Category: Uncategorized

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.

My counsellor tells me I need to not think so much about my “problems” and finding “solutions” to them. It’s fine for me to be intellectual, she says, but I just need to curb the amount that I think obsessively about my perceived struggles.

My counsellor also tells me I need to spend some time on pampering myself. I feel like my whole existence is that.

I went to the Vancouver Art Gallery today. Saw the Picasso exhibit. I had a bunch of thoughts. But nothing i want to write about. I know I am going to be famous eventually, i guess that’s all.

Been wanting to smoke bad lately.

Been running everyday, still. It’s a habit now.

My PowerBook is a fucking piece of shit. I hate it’s treachorous guts, the fucking defunct, overpriced bitch ass computer.

I’m stressed. I am going for a run. Running feels like mild opiates by about the ten minute mark.

Feel the need to post just a reminder that I am selfish and self-centered to the extreme. So much so that I don’t even see it and am the last to know about it. I think that I am so great and doing so well then I realise that I have been thinking about just myself for the last week straight even when I think I am thinking about others it’s always about me. My sister let me know about this tonight, how I never give a fuck about her or her struggles. And I feel awful that it litteraly came down to her jumping up and down yelling at me to break through to let me know that she is struggling in a big way.

I also had a recognition of a defect of character, being that it is and has harmed people in my life for a long long time. This defect is that I come across as not caring, as being disinterested when really I lack the ability to show my compassion and empathy that I feel. I am a very sensitive person and I feel great emotion for other people’s struggles. I really lack the skills to show this and to make this evident. My operation in my head in response to emotions, be them my own or someone elses is to disect the problem and rationalize solutions and responses. When someone tells me their cat died I feel their sadness but I really struggle and panic for the words to say to express any kind of sympathy with how they might be feeling. All I feel capable of is acknoledging their emotion, “that sucks, you must feel sad” and to then rationalize solutions “do you want another cat?” , “are you lonely? find a solution to your loneliness” maybe you didn’;t need a cat afterall. it’s for the best. it was meant to be. it’s all part of a plan. It drives me nuts cause i feel i can never connect with people emotionally and if i try i feel like a fraud.

I deal with my own emotions in the same way, except i love rationalizing how i feel and finding solutions to the problem. my whole life i have felt the impulse to respond to emotions rationally. if the emotion was good i would analyze the pleasure-giving situation and aim to replicate it and continue it. if the emotion felt uncomfortable i would analyze the pain-giving situation and alter my actions and reactions to cease and evoid the emotion in the future.

control control control.

i don’t want to hurt my sister anymore.

i want her to know that i love her and i want to feel comfortable enough with her to let her know that i love her. to let her know that i care about her even if i don’t understand everything she goes through.

she told me i have boyish reactions.

there was just a gun shot outside my window. i swear it was a gun.