It’s been a while since I’ve been on here; I don’t know if any of the people I used to look for are still here. I have a story to tell you guys, cause it needs to be told and I can’t afford to be held accountable for it telling someone I know.
Last time I was frequenting Sp, I was living in a halfway house and coming up on 6months sober. I met a woman named C on this site who was living in the UK and planning a trip to the US, “going west†as it were to Las Vegas to go to a gun show. The plan was that her and I were going to meet in the Midwest and get a rental car, drive to Vegas, I would buy the gun, and we would go into the desert together and blow our brains out. Unfortunately this didn’t come to pass, and I’m still here and I’m not sure what happened to C. I was so excited to meet her, to finally have a friend and go on a road trip again. I used to be a vagabond and hitchhike all around the country eating LSD and meeting strange people on quirky adventures and I hadn’t been on a road trip (or any trip for that matter) in years.
I got so anxious that I couldn’t keep living like a mental patient in the halfway house; I told the counselor that I was leaving in 2weeks, packed up all my shit, and cleaned the entire house immaculate to say thanks and fuck you. I went to my parents house and dropped the boxes in the spare bedroom closet, grabbed my old hippie satchel (a 60’s army bag that you could fit an average 1st grader in), my acoustic guitar, and layered up with 4 coats, 3 pair of pants, 2 pair of socks, gloves, hat, boot knife and all. I took my coin collection to the bank and cashed it in for 23$ (complete rip off) and went downtown to meet up with my buddy X. I bought me and X 2 bags of weed and 2 40oz beers and started my relapse like a champ, wound up buying another 40 and a pint of vodka and spending the night puking my guts out under a bridge next to the train tracks. I woke up next morning and went downtown to busque- made about 20$ and got more weed and beer.
I made fair weather friends quickly and got to sleep in a lawn chair that night in Js basement, the nights I didn’t sleep there, I slept outside if it was warm enough, or in the homeless shelter. The homeless shelter has a policy that after the first night you sleep there, you have a week to go to their ‘guidance center’ to talk to the counselor and get a homeless shelter ID, so I did that and at the guidance center I met this guy J (not the first J I mentioned, a different one). We talked about work and drugs and as I was leaving I saw him walking and asked him if he wanted to drink a 40 with me. He agreed and said that he was headed to his ‘girl’s’ house where he had some booze, that we could drink there, so off we went. His ‘girl’ turned out to be a 15 year old Puerto Rican prostitute who he was pimping out to these Mexicans who ran a pizza shop. She turned a trick and got us 50$ to buy booze and snacks. We stole bikes that night and rode them to his other prostitute’s house, and she gave us some weed, then we rode to the shelter in the pouring rain wasted out of our gourd. I left in the morning and went to the library to sleep some more and I didn’t see J for a few weeks after that.
Next time I saw him he invited me over to his ‘girl’ (the 15 year old whom I will call Y) Y’s house and we got drunk and high. I ended up meeting her mom, L, a former CADC (addictions counselor) and talking to her for a few hours. She told me that they were on the verge of being evicted from their apartment, were leaving any day now; that they lost a bunch of money paying for their son’s legal troubles and rehab treatments, and they had no car. L worked as a caretaker for a nursing home, and she ended up paying most of the money she made getting to and from work (she was using a cab company). She invited me to stay the night and gave me a cot to sleep on. I woke up early in the morning, cleaned up after myself and snuck out the back door. I walked over to my parents house and made up a story about how I had found a job providing transportation to caretakers and clients at a nursing home and got keys to their spare van (they have 3) and permission to drive it as long as I paid them a percent of my income.
I called L and told her I could drive her to work for half of what she was paying the cab company-20$ there, and 20$ back. I did this for about 2 weeks before it started to suck. L started turning into a crazy demanding psycho *****. At first she’d ask if we could stop at the gas station and McDonalds on the way to work to get a newspaper and a cup of coffee- it seemed reasonable so I did it. And from there she just kept adding on more places- the bank, the pawn shop, the grocery store, the dentists office, the DMV and she started asking me to pick up Y and take her to her john’s houses and then back home, or she’d have me pick up Y to bring her to L’s work so that I could drop off Y on the way home from dropping off L and L wouldn’t pay me any more for doing this. Some days I went on 5hour errand running excursions for 40$ and it cost 35$ for gas.
L’s son came home from rehab and we quickly became friends. He, unlike L and Y was very fair when he wanted a ride. He would give me 2 bags of heroin for a trip to and from the dope spot, and he would help me make money stealing iron and copper and taking it to the scrap yard. I would pick him up after dropping off his mom at work and we’d go get high in the city. I kept doing this routine for about 2months.
J started pissing off the family and him and Y were living at his cousins house. One night the house got raided by police and they found an 8ball of coke and a cell phone with videos of J and his cousin fucking Y. They both went to jail for child pornography, statutory rape, and possession. To express her grievances, Y got J’s cousin’s name tattooed on her wrist. L eventually got to me with her ridiculous demands and I stopped giving her rides. I just picked up C (her son) and spent all my money on dope. One night he called me at 3 in the morning and wanted me to help him steal a generator from a factory. I had been awake for 4days and was really dope sick and needed the cash. On the way there I crashed the van and put a big ugly scratch in the side of it, then I got a speeding ticket, and a ticket for a missing headlight, and a ticket for not having insurance and they took my drivers license. My parents took the van key back and asked me for their cut of the money I was making, and I was able to give them a little of it (about half).
It was the middle of winter by this point and it really sucked to have to sleep outside again and to have to walk to the homeless shelter, especially because I was sick and strung out. I started breaking in to abandoned houses that the bank had foreclosed on. One of the houses had a bed in it, but it was still really cold and had no heat, electricity or running water. I was broke again and didn’t know where else to go, so finally I moved into my parent’s basement. C from SP sent me an email requesting me to send her painkillers in the mail around this time (which I apologetically declined). I started talking to my ex fiancé online again too, and that really fucked me up.
(Maybe one day I’ll tell you what happened between us, I feel like I have to type it out eventually but it’s going to be 10times longer than this novel of a post so I don’t have the energy today) She said she broke up with her boyfriend of 2years and her grandpa died. She was drinking heavily and doing a lot of coke and she needed me. We talked back and forth and I ended up spilling my guts and telling her I still love her and I want to be with her still. She coldly smacked me down in her usual bitter way and then said something like “well maybe someday we can be together again, but I don’t want to give you false hope.†(which of course gave me false hope). And we started making plans to see each other. At first I was going to meet her halfway between her state and mine, then we decided it would be better if she came here. The first time we talked in 2 years was amazing! We talked for 3 ½ hours and I felt like I had discovered a part of my brain that’d been missing since childhood, at the end of the conversation I felt like I was floating around my parent’s basement- I was happy- for the first time in 3years, I was actually happy. We continued to talk about once a week for 2 months. She kept flirting with me and then cutting me down, like she always does, whenever I would flirt back. We ended up talking about all the shit that went wrong between us in the past and coming to what seemed like a conclusive truce, and then out of no where she started being totally mean to me again. She would answer my calls or respond to my messages, and she said something to the extent of she wasn’t coming to see me anymore.
So being the rocket scientist that I am, I stole my mother’s credit cards, and the van and drove 600miles to see her in the middle of the night. I got there at 10:30 in the morning and tried to call her-she ignored me twice- then I texted her asking her where she was. She was annoyed and confused and eventually humored me b telling me she was staying at her ex boyfriend’s studio. I wanted to leave then, but I couldn’t after I went all that way and burnt the bridge with my parents so badly.
We went to all of our old sentimental spots, spent 10hours talking and had a good old fashioned nostalgic nightmare. I cried more than I ever had in my life- I was so embarrassed I wanted to bury myself alive. Not surprisingly she wasn’t at all happy to see me, she looked scared and sort of sad. She told me she didn’t love me anymore and she didn’t want to be close to me at all, not even to hold my hand- she hugged me goodbye for a long time, and kissed my cheek. I kissed her but I could tell she didn’t want to and was just doing it out of pity- she told me it didn’t feel good and she still didn’t feel anything for me. She went back to her ex boyfriend’s studio that night. And I went and stayed at my best friend in the whole world’s parent’s house. I needed him more than ever that night, and for the first time in my life, someone was there for me when I was beat to hell, and it felt really strange, but I was grateful. We got drunk and high, and I passed out in his spare bedroom. The next morning I went back to my parents’ house, all 600 lonely miles.
When I got back to my parents house they didn’t yell at me or anything, they just looked sad to see me back. I told them I’d pay them back eventually and they rolled their eyes. I waited for them to go to bed and when I was sure they were out I lept to my feet and I pulled out my plan B suicide kit consisting of 20 temezaam, 20 suboxone, a 27gague needlepoint syringe, 2 large baby feeding syringes, a 1/4th cup tin cooker, cigarette cottons, lighter, and tourniquet. I crushed up all the pills and cooked down the suboxone. I cut the tip off the needle point and melded it onto the baby feeding syringe to make a 4tablespoon shot. It worked perfectly with water, was airtight and all and I was proud of myself and indeed surprised it worked so well, with my index finger to chin wondering where the other foot was going to fall from and how this time it wasn’t going to work. The shoe did fall, as the liquid suboxone clogged the needle making it useless. I was really pissed. So I did what any self respecting suicidal derelict would- I took all 20 temezapam, and 20 more suboxone, blended them together, back fed them into the other baby syringe, shoved it up my asshole and injected it anally.
I ended up getting very very sick (no ‘shit eh) and shitting blood for about 2weeks. I had to keep drinking water to puke more because if I didn’t I’d just dry heave. It was horrible. Suboxone+temezepam OD doesn’t work you guys- don’t try it.
I’m still paying my parents back the money I spent. I sold my laptop, and my guitar (my only 2 legitimate possessions left over from my engagement worth liquidating). After that I’m saving up for a shotgun. I’m trying to apply for a FOID card- do any of you know about the section where it asks about mental health facilities history and drug use history- like do they look that shit up? Will they know if I lie? Or can I be honest and still get a foid card? If I tell them I’ve been institutionalized and I’m a drug addict, will they still approve me? Anyway that’s a ways down the road.
The first week I was back I got a message from The Emotron- he asked me about some pills I’d offered to trade him for a t-shirt. I told him I still had them and sent them to the address he gave me. 3days later I got a package in the mail handwritten from the Tron himself to my pseudonym consisting of the t-shirt, an Emotron pillowcase, and 7stickers. It was great! I’m still wearing the shirt and it’s been 5weeks.
2 days ago my best friend who I mentioned called me to tell me that our bag sold. See we started selling these ‘haunted objects’ on ebay after he lost his job at the antique store. I wrote a description of a haunted ziplock bag that’s full of ghosts that resurrect your stale cheetos, and we put it on ebay for 50$. Some nut job fucking bought it! And wants to know who resurrects the cheetos? Is it angels? Aliens? What about dragons? Can it heal dragons?! That was awesome too! My friend and I are going to start a store that sells only haunted objects. I’m so excited about it!
I got a job now, a legitimate job, 2 days a week pushing paper through a scanner. I hate it, but it pays money, and I know that it’l be worth it once I finally get to push the shells in the double barrel and flip the shit up like a badass zombie killin ************ and finally get the fuck out of this zombie shopping mall. Thanks for reading my novel! If you post any of this ‘there’s plenty of fish’ or ‘god has a special plan for you’ nonsense, I’d like to extend a warm invitation to you to go fuck yourself and save your horse shit for someone who gives a shit- if you have any other non religious, non pity/encouragement based comments -I’d love to hear them, especially if you’re one day, doc Doolittle, the absurdist, knuckle pierce, cardboard robot or (some of your handles I can’t remember, but you’re still awesome, I just did a lot of drugs and my memory’s not so good) any of the other really cool people I talked to on here 6months ago.
68 comments
You know you have a real talent at writing. You should write a book and get rich. Damn!
Hey. You’ve made a great turnaround. You have a job now. That’s one step forward which is a great way to get back on the right track. I’m proud of you. Now just keep taking those little steps forward and eventually, you’ll be that one person who can be an inspiration to everyone else who had a tough earlier life. You’ll give them the hope they need to get better each day and become a stronger person. If you end your life with that shotgun you want, you’re gonna deprive the world of that one inspirational story that that kid needs to hear to save his life. You can’t do that. Think how many lives you are going to inspire and save. It’ll make up for your past. I promise. You have a 15 year old looking up to you now. Imagine how many others are going to be pushed to better themselves after they read this. Be strong and take care. Think your options through.
farmerstrong13@hotmail.com
And I believe I saw one day here yesterday…
thanks uttilini, I wrote a couple books: a novel, a few collections of poems, and some art books- didn’t get me rich, except in ‘vocabulary heh he har har
farmerstrong13- my thouroughly thought out opinion is that humanity is a disease on the planet and we’re in a state of overpopulation which is responsable for the majority of human (aswell as many other species) problems. If reading this sick shit gives you hope and makes you want to go out and have a bunch of babies, no ammount of inspiration can make you socially responsable im afraid. when I was 15 I looked up to junkies like me now, and I am pretty much what I aspired to be at 15 and can tell you, being your role model and shit, that it’s totally better and more cool to look up to and aspire to be like someone who’s happy with who they are and what they’re doing in life, then someone who’s so shitty wasted and ungrateful living that they can’t even kill themselves correctly after a half dozen attempts. you can better yourself by appreciating the people you already have in your life, particularly the ones who don’t stab you in the back even when they have a chance to, and the ones who are at least gentle about it when they do. everyone’s going to fuck you over eventually, but it’s who you’d forgive of THOSE people that you ought to be showing affection toward- not strangers on the internet.
sorry if I came off as patronizing, but you kindof asked for it.
I actually read the whole thing
Hello. I’m glad to see you around, you were always an interesting one. And actually a bit flattered that you would remember me! Umm, so sounds like you’ve been busy. Jack kerouac would be jealous. And good to see you put a creative slant on your enterprising nature with the haunted objects. I am tempted to go on ebay and check it out. Do you sell haunted underwear strong enough to resurrect a dead sex life?
I think I know about this woman C you speak of who was planning to buy a gun in the US. I never spoke personally to her, but I saw her pop up kinda recently (I thought she offed months ago) and I wanted her to contact me because, as serendipity has it, I am actually in her home town right now. Basically I am visiting the UK because one of my best friends has been going through some tough times also, well I thought, misery loves company! Its tough… seeing someone you love going through hard times. But it’s wonderful to be with my friend again.
Also, the Absurdist and I have been in email contact for a long time, but he left SP… decided it wasn’t helping. He is also going to pop up from paris for the weekend, so I will meet him and give your regards. I think it will mean something to him. He’s always so convinced that he’s an utterly unmemorable person, always shocked to have impact.
About the girl… ah. Well you obviously have a tough time getting over her, I find the easiest way to get over someone is to completely resent and villainise them so here goes… what she did was not fair. String you along and then back away. Experience tells me that people do this when they are feeling low, and they want someone faithful to jack up their self esteem, but once its up, that person becomes expendable. I hope you find a nicer (or at least, a less weak) one.
I know heroin screws with your memory, but do you know… are these effects long term? Is it permanent damage?
Feel free to email me if you’d like. Also, if you ever need someone to talk to about going through withdrawal or relapse, I can be a sounding board. I don’t judge.
You’re fine, man. Take it easy.
Farmerstrong have you seen Qwerty here lately. couple days?, if not then i think he wont be coming back. dont know though,
The mis-adventures of a degenerate character who rivals Bukowski’s inability to conform to life in modern society; a protagonist in the tradition of a drug addled Burroughs & H.S. Thompson.
Very nice. You remind me of a lot of friends I’ve had. The tortured artist types, the consummate fuck ups who fail rehab 10-15 times, and relapse on the day they’re discharged/kicked out/hop the fence. They’re still infinitely more interesting to hang around with than 9-5ers, which I suppose is the reason why they were/are my friends. Hardly ever a dull moment.
Anyways, thanks.
@Attila, no… I believe you were the one that might have told everyone to email him. If so, I did and got no response…
one_day- good to see you’re still around! how could I forget one of the only women who ever had an intelligent arument with me? you’re awsome! the absurdist actually lives in paris? right on- I figured he was just a nerdy american that read old french novels- yeah, he was memorable. We should sell haunted underwear that ressurects your dead sex life, it only works on people actually willing to fuck you in the first place- in that first impression 1/3 second unconscious judgement, if you get a thumbs up- they’l just sortof smell something happy in the air and have to talk to you, you get a chance at least and can fuck it up from there, but you get a chance. I also have a mystical haunted penis that might do that if you’re ever in chicago. this is what we sold, but were changing stores so all that’s left on this one (of the good stuff) is a haunted cigar box with 3 really rare hard to find 1st edition ghosts, this is my masterpiece thus far: http://www.ebay.com/itm/150631354771?ssPageName=STRK%3AMESOX%3AIT&_trksid=p3984.m1562.l2649
if you find C, let me know if she’s alive. as far as I can tell, your insights on my ex are spot on. heroin screws with a lot of things. they should pay you for what you do. thanks.
good to see you lucy4- I thought you went away to live with the rainbow family on a hippie farm or something? bukowski thompson and burroughs are the aforementioned people I looked up to when I was 15, that’s a high compliment
thanks duke
I read it all to you are definatly an interesting character i know a few people like you and life is never boring you could write a damn good book hell id pay money to read it i did rehab but i was so annoying(manic)they let me out early cos i refused the nut house…
hey TLC; I lasted at the hippy place for 36 hours. Sold my house, the business, my car, the 2nd motorcycle…whittled my possessions down to what would fit on my one motorcycle.
It turns out the hippy’s hold a dim view on alcohol, cigarettes and carnivorism. So now I’m in San Francisco.
I figured you would take my comment as a compliment (the intended affect). Only a fan of them 3 wouldn’t be offended being called a degenerate. Glad you’re still around.
fuckin hippies.
Well, at least they don’t waste money on soap. Patchouli seems to be a far wiser investment. Plus, girls shaving armpits. WTF?
@TLC would you please put your mystical haunted penis on ebay. I am a big believer in try before I buy, but given that is geographically difficult, I’d at least like to see some reviews. It’s annoying, I wish I’d found this site earlier when I was living in new york, because back then it would have been so easy to wonder down to the freeway and stick my thumb out and place a face to all these names. The sushi in San fran that Lucy is going to treat me to will be worth the ride itself. As it stands, living down under, feels very isolated. The Absurdist grew up part in south america and part in spain, but moved in with his friend in paris when he went broke. I love paris, but he despises it. I wonder how someone who’s favourite artist is Magritte could NOT at least see the art galleries as one of the perks of paris…
I doubt I will hear from C (actually I don’t even know her name). She posted a while ago asking for OD advice, I replied that I was coming to visit her home town and she should contact me if she wants a coffee but she never replied. Probably freaked out – we were never in personal contact.
In reply to ‘paying me for what I do’… firstly.. thanks! And actually that is the direction I am heading. I am going back to school this year to study social work. Basically I go tsick of funding my art projects with advertising (a horrible horrible field) and have worked out a plan – get qualified as a social worker, which opens up my visa options, work part time as a social worker and still do a bit of film freelance. It was kind of an impulsive plan, I’ll let you know if it pans out.
@lucy, was that hippie commune that thing that X-Boy is always posting about? I hope your not in any way cut about it. Despite being vegan and currently trying a raw food diet, I hate hippies. Stupid easily lead sheep, all they did was take drugs and spread HIV. Were they all like ‘welcome everyone!’ … until they found out you ate meat? Pft. Hypocirts.
@ one_day; I believe I was the first person to mention intentional communities on here. Not that I need credit or validation for it, but I was researching alternatives on the web. House sitting (allover the world), IC’s, joining the merchant marines, becoming a gypsy, becoming a Buddhist monk, going to a survivalist camp to learn how to live off the land, all kinds of crazy shit. Anything to get out of the rat race once and for all.
The hippys were OK except for the hand holding & singing. I can’t get into standing around in a circle, holding hands, and singing songs of joy. My preference for bathing daily also didn’t mesh with their, uh, casual approach to hygiene.
Can you do me favor? Tell the Absurdist that the Charioteer says hello. Gracias
@lucy oh right, I didn;t see that sorry, I just saw X-boy posting a LOT about it. It did sound really cool, but the one thing that didn’t quite click was… well, it’s just another society in miniture, isn’t it? With it’s own set of prejudice and bias, different, but still prejudice and bias all the same. I don’t know to be honest, didn’t look too deeply into it.
Housesitting all over the world is good, you can check out couchsurfing.org for kicks (it’s become very mainstream now, but back in the day it was cool.) Don’t recomend becoming a gypsy… they are scary… the bhuddist thing is an option, but, well you might need to adjust your spiritual values.
I’ll pass your message to the Absurdist. As we speak he is on overnight coach crossing the english channel. It’s crazy how blind to the impact he had here he was. I have a lot of greetings to pass on to him.
@ one_day; You’re right about the miniature society part, but what I liked about them was that they’ve chosen to reject the greedy, wasteful, self-serving “me first” attitude that seems to be the norm in the western world.
There’s going to be politics and drama whenever you live with other people. There will be power struggles, disagreements, etc. If one chooses to live alone, like on an island or in the wilderness somewhere, you could cut out all conflict with other humans. But that seems kinda lonely. So I guess the trick is trying to find like minded people to live with.
@one day fab news youll make a great social worker sure you dont want to be a psychologist??
@molly thanks! Actually initially I was more interested in psychology.. chosing between the two was hard. In the end I chose social work because I thought there was a greater need for it… the high pay and status of psychology already attracts a lot of talent already, but I think the field of social work is more important, but doesn’t attract much talent because of the low pay. But then the other B=plan, is that if I get bored of social work (it happens… I get bored a lot), I could go back to school for psychology.
@lucy right on. And there are like minded people out there, just takes a lot of digging to find them. And usually they are really fucked up from having to conform to this society, so you find them on sad places like this site…
your guys thread on intentonal communities was actually what motivated me to create an account on SP. I had a feeling it was going to go in a Jim Jones direction and it intrigued me. I’ve been obsessed with communes and ICs for years- the idea of ressurecting the family socital structure, living off grid with solar/wind/water power generators. I’m terribly interested in the philosophical ideas that were used to justify and further the nazi movement- in particular GI Gurdjieff and Fredrick Nietzche (with his idea of the Superman). My theory is that the whole notion of concentration camps came about as a bastardized and corrupted version of GI Gurdjieff’s esoteric schools- many of which centered around the spiritual merit of exhaustive manual labor as a means to harmonize the intellectual, emotional, and physical ‘brains’ of people that are said to be working lobsidedly in the average fragmented human biological machine. Gurdjieff’s 4th way is a combination of what he called the 3 ways to transcend the perceptual prison of brainwashed sleep that we are all said to be in (namely the way of the monk, the yogi, and the fakir). I think Victor Frankl’s ‘mans search for meaning’ is probly the best evidence you could reference to make that point, it’s 14 years memoirs written by a jew in Aushwitz during the holocost, in which he describes, in rather graphic detail, the breaking down of his psyche leading to some sort of metaphysical awakening. The holocost was undeniably fucked up and wrong, but I think it (along with Jonestown, the manson family, and other attempts at communism done TO and AT people on a massive political scale (rather than something chosen by them and done on a smaller ‘family sized’ scale) as seen in russia, korea, and other countries) really put a nasty stigma on a lot of really valid information and made a lot of people ‘throw the baby out with the bathwater’ as it were.
I used to be in the Rainbow Family (another corrupt organization in decay because of poor leadership and organizational flops) and we had about 5 warehouses and 4 public gardens run as coops. we would collect supplies from dumpsters and junk yards and store them, bring them out to the land and recycle it using what we could to build barns, greenhouses, hydroponic troths, fences, whatever we needed. I didn’t see that particular project through to its completion, but I learned a lot of practical information about constructing and organizing an intentional community.
My friend and I have about 4acres of land, and we’re thinking of starting an intentional community loosely based on 4th way ideas. We’re both on EBT foodstamps but plan on growing our own food. I’m a vegan, and he’s a carnivore that eats Mcdonalds burgers and cheetos. Were going to start with sheds (the kind you can get at the hardware store for about 2000$) and we’re going to build a sort of fort village from there out of what we can find. It’s going to be all off grid. our biggest problem right now is lack of funding- we’re very paranoid about who has a hand in our community and needless to say don’t want some banker asshole to screw us from under with some contract loophole after we put our blood, sweat, and tears into building it. There will be no hand holding or kumbiah singing of any sort, we’re both gutter punks so the closest thing I can think of might be initiation rituals involving duct taping 2 40oz beer bottles to both your hands and making you drink them both in one sitting- sortof a twist on Gurdjieff’s ‘toast to the idiot’ Edward 40 hands.
@one_day- I don’t know where I’d get reviews for my mystical haunted penis- my ex feonce might say good things, since as far as I can tell that’s all she kept me around for- you might be surprised to hear I’m not really into debauchery, so there wouldn’t be that many potential reviewers to begin with, plus it’s not really for sale, so I don’t know if ebay would let me post it- I could make you a haunted rubber replica to try out, or take a photo perhaps? you don’t have to buy it- you just have to let me sleep on your couch and cook you breakfast and give you back rubs and shit -you’re in the advertizing industry?! I see.. so you’re a penitent of sorts- that’s admirable. I met a ton of social workers that should have been in advertizing, but never someone in advertizing that should have been in social work. good luck with that.
‘the spiritual merit of exhaustive manual labor as a means to harmonize the intellectual, emotional, and physical ‘brains’ of people’ Well, isn’t that what the rat race does to subdue that masses inquisitive nature and keep the masses in their place? At the same time, ‘spiritual awakening’ does the same thing… ‘enlightened’ monks sure aren’t the most proactive when it comes to rectifying the world’s evils. Let me know if you get your IC underway, it sounds way cooler than the one Lucy checked out. But I would fail your initiation. Unless you replaced the beer with LSD. Backrubs and breakfast? Ha! I suppose you’ll want to talk about your feelings as well? (speaking of which, this is an american comedian I kinda dig, it might be pertinant: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BlmWvITXVzQ)
Umm… I’m not really in advertising. But that industry is where a lot of my income comes from. I am a video editor but above all, a story teller. Problem is, as an editor my income comes from advertising and TV and I do the storytelling bit on the side for free. used to be happy with that, but at some point my conscience caught up with me.
Part of the reason I was interested in social work was because me friend is one, and she says most of them are hardcore christians who use their position to peddle their beliefs onto vulnerable people. I’d be interested to know your experiences with them?
Nah- the rat race forces people into deeper sleep by making it so they can barely perform their job function while not being at all present with either other brain- the one who wins the rat race is someone who’s mastered the art of daydreaming while working- they work in a state of sleep blissed out in their own mental processes- it’s the easiest way to keep from going crazy in the monotony of it all. what you said about monks is true- they’re entirely lobsided and live in only one brain center. a monk is not equipped to deal with life- their training is all done in an an artificial space designed to remove every chaotic worldly stimulus so that they can be completely self absorbed. meditation is rightfully called a practice because it’s like riding a bike with training wheels the real work is mentation- self observation in the midst of functioning ‘normally’ ‘rectifying the worlds evils’ doing your to do. Quality improvement is the purpose- not personal amusement. It’s that superhuman omnipresence you get coming down on acid where you function more effectively as opposed to coming up where you’re disoriented- catalyzation is what the monks and yogis and fakirs are striving for, but they do it wrong. Taking acid you probly know there’s some things you can learn to do that make you better at doing everything you do- or maybe not- I know I’ve found things like that. that old saying ‘how you do anything- that’s how you do everything.
If you can drink 80 fluid oz of LSD and keep your head, you’re totally welcome in.
Hey, you’re the one who wants to go into social work- don’t you somewhat get off on listening to people talk about their feelings? sure, I’ll be a lab rat/case study, sure.
I’ll check out the link later, I got to go back to work…
Precisely, the avaricious values that afflict society is the model by which those subjugated by their work fail and the monks that you analogously refer to escape by taking pride in their work. Or is ignorance really bliss?
@duke- monks don’t work. monks pray and meditate. ignorance is really bliss, but misunderstanding makes people miserable. the happiest people I know are also the smartest people I know, so.. I don’t think monks really escape from anything, even if they stay in the monestary their entire lives, they’re still compromising something, and they’re still subject to the same misery anyone who goes without faces- they just maybe take it in a different order or in heavier doses. monks don’t escape work, they escape one disease by taking another.
@one day- thats hilarious. pertinant-yea, I get it.. but um.. actually my feelings are completely original and unique and unlike those of anyone you’ve ever talked to- I feel things on an alien spectrum that are totally mindblowing and shit.. this one time I got so pissed off I wanted to die! I had a fling with this one girl who’d invite me over when her boyfriend went to work so we could sit in bed and go through her highschool yearbook and name everyone, I was so relieved when she got to the end of it, only to have her pull out 2 more and when she was done proceeded to her facebook and named everyone there too. I bet her boyfriend was honest like “I don’t give a shit about what your aunt does for a living and why, I just want to fuck- oh she’s a seamstress-great!” some people aren’t aware that their lives are boring as hell to begin with and on top of it they suck at storytelling.
with social workers? I’ve been through more social workers in my teens than most people have been to the doctor- yeah, most are puritanical ‘post modernist’ under cover christians trying to sell their mediocre self help books. just remember that your philosophy is your philosophy and your personal annalogies are your personal annalogies and they mean something to YOU and are not proverbial 90% of the time and there are some neurotic patients that have read more psychology texts trying to fix themselves than you have- that’s where most of them go wrong, they become crusaders or gurus who think it’s a disease to disagree with them. it’s shit like this: http://www.foxnews.com/health/2012/02/09/shyness-illness-in-dangerous-health-book-experts-say/ that’s wrong with psychiatric philosophy in general. it’s philosophy, not science, there’s nothing objective about it except that a bunch of people with a bunch of money and an adjenda agree with eachother and sell a lot of books. I think if you’re going to go that way, do it outright and be a guru, don’t subliminalize your message and prey on the weakminded, streight up write a bible, start a cult and create a religion. I think you’ll make a fine social worker if you keep that in mind.
Maybe, but im to sozzled to think of a convincing response. I can barely for coherent words.
Catch you later.
I see where you’re coming from, philosophy not science, but I believe it’s more a grey area… strong elements of both exist and work in unison, so I don’t believe it’s helpful trying to catorgorise or even having this discussion, because at the end of the day it doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is: what is going to help treat the person? Now, personally, I find being able to rationalise my emotional reactions to be very helpful, allowing me to understand and therefore overcome problems, so I find objective hard sciences very useful. But at the same time, I know a lot of people just aren’t wired that way, and the trick if finding the right medicine to treat the patient, not just the one that fits the symptoms. That article was quite disturbing, though.
You lie abut the girl. No way anyone is such a charicature… and even if so… no way anyone would put up with it!
ok take it easy I’m off to get the Absurdist from the coach terminal. He’s freaking out a bit, but too late to have second thoughts. I’m actually a bit cut… not like I’m that scary or anything!
You sell yourself short. You are Extremely Scary!!
one day- I don’t think you’re scary.. dont you know I only beat you cas I love you? no shit about the girl, she actually did that but I didn’t put up with it for very long- she had some other issues that were way more dispickable, not to mention she was awful in bed- it turns out I was just one of dozens of men she did the same thing to. I’m still good friends with her old roomate.
I got a lot of resect for you and I think you come off as a really genuine person wih a good heart. Your poetry is amazing, and you’re a great storyteller. I didn’t mean the guru bit as a slam, I’m actually a proponent of the guru tradition- I don’t think any one guru or cult has it right, but I find a lot more truth in the esoteric circles than in psychology, religion, philosophy, and science. I say that because it’s what I found helpful, having been through all sorts of treatments and books- I think a lot of good could come out of implimenting a brauder, more objective, and more informed spiritual outlet in treating mental patients. I think the christians have really hurt just as many people as they’ve helped with their altruism- if you aren’t a christian, and you’re a drug addict for instance, rehab is not going to help you. all they do in rehab is teach you how to go to AA and NA meetings, and AA and NA are heavily juedo-christian undertoned religious organizations that propose ‘spiritual awakening’ as a cure to mental illness.
I think rationalizing your emotions is a double edged sword- many emotional reactions aren’t logical and rationalizing them in that light is just lying to yourself. Understanding your problems is totally useful. asfar as medacines go- you’re right about not just treating symptoms, but I think the people that could be helped by meds- like schizophrenics for example, who are totally fine as long as they take their pills- they are only a very small part of the population. 50% of the population of ‘neurotic’ people have nothing organically wrong with them, they’re in perfect health and their brains work just fine; just a guess, but I’d say that the the majority of people on this site fit that description. what makes all these beautiful girls who post their pictures on here think they’re ugly and cut and starve themselves and plot their suicides with people online? how do you rationalize the way they feel? I think we’re dealing with a much bigger problem than helping people write down their goals and steps to achieve those goals in a planner is going to solve. I do have a lot of contempt for psych professionals in general, but I have met a handful of good ones- not good in that they actually helped me, but good in their motives, people with good hearts who really did help a lot of people and really were very smart- good friends. I think thats what people need more than anything- and it’s so hard to find a good friend. that’s all a psychiatrist or a social worker really is- someone you pay to act like a friend.
I wrote poetry?
Hello one_day; How’s your visit across the pond been so far?
You seem like people who know stuff so…
I have been hypothesising the significance of life on Earth for some time. Take this post for example. If the moderators deleted it or the website became defunct one could not argue that the original poster and those who contributed were insignificant even if it was their sole contribution to the universe, a defining moment that some might argue although not very significant, significant nonetheless. This is because the mere act has been observed by many and shaped the lives of those who have been kindly bestowed with it’s wisdom. But what if all of those who viewed or contributed to it were struck down by some sort of tragic death immediately afterwards. The question would not be whether we were important but whether we lived at all; because surely for anything to truly exist there must be a permanent record of it’s existence.
I accept that within the peramaters of physics, particles exist but they don’t talk. If the eventual fate of the planet is to be completely obliterated in about 4.5 billion years when the suns maximum radius expands beyond our orbit then it’s entire history will be rendered superfluous. If we discount the supernatural, parallel universes and some aspects of quantum mechanics as either complete nonsense or irrelevant in the context of this question then our very existence does not appear to have any purpose at all. Arguably we never existed.
We go about our daily lives, work, take part in things we find remotely interesting like discussing topics on websites about suicide because they fill some sort of void in our lives and give us a sense of purpose. But if there is in fact no purpose to anything, I ask, what is the point in living at all?
@RLC I disagree that rehab can’t help you if you’re not christian. I have a few friends who went through rehab and all it does is provide a temptation free environment. Religion doesn’t factor into it. Although It might be different in the states, I don’t know anyone who went through rehab there.
I also disagree that emotions aren’t logical. I believe they are ENTIRELY logical. Basically emotions are simply behaviours that are learned so early on in childhood that they become second nature, instant reactions, and we forget that there was a logical reason for it in the first place.
‘what makes all these beautiful girls who post their pictures on here think they’re ugly and cut and starve themselves and plot their suicides with people online? how do you rationalize the way they feel?’ – Ah, this one is too easy. No one who posts their picture online really thinks they are ugly. Mostly they are just insecure, looking for affirmation. Given the pressure that society puts on women and how they look externally, this is ENTIRELY rational that anyone who doesn’t look like a supermodel would feel inadequate. Virginia said something along the lines of: Insanity is an entirely sane reaction to an insane world.
Also disagree that a psych is someone you pay to act like a friend… although you have more experience here… I always thought the point of a psych was an objective opinion.
Seriously, I wrote poetry? I think you have me confused with someone else.
@lucy, it’s been grand thankyou. Bit cold though. And especially pissed off today because I just got missed a 3rd job because I am away for these 3 weeks… typically I bum around for 3 weeks with no work and then as soon as I leave everyone wants to book me. Especially annoying that it was one of the top post houses in sydney as well, so it might have put me in touch with some very talented directers. Sigh. Hopefully they will call back.. But yes mostly I have been bumming around doing nothing just being with my friend. she is talking about converting the cupboard under the stairs into a room so I can stay longer, but I don’t think it will work since I’m not japanese.
@Duke, your query boils down to one simple thing… how do you define ‘signifficance’? Do you define it externally (how many others witness the event) or is it internal or intrinsic? Persoannly, my feeling is that there comes a point where hypotheticals cease to matter. This thread exists, as do we, therefore it is signifficant, and I don’t believe it timeworthy to ponder the stability of that signifficance in a hypothetical situation which is, at this point, fairly unlikely to occur.
@ one_day- yeah, I remember you wrote a poem about cancer cells when I was on here a few months ago, it was really good and I commented on it and then we had the aforementioned intelligent argument.
@duke- existance is impossible to prove or deny. I mean, if you observe a dream you had, you can remember specific details of it, specific people and their features, maybe even what they said, but you can’t prove it exists or happened to anyone but yourself (unless youre sharing dreams, and thats a whole nother can of worms that gets into the topography of parallel worlds and ext. and I’m not going there just yet). whats generally thought to validate existance is having other people confirm and agree with certian details of things that happen. Nothing is perminent, even these posts- one day everything will atrophy, be erased and forgotten. I think theres a point in living if you’re having fun- based solely on hedonistic logic. if you aren’t having fun and you’re suffering and deem your suffering to be all for naught.. there’s probly no reason to be alive- unless you’re purpose for being alive is to seek out purpose or fun. I think you’d really dig heidigger (the philosopher)- he wrote a lot about what you’re talking about. the whole -if there’s a coffee cup on a table, how can you prove that the other side of the cup you can’t see exists. electrons are very interesting because they’ve proven that they go in and out of existance at any given time, and also torn the classc ‘planetary orbit’ looking model of atoms to shreds- electrons look more like a probability cloud than a planetary model, and it’s impossible to tell where they are exactly even if you use a really fast camera- cause once you take a picture of it, it isn’t in the same place. Personaly, I’ve always thought of the question of weather or not we exist to be an absurdity- we appear to exist, and that’s good enough for most people to sleep comfortably. now, weather or not our existance has meaning is an entirely different story. Thats the whole crux of existentialist thought: existence proceeds essence. the ‘meaning’ of life is said to at best be subjective. you might also like Albert Camus’ ‘the myth of sysiphus’ which starts out with the famous statement along the lines of ‘weather or not to kill onesself is the greatest of all philisophical questions’. Camus is a self proclaimed ‘Absurdist’ and an agnostic who believes that life is absurd and meaningless-and if there is meaning to it, that meaning is utterly incomprehensable to human beings- his theory is that all suffering results from people searching for (and failing to find/misunderstanding) meaning in their absurd lives and proposes that acceptance (of the absurdity) is the answer to/cause of happiness. does something have to be perminent to have existance? I think not- even a record of such a thing doesn’t neccisarily validate its existance either way- there are thousands of records of dragons and unicorns, yet they’re still considered by the mass population ‘non-existant,’ yet they sortof do exist in a sense, since everyone of us can visualize a unicorn and a dragon. if you find the point to living at all, I suggest you write a book and start a cult. I personally think hedonism, curiosity, and altruism are good places to start, but obviously they aren’t cure alls.
@ one day- ‘objective opinion’ is an absurdity, an opinion is a subjective statement. Yeah, rehab provides a temptation free environment- but it’s along the same lines as what we talked about with the monks- it doesnt cure anything. It’s impossible to stop a habit, it will just come out in another form of addictive behavior- like the compulsive gamblers who start drinking, or turn to permiscuity- I think whats missing is ‘healthy’ or at least socially acceptable addictive habits- like workaholism which is totally unhealthy, but generally never frowned upon. Insanity is an entirely sane reaction to an insane world.. I like that. yeah, you wrote at least one poem. I know it was you.
Ah ok, I guess I would call it prose, not poetry… I find modern poetry kind of a redundant medium, which is now only relevant to music in the form of song lyrics…
You’re right that addiction simply needs a new outlet than drugs… but I think that IS what some rehab clinics do. My flatmate was in a clinic for about 3 months and what I noticed is that he is now REALLY anal around the house… gets upset if the dishes are done properly or if the clothes are hung on the line straight, or if thegarbage bin is not put back in the right place. What happened in rehab is that they were trained with a very strict system of dialy routine, giving structure to their lives and taking their mind off the addiction, and now that strict order is associated with ‘getting better’. If you take that order away, their world falls apart. So I guess, what his clinic did, was replace drug addiction with domestic OCD
all addiction is an OCD, the form of it changes with some people who ‘recover.’
@ TLC; Have you ever tried Ayahuasca? It’s a hallucinogenic from the Amazon rainforest that makes LSD seem like candy. A good friend of mine flew to Peru, hung around with witch doctors, and drank the sludgy brew.
She remembers (allegedly) her time *before* being born. She remembers fighting the process of being born. Her mom was in labor for 33 hours, and this girl did not want to leave the warmth of the womb, and begin participating in the “reality” of life. There’s many other insights she picked up during her experience, but I’m not going to list them all right now. It would be an hour long conversation.
Burroughs also tried this stuff back in the 1950’s.
I ask because you seem like a bit of a psychonaut. An explorer of the mind, somebody who’s willing to dig deeply into the uncharted territory of his/her own psyche, with the aid of mind expanding chemical compounds.
It’s on my list of stuff I plan to do before I die. There’s plenty of great testimonials on a site called “Erowid”.
I’m familiar with ayahuasca, never actually tried it. the closest I’ve tried is 5-meo-dmt (I had a bufu alvarius named Horus) and dmt. I’m also familiar with erowid.org. There’s a pretty good site called bouncingbearbotanicals that you can order everything you need to cook ayahuasca (and a lot of other legal and ‘barely legal ethnobotanicals), but from what I’ve been told the stuff needs to be prepaired in a certian way by a shaman or it wont work like it’s supposed to- something about the rythm you chop the bark at and order you do it in- it sounds strange, but I know at a lot of esoteric schools they prepare all food in a certain ‘alchemical’ ritual- it has to be done in a very specific way, at a very specific time, place and order- and done in this way food that is chemically and organically not dissimilar to ordinary food prepared how any average joe could turns into a higher substance. There’s a great book I’d highly reccommend you checkout called ‘The American Book of the Dead” by EJ Gold that’s all about the bardos and is basically a guide to conscious dying that guides you through the 49 chambers of the bardos and (alledgedly) teaches you how to escape rebirth. It gave me a lot of ‘hey..I’ve been here before’/trippy deja vu moments reading it- I have a lot of dreams in the bardos (a lot of people do without realizing it), and it helps me sortof figure out where I am and where to go in the labyrinth at times. and if you’re as moved by the ABD as I was, there’s a school in Grass Valley CA (I’m not sure how far away from there you live) that I’ve always wanted to vist.
Mm. Shit morphine
you nodding out over there one_day?
Hey thanks. I just read about G.I. Gurdjieff & the 4rth way. Good stuff, much of it resonates with me.
I’ve also been experimenting with dreams for about the past year or so. Before I fall asleep at night, the last thing I think is “remember your dreams. Wake up after you have a dream that might be relevant or signifigant”. I don’t necessarily believe in any higher power, I just throw this little “prayer” out to the universe.
It’s been working. I remember many of my dreams now, although they’re often pretty whacked out, and nearly impossible to interpret/analyze.
That deja vu thing: It’s weird, sometimes I’ll be thinking about somebody, and a split second later the phone will ring. It’ll be the person I was just thinking about calling me. Or I’ll pick up my phone to call a particular person, and before I can dial the phone is ringing. The incoming call will be from the person I was about to call.
My sister and I used to know who would be calling our house a nano second before the phone actually rang. (This was when we were kids).
I don’t claim to have any psychic powers, but I have always been interested in the idea that humans have undeveloped, latent abilities that haven’t yet been actualized.
The “higher power” isn’t some external god who lives in outer space, it’s something internal that resides within us. The trick is trying to access the “god” that is buried and forgotten within.
This search is also what prompted me to embark on my own little psychonaut journey. I want to see what’s behind the curtain. What is really going on here?
After all is said & done though, I can’t really prove or “know” what is real, and what is just another belief. The only meaning to life is what you, the individual, consider to be important to you. So the meaning would differ from person to person, since it’s a subjective opinion rather than an objective truth.
So that’s about it. “The search never ends, it goes on for eternity”. <— Greg Graffin
Razor sharp wit still intact.
@Lucy what does it mean when u lose 2 teeth in your dream?
Hmm. I don’t know. A desire to resume breast feeding? hehe. j/k. Did “G” send you a pic?
@lucy got a pic of u but not of g. Apparently it’s worth the wait…
Oh OK. That episode was a product of drunken sincerity on my part. Just wanted to match faces with authors. In the harsh light of sobriety I now realize that asking somebody to reveal themselves on an anonymous site is inappropriate. I felt pretty guilty the next day.
I remember most of my dreams, especially the recurring and primal ones. I keep dreaming my teeth are breaking and falling out for some reason, I think it’s probly because I haven’t been laid in 3 years and I’m doing dope again- anyway lucid dreaming is very cool if you’re disciplined enough to do it- I think of it as practical magick. I’m not big on the whole ceremonial robes and crystal wands hippie shit, but I think there’s something to being able to direct attention with the whole ‘as above so below idea’ put into practice- the more detailed you can get, the better- I started out drawing and then got into sculpture, then I found video game engines (spend 20hours a week playing with one of those and you’ll have some crazy creation-like dreams I promise). doing that I used to create people in my dreams out of vague clouds of aether and light, I kept adding more details and cheracter traits to them and designed environments and situatons for them- I’ve met a few of the people I ‘invented’ or attracted in ‘real’ life.. it’s really amazing when it happens. lately though I’ve had less innocent wonder and more malice with mysticism- I’ve been trying to give my ex bleeding ulcers and dreams where she gets raped by demons and shit; I don’t know if it’s possible but it gives me a sense of personal power which I can’t seem to get elsewhere. I also like to try to stay awake while I fall asleep and sense my identity breaking into all the different people, to try to keep an awareness of my body and all of them at the same time (instead of assuming just one identity within a dream like what normally happens) the trick is to become omnicient.. what helps with that is to get about 7-9 AIM or facebook accounts, and invent different personalities for each of them (i usually have a list of character ‘game rules’ boundaries they can’t step outside of and things they must always do/say), then add as many friends as you can and try to juggle conversations (and modalities) as fast as you can- it really sharpens your character development skills if you write too. I see it all as making art out of my psychosis- I think recovery and progress is a bunch of bullshit and we’re all brainwashed, asleep and insane and no one has an accurate view of ‘reality’. we are all imprisoned in that reality so.. why not fuck shit up- it’s just for fun. I find the gurdjieff people to be a bit stiff about the whole thing, but yeah, there’s a lot of good stuff in the 4th way writings.
@ one_day – you’re loosing your teeth in your dreams too?
@Lucy I don’t think it’s inappropriate. I think it’s just natural human instinct. I don’t think she took it bad. Personally I would be flattered Its a sign of trust
@tlc if u feel the need to seek revenge on your ex please find a less vindictive way.. Find a really hot girlfriend maybe? No one deserves to get raped by demons. Anyway you should be saving those demons for yr eBay store don’t corrupt them with her.
I had a dream where 2 teeth fell out a few days ago. Not the first time. I looked it u apparently it means loss of power or feelings of unattractiveness or agIng. I have bad teeth that I am self conscious about anyway so I don’t know if I need to read too much into it
@ one_day; Right on. So are you saying that you’d be flattered if somebody asked you for your picture, or you’d be flattered if somebody sent you their picture?
@ one_day- agreed, no one deserves to get raped by deons, but she already has dreams that she does, and she also gets ulcers (without my wishing for it) you have to play on what already does/can happen and me getting a really hot girlfriend doesn’t and can’t happen because I don’t want a really hot girlfriend, I want a really smart girlfriend with a sense of humor and a good heart, who’s artistic and cool with me being a derelict (and the two usually don’t mix, all the hot women I’ve met have been mean bitches who think their life is serious or they’re boxes of rocks who don’t think at all, or they want to change me into a ‘normal’ person.. cliche’ I know, but it seems to be true).
I have a dream that all my teeth are falling out, sometimes they break first and sometimes my gums break and fall out also. I have this dream about once a week and it’s been going on for about a year. Loss of teeth is one of Jung’s primal dreams, he says it means loss of power because back in the caveman days if you had no teeth, you couldn’t eat as quickly and would starve and lose power. I don’t know about unattractiveness, cause in my dreams anyway, whenever my teeth fall out I have this very odd sensation that I’m really beautiful when I look in the mirror, my face always looks different, and sometimes my eyes change colors- I had one in this series where I discovered in addition to broken teeth, I had a forked tongue and yellow eyes, and I just stared at myself thinking I was really sexy- but I kindof have a thing for people with missing and broken teeth, I find atrophy (especially dental) attractive.. so maybe it can go either way.. I thought it had something to do with sex cause I stopped giving a shit about my hygiene after she left me, I figured I didn’t have anyone to impress, and I never cared how I look or smell in the first place (unless it’s really really really bad), I just do it for other people.
@ TLC; Mind if I share a recurring dream? It’s about public nudity, but isn’t sexual at all.
In this dream, I’ll be walking down the street, or be in some crowded public place. I’m often wearing shoes, socks, and a shirt, but nothing else. I’m exposed in an indecent, vulnerable sort of way.
The weird part is that nobody notices or says anything. I usually don’t cover up, (unless a relative decides to make a guest appearance in my dream), and none of the fully clothed people alongside me seem to care.
Dream interpreters say this dream means I’m afraid of being found out as a fraud. Or that I’m making a mountain out of a molehill in regards to perceived flaws. I don’t know.
A variation on this dream: I’m backstage at a reggae concert. I’m the dread locked lead singer of the band that’s about to take the stage. I peek out from behind the curtain at the audience. It’s a full house. The lights dim, the curtain parts, and I realize that I can’t sing. I don’t know any of the songs. Hell, I don’t even know who the guys in the band are, or what we’re called. At this point I wake up, safe in my bed, with my heart beating at about 180 thumps per minute.
Those two seem to be the most common recurring themes. The only time that I enjoy these dreams is when I *know* I’m dreaming while it’s happening. Then the dream usually takes an abrupt turn; the location, scenery, and scenario all change.
Kooky, huh?
They both seem to have the same emotional theme to them- vulnerability/embarrassment, like a fear of angry/critical mobs. Public nudity is also a primal dream Jung talked about- I forgot what he said about it though.
I used to be in a dream group that was a lot of fun. Every week we would meet and sit in a circle. We had this blue/greenish stone that we’d pass around; one person would hold the stone and share their dream and then pass the stone to the next person who could only talk about the 1’st person’s dream- it was less about interpreting it psychologically, and more about what sorts of details they could add to it- like certian colors, feelings, images they might be able to see that the other person(who had the dream in the 1st place) couldn’t or forgot. it was a really interesting group but we didn’t have enough to pay rent at the meeting place so it ended. I’ve been looking for another group , but haven’t been able to find one.. I wonder if it would work online if we did it like a blog..
Yeah sure, I’m down with that. I was reading how today would’ve been Kurt Cobain’s 45th birthday. 2/20/67-4/5/94. Other dead people who were born this week:
Bradley Nowell, singer/guitarist from Sublime. 2/22/68-5/25/96. Heroin OD.
Mitch Hedberg, comedian. 2/24/68-3/30/05. Heroin & coke.
Johhny Cash. 2/26/32-9/12/03. Not sure of his cause of death.
It’s morbid. My B-day is this week, so I was inspired to research how other Pisces have died. Not that I’m all into astrology, just checking it out.
Dream Group. Ha they would have really got off on some of my dreams. The other day I dealt I was in a building and had to move from room to room because each time it would disentegrate into nothingness until the space became more and more confined until eventually the same thing happened to me. Just before a realised my fate I sparked up a cigar. From beginning to end I knew what my fate would be but I still tried to escape. That’s fucked huh. A bit like being on this site.
Analyse that shit.
Anyway, peace out.
PS I prefer strawberries
Like your escapades i am going to leave the pub mashed and with more money than I went in after hustling these clowns on the pool table.
My cue works so I don’t have to
@ Lucy4, how would we do it? just start another wordpress site like SP? thats crazy, you were born in a week of tortured junkie guitarists- maybe you should get some white powders and a big amp.
@magento- your dream sortof reminds me of this 90’s movie ‘the cube’ they made a sequel called hypercube and another one called cube zero I think- you should check it out. good luck sharking.. don’t scratch.
@ cherries they spotted me right off the bat. No one would play me for money
PS Im also known as Duke of Marmalade
@tlc; I’m not really sure how we’d get the Dream Project up & running. I’m not all that tech savvy.
@Magneto; Hello sweetheart. What, you don’t want to talk to me anymore since you found out I’m not a grrl? hehe. It was an understandable mistake. Sorry if my user name makes me come off as a cyber transvestite. It’s not your fault, precious.
It’s not that Lucy4
I just don’t know what people are like sometimes plus I’m a real fuck up despite my burgeoning credentials.
I sometimes wonder whether it is me or them but often conclude it is infant them. I was always thankful not to be blighted by mediocracy but in recent times my poor performances have gotten me down along with or emanating from an underlying mental health condition which up until now no one has ever been able to diagnose, least of all me.
People say I am weird and suprisibgly no one wants to know a weirdo. So when I walk into the office (the few times I am sober or turn up at all) I wonder whether I should conform to the office etiquette. E.g when someone asks me how I am confirm my wellbeing in a confident yet assured manner before asking the same question in response before offering to make everyone a warm beverages or should I interpret the thinly veiled attempt at trying to manipulated me in the manner it was intended and just tell them to fuck off. Someone told me it was called politeness so forgive me if I was rude. Perhaps as Cherries pointed out I have just gone crazy by the monotony of it all.
@ Magneto; Weirdos are infinitely more interesting than your garden variety “normal” person. You weren’t the slightest bit rude to me, so please don’t beat yourself up, or feel self-conscious about it. I was just messing with you in that earlier comment.
You’re fine, dude, no worries.
I didn’t think so. People are over-sympathetic on this site because for some people minor misunderstandings (flawed misconceptions of the inherently flawed) can be blown out of all proportion. I actually know what’s going on sometimes I just choose not to and it is a choice not a random misconception. I’m fine I’ve had my daily medicine, a variety of intoxicants which boost my will to live. I was in serious trouble yesterday though which begs the question why one would look for solace, compassion if you will on a site where the general population have the inability to care for themselves let alone anything else. The doctor appearsto have now become the patient but I wonder what they will prescribe me this time. More booze pleeeeeeze.
drink until your problems go away! drink until they do not want to stay! drink until you do not know your name! drink until you’ll never be the same!
But what if you didn’t know your name to begin with. I hope that strategy works in reverse. A sort of drinking paradox.
@lucy – it is not neccesarily about asking for a picture or sending a picture… it’s about what that act symbolises. To me, it symbolises a kind of trust or invitation to trust. So yes, I might be flattered if someone sent me a picture because it implies a kind of trust. On the other hand, sometimes people have very different intentions. So it all gets down to case by case situation.
I don’t remember my dreams very often. I have dreams of teeth falling out sometimes, (maybe once a year) same as falling dreams (a few times a year). I general, I don’t remember my dreams.
@one_day; Ok. Thanks. My intent was matching faces with names. Sort of like wondering what a radio DJ looks like. (Often a disappointing discovery).