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:

3 IN 4 FORMER PRISONERS IN 30 STATES ARRESTED WITHIN 5 YEARS OF RELEASE

http://www.bjs.gov/index.cfm?ty=pbdetail&iid=4987

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?

Light at the end of the Tunnel

As stated in a previous post, I’ll start posting my really dark secrets once I’ve configured a pseudonym. Yeah, I know that should consist of a few clicks and keyboard strokes on the profile edit page- but that is a lot steps for the Prince of Procrastination to endure. For now, I’ll do what I’m mediocre at, and that is being vague. I learned it from watching my wife, she’s a professional vaguery dispenser. You know what I’m talking about? Like the kind of vague that’s so vague, it’s creeps on the thin border of being passive-agressive. Now she’s a fucking wizard when it comes to the art of passive aggressive techniques. I think I’m rambling at this point, so let’s see if we can pull this ship around, and put her back on track.

So I have a job interview today, which I am sure is something I’m overqualified for, thus this interview should be cake walk. It is for a lead service desk analyst position. Which, is most definitely the direction I don’t want to go in for my career, but I’m drowning in bills so I’ll take what I can get.

*** 24 hours later ***

So I did pretty well on the interview- at least for interview numero uno. There ended up being two interviews because they had me as applying for the level one service desk position. I know you are probably literally at the edge of your seat, nearly at the brink of climax with all these exciting details, but hang tight- just like a long-winded fortune cookie, this blurb has some takeaways which might just make a difference in someone’s life. I know personally that there are forks in the road which the outcomes lead to drastically different circumstances. Although, unlike a choose your own adventure book, you can’t hold your thumb on the choice page while you check ahead to see if on page 53 you perish or prosper. But I digress…

Since this blog is a knowledge dump(ish), I should probably start dumping some kind of relevant life experience out there, lest this page drift furthder into the tides of obscurity. So I can honestly detach myself from what little ego I have left and give myself a fair assessment of how I did during the interview(s). This is partially because I asked point blank, how did I do during this interview? Honestly I don’t think I phrased it quite like that, but one of the first things I said when asked if I had any questions was something along those lines. Often the people that conduct these interviews are doing so because it’s a part of their routine in their organization. If nothing else, if I’ve bombed an interview- yeah, shocking but true- I take that queue to pick their brains on the interview process. Who better to get tips on what you should and shouldn’t do than the people who drive the fucking process, am I right, people!? For fuck’s sake, don’t tell them you don’t have any questions when you are asked what are your questions! There’s a reason they say that- they want to be sure you’re paying attention, and have a genuine interest in the organization, and aren’t being coerced into this interview to avoid getting kicked out of your parents’ basement, a la Step Brothers.

***

Time to abruptly end this post, it’s now over two days since that interview, and if more relevant topics emerge from the nether regions of my mind, I’ll be sure to regurgitate it onto this page.

Redo

So yeah, my last post was perhaps a bit on the dark side, and that just seems like a lazy way to start a blog. I mean, who hasn’t had the occassional impulse to swerve into oncoming traffic during rush hour? That doesn’t mean everyone needs to hop on their computer and express their “feelings”- I’m pretty sure they have pills for that. I’m willing to suppress my crippling depression long enough to turn this ship around, so buckle down, folks, the waves are looking a little choppy!

The dilemna I find myself in now is my lack of employment. It wasn’t until I stopped working that I realized how much of my identity is tied to my job. Which is really stupid, since I was essentially working my ass off for a below industry standard salary only to line the pockets of the company executives and their board of fucking villians. The moment a company gets big enough to have stocks, shareholders, and a board of directors, that is the kiss of death for the worker drones. You’re no longer a person when that happens; you’re a resource. A commodity- even worse yet a liability. If you step out of alignment, you’d better fucking get with the program, because this paycheck? This paycheck right here? This is gonna go to the next person who can do your job better and cheaper than you, so stick your nose up the board’s ass and be greatful for breathing their shit-air, because you have a mortgage, and kids, and a wife with expensive tastes. Hooray for corporate slavery!

So yeah, I’ve been dealing with not having a job through the holidays, and therefore have been a bit salty as of late. I see the horizon though, and let me tell you, it’s looking like it’s gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day. (it’s not)

There we go, that was a much more constructive string of thoughts than my last post.