Swing and a Miss

Nothing more gratifying than spending an inordinant amount of time and effort on a project that will ultimately crumble through no one else’s fault but your own. It … And by it, I mean everything, is so much easier when there is a scapegoat within earshot. Pointing your finger at someone unsuspecting is all the more satisfying. I challenge you to do it, if you haven’t already. I’m willing to bet you’ve already tasted that bitter, low-hanging fruit, yeah? What am I even talking about? If I heard myself talking like that, I think I would feel obligated to beat the shit out of myself.

I fuckin fell off the horse. Or did I get back on the horse? Or is it a wagon? Do those terms only apply to AA? Is my ignorance showing?

I haven’t really even started treatment yet, so I guess none of that shit applies to my situation quite yet. Maybe if I publicly admit to my incompetence as a normal human being, I can shame myself into sobriety. That’s a legitimate method to living a normal, healthy lifestyle, right? I mean, it seems to be working out pretty well for Scientology- and we all know how prestigious and credible their dogma is. If some 19 year old kid can show me the path to enlightenment by having me put my hands on his magical thetan detector, and he throws in a convincing sales pitch to buy L. Ron Hub’s impressive library of choose your own adventure books; well I’d be a fool not to fork over all my earnings! That’s like one step from being a Jedi! Paying taxes? That’s for mere mortals. If you ask me, I think the word “cult” is thrown out there with a little too much prejudice. I think of them as a club that is perpetually engaged in a LARP session that never ends, but without any of the magic, or medieval weapons, or smiling… and you aren’t allowed to quit. Ever. If you break character there will be some helpful rehabilitation sessions to assist with maintaining the proper thetan levels. All hail Zenu.

Yeah so I guess my counter resets to zero now. FML.


Putting it Back Together

Jesus Christ, what a mess.

I’m on day four (?) of sobriety, and I forgot how miserable this is. Yeah, there are things that can distract me for a few minutes- sex, TV, video games, food; but it passes so quickly. Then I’m left with myself again. It is so much easier to get that needle in my vein and just push that magical substance up my brain and experience happiness in the blink of an eye. It’s so much easier than working for it. Judge me if you want, but if you’ve had a taste of it, then you know what I’m talking about. I think that I’m just like anyone else, I just want to be happy. Getting high makes me happy. The hardest part about sobriety is I will never forget what that feels like. I can never “untaste” that feeling. As long as I’m alive, it’s always going to be screaming at me, trying to pull me back towards it’s grip. I would do anything just to feel it one more time, but I can’t. The state says I can’t, my wife says I can’t, my family says I can’t, and without words, or even any willful sentiment, my daughter says I can’t. That’s the hardest one. I have let my daughter down for so long because I’ve been so selfish. I’ve been slowly committing suicide (so I’ve been told) with these needles, and putting myself closer to the grave just so I can experience happiness forbidden by logic. It doesn’t make sense to any rational person- why the fuck would you shove a disgusting needle in your arm? Are you trying to kill yourself? Don’t you want to live to see tomorrow?

Nobody understands unless you’ve done it, so if nothing else, just know that ignorance is bliss. I guess you could take that several different ways in this context. This is so hard, but I’m doing it for my daughter. My life has all but fallen apart, so I guess it’s time to stop fucking around and fix this mess I’ve created.

Back Against the Wall

I know all 2 of my followers have been just dying to know what’s been going down in my neck of the woods. Truthfully, things haven’t been going all that great for me. I can hear the world’s tiniest violin, stringing out the most woeful of tunes, amongst an ocean of woeful tunes in this shitstorm of hellfire we call life. Life is one big shit sandwich, and each one of us has to take a bite.

I had a recent encounter with those boys in blue who do nothing but act on the public’s behalf, protecting and serving society, putting the state’s interest humbly above their own. Now if I am breaking the law, that would mean I’m acting against the State’s interest in keeping an orderly and safe society, and I should be willing to pay the price for whatever misgiving I have inflicted against the public. Here’s what I don’t fucking get- what about victimless crimes? I say victimless, because I’m not even willing to call myself a victim in this case. That’s right, straight up victimLESS, motherfuckers, nobody here is being wronged or shortchanged. But because that would leave not nearly enough people incarcerated in our prison system, the state gets to decide whether you are a victim against your own actions. Is that justice? I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over all that money being dumped into this section of the economy.

Let’s be honest, that’s all it is is a rather large chunk of our economy which has been taken to a new extreme by a machine fueled and kept well-lubricated with money. That’s messed up in itself, but what I find insulting is how it is being masqueraded around as “justice”. Justice has become a little warped over the years, hasn’t it? It seems to benefit those who profit off the system, at the expense of society as a whole. If our system is a detriment to the public, while benefiting a select few, well then that’s not really justice is it?

I would love to get all kinds of specific with this one, but it’s not in my best interests to do so at this time. Maybe when this all blows over.

Stick ’em Up

I know I’m not the first person to notice, comment on, and even publicly decry the absolute absurdity of both the volume and nature of American holidays. Come on, people, freaking National Hot Dog Day? What exactly is being celebrated there? Is it supposed to represent America’s success in being the world’s boiling pot? Despite the fact that our government swept the indigenous population of these fair lands onto reservations like so many meat packing plant floor sweepings, the American Dream  is obtainable for every asshole, set of lips, and eyelids, so long as you pledge allegiance and recite your oath of fealty every day during the initial indoctrination phase of your childhood. I am not even sure what I’m really talking about any more, I haven’t slept well since I can’t remember when.

I mention this because you all know what money-siphoning, coercive, mandatory show of emotions, day of celebration is obnoxiously making its presence known by peering in through the front windows of our doorstep. That’s right, it’s the most bullshit holiday of all: Valentine’s Day! What better way to express your true love than to spend a month’s paycheck on some rare metal and some small chunks of compressed carbon that was procured by an African warlord, using slave labor from his most recent conquest. Really gives you a warm and fuzzy when you think about how the baubles we decorate our hands with have sometimes been used to fund military campaigns which have inflicted violence and misery, the likes of which most of us have never seen.

I’m done with this nonsense, happy freaking Valentines.


I Hate This Place

So it’s my birthday today. I really don’t have anything significant to post other than I truly understand what it’s like to be at the end of my rope. You always think you’ve reached the end, but it turns out there’s always just a little bit more you can give. I’m sure you can relate, right Internet? Like you think in the moment, how much more shit could possibly hit the fan? It turns out there’s always just a little bit more… shit, that is. The shit doesn’t always come, but it doesn’t hurt to anticipate the shit before it comes at you. Then, when the shit doesn’t come, it just makes life that much more tolerable. So the moral of the story is shit happens- sometimes it doesn’t though.

Confession v1.0

So now that I’ve whipped up a mysterious pseudonym that many people with even a cursory knowledge of how to operate a computer and the internet would be able to see right through, I feel comfortable enough to not show up in most major search engines. If I’m able to avoid being Googled by prospective clients and/or employers, my inhibitions are about to drop faster than the consciousness of Cosby’s date after getting one cocktail deep. That’s right, it’s about to get weird.

Thanks for sticking around after that first paragraph, I was afraid I’d lose some of you there. Since you’ve been gracious enough to stick around while I try string together some type of cohesive dialogue by clumsily spewing these words into the eternity of the web, I thought I’d share some personal information about myself, as well as my opinion on the matter, as it relates to society.

I’m an addict. Not just like hey I’m addicted to caffeine, or nail-biting, or sniffing my fingers after shaking someone’s hand- like, I’m addicted to substances which in certain official circles, they are legally frowned upon. What’s the worst thing you can think of? Yep. Ah-ah-ah… shhhh, yep. Just stop- yes. Get my drift? I’m not proud of it, if you were to confront me on it, I would flat out deny this conversation ever took place. Have I ever stolen or taken advantage of others to fuel my habit? I’d probably be bullshitting you if I said I never have, but I try to live by the golden rule, so I can say that I don’t live this lifestyle without a moral code guided by a compass that is pointing true 99% of the time. Has my health suffered because of my personal choices? Yes. Have I run into problems because of the poor choices I’ve made? You bet your sweet ass I have. I’ve got 99 problems, and a bitch is probably in there somewhere. I mean, 99 is a lot of problems to keep track of, if I were to say a bitch doesn’t make an appearance in there at least once, I’d be lying to myself and all of my fan out there.

My point is this- which I think the public at large is starting to become aware of- as it becomes a glaring problem for the United States: the drug policy and this antiquated war on drugs has been a complete failure, and caused more  problems than it was intended to fix in the first place. So check this out from the Bureau of Justice Statistics:

BJP Recidivism Link

Although this link is pretty dated- 2005 to be precise- it isn’t so old that one couldn’t reasonably surmise that these statistics could be similar today. Sorry, but that was the most recent report I could find on the BJS site with regards to drug use and recidivism. The gist of it is that eventually, somewhere in the neighborhood of 79% of drug offenders will get busted again. To use the BJS’s own words in a 2014 press release:



With statistics like that, one might call into question the intent of our war on drugs. Surely it couldn’t be to deter drug use? If so, it’s obviously not deterring anyone. What about to rehabilitate? Anyone who’s been through the system would find that question laughably asinine. So is the answer neither then? Are we punishing people for having a drug problem? Well that certainly seems to benefit private prisons, much to the detriment of society. Lock those junkies up, they don’t need to be running around doing junkie things! Well said, but consider the cost expended each year at taxpayers’ expense on housing these junkies. Shit, I am one, and I don’t want to pay for it. Couldn’t that money be spent more wisely on a realistic rehabilitation program?

I know, I’m not really saying anything new here, this has all been said before. I guess I’m saying what do we do about it?