Only Lamby-Pie was Worthy (lilybutterland) wrote,
Only Lamby-Pie was Worthy


blogging your diary is weird.

drugs and alchol arnt real. i experimentally quit cold turkey a week ago and i told myself it was ok to get fucked up for hallo but i didnt feel like it. i think i'm just burnt out on always blacking out, as in memory shot, as in i party like an asshole for hours and bungle arround fucking shit up in good and nasty ways and then i dont remember shit a few hours later.


HALLOWEEN is dumb. or maybe its just no fun on the west coast. back in mortville i made a religious spiritual quest out of it. the whole point of halloween is s'posed to be to abandon the self and give your corpse over to creatures that burrow around underneath the back of your brains. and then the "self" gets kicked and punched up a bit as the imps get to revolt at only getting to exist on rare ocasions while you waste your control of the corpse on appplying for jobs and waiting in the waiting room of some free clinic who promise to make your brain better normal.

clinics are almost as bad as narcotics anonymous. NA even in sanFag, dont have fucking meetings any later than 9pm. I hate being clean and sober. I was fine when i was gobbling speed and oxy and whiskyising my head. allright there was lots of bad lost hours black outs and i rushed my friend kashmere with a knife claiming i was gonna cut the fuck outa him. i have never actually stabbed or even slashed anyone. that was the same day i was stopping traffic in the middle of frenchman street screaming that everyone who could hear me was a fucking JEW-FAG and could eat it. people didnt understand that i really like jew-fags and i was doing an experiment or sumthing. i didnt get beat up. well i got punched a few times but that was by my close friends who i was threatening. the point is is that yes, I have done alot of drugs and associated dumb crap but i wasn't that bad. i mean all i really did was a daily cocktail of dexi-adderol-ritalin-ephidrin, a little oxy morphine or methadone on specila occasions like if it rained or if i'd just sold a bunch. and i totally allready quit drinking back in january. but after a moth of being sober watching everyone else be drunk and stupid i started really hating all my friends and my communitee and the wasted little town of morteville and this long held compulsive beleif in the back of my mind about that i am fucking crazy in the head and predisposed to hating everybuddy and wanting to run hide down a hole.

sobriety is bringing back my loner tendencies. i was a hermit for 7 fucking years before i washed up in morteville. drugs and alchol are really great for meeting people and getting to go to lil parties and they break the ice for making new friends and it beats the shit out of social anxiety. drugs and alchol smash social anxiety in the face and head with metal pipe and leave social anxiety bleeding in a coma in a pile of trash. social anxiety is so fucking drunk sometimes that you can just casually walk up to her with a pipe, tell her your gonna kill her, and she'll just talk shit at you but probably just sit there waiting for the metal pipe to excuse her from class so she can have a happy little long nap.

y'know wut? fuck journalling right now. i'm just verbal diarehaing stream of concious bleh.

please note here that i'm not spiralling in to a black hole of sorrow. more like i am a playfull day dreamin little kitten who is actually a dead kitten corpse reanimated because theres so many organised maggots in side her that they can operate her like a smelly rotting puppet, and the world is utter shitvomit but kittens gotta frolic and stare in to space, even if they are zombies.

the buissiness card for my expensive psychoanalist was in my back back that got stolen last night. i thought hiding my backback beside a couch full of drunks at the party was a good spot. some othe rwoman got her back pack stolen and was screaming at her boyfriends and choking back tears and pounding more beer and fuming in a chair. i was really glad she got her stuff stolen worse than i did cuz it cheered me up. otherwise i woulda felt that the demons had it in for me.

i gotta track down my shrinks contact info cuz i feel that for $160 a session i should also be able to use her like an NA sponsor and i should be allowed to call and email her every time i'm blue so i can rant at her.

i'd do that right exactly now but I'm back at hell house temporarilly and mr. dobbs is inviting me to go make sandwitches in a grave yard. sure. why the fuck not.

halloween was mostly me being at parties that were ending but it was ok... people go to bed to early in this town. this communitee is like they never even heard of speed or sumthing. fucking califurnyehians just drink and smoke pot cuz califurnyeh's GNP is pot based.

i'm gonna save this town by starting a meth lab in the back of hell house. anybuddy got black iodine or a quantity of ephidrin HCl ??



and i aint pitching in any cash on the sandwitches cuz my money is in my backpack and who knows were the hell that is. i'm never storing money anywere but my shoe ever again. taking off my shoes to buy coffee is not weird or socially awkward, fuck you.
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