I sometimes wish that that padlock had killed me instead of splitting my dome and giving me some brain damage. I mean since I have to take some brain damage the least it could have done was give me amnesia. Just wipe that shit clean, erase everything and let me get a legit restart. I’m not sure how amnesia works but I don’t think you would have to relearn how to walk or talk. I feel like you’d be the same except you would remember shit. You wouldn’t know anybody, everyone would be a complete stranger. You wouldn’t remember all the situations that caused you to carry around all the baggage that you do. Wouldn’t have the hang-ups or issues. The subconscious voice in my head would finally be silenced, no longer whispering to me what a fuck-up I am and how I don’t deserve to have anything nice. Sure it would be rough to start because I’m sure it’s probably an empty kind of feeling but I’d waste no time filling up all that empty space. My nihilism would probably vanish along with my memories, possibly taking my apathy with it. At least for a minute. Long enough for me to realize once again that people as a majority, suck. That kindness and compassion are on the endangered list in serious danger of being eliminated completely. That most people only care about themselves and can’t be bothered with the struggles of others, choosing to ignore and walk away from situations that don’t benefit them. But eventually I’d figure it out again and I’d grow distant from a society that I’ve hated for as long as I can remember. A society that is particularly responsible for creating the trainwreck I currently am. I’m not blaming or pointing fingers I’m just making an observation. I am well aware of who’s fault it is that I am the way I am. It’s God’s. Kidding, I don’t believe in a God, at least not like they want me to. No I know that it’s my fault that I am the way I am. A long list of situations combined with decisions I made are what’s led me to where I’m currently at. It’s not that I’m ashamed or embarrassed, I have no regrets. If I had a time machine I wouldn’t got back and make choices differently, if I had a time machine I’d go back to the womb and wrap the cord around my neck. Ok maybe that’s a little extreme. If I had a time machine and could go back in time I wouldn’t go back to change me, I’d go back to change you. I’m at a point in my life where I’m kind of just over the human race. With age comes wisdom and with wisdom comes the undeniable fact that people for the most part are just rotten, self-absorbed, fake, sheep. More concerned with what people are going to think about them and the things that they do then they are with the actual things that they do. Seems to me that everybody is so worried about looking cool and being popular that they don’t even know who they actually are as a person. You got people who are just carbon copies. Cookie cutter people living cookie cutter lives and even the freaks that are like, “I’m not like them I’m an original.” But they are just carbon copies of the freaks next to them. Cookie cutter outcasts. I’m a conundrum in almost everything I do because I am(sometimes) a very sociable person, enjoying the company and togetherness of others, yet at the very same time being antisocial and holding most people in contempt. I both want to save and destroy the world and everyone in it. I want to be like but I could care less whether you actually like me or not. One lesson that I’ve learned along the road is that everybody falls off. The only person you are ever going to truly be able to trust is you, and sometimes you can’t even trust that. I was raised with the thought that your word was your bound, that you were only as good as your word, but it seems like I was in the minority with that. Most people’s word don’t mean shit. A person will look you straight in the eyes and feed you some pretty hefty promises never once intending to follow though. Just telling you what they think you need to hear in order to do whatever it is that they want you to do. And after not following though they feel nothing. No shame. No disappointment. No nothing. It’s like they never said shit. And when you get pissed about it they somehow try to turn it around on you like it’s you that’s the asshole for expecting anything from them at all. It sometimes feels to me like people have the delusion that they are owed something, and maybe some people are. But not most of you. Most of you aren’t owed shit and in fact it’s you that’s running up the debt, that it’s you that actually owe something. But that debt will forever go unpaid because most likely you aren’t even aware of a debt being owed and if you are you probably don’t give a fuck about it, because it’s all about you. The struggles and misery of others just something for you to talk about on social media and make fun of with your lame ass memes. Yeah amnesia would be nice but it wouldn’t last. You’d quickly relearn all the negative shit while forgetting all the beauty and magic that made the misery worth it. I have no idea what I’m talking about. I just know that most of y’all suck at life and I could just as easily do without you. So much so in fact that running away to the wilderness and becoming a hermit looks better and better everyday.
I haven’t looked forward to a birthday since I was a kid, and in fact dread the day for the most part. 42 birthdays is more then enough to be over the whole situation. I had a stretch of birthdays that were not just not good, they were fucking rotten and so I could care less about my birthday. I stopped getting presents for the most part when I still lived with my folks so that’s not there to look forward to. When asked what I want for my birthday, depending on who’s asking the answer is usually nothing, unless it’s my girl in which case I want a blowjob. There are no more milestone birthdays that allow me some kind of new privilege, like 16 or 21 or 25. No more dreadful birthdays like turning 30 or 40, 50 don’t seem as bad as 30 and 40 did. It’s just another day anymore, a day I’d rather passed as quickly and quietly and with as little fanfare as possible. It’s just a reminder that I’m one year closer to being done with this body. An excuse for why my body hurts so bad. I was born at 7:24 pm so technically it’s not really even my birthday till then and it only lasts for a few hours so we could just as easily say fuck it and not recognize it at all. But with social media being what it is it is virtually impossible to slide on through without someone saying something so it is what it is. Here’s to another day above ground. To good friends and great family. And to me getting a blowjob tonight. Happy birthday to me.
I am and probably always will be a trainwreck. Judged and misunderstood by most, I have never been one of the “cool kids”. Even through I have been well known I have not always been well liked. People find it easy to assume that they know about a motherfucker just because of the stories that they’ve heard. They find it easy to believe that given the same situations they would of handled them so much better. Making better choices and leading a different life. But the fact is, you have no fucking idea what someone else is going through, no clue about the shit that is going on inside a motherfuckers head. From the outside looking in it isnt hard at all to make stupid ass assumptions about the lives people live and the bullshit that they put themselves through. It’s easy to second guess a person’s choices and the mistakes that they’ve made. It takes no effort at all to pass judgment on someone and look down on them. It’s a whole lot harder to actually try and understand a person and the things that they do. It seems like people can’t be bothered with all that. It seems like people would just prefer to look down from their perch and talk shit and ridicule someone that they consider lower then themselves. This makes me sad. Do you know how many super rad people you are going to miss out on simply because you don’t bother trying to get to know them and maybe not understand who they are but at least except it? I can promise you it will be a lot. I’m not saying that you have to do this with all people because let’s be honest, there are some pretty shitty people out there, but how are you ever gonna truly know when your judgemental ass won’t even give a motherfucker a shot. Variety is the spice of life. Peoples differences is one of the things that gives this world its beauty. Why would you want to live in a world where everyone is exactly the same? Where we all think the same and act the same? Dress the same. Live in the exact same cookie cutter houses. Doing the exact same boring ass routine. Just marching through life awaiting the flash. Yeah, fuck that. I’m good on all that. I love that you are different from me. I’m glad that you don’t think the same way that I do. It’s lovely to hear you personal opinions. I cherish your different stories about the paths that led you to the people that you are today. I love the people you have become and had you not been built different, if you hadn’t had the lives you’ve had, then you wouldn’t be the people you are who I love so much. Fuck what they say. Fuck what they think. You are fucking rad. You are doing amazing and I’m super proud of you. You are made from star dust and never forget that.
I need to get my shit together. I am currently traveling, 90 mph down the road to self-destruction, all gas, no brakes. I’ve been on this road for years. So long in fact that I can’t remember any other. I suffer from a handful of mental issues. Depression, anxiety, a general hopelessness. I have serious trust issues. Anger problems. I have zero boundaries and suck at communicating. I’m immature as fuck. Irresponsible and unruly. I’m antisocial with a thick wrap sheet. 3 time loser with the department of corrections. I’m just a big hot mess. I’ve got so many problems that my problems got problems. We have reached a point where we’re borderline no turning back, which I’m kinda cool with. But I’m kinda not. My biggest mental issue is my subconscious mind. So I know that I’m a badass. That I’m a straight gangster. Magical as fuck, capable of anything I can wrap my mind around. Anything that I’ve ever really wanted I’ve had it, if only for just a minute. I’m good at everything I do passionately which is pretty much the only shit I do, and believe it or not I’m lucky as fuck. Or blessed. Regardless, I’m not lacking in confidence. But even though I know I’m a badass, there is some part of me deep inside that thinks that I’m just a piece of shit. That I’m worthless and unworthy of love. That I’m just gonna always fuck shit up and probably die either in prison or alone in some dark, dirty alley. All those fuckhead adults that always had some shit to say, whom I always thought dumb as fuck and full of shit, but I’m gonna memorize the mantra of bullshit I’ve heard all my life. And the worst part is I’m not sure exactly how to fix it. I don’t even really know when I’m self-sabotaging myself until after I’ve already done it. It’s getting old. I know that that subconscious bullshit is exactly that, bullshit. I know that shits not true. I know my worth better then anyone and I deserve to be happy and loved. I deserve to be ok. But I’m not. Maybe I need to go to therapy. Or get on some meds. Or maybe get off of some. I need to do something because I don’t want to wake up one morning and not feeling the love that I do for people which is the only thing keeping me alive. Well that and an undying need to shove my middle fingers in your face and say, “See motherfuckers? Y’all were wrong about who you thought I was.” Or better yet to have them say that. Pipe dreams. Delusions of grandeur.
I have a tattoo on my neck of a timebomb. I got it because, one day I was at work and there was this altercation between these two dudes. One was this really nice old hippie dude and the other this weirdo named Russ who was always pissed off about something, always bitching and moaning. Russ was tripping on this hippie over some made up shit and decided to put his hands on him. The hippie, one of the nicest people you could meet was not a fighter, I couldn’t even imagine and Russ knew that shit. He was just trying to bully this dude and I don’t like bullies, plus I like to fight, so quick as shit I was out of my seat, grabbing Russ by his throat and choke slamming his ass on the ground. That’s all I did, besides talk some shit. I just wanted to let him know that I thought he was being an asshole and that he wasn’t going to be putting hands on people without hands being put on him. The rest of the day at work was awkward cause Russ was all salty but when I asked the room what I should get for a tattoo, it was Russ who said I should get a timebomb. He said I was a snapcase, quick as fuck to fly off and snap. He said that I was dangerous, that I have problems. I mean he wasn’t wrong. I think I was born angry and looking for a fight. My dad was the biggest prick you ever could of met. He was angry as fuck all the time and I was washed with it daily. I am my father’s son. I won’t walk by someone talking shit, I will always turn around and ask a motherfucker what they just said. I like to fight, in fact that’s my favorite part about prison, you can fight and nobody is gonna tell. The problem is that I’m always so eager to fight that I sometimes cause problems where there was none to begin with. I have grown up a little with all this aging and I’m a whole lot better then I was when I was younger, as a kid I was just as likely to punch you in the face as I was to say hello. But as an adult I can take a little step back (sometimes) to look at the bigger picture and I’m not so quick to lose it. Unless I feel like you’re trying to act aggressive, if I sense aggression I match it with aggression and double down on that shit. I’m a smash out and ask questions later type of guy. I don’t believe that you’ve ever truly lived unless you have been in a fight and I believe that everyone has it coming. Nobody is above getting their ass kicked and sometimes that’s all that there is left to do. I think that’s one of the major problems that we face today, our kids ain’t getting their asses whooped and so they know no respect. Fear is a good teacher for respect. I learned to respect people for fear of getting my ass kicked. These kids now days have zero fear of their parents. In fact the parents are scared of the kids, of them snitching them out to cps and losing custody. Kids know that they can get away with pretty much everything and that gives them a false sense of security which makes them even more ignorant and misguided, dooming our future even further. Violence is part of the problem but it’s a solution to that same problem as well. It’s a human trait, something that we are born with or born to, but regardless it’s what we do. It’s what we know. And it’s one hell of a strong teacher when it comes to life experiences if your into learning lessons.
I had never even heard of progressive house. I have always talked shit on house music, never liking any of the music introduced to me as house music. I always thought that Deadmau5 was dubstep. Turns out he is considered the King of Progressive House. Turns out I do like house music, as long as it’s progressive at least. I went to my second concert at Red Rocks in the last months. My second EDM concert. The first one was Allison Wonderland about a month ago, which was rad. I’m gonna have to say that Deadmau5 was better though. There is definitely something to electronic music played live, especially at a venue like Red Rocks. The way that the bass vibrates off of the red rock cliffs that give the place its name is spectacular. I feel like you could easily not buy a ticket and still go and enjoy the music by just chilling outside the gates. You would miss the light show though and the light show at Deadmau5 was top notch. The dude was wearing this big ass mouse head, equipped with neon green, led eyes. Seeing that giant mouse tearing up that Colorado night was something I’ll remember till my dying days, even though I ended up going by myself. Maybe even more so. Anyways, you can know officially call me a fan of progressive house and even more of a fan of Deadmau5.
I’ve lost 2 friends to suicide over the last month. One of them was a close friend since childhood, the other one I’d known for 20 years so both I’d consider life-long. Super nice people who at least from where I was sitting, seemed to be doing good, seemed to be living their best lives. One of them had kids but both of them had families that they left behind, families torn apart and damaged, possibly even destroyed. Definitely changed. It just sucks. I’m sad as fuck. Suicide sucks. It’s by far the most selfish thing a person can ever do, leaving the people who loved and cared about you stuck here full of sadness and questions. Questions like, what could I have done? What didn’t I do? Why couldn’t I see this coming? How could I have helped? All questions with no answers. I myself suffer from depression. I haven’t had the easiest life, things very rarely go my way, my life is full of disappointment and loss. It has not been fair. I actually think about killing myself a lot more then I should. When I’m consumed by my depression I definitely tell people I want to kill myself a lot more then I should. I understand where my friends were coming from, I understand why they did it. I can’t argue that this place sucks. Can’t deny that life’s not fair and that most people are shit. I know the fear that things will never get better, that in fact things will most likely get worse. I understand feeling like everything, like everybody would be better off if I was just not here. Life is pain, I understand wanting to get away from that. But I also understand what me killing myself would do to those that love me and who I in turn love. I realize what my death would do. Sure I’d be free and clear, no more pain and suffering for me, no more misery. I’d finally be ok but my mom wouldn’t. My girl wouldn’t. My kids wouldn’t. So it’s like this, me or them. Either I’m miserable or they are. I suffer or they do. Is it fucked up that I’m angry? Is it wrong that I’m jealous?
So I have recently become interested in aquarium fish, those little glow in the black light Glofish in particular. Fortunately enough my girl had a fish tank at her house which she had grown tired of taking care of and had become overtaken by all the nastiness that a fish tank, when not being properly maintained, can be. When I started you could barely see inside the tank, a thick coat of slimy algae making it virtually impossible to see through. The water was also super cloudy and the smell was pretty rank. I started out with a long ass scrub brush and scrubbed the walls as clean as possible. This made the water even cloudier but at least I could see into the gloom. The tank had numerous decorations that you could no longer identify due to the thick slime that was covering it. As the water began to clear I discovered that there were 4 fish still alive in the tank. A Rainbow Shark, a pink Glofish Tetra, and 2 Cory Catfish. I rescued them from the mess and placed them in a tiny little tank I’d gotten especially for this and prayed that the shark didn’t eat anybody before I could get the tank cleaned. It took me nearly 2 days to clean the fish tank. I scrubbed and scrubbed at the aquarium decorations and cleaned them up some but scrub as hard as I might, I couldn’t get them all the way cleaned. I pulled all the fake plants from the tank and just threw them in the trash, not even bothering to try and clean them up. I went to the pet store and got some aquarium soil and a handful of underwater plants that the pet store carried. I also got some assorted plant bulbs. I mixed the soil with the black light sensitive gravel I got and planted a little underwater garden, kind of like a little underwater forest with Java ferns and bamboo and some other shit I don’t know the name of. I conditioned the water, making sure it was the proper temperature and returned my 4 survivors to their home. I’d gotten a new bubble tube that had flashing, dancing LED lights to accompany the bubbles which suctioned to the back wall and I also got a couple of extra blues lights that hooked to the rim of the tank because I learned that Glofish don’t actually glow in black lights, they glow under blue lights. With the tank clean I decided to add some fish. I was gonna get some more Glofish Tetras to go with my one surviving Pink tetra but when I got to the pet store the had just received a new shipment of Glofish which contained a bunch of Glofish Tiger Barbs. Tiger Barbs look like little piranhas and are semi-aggressive so they make good tankmates for the shark, which the tetras really don’t. I got 6 Glofish Tiger Barbs to start, 3 green and 3 red and added them to my tank. It was at this point that I started teaching myself about aquarium fish. Mainly about Rainbow Sharks and Tiger Barbs, but also just about schooling community fish as well. I learned about the ins and outs of aquarium set-up. About filtration systems and lighting. About size limitations and water conditions. About schooling fish and community tanks. At first I thought it was just like add tank, water and fish and you were good to go but come to find out there’s a whole lot more to it then that. I learned how dirty fish actually are, requiring constant maintenance in order to keep the tank clean and healthy and the fish happy and active. I also figured out why the tank had been so dirty and my girl was so burned out by having the tank in general, owning a fish aquarium is a lot of work, most of which is dirty and expensive. But I also learned that this is something I want to do. A hobby that I find interesting and rewarding. Done correctly, it’s like having Animal Planet live in my living room.
Halloween has always been o e of my favorite holidays. Besides the fact that it’s usually snowing by or around Halloween and pretty much signals the coming of winter, I like everything about Halloween. The costumes. Beautiful women dressed slutty as fuck, wearing little to no clothing whatsoever. Free candy. It’s considered an evil pagan holiday so I like that, there’s no God leaching off of this one. It’s just a cool holiday which I’ve almost always enjoyed celebrating. Since I don’t have my kids anymore, since I’m no longer really into the party scene and since I rarely have a girl that is trying to drag me out to social situations Halloween has become a rather boring holiday for me. I don’t dress up. I’ve been going as a drug dealer for as long as I can remember, requiring me only to roll out of bed and wear whatever it is I would normally wear for the day. It’s an easy costume, not a lot of thought put I to it. Sometimes things change and what was once acceptable to you or longer is. Things that used to mean jack shit to me now have a little importance, they now hold appeal and I urge to experience them. So tonight I guess we are gonna try and go to a haunted house. I don’t believe in haunted houses or ghosts but I do enjoy a good scare. HAPPY HALLOWEEN.
My gambling addiction is no joke. I collect addictions like little boys collect baseball cards, or like rich chicks collect shoes. I haven’t found a vice that I wasn’t able to get down with. Well, except spice. That shit is all bad. Fishing on the concrete and stumbling around like some drunk with down syndrome didn’t look very fun to me at all. But that’s about it. Shit, if there’s gas in the tank I’ll huff it. My addiction to gambling has always been there, since the time I was like 12 and I won my first $100 on a $1 scratch ticket. I could spend a lot on scratch tickets but it was nothing to what I can lose at the casino. I managed to stay out of the casino for the first 40 years of my life, occasionally playing blackjack when I would go to Vegas but I never caught the bug and so I hand no problem walking away. Well I caught the bug now. I ate that motherfucker. I got 99 problems and they probably all stem from gambling. Sometimes I kill it, winning time after time, gambling for hours, sometimes days, stacking bread and being able to slide out a winner. Gambling funded my escape from Colorado and my move to Oregon. It paid for the jeep that I rolled and for my plane ticket back home to Colorado after I rolled it with money won at the casino. But the house always wins and so it goes that I win $2,500 only to lose $5,000. The casino has put me in more financial trouble over the last 2 years then all the girls I’ve been with combined. I’m a fully functional addict 99% of the time, rarely allowing my addictions to interfere with my real life but that 1% is reserved for booze and gambling. That 1% is super non-functioning, and in fact is dangerous and counterproductive as fuck. Gambling threatens the safety and future of especially me but also all of those close to me. When alcohol became dangerous and counterproductive or at least when I became truly aware of the fact, I eliminated that shit quick as fuck. I need to do that with gambling. It’s been bad for a minute but it’s gotten to where I can’t ignore it anymore. Something has to be done.