatin them off. (hmm...beatin off, that may help me calm my head enough to work through this.) but yea, anyways, i'm still tryin to stay on this abstinence kick, and estrogenical tyranny is makin it none too easy. i'd hate to think that i could fall so easily into the sack with someone as i used to. especially after i've come so far in the "figuring out of me." but it's gettin harder and....uh...more difficult, rather, to deal with not havin sex, when sex is, literally, havin it's offers thrown my way. damn, this never happened when i was usin and could've appreciated this sorta thing. well, appreciated it to the extent that the little voice keeps tellin me i should. i s'pose that would make it "appreciation" then. whatever. potato, potata.

i'm sick. (yes yes, i know. sick in the head. right right. that is my usual sick, yet this is stuffy runny phlegmy sick) and sickness fer a recoverin addict is the metaphorical pits. these days, i'm afraid to take anythin in pill form, sans the occassional ibuprofin and vitamins. no cold medicene. any kinda medication that'll make me feel somethin is outta the question. when i had been clean just a few months, i had taken a benadryl to help me get to sleep one night when my allergies were actin up. i ended up geekin out thinkin i was gonna wake up in the mornin feelin hung-over and would fall back into the whole, "let's kill this hangover reeeeaaaaal quick like" mental state. so, i ended up callin my sponsor at about 2 in the mornin only to have him convince me, thoroughly i might add, that i would be fine as long as i didn't think too much about it. and i was. fine that is. so fine in fact that the fact that i had taken it completely slipped my mind fer about a week. but i still have to watch out fer that stuff. which blows, cuz i end up havin to ride colds and stuff out til the bitter end without anything but my supreme and ultimate wit. heh.


more as i see fit.

low and be dang old hold

if it wasn't bad enough saturday night that i was jonesin like the dickens, i ended up listenin to a friend of mine's drunken phonecalls every hour on the hour. there's somethin of a lack of respect involved when you say yer supportive of someone in their sobriety and then call them and drill yer drunkeness into their head as loud as you possibly fuckin can over a cellphone. (i fuckin hate cellphones too by the way, but that is neither here nor there, so i'll continue with the here AND there.) at the time i was so fuggin angry with myself fer how i was handlin my own situation, that when she started pissin me off, i put every bit of that anger on her.

i was supposed to be there to watch her dogs fer the evening so one of em didn't have to be locked in a cage all night whilst she was out. it seems everytime i'm over there lately, my jonesin gets worse and worse. i was also gonna mow her lawn the next morning before takin off. which, at present, is my only income ($30). but it's really all i nead fer what i need to do these days. it's enough fer gas and a carton of smokes. so it sets me up and works well with the laziness that came installed in my metaphorical hard drive at birth. i remembered at 3am when i was gettin ready to crash that i hadn't brought my lawn mowin shoes with me and i thought, "well, i'm not gonna fuck up my good suede shoes to mow her lawn, i'll just have to come back in a day er two." what sucked about that is she had already payed me. but i wasn't fuckin up my shoes.

but i sat there all evenin knowin there was weed somewhere in the house. it was the closest to relapse i've come since bein clean. i knew if i looked fer a couple minutes, i could find somethin. at one point i even ended up goin to the fridge to see if there was any beer. there were only two. so i thought, "there's no way i'm relapsin fer two fuggin beers." that and it was after midnight and too late to get anymore. but the weed thing kept up all night. i wrote and wrote and wrote and fuckin WROTE! i haven't written that much to keep my mind off of somethin in my life. i kept thinkin i needed to call someone from the program. i knew that was what i needed to do. but i didn't. i knew they were gonna tell me to get the hell outta there. and i knew i should leave, but i didn't. i stayed, fer some jackass reason er another. i got through it though. i don't think i'm goin back over there. she is a friend of mine, but it's not worth my life.

what fucks me up the most about the whole situation is my shoes. it amazes me the things i put before my own well being. i was willin to sit there and suffer through a jones with the tools to trash myself inches away, yet i wasn't willin to grass stain a pair of $10 shoes from wal-mart.

Nk

oye! oye!
now i say young Tres.
now where're you aheadin'
with that red 'pon yer face?
we know you knew the hidin'.
we know you know her cries.
and now you know
that we know
what was alurkin 'neath her eyes.

her habits was off kilter
from the very first of days.
the way she danced the eggshell.
the way she stared of craze.

of hopes you had the highest,
and the highest you were be.
twas yer secrets you held tightest.
twas no honesty, you see?

from what we know young Tracy,
tis no thing you do best.
you may have fucked her eye up,
but she broke you in yer chest.