Fuck bitches, get money?

It will take you in, and it'll spit you out.. behold the flesh and the power it holds! - Death, 'Flesh and the Power it Holds'

So in my personal story, girls have a lot to do with my use. I'm sure I've said at least some of this before, but it has become relevant in my life again so forgive me if I repeat myself a little--I don't often look at my past entries, just belt them out as inspiration dictates. Sex was never anything that I held sacred in my days of drugging; it wasn't even really a matter of pride, or a contest as with some people of my gender, but more like a weapon and a survival mechanism. I was so thoroughly involved in matters of sex and superficiality that when my opportunity to demonstrate the quality of my heart came around, I didn't even know where to begin to show real affection.

I have always had something of a hole in my heart, ever since I can remember; I spent every day chasing the ultimate escape route, the easiest way to achieve satisfaction with the present. I knew that the affection of girls was given easily to me, but it was a cheap affection in my eyes because of the multitude of sources and the ease with which I obtained it. Girls that believed they had found some kind of a hidden treasure in me were soon left in a position of emotional and financial bankruptcy. I was a predator, using things that should have been positive and life-affirming for the worst imaginable purposes.

Today, I am finding that I have to work on myself and put my romantic impulses on the back burner. I am someone who is in pain and still healing, both in matters of my heart and my addiction. The more time I spend with my sight turned inward, the more I find that I like myself enough to make that investment and let things happen naturally without my interference--because let's face it, my will has proven to be a weapon of mass destruction. Glad I don't have to live like that anymore. :)

Boundaries.

I got that off-black Cadillac midnight drive, got that gas pedal leaned back taking my time.. I'm blowin' that roof off, letting in sky - I shine, the city never looked so bright! - Macklemore, 'White Walls'

Today, I want to lift up everyone around me - but only if they want to be on my level. There is no better feeling than inspiring somebody that needs to be inspired. I have been to the deepest, darkest depths of life, seen the color of the algae growing at the bottom of the gutter, and I know what it feels like to be hopeless. If I can deliver light into that place for someone else, my own life can only benefit from it.

To me, that doesn't mean putting my own happiness or my own program at risk. I refuse to go down alongside of somebody, and that means that sometimes you have to know when to let go of someone whose arm you have been holding to keep them aloft. I've found that a lot of the time, it doesn't make a difference to them one way or the other--but what I did while I held them may have an impact in their future decisions. Maybe yesterday's kindness, though it doesn't carry through today, will help paint a starker contrast when they find their self at the bottom again.

Everything happens for a reason, and it is what it is.. it is what it should be. :)

Pity this.

I know I'm angry, but what am I supposed to do? - Stone Sour, 'A Rumor of Skin'

Don't pin your sad state on someone else. Check it the fuck out: we are grown ass people, so act like it and OWN YOUR SHIT. Nothing is sadder to me today than a junkie that puts a needle in their arm and accuses everyone around them of putting it there, as though we are Jedi masters with one thing in mind: keeping you down.

And here's another thing that needs a little recognition: ENABLERS, stop pre-ordering tickets to peoples' pity parties, and serve your local victim some truth and accountability instead of worrying your head about what you might have done differently to keep this from happening. We make our own decisions in life, and you're not going to do someone a favor by providing them a hook to hang their bullshit on.

GROW THE FUCK UP, self-pitiers. You don't have to live like that. Make something for yourself that you can feel better about. :) Grab life by the horns, mother fucker.

Miss you..

If you'll be my star

I'll be your sky

You can hide underneath me and come out at night

When I turn jet black

And you show off your light

I live to let you shine

I live to let you shine

But you can skyrocket away from me

And never come back if you find another galaxy

Far from here with more room to fly

Just leave me your stardust to remember you by

If you'll be my boat

I'll be your sea

A depth of pure blue just to probe curiosity

Ebbing and flowing

And pushed by a breeze

I live to make you free

I live to make you free

But you can set sail to the west if you want to

And pass the horizon, 'til I can't even see you

Far from here

Where the beaches are wide

Just leave me your wake to remember you by

If you'll be my star

I'll be your sky

You can hide underneath me and come out at night

When I turn jet black

And you show off your light

I live to let you shine

I live to let you shine

But you can skyrocket away from me

And never come back if you find another galaxy

Far from here with more room to fly

Just leave me your stardust to remember you by

Stardust to remember you by

- Gregory and the Hawk, 'Boats and Birds'

Clean & Free

Yeah in this forest I'm a lonely tree.. my limbs are covered in tattoos and my roots, they run deep!

So this weekend was fucking amazing.

I went to Clean & Free, a sober convention in Ocean Shores, and the situation just kind of got dropped in my lap. A friend of mine--well, I'm not so sure if he's my friend anymore, but I'll get to that--was having trouble finding an appropriately slutty recovery female to go with him, so naturally he settled for taking me instead (LAWL). We drove down to Ocean Shores and met up with an old friend of mine and her friend, and ended up abducting her friend to go and shoot Justin's .40 cal and make a trip to the casino. First of all, let me tell you that the casino is NOT a good idea for me just yet. I am far too much of a flailer to go and start pushing buttons on slot machines at random casinos.. so we left the casino, and this girl decided to stay there with her friend, who she met up with as we were walking out the door.

So Justin and I went back to the hotel room and I tried to sleep off the very trigger-ish feelings that I had developed whilst pushing buttons, and I spoke with my friend (Lexy) on the phone during that time, attempting to get Justin her friend (Haley)'s number. Lexy asked where we had left Haley, because we had abducted her so abruptly and been abandoned by her just the same. I informed her that her friend was at the casino still, and we got off of the phone.

Not long after, Lexy texted Justin's phone thinking it was mine, and said "So, the reason I can't give your friend Haley's number.. is because she wants YO' NUMBAH."

Justin looked at me with the saddest eyes and I was like "what, dude?" And he showed me. Oblivious to the ways of the world, I said (like a dumb ass), "I don't have a number.. I have a Facebook though, tell her I'll add her!"

:p

A few minutes later Lexy texted back "Awkwaaaaard.." and I don't know if that was because she had sent all of that to Justin's phone and thought it was mine, or if it was because her absolutely beautiful friend was trying to mack on me and I was too stupid to get it.

I finally figured it out, in any case, and told her that if her friend wanted my 'number' she could get it herself.

I didn't know this at the time, but Justin at that very same moment became a certain species of Superhater, and as I did my best to not hurt his feelings throughout the next day and a half, he would bombard my gorgeous friends (or "gorgeii," for plural) with Superhater text messages of the bullshit variety, threatening to relapse because his feelings were hurt and finally left me at the convention with them after checking out of the hotel unannounced and blocking me on Facebook. SUPER HATER.

It was totally worth it, though.

Anyway, Clean & Free was fucking amazing, and a lot of the speakers at the events there seemed to speak directly to me--again, my life is fraught with proof of a God that is completely aware of my plight and problems and loves to 'check' me through People Places & Things because it's hilarious for Him to see the look on my face.

There was an Irish convict named Sean that spoke at the Quinault (casino, post-triggerish button pushing trip, which I did much better at because I dodged the slot machines and went straight to the speaker meeting)that talked about putting on the mask of a "killer" because he had been to the Feds and robbed people for years, but that the reality was that that defense kept him sick in the long run, and that he didn't get recovery until he dropped the act and let people get close. He was an amazing speaker, and besides Haley--who could have done WAY better than me at that convention and after, and I had to think fast and be charming in the paint before she came to her senses--it was the highlight of my trip.

Let me tell you that I probably had little to nothing to do with any of the good things that happened to me this week end. Need proof? Look at my ENTIRE life before I went to treatment. The last good thing that my self-will had anything to do with was probably some Macaroni art in the third grade.

I'm definitely a fan of Clean & Free now, and I would recommend it to any recovering addicts in the world, I don't care if you have to fly from Japan to attend. :x

Later, maign!

H.A.L.T.

Mind strong, body strong, try to find equilibrium.. head straight, screwed-on, we screwed up for too long. - Bush, 'The Sound of Winter'

I guess it was bound to happen--I've fallen off my pink cloud somewhat, and life is a little less electric these days. Not that there's really anything wrong with that. Life is still exponentially better than it was in my use.

I've been writing a CRAZY amount in my memoir, and it's a story that I almost feel I can't rest until I get out. But I have to. The thing is, I've gone to meetings far too little since I began writing, which also means that I haven't been getting out of the house for shit. My roommates are awesome, but they're still my roommates, and they're sort of a given.

Thank God for IOP, because if it weren't for Outpatient I would be like furniture in this mother fucking house. ;)

Memoir of a street kid. :x

So I've started working on a memoir, and may be posting on here a little less.

My bad, but it's amazing therapy and is turning out to be some pretty decent writing..

Thanks, y'all