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I wonder how long it would take me to write a book like this. Just a page everyday. This actually seems managable. Read “Life After God” by Douglas Coupland

I have this fear. It’s the fear that I will one day through some terrible accident wind up retarded. Severely handicapped. Unable to interact with human beings on any spectrum of normality. A total freakshow. Jogging pants tucked in to my socks. Red windbreaker. Money belt. A drooling, contorted 21 year old baby that everyone feels sorry for but hates to be around.
The worst part is the thought that in this state, my brain would be so damaged, so out of touch, that I wouldn’t even know that my existence is different or compromised. I would be completely ignorant to my miserable and inconsequential life and infact may even appear happy about my situation.
No. The worst part of this thought is that maybe somewhere, deep inside the recesses of my mind there is an inconsistency that exists but is silent. This shred, a remnant of my former self still intact, like the leg of a crushed roach still kicking. A nervous system reflex. This last piece of my sanity, crippled and cemented in a brick of a brain I am screaming. In here it is a prison, the only escape from which is death.

Hey. I was gonna send you a text message. I was gonna tell you I love you. I was gonna say “have a nice day”. But then I just erased it and listened to Chopin. I wouldn’t want to overstate that I think you are really great. See, I don’t want to influence the situation. I don’t want to look back on this moment a two weeks from now and remember the downfall of our relationship as my responsibility, as a result of me saying anything that might change how things are. How pathetic. To deprive myself of my own will because of a fear. It’s just that, sometimes I think I can actually control the situation. That I think I know whats best for me. That I should even think at all. I shouldn’t. I don’t want to. I wish I couldn’t.

They tell me I’m going crazy. I think I’m going crazy. My thoughts, these thoughts don’t feel like mine. I feel like I’m in transition, like i’m detatched from myself.

I just want to sleep all day. The past while has been a mess. I wake up hungry at 1pm. I eat immediately and drink coffee. After this all I want to do is go back to bed. When I don’t, I become increasingly more depressed. If I do, I wake up late in the evening still depressed. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’m lost at sea. Treading water in a fridgid pool of sharks. In a retirement home, lethargic and senile, my only comfort faded memories and the characters that I dream exist in the people around me.

I entered a competition today. It was a video competition set up by my ex-school, BCIT. If and when I win, I will win a Panasonic DV camera. I’m pretty excited. My chances are good of winning.

I am so fucking irritable, restless and discontent right now. God hates me. Aghhh… so, i figure my current state is a result of my shitty connection with my higher power. Also contributing to my recent frequent thoughts about getting loaded. I’m glad I haven’t. Really fucking glad. I don’t want that. But the part of me that does inside me is growing. Please, god I need to finish my fucking 4.

Why do I feel such anxiety about her. Guilt, anxiety, restlessness. fuck. Wish i could deal.

Gimme everything you have to give. Nothing you can give me will ever be enough to satisfy the craving that god left me. You are an ant. I don’t care about you. But I’ll tell you I do just long enough for you to believe me and fall in to my intricate trap. My prey is self-gratification. Your attention is all I need. What I need to know I’m still alive. I’m gonna leave you alone. Alone like they left me. Cause Alone is all we are. And I will make you feel it like I’ve felt it before and feel it now.

i just can’t deal with you. I want you so bad, and I know you have this thing, the same thing I have, where you need approval and validation from the opposite sex. Attention seeking. I end up feeling like total shit. I feel like total shit. I can’t deal. I just wanted to die all day. I just don’t know what to do. I feel like everyone is lying. Like everyone is just manipulating and conning…. not cause they are vindictive and honestly want to hurt me or anyone else, but just because they’re all sick. And I’m sick, i know that. But i can’t deal with the fact that I can’t trust anyone. In this situation, I can’t trust the way I feel about you and the way you want me to feel about you. I don’t know what this all means. I just want to tell you and everyone else who feigns caring about me to fuck off.

You play headgames with me. I wish i could think of anything to say… some solution other than telling you I can’t be around you anymore. Telling someone i’ve come to regard as a good friend that I can’t hang out with them anymore is hard and makes me feel so lonely. But so is the realization that your “goodfriend” is fake and doesn’t actually give a fuck.
I feel so lonely. Being around you makes me feel desperate and lonely. It feels like your interaction with me is purely selfish, because it makes you feel good when i return your attention. But when it doesn’t fit your needs, it stops, and i’m left alone.

And then you say that you’re the wrong person to be talking to about all this.

I have the constant smell of curry in my nose. Almost two weeks and I haven’t smoked. Daily my nose evacuates chunks and shreds of unidentifiable yellow and bloody extrement.I figure there is a war going on in my sinuses and the carnage is migrating south out my nose. Inside, all i can feel is scar tissue from a career of snorting glass shards. Disgusting.

I’m reading Permanent Midnight by Jerry Stahl. I’m fond of books written by drug addicts. This particular one is an autobiography of the writer’s experience as a junkie television writer in Hollywood. Pretty cool.

In a position where I can’t just commit to a girl who I love and who loves me back. We would be good together. What is holding me back? The trap that are committed relationships. I wouldn’t be able to fuck whoever I want whenever I want. I wouldn’t be able to feel I could sleep with whoever I want whenever it proves convenient. I think I’m sick. I mean, I know I’m sick. I just don’t know what the fucking cure is yet for my need to be validated by every woman in my life. God help me.

I feel like I’ve manipulated everyone… I have guilt when other people are upset as a result of my actions. I’ve tried to be honest…. I don’t know how well mere honesty is working for me.

I don’t know what I want.
I want to fuck everyone.
I want to be everywhere.
I want all the love.
I can’t bear what my mind tells me I am.
When I close my eyes and have a brief moment of serenity, I see you.
Does that mean I’m supposed to stay close to you?
I’ve lead myself astray before.
We seem like we’re meant to be together.
And then I push you away.
I fuck it up.
And we both avoid each other.
Till one of us breaks the silence.
Dialogue, and then everythings okay for a while.
And we again seem like we’re meant to be together.
Until I push you away.

You are so perfect for me.
You are exactly what I need.
You could teach me so much.
We would look so good together,
people have told me so.
A part of me wants to choose
you to be my one and only cause
You are so perfect for me.
and then you told me that you really like me.
That I am perfect for you.
We both naturally want to withdrawl.
You scare the shit out of me.
I don’t want to be so close.
But i do.

When you’re lost in the woods
It’s best to stay put and wait for help.

This week has been a fucking acid trip.
I stopped smoking last wednesday. When I wake up in the morning I will have a week off smoking… almost… aside from a cigar and two smokes, all of which were the direct result of the fucking assload of stress that three parties in one week naturally incur upon a human being. Check out the rationalization. Fuck yeah.

The first few days felt like an acid trip. I seriously was delerious and fucked up. Intense mood swings and abnormal reactions to things… I wanted to kill. I’ve dreamt of guns every night since I quit. Loud loud Nine Inch Nails assist with the withdrawal.

took two month chip last night. two months off fucking dope. yay. Saw briony the other day on Main Street. It was weird to see her. I didn’t even recognize her and it’s only been 6 weeks. I was happy she was alive. I wish she was well. I wish she could believe me. I wish she could believe these aren’t headgames. Just read my post “First time in 5 weeks” that I posted exactly a week before this occurance. Funny how a week later I actually ran in to you. I imagined what you went off to do after we ran in to each other. I wonder now if you imagined what it was I went off to do.

I do my step 5 this friday. I go to Idaho this weekend. I am madly trying to finish my step 4 before friday. I am relieved that my flatmate/wife told me not to worry about the cleanup from the party, that i should just worry about my step 4. What changed? I am curious as to what in him changed. I would have figured he would struggle to force me to clean the place, me all the while struggling the more to resist control. It was a relief to just be allowed the space to exercise free will.

I wonder if those cops actually revoked my BC Liquor Licencee. Hmm. I think that Irish cop was full of shit. 200 people in the alley. 400 people inside on a liquor license for 180. serving after 2am. noise complaints from the hotel up on Pender. And a grudge.