Category: Uncategorized

The other thing: I am thinking of moving. I like my apartment accept for three things: (1) It is small (2) I share a bathroom (3) I share a bathroom with an insane german man.

I want more space, er, possibilities to say, watch a movie on a couch, make art, make a mess, play bass really loud. To be creatively expressive.

Sharing a bathroom is fucking disgusting. It’s a gross bathroom to begin with, combined with thinking about the gross dude’s bathroom activities and the remnants of such that I have to clean up, or more often than not, choose not to clean up.

He is insane. He is disgusting. He yells, but not anymore cause I got the landlord to tell him to stop being such a twat or else he would have to go to the mental health board. for real. power is being more sane, or atleast able to control when I yell obscenities, or atleast being able to sick the authorities on the insane.

Pete’s place is a viable option. His roomies are all splitting, so i figure he’ll be looking for new ones. I like his place. It’s comfy, for the most part. He has a studio, which is the nice thing. I can set up my drums and play them whenever. I can record and make music. I will have ceiling height and space to make art. I will be living in Gastown again, which is convenient, but not homey – not homey like 7th and Carolina is with it’s view and trees and park and nice people out walking their nice dogs in their nice coats on a nice sunday.

Gonna think a little more about it. Wish i didn’t have to, but i do.

Oh the other thing… I had this thought yesterday. I was at Devitt’s house, and we were fucking around on his computer and my the topic of my sickness came up, and i mentioned how I’ve been badly sick three times since the beginning of december, which i thought was a lot for me. I was thinking outloud saying, “what the fuck is up with my immune system? it’s shitting the bed.” and then I said jokingly, “maybe I have the HIV” and then I got thinking…. What if i did have the HIV. then I asked myself, if I knew my time on this earth was super limited like that, what would I be doing differently? what came to mind first was, I would take all my savings and move to somewhere hot. my second thought was, I would not be moping around waiting for life to happen. I would not be living in a one bedroom apartment. Since that thought about my life being limited my whole perception has sort of reflected that dire mode… A part of me that would have held back and go cautiously died. A part of me that presses urgency and importance grew stronger. Life is short. I’ve almost been sober a year, and it’s gone by so fast. Before I know it my twenties will be gone and I’ll be thirty. I feel an urgency to get living and get things done. I think maybe this is a trend for me, a feeling of urgency preceded by a period of dark depression, the urgency resurrecting me from my sedated depression to go out and forge new directions. Or maybe not. I’ll check back later.

Going to go try to eat breakfast at Reno’s. My throat still really hurts. Maybe a 5 out of the 10 that it was. So it’s gotten better, but it’s not better. Anyway. Gonna try to slam it with a whole bunch of solid food. Ha. Stupid fucking throat. trying to starve this human. I don’t think so. Biatch throat. I fucking kill you.

Things progressed from my last post. My throat became completely covered in those white puss ulcers and when they come off they bleed. So my throat became a pus-covered, bleeding pile of shit. I was prescribed a bunch of shit, none of which worked, except the Empracets. The empracets were good. I kept a very routined injestion habit of them for a few days. Two caps every 4 hours. For about 5 days. Sometimes the pain was so great even after leaving the second hour. then i would take a nap so i would not have to feel the pain. I’d wake up at the four hour mark and slam another two caps and feel okay enough to sip some green tea, all the while my mom nagging me that i need to eat something. When your throat has open bleeding sores and you have to struggle through a rigorous pill-taking regiment to even sip water, it is pretty unfathomable to think of trying to eat anything. Nevertheless, i managed to eat something like a bowl of apple sauce and a bowl of yoghurt everyday for the past week. That’s basicaly all i’ve eaten. Yesterday I experimented eating solid food for the first time in 9 days. it was some chicken and some baked potato. I seemed to be able to choke it down if i chewed it really well and chased every bite with green tea. Green tea is really my saviour in all this. Seems to be the only thing aside from sleep and empracets that gives me any relief.

Speaking of empracets – I’m off them now. I took my last one Wednesday night. I stopped taking them on my own behalf. My mom was freaking out about them since I got them prescribed. At first she said, “If they prescribe you codeine, I don’t think you should take them.” To which I thought, “You have no idea how much fucking misery I am in right now.” She kept bringing it up everyday since monday, saying, “You should get off those pain pills, they scare me. They’re very addictive, you know.” I knew it was scaring her and it kind of annoyed me that it scared her. I was never in to those kinds of downers. Not to say that i couldn’t get in to them. I probably would have gladly abused them previously in my life. I probably would have at one point latched on to them, given a solid supply and an environment conducive to taking them. So why didn’t I latch on to them? I had a bottle of 40 and then another bottle of 30. I only took maybe 8 of the second bottle, and the rest are still at my parent’s house. Surely I could have devised a scheme to sneak a few away. Surely I could have manipulated the doctors in to giving me a scrip that only I knew about and then have it filled in secrecy and pop away. I could have. But I didn’t want to. I guess I just saw these pills as a doctor’s order, and to not abuse it. I saw the danger for what it was, a warning of what could happen if i do not heed the warning. Also, the codeine was seriously killing my libido and i really want to have sex with my girlfriend.

Jeff, liking what you’re writing lately. You have a beautiful mind.

I have many fillings. I also have that horrible bacterial infection known as strep throat back there. This is so fucking painful. Fever clocked at 39.5 today.

After a couple days of really bothersome pain, I went to the doctor this morning. He told me I have strep throat. It really hurts to swallow. Being unable to swallow in turn makes it difficult to speak. I have a fever of 39.3. I really don’t feel very stoked on life right now. Infact, heroin sounds like a really nice way to exist right now, except for the obvious shit storm of side effects essentially voiding that option.

I took my stitches out. They were really bothering me so I figured it was time for them to go. There’s still a really gnarly scar which may take some time to completely close up. In other flesh-wound news, I discovered an abscess on a finger on my right hand this morning when i woke up. I suppose the skin had healed over a sliver which turned in to an infection sub-dermally which resulted in the abscess. I was pretty ashamed of it when I discovered it because a large part of me feels that abscesses are preventable and are the sort of thing that Main-Hastings junkies get, not me. Good thing my mom is a nurse, that has really paid off over the years, she always knows what to do to take care of anything.

I have been sick for the past few days. Intense fever, really swollen glands, sore throat and a really intense headache. My body is really sore too, but I think that’s from staying in bed for 36 hours straight. My fever is probably the most concerning. I am sweating constantly, soaking through my clothes regularly and if i’m not bundled up in clothes I am shivering because I am so cold, even though I’m still sweating. My mom is more concerned that I am. She pointed out that this is the third time I have been sick with a high fever since the beginning of december. I don’t know what that means exactly, other that that my immune system is seriously shittin the bed the last two months.

My one definite spiritual experience happened when I had a high fever. The conditions were similar to this. I was 10 years old, hit with a high fever and was bed-ridden for days. My mom had tucked me in her bed so she could look after me and I remember the comfort of her King-size bed and melting away in to the gigantic pillows. My temperature was high, and I was not eating. I was in and out of sleep for days and would only get up to pee. Somewhere between being awake and being asleep I hallucinated a vision that I remember clearly to this day. This vision was so powerful that I would call it a spiritual experience, because it was so powerful not just visually but emotionally as well. In the darkness of this vision I saw a Sphere. The Sphere’s size was indetermined because there was nothing to compare it to. It was just a Sphere, and all around it blackness, like the blackness of space, a vaccuum containing nothing. The Sphere in the center of this void was in fact the exact opposite of the vaccuum of space, it was everything. Nothing was not the Sphere and everything was a part of it. Its mass was infinite, but its size obscure as previously mentioned. The mass of the Sphere was so great and I felt so connected to the mass of the Sphere, as though it were directly affecting me, like a weight upon me, crushing everything in me, or atleast with the capacity to do so effortlessly. The Sphere was spinning at a tremendous rate. It rotated with the precision of an electron as it orbits around its neutron. Radiating off the surface of the Sphere was a very hot heat. A heat as intense as the sun. The mass, the rotation and the heat. I had the feeling that anything that touched the Sphere would be destroyed, completely anhialated instantly. The surface of the Sphere was metallic. That said, The Sphere was not a mechanical object, but i do believe it was an intelligent being.I need to exentuate that the vision I had of the sphere was just as emotional as it was visual, so that I could have seen nothing of the Sphere and still known its presence. I felt a great deal of fear, Holy trembling fear. The sweat dripping from my forehead and neck felt as a direct result of the Sphere altering me. I could hear screaming, but screams that were so suddenly silenced by the magnitude of the Sphere that they were never wearisome. I simply understood that the Sphere was to end the world. I’ve analyzed this dream/vision/hallucination quite a bit since I had it. It could have been a vision of what dying feels like, or maybe what it feels like to be dead. Or maybe I witnessed the end of the world, when we are all so efficiently wiped from existence. I have found another person who has shared my vision. It happened to him in an eerily identical situation. He was young, about 8 or 9. He was experiencing a high-fever and was bed-ridden. He described to me seeing a sphere, which he has named The Egg. WE described back and forth to each other the feelings we felt during that vision and the coincidence of similarity in our experience is truly remarkable. But not a lot can be done about it really. As profound as an experience it was to me at that time and still is today, what can i really do about it now? While I can remember clearly the way I felt during that experience it is hard to really give that experience much weight today. What was the Sphere trying to tell me? I don’t know.

I just spent about an hour writing a really great post. And then in a fury of writing hit some key combo that closed the window and lost the whole fucking thing. Furious. I feel robbed of that moment. Fucking computers.

Just reading my post from yesterday. My english has gotten to be atrocious. Bad grammar. Bad sentence structure. Spelling mistakes. This bothers me greatly.

Things are good. When I think about it, I couldn’t ask for more out of life right now. Quitting smoking was so empowering for me, it really made it clear to me that I can make profound changes in my life and that I can choose to live the life I want.

I really don’t have much to say today.

Last night I told Lorea that I can’t do this “casual dating” thing anymore – that it just really wasn’t working for me. I thought that’s what i wanted. I thought being able to sleep with whoever I want whenever I want was freedom, but it turned out that what makes me feel free is knowing that I am just with one person, that just one person wants to be with me. That I can make the decision to choose just one girl to sleep with and to be romantically intimate with is a comforting thing. I feel like I can relax now knowing that there is some degree of dependability in that, however unpredictable it may be.

Yeah, I’m scared of it. I’m scared of committed relationships. What scares me is the idea of my world closing in around me to only include that one person, so much so that I suffocate. What scares me is that she might sleep with another guy. What scares me is that there might be lies and deceit. What scares me is that I might hurt her.

My fears are valid. Based on my past experiencesin romantic relationships, fears around the issue are to be expected as they are in any situation with the potential to hurt. but i think the hoensty between Lorea and I is such that this can really be a great experience to figure out what a healthy relationship might be like for me. She doesn’t freak out when I let her know my fears. She is relatively stable and keeps her head when I am wavering all over the place. I appreciate this in her. I am able to recognize my fears for what they are and know that I need not fear anything cause there’s nothing I have not yet conquered in my life. How empowering is that? If we’re still alive, we’re on top our game.

Thinking of doing service once a week at a soup kitchen or some similar outlet to give back to my community selflessly.

feels like I am choking.
like my airway is collapsing and my lungs are getting tight.
mouth is dry and my eyes hurt.
i feel like puking
and i am going to throw my cell phone across the room when i hang up.
my joints stiffen up.
my stomach turns and adrenalin shoots in to my bloodstream.
it was all just a thought.
i thought it would be okay.
i didn’t think i’d feel like this.
i don’t want to don’t need to think like this.
physical symptoms making my thoughts real.

you gotta censor what you write when you know who’s reading it.