mmm, last night worked late, went to franks had a few beers, didnt go to daniel's party, ha! went home, got a phone call from another boy. other boy is grreat. same sense of humor. same. same. same. grrreat. sings to me. sings to me frank sinatra. and tells me hes not perfect. and im not. im not either, but he makes me feel like it. this all just began but its feel like its already something deep. something like love. i asked God for someone like Him, i really did. God blessed me. marissa called me at 3. rolling balls, and K. Horse tranqulizer? Hmm, something awfully

monday. work. tuesday. mass amounts of coke/e wed. recover. thurs. work/volleyball fri. shrooms. sat. recover/work whats it called when you do drugs becasue it's like, "a day at disney land" or, "being in love?" Some equivocal emotion to feeling. Really feeling. I was damned in the beginning. i'll be damned at the end. So a thought: People often say they do drugs to escape reality, which is to suggest that reality is in need of escaping. Always looming, reality never conforms to our ideals. Why is this? We find perfection, or excess stimulus in drugs. Without them we're all wallflowers. Look at you, going through your day, everyday. Striving for what? A picket fence and a smart car? 2 kids, and a loving husband? Going to the same job you hate, to a house that looks just like everyone elses. You have a good 75 years on this earth, and this is what your striving for? Living essentially the same life, experiencing essentially the same pain and love as everyone else. Why are we so dependent on conforming to this? Finding your place in this world a little too easily. Look around we're all in need of an escape. Boy from previous post went to Berekley. Miss Him. Luckily i put walls up very easily and possibly have a short attention span. Besides I have my other boys. He was just my favorite. i feel infinite. bukowski is a poet. best adjective for any poet literally is poet. The word implies beauty. Making hard things simple. Implies brilliance, and emotion. Doesn't imply perfection, but accepts disaster. i got asked to sketch/paint the walls for the animal shelter. I'm stoked. And i'm not going to draw dumb little paintings of dogs at parks with frisbees.i just wont. a temporary break a rocket lifting off the sun swooping you up in its wisdom, a cheap pink lawn chair really is a lady, and how did lucy get in the sky? why did John love her so? why can't he love me? an impulse unleashed an emotion unraveled a rush of stars, a childs dismay a sense of unity, the ebbing and flowing of the world connected excess stimulus rush of color wild and free in that moment, i swear we were infinite.

i remember why i hate feeling now. it's too inconsistant. emotion is unstable. always subjected to outside environments. never controlled, never maintained, always in excess. no one care's how you feel. no one care's that youre vulnerable. no one fucking care how this all affects you. im not addicted to drugs, im addicted to being numb. and everyone thinks i'm sick, i'm so sick. but the bad things you do. You do from the own purity of your inner being. No external force is inhibiting your judgement. It's just you. Atleast my sickness is tangible. Youre cruel because thats just who you are. Atleast I can say, "i was fucked when i did..." you can't youre doing this from an influence all your own. youre worse off then i am. its not okay. its never okay. its never going to be okay. im not okay. im drowing in my blood. im drowning in the blood of my Saviour. MARANATHA. my desperate pleas are all too sad and frightening to type out. i've got to get out of here.

fucked up fucked up fucked up. feeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeling goooooooood.

I hate the euphoria that comes with liking someone. My inner being is saying, "i'm in love, i'm in love." This worries me, but i'm not fooled. Now the more logical part of me is saying, "Just a hook up, just for fun." Me and Him.. We'd set the world on fire. It feels good to feel.

Eventful last couple of days, i did write two days ago but the server shut down, no point reiterating it all now. Yesterday, I didn't write forgive me I was near incapable of doing anything short of watching Sesame St. Have you ever just spent a night laying in the grass looking up at the stars? Granted it's better high but i'd reccomend it to anyone sober or not. This is, howvever an activity i've been doing since I was little. My dad was in the navy and we lived on the beach, on the nights before he'd leave for long deployments, he'd take me out and show me one constellation and told me that was our constellation and when i would find it in the night sky, he would be searching the vast sky for it too. The constellation was Cassiopeia. The name, the story, is all very beautiful. It's sincere, too much love is hard to contain though. And for some reason, it's never the shooting stars that catch my attention. It's the airplanes. Where is it going? Who's on it? Are they happy? Are they even okay? I sit and just imagine these beautiful lives taking place amongst the stars. And it's another plane I didn't take, another flight missed, another journey I can't call my own. Today should be good. psalm 17:8 Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings

time is of the essence. i didn't do any of the things i said i wouldn't do. and i'm still convincing myself of my sobriety. did blow. yesterday. head hurts still. bought valium, didn't take them. apparently my dealer is in the hospital upon taking some? Not sure it's worth the risk. today. worked. too long, too hard. showered. still didn't take the valium. went on a weed deal. mistook a families white pick up truck for my dealers truck. embarassing. funny, really. went to bible study. saw pastor at a party? corrupt. the book of revelation interpretations are flawed. pre-mid-post? good song: kanye west- addiction. burnt rubber. ran over a curb. peeled out. hit an rv? sober too. i should start wearing my glasses. im in love. it sucks. im euphoric. not even the kind of euphoria attributed to coke. im in love. and i hate it. i usually have a lot more walls up. i suppose because i know he wont make the effort to tear them down, they're as a result, just coming down. weird psychology. makes sense though. i assure you it's all very platonic. jealousy is murder to the soul. i can't sympathize but i see the way girls, the way guys look at me.. like there inner being is being destroyed, a pit of fury reveling deep. im not as smart, or pretty, or witty as anyone thinks. i don't think people believe me when i say i will hurt them, i will manipulate them, i will dissapoint them. cant sleep. wont sleep. im so hungry.. why cant i remember to eat? revel 3:1 “I know your works, that you have a name that you are alive, but you are dead."

=) =/ =( Possibly a reprieve is needed?..More so desired, only because I have this amazing tendency to run away from dealing with things. I definitely think me even typing this is a psychological break through. My attempt at sobriety has taken a sudden turn for the worst...to say the least and i can't help but having the most sinister smile. but this has got to die. this has got to stop. this has got to lie down with someone else on top. Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. And I assure you, i've had my fair share of poignant memories. but this has got to die. this has got to stop. atleast now I have an excuse, even a reason to propel myself deeper into this self imposed abyss of depression, that I SO enthusiastically extol. I feel beautiful. So few emotions are real, I question anyone who says there happy but OH how I wish I hadn't "opened" my mind to so many things, that I could walk the streets admist an oblivious, naive daze. You really do lose your innocence. You really do lose that thing, maybe you've lost sight of it you have it though, and i yearn for it everyday. That thing, that thing..whatever it is that makes a day beautiful, and the evening so serene. You have it. I really, I don't. Dazing in and out of streams of conciousness is probably the greatest thing, and the day, the day after is what i love best. and the fear of dehydration, and that potential over dose. And seeing someone on the verge of death. And there was a line somewhere, somewhere along the way. And people ask me when I crossed that line. I don't really know, but i do remember the realization that I had at some point crossed a line. A line seperating my conscious and my reality. A line seperating my reality from reality. And i don't really like the whole "line" concept, it's almost negate, how should a line exsist if your awarness of crossing that line doesn't occur way after the fact that you actually crossed. Maybe now, if there was like a literal point and literal line, and you could cross it and therefore almost take into consideration the very real choice you're about to make.. Haha yes. I realize the idiocracy of this. I'm starving. I tired of feeling hungry. Like something can't be filled..like desires. But what I would like the most, is to appreciate life again. I've heard so many times that it's precious. I'm beginning to take that into consideration. I'd like to say atleast my ambition far exceeded my talent..probably not though. Could you imagine me being happy, being ok? I'm such a great advocator for the wounded and tried alike, I would make a brilliant optimist, i really would. Or i'm just far too much in love with being broken. Sweetly broken. I have alot to do, alot to do today, and i have no intention on doing any of it =) so i tried to copy and paste the scripture for today from some website with pastel colors and little lambs, but everytime i tried to copy it i got a tiny popup asking "Do you know Jesus?" Well yes I do, assuming that's obvious because i'm trying to copy scripture from His word... i'm typing it myself. i'm awfully ambitious? haha. Set me as a seal upon your heart, As a seal upon your arm; For love is as strong as death, Jealousy as cruel as the grave; Its flames are flames of fire, A most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench love, Nor can the floods drown it. If a man would give for love All the wealth of his house, It would be utterly despised. -Songs of Solomon 8 Love is STRONGER then death. That's gives me enough hope to get through this day.

not sober. and i drak milk. --lactose intolerant. idiot..

Ten minutes until work. i'm running behind not yet dressed. but I have to get this out. but I can't. hallelujah hallelujah hallelujah