Well, R.I.P jeep. You will be missed dearly. We had a little accident the other day on I-5 headed north through Canyonville Oregon. Apparently I’m retarded and so I decided to see if I could die, rolling my poor little jeep 5 times at 90 mph. With no seatbelt. Still can’t die. Although apparently I’m not quite as spry as I once was cause I kinda broke myself. I have a broken nose and a broken orbital bone. Broken ribs. My jaw is dislocated or it was. I feel like shit, everything hurts. I didn’t break my legs but I fucked them up pretty good. I also fucked up my clavicle. The cops showed up and surprise, surprise I have a warrant out of Jackson county for that dumb ass pocket knife bullshit. The DA finally decided to file and never even tried to contact me, which I knew was gonna happen so it wasn’t a surprise to me, it was just another blow. So I rolled my jeep and then they arrested me and took me to jail. They did be pretty cool and gather up my drugs, putting them in my backpack and then offering me the choice of taking them to jail, where they will be destroyed, or leave them in my truck and retrieve them from the tow company once I get released. I left it in the truck. In jail the boss pig comes up and asks me if I want to go home. Of course I do, dumb motherfucker. I told him yeah, he asked me if I would go to court, I told him yes. They kicked me loose. So I’m adrift in Roseburg Oregon. No car, no drugs, no coat, shit I didn’t even have any shoes, I was wearing shower shoes. I did luckily have my phone, although I didn’t have a charger. So I’ve been holed up, stranded in Roseburg Oregon at a low rent Howard Johnson’s ran by some asshole kid who could give two fucks about his job or my life. I managed to get the homie to come down from Portland yesterday and we stayed in Canyonville last night. The plan was to go to the tow company in the morning and get some of my shit but that plan was fucked as soon as I called the tow company and she told me that I was gonna need to give her the title to my truck plus $250 if I wanted anything out of my truck at all. She said by law all she needs to release to me is medication. Otherwise fuck me. Are you kidding me with this shit? It was a single car accident, no other vehicles involved, and the cops didn’t charge me with anything. They arrested me for the warrant and that was that. So these motherfuckers need to fuck off with all that. I’m gonna go get the title and they can have that, the fuck do I need with that shit now. And that’s all I’m giving them. And I will leave with my shit, because number one, it’s my shit, there is no hold on it by the cops nor anyone else. And number 2, cause it’s the right fucking thing to do. How the fuck you gonna try and gouge me like that after I just almost died and definitely lost my truck? Lame as fuck.
My homeboy told me that my plants will never reach their full potential because I have them potted and not planted in the earth. He’s not a hippie and he’s not some tree hugger or some naturalistic weirdo. Dudes a straight criminal, pretty gangster type motherfucker. I mean the dude taught me how to pick a lock and I probably learned more about the ins and outs of stealing a car. But he also knew about growing weed so I’m gonna take his advice, at least with this girl and I’m gonna put her in the ground. This is the pure Kush stain that I got last that I said was probably gonna die. I was wrong and she appears to be doing nicely but she’s still little and I’ve only got about a month and a have maybe less until the sun is going to be flowering my plants so I need them to get as much mass as I can get out of them. I’m hoping that planting this girl, combined with her already proven will to survive, will be just what she needs. And it tests the homies theory. It makes sense to me, being planted and rooted to the earth gives you a certain kind of connection, especially to all things natural. I sometimes like to take off my shoes and socks when I’m tripping acid cause I feel it gives me a different kind of trip, a more connected one. So I feel like there is magic here. And magic basically means strength so it should be good, possibly the best course of action but it won’t be bad regardless. I’m thinking about doing the same to her sister, who I got on the same day. She’s still smallish as well and I think she could benefit as well but I need more soil so she’s gonna wait. Gives he the option of changing my mind, at least until I can afford the dirt.
If the way that we fix the future is through our youth then I got the feeling that we are fucked. The youth of our nation are a bunch of soft ass, entitled, disrespectful, little fucks. So unsure of themselves that they don’t even know which gender to identify with, inventing new genders just for the fuck of it. Confused little fucks don’t even have a clue. And we just feed into that shit, allowing them to get more outlandish and crazy with their list of demands. It’s cause you can’t hit your kids anymore. My dad was a prick. He wouldn’t hesitate to tee off on me, knocking out teeth numerous times throughout my childhood. While at times it was absolutely abuse, it was at all times a lesson. A life lesson even. And a lesson that these kids now days aren’t getting at all. I believe this to be a disservice, to everybody involved. To the parents of these soiled little shits, who feel cornered into parenting due to fear that the man will come in and take away your kids. To the kids themselves who grow up believing themselves to be somehow special and above certain things in life, and get a cold ass reckoning when they discover a reality much different from the one they’ve been living. To the society that has to pick up the bill for generations of bad parenting. I’m sure it’s not that easy. I’m sure there’s a plethora of problems that have led us to this point. But I don’t see this problem doing anything but getting worse. I’m just retardedly pointing out the obvious here though. I don’t know how you would fix it. I am a great father, but I’m probably a pretty shitty parent. I’m definitely not a role model.
I suck at being sick. I’m such a fucking baby. I’m super irritable, quick to snap and even more of a dick then I usually am, which if you know me, you understand that that’s quite the dick. I feel like shit. I feel like I’m going to die. All of my bones ache, the joints all emitting a continuous pain. I’m all congested, so my headache is one of those congestion headaches, like in my temples and behind my eyes. I just want my mom. I just want to post up on the couch, in front of the TV, under a big blanket with a table tray next to me, full of all the things I need to make me feel better. But that’s not happening, so instead, I’m up in my uncomfortable, to hot yet to cold, bedroom, moaning and crying to myself about how I feel so bad. Giant vagina. It’s not even that bad. I mean it’s bad, I’m definitely sick, but it’s been worse and it will be worse again. I just suck at being sick. Rest and hydration. I suck at both of those things as well. I just want my mommy.
I’ve been wicked depressed lately. I can’t seem to pull myself out of it, instead sinking deeper and deeper. I’m not even sure why I’m depressed. I mean it’s partly got to do with my kids, or the lack of my kids more realistically. But I deal with that every single day so I feel like there’s something else that’s pushing me deeper. I wish I could get a mulligan on this one because it’s all fucked up. I don’t know how to love myself, in fact I almost kinda hate myself. I’m overly critical of myself and of the mistakes I make, beating myself up relentlessly over making the wrong choice, of thinking the wrong thing. I suck at communication and boundaries, allowing people to walk all over me, inviting them to do so. I can’t say no to people, regardless of how I feel about things, and so I am constantly feeling trapped or stuck in a situation because of this. I have no idea how to express my needs to people. I struggle explaining how I feel and so I bottle everything up and toss it under the rug, or in the closet, hiding from it, avoiding it. I’m clueless when it comes to self-care. How am I supposed to care for myself when I don’t even like myself? I’m a hot mess, a straight up contradiction. I’m confident to the point of cockiness yet super insecure. Highly intelligent, yet appearing to be quite dumb at times due to my overwhelming emotions and my lacking an idea on how to deal with said emotions. But you’ll never get anywhere if you don’t start somewhere so it really is about baby steps. I’m gonna look at every step I take forward in my pursuit of happiness a graduation of sorts. Definitely it is entitled a celebration. And so it’s party’s from here on out. My homeboy said I need to kill the negatives and fix my energy and I couldn’t agree more. My vibration is negative as fuck. My energy is corrupt. I’m humming from a low ass vibration which brings low ass things into my life. Like attracts like. I just need to find something to care about. A candle in a windowsill. A light at the end of the darkness. Just one thing and I’ll be ok. But I struggle to find that thing. Fuck, I struggle to even look for that thing.
So at the very last minute with very little preparation or notice or planing, I decided that I’m gonna go and see Zed’s Dead at Red Rocks for the 4th of July. The show is sold old and I don’t have a ticket but that’s of little concern with my knowledge of the universe and a basic understanding of its workings. I just have to do my part, everything else will work itself out. One way or the other. Broke. No direction. Very little ambition. The smallest amount of stability but that’s only cause my homie James, thankfully, thrusts it upon me. I got no responsibilities. No dreams. No anchor. Free to drift wherever it may be. Which is good and bad. So today I drift to Portland, to catch a plane at 12:30 am bound for a 4:30 am arrival in Denver. Nobody picking me up. Which I’m absolutely fine with, I like the train. And nowhere set up to stay. Once again, all gravy. If I’m nothing I am resourceful. I’m charismatic, and crazily enough, approachable. I’m gonna be just fine. But it was a rather rash decision. Poorly thought out mainly due to finances but still a little reckless. I do really want to see Zed’s Dead at Red Rock on the 4th though. And so I sit at a 7-11 just outside of Portland, lookinto at my bank app on my phone and wondering how the fuck this is gonna happen, I can’t help but be excited for Zed’s Dead. They are some of my favorite DJ’s and live music is live music. Not for one second do I doubt that I will be at that show, ticket or no ticket, faith is important and I have faith in my own will power and determination. Anything that I’ve ever wanted, I’ve gotten it. Anything I wanted to do, I did it. I’m not bullshitting when I say I’m unstoppable. Only thing that can stop me is me. So in case I’m caught up in the moment and don’t get a chance, Happy 4th of July. Fuck the American government. Viva la Revolution.
I really kinda am a farmer. Like a white trash, trailer park, weed growing farmer, that has a tendency to gangbang and drug slang. And doesn’t get to farm as much due to the fact that prisons are made from concrete. Although this last time I went to prison I was working at the prison dairy, milking 720 cows a day, 6 days a week. Please tell me I’m not a farmer, and like a farmer I will fight you to defend my honor. And just cause I like to fight.When I do get the chance to farm the land, my thumbs turn green as fuck, cause I’m a motherfucking plant whisperer. I’m no stranger to hard work. I will keep up with or outwork more people then not. Size, age, don’t mean shit, I can fucking work. And I love this outdoors shit. Granted it’s hotter then fuck, but it beats snow any day so I think I’m gonna like this farmer life shit. We better eat one of them turkeys.
My entire life, I’ve always felt like someone was attempting to get me to bend, to meld, to conform. It’s like when you’re a little kid and your older sibling is twisting your arm, demanding that you say uncle and the pain will go away. I could never say uncle. Didn’t matter if my arm was about to break, didn’t matter if I actually wanted to say uncle, if I’m told to do it, it ain’t getting done. Tip to dealing with me, if you want me to do something, do not tell me to do it. In fact it’s best if you don’t even bring it up directly and attempt to get there through the side door, making it a passing comment, or better yet, tell me I can’t do it. I am problematic as fuck. I am kinda hard to deal with and I’m sure I frustrate the fuck out of some people. I am abrasive and inappropriate, with zero filters and have been known to argue anything with anybody, simply because I enjoy to argue. I am almost definitely not gonna do what you want me to do, simply because you want me to do it. It doesn’t matter how hard you twist or the threat’s you offer. I only do what I want to do, sometimes what I want to do is make you happy and so I will oftentimes do things I’d rather not do in order to see you smile, but don’t get it twisted. I have never done anything that I wasn’t 100% down to do. Regardless of the threat of consequences, be they a beating, imprisonment, alienation, your disapproval and scorn. Those things don’t sway me at all. In fact threat’s make me want to go all the way left. Like do you think that I care? What’s the worse you can do? Kill me? Ha. Please do. I’m not scared of death I welcome it. You gonna beat me up? I’ve been beaten worse by better men then any of you could hope to be, and I flipped them off as I spit bloody teeth at them. Incarceration is a joke to someone who is institutionalized. Fuck out of here with that shit. And your disapproval and scorn? Motherfucker I was born with that shit. I can’t remember a day of my life that someone didn’t look at me with scorn or disapproval. In fact it would probably fuck me up more if you looked at me with love and respect. That’s some foreign shit right there. I have never been one of the popular kids, never got invited to join the cool kids club and I’m grateful I didn’t. Those kids aren’t cool. They aren’t even different, they have zero originality. They’re all cookie cutter kids. Made from the some mold. When you are a kid you aren’t taught to be yourself, whatever that self may be. No, instead you are taught to go with the flow, don’t rock the boat. As a kid, being original means your a freak, a weirdo, an outcast. Going against the flow is widely frowned upon and being a freak, especially as a child is rough, more so then when you’re grown. So having gotten through the rough patch of accepting that I’m a freak and growing comfortable being an outcast, your alienation is a joke. I don’t crave of require your fake ass companionship or approval. Your opinions really mean nothing to anyone but you but especially not to me so save that shit. Twist as much as you want, threaten me with your worst, beat me, lock me up, kill me. I won’t say uncle.
I like to say that the only thing that I do know, is that I don’t know nothing. And this is true, because life is flexible, everything is flexible. But I don know a couple things. Number one, everything is just energy and vibrations, frequencies. Everything is just atoms firing on each other. Number 2, energy being what it is cannot be created or destroyed, only transfered. Therefore there is no death, not really. And if there is no death how can there be life? There can’t. Everything is balance, that’s number 3. There can’t be one without the other. Night and day, white and black, male and female, up and down. There is balance in everything. Granted it is often heavy as fuck in certain areas, it is still balanced out due to something elses deficiency. So by that thinking everything is actually serving is purpose because as I also like to say, it takes all kinds. Might even be a kind that you personally find distasteful, still serving it’s purpose, no matter how ugly or beautiful you find it to be. Love, I know love. And I feel it deep inside that love is the answer. Well that and 42. But love is how we fix it, granted it will always be balanced with hate, but that’s why you would try and tip the scales. I step away from what I know for a second to say that I believe that if we just cared about each other a little bit, and I’m not talking about your friends and family, I’m talking about just some random off the street. And not because their pretty or because the appear to you like they might bring something to your life, don’t pick and if you do pick the ugliest most pathetic specimen you can find. Give a fuck about him. I promise it would change the world, at least of two people but for those two people that could be enough. It makes both people happy to do something charitable, it’s dual rewarding, and sometimes life changing. You don’t know what people are gonna through, maybe that nice shit you did keep them from killing themselves, maybe it propelled them to doing great things. At the least it made them smile and we all could use to smile. Back on subject, the last thing I know is, those that aren’t willing, or are unable to adapt and change, will be devoured by the future. So to some all of this up, there is no life or death, this is just a big ass continuous loop. Around and around. Motherfucking groundhogs day. So if that’s true then nihilism is pretty on point and nothing really does matter. But I know love as well, so what the fuck. Is that just some fucked off situation, and we are it’s casualties of war? But intention and purpose are human traits, or true from has no conscious, it contains no soul, it’s just energy, a vibration, a hum. Oh, I know one more thing, I know God. Kick it with it all the time. So if everything is energy are we just different kinds of energy? No, stupid. Energy is energy. We’re just vibrations of that energy. So by this thought process, we are actually all the same, we are everything and everyone. We always have been and always will be and we have done this an infinite number of times, countless. So we’ve actually been each other. You did this shit to. You did that shit too. You been everyone and done everything a thousand times over. So be fucking nice. Stop being low rent motherfuckers, y’all are made from Motherfucking stardust, magical and shit. Act like it. But I’m just crazy so ignore me now like you do when we cross paths on the street. Nothing to see here folks. Just the Truth.
It’s been brutally hot on the west coast for the last week with temperatures averaging about 105° maybe hotter. Whatever the average is it’s hot as fuck. I think someone just told me it was raining and around 40° back in Colorado which isn’t quite average but in Colorado seasons change while you sleep, bipolar is what it is. It can, on say July 4th, be a beautiful day with a temperature around 80°, and still snow fat snowflakes that evening, it can do a quick switch on you if you’re not careful, that’s why people from Colorado almost always have multiple sets of clothing for varying degrees of weather, I mean they always have warm clothes because it can get cold fast. Pueblo is hot. It’s like a desert cesspool so it gets hot as fuck there, topping 100 all the time. But I can’t remember it being this hot there so this is all new. Not new bad either, I like the heat. I’m not real thrilled with the thought of losing weight because of how much I sweat but that’s what protein shakes are for. It’s almost overwhelmingly hot here, almost. The less clothes the better. An air conditioner in my opinion, an absolute must, without it, attempting to use two fans to make it bearable possibly even comfortable, isn’t really possible. The air conditioner barely is able to make it comfortable in my upstairs, converted attic, bedroom. It struggles to fight the hot wind seeping through into the house and barely gets that job done. One thing that does suck about this heat though is it is beating up on my weed plants. The two oldest are gonna be ok, they are some bad bitches so they will survive. But the two new plants that I got, Pineapple Express and Pure Kush, are having a rough time, especially the Pure Kush. I feel pretty good about the Pineapple Express managing to survive the heat, it could go either way, but the Pure Kush is probably hit. She’s just getting cooked. Her leaves are miscolored and blotchy from the burn she’s getting. She was undersized when I got her and I didn’t even give them time inside in the tent, I took both the new clones outside the day after I got them, so they were ill prepared for this heatwave. I might be back in the market for my fourth.