I don’t even..

You wake up only to realize you are still asleep.

Dreaming still, you rise. Sleep walking within a dream, you get up but eventually only go back to sleep, only to wake up. At this point unsure if you are awake or if you have woken up in another dream.

You could have swore you were awake; until the room the around you dissipates into nothing. It fades slowly leaving a defined geometric wire grid over an empty silhouette which is neither black nor white nor gray.  You look down to realize you have also vanished. Unsure of how you are able to see any of this, you wait patiently, unable to feel any sense of amazement or overwhelm.

The wire grid now dissipates and you forget you are looking at anything. You forget that you are anything, because you aren’t and you slowly stop existing. You would think that you died if you could comprehend what that meant at this point.

A sound can be heard, emanating from seemingly no direction nor source. The nature of which is impossible to describe. Your not even sure whether you heard it or merely thought it. Your not sure if your able to think. You feel a sense of understanding but no words arise from anywhere.

In a flash of neon colored light which cannot be described as being any distinct color or combination of which, you find yourself back in bed. Still asleep, unable to move. Looking over yourself like the camera in a third person video game. You watch yourself begin to wake, as you do the world begins dissolving and your perspective is reoriented to the first person.

You puke, drink some water, brush your teeth and crawl back into bed. Your almost entirely convinced your about to die, when you wake up on your friends couch. The room you were in previously you now realize was a place you have no memory of ever being in real life. Not bothering to explain anything you get up and leave without saying a word.

Das Ende.

 

 

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On Anxiety and ‘Meta-Worry’

“People worry, what are they worrying about today?” -Violent femmes

Today I wanna talk about something which has been a central theme in my life for quite some time; that being anxiety.

If there are any solid regrets in my life (there are a plethora of semi-regrets which sit in the gray area of my Ethical/moral compass.) it’s the amount of time I’ve wasted and number of times I’ve embarrassed myself as a result of various states of anxiety or panic.

Even more profoundly disrupting is a state which I have become quite familiar with and dub ‘meta-worry’ which I would describe as a state of worry which revolves around a state of worry, its frequency of occurrence, and or what one ought or ought not be worried about.

One could see meta worry as the negative side of meta cognition which is defined as the psychological process of thinking about thought itself.

I’m sure there’s already a word out there for the phenomenon (besides the broad term of ‘thought-loop’) but I have yet to see one during my quite limited armchair research of psychology.

I should probably state that my understanding stems more from personal experience with mental illness cross referenced by conversations with certain friends and peers about their respective experience.

Most of us understand that worry and panic are counterproductive to maintaining good mental health and increasing the odds of desired outcome (or lack thereof). This however doesn’t seem to make it any easier when faced with acute states of anxiety and panic.

Some of us spend so much time in perpetual worry, that when we don’t have anything to be worried about we don’t quite get the memo. This for me has been a primary trigger of what I described as meta-worry.

It often start with getting worried that you aren’t worried, or worse contriving a false perception that perpetual worry is an asset or a virtue(possibly because of an inability to distinguish between worry and care as I’ve heard it described.) So whether intentionally or not, one begins inventing unnecessary or even unheard of reasons for themselves to be in a tizzy.

It’s quite a curious experience really, by the end of it I found myself so bewildered at the complex chain of ironies in every thought and event which transpired that I could hardly care about most of the personal misfortunes And psychologically injuries sustained as a result.

My experience was pretty atypical though, and I in retrospect have at many times held far too much (and others far too little) of a capacity to find amusement in various forms of ones own degradation and misfortune.

Another cause which I have experienced is a state of worry induced at the concern over the effects which panic and anxiety have on your existence and social reality. Though I have experienced this on many more occasions than the former, I do not have as much to say about it simply because it seems to be, at least for myself, more easily recognizable and far more easily untangled and removed from consciousness.

One method of success I’ve had with passively reducing the frequency of anxiety on a longer term scale is by reminding myself consistently that by not worrying one may often increase quality of life along with the odds of seeing favorable outcomes in general.

Conversely if your more of a negative reinforcement type of person it may help to remind oneself that worry actually decreases the respective odds and your quality of life though for many this can add another layer of problems.

As for actively removing oneself from a state of escalated anxiety (which I am required to do rather often.) If I am not in a social or work environment and the cause of anxiety is a more internal thing I often find the best course of action is to seek a compelling distraction.

If I am seeking to distract myself, I often find simple things to reorient ones consciousness such as listening to music reading, exercising, cleaning or doing something creative, or just plain productive in nature all seem to have some inherent ability to transform inner anxieties into a sense of either calm, focus or excitement.

However I also often opt to take the other route, mostly when an anxious state becomes so intense that conventional forms of distraction cannot rid of it. For me this most often involves the previously described state of meta-worry because of its perceived ability to take me much further away from a normal psychological homeostasis thus disrupting normal tactics of quelling anxiety.

This method is a bit more complicated, and more fit for those with a psycho-analytic- or introspective preference of dealing with psychological problems. This can be done In ones thoughts, or through conversation, I often find asking myself questions on paper as the preferred medium. No matter what the objective is the same: to break down the causes of your unrest to the point where it can no longer hold any power over you.

I find paper to be preferable because trying to sort things out in my mind can often be very difficult especially while experiencing wide arrays of various racing thoughts associated with anxiety, as well as because allowing this to happen in conversation can often make one come off as pessimistic, cowardly, overwhelming or in some cases flat out crazy.

Kinda ironic to think that one would do something as crazy as talking to themselves on paper to avoid looking crazy but it surprisingly provides me with one of the best outlets I’ve ever found.

An incredible outlet not only for anxiety, but also thought patterns that might be described as ‘magical’, delusional, self-defeating, narcissistic, paranoid and or self destructive in nature.

Some of these I can verify from experience and some only through word of mouth though I do not wish to be specific on which ones.

I can however attest that opting to learn more about the way you think by writing down your thoughts and questioning them as well as yourself about them causes an extreme reduction in the frequency of these thoughts, the extent to which they may negatively impact decision making, and the chances that they will accidentally surface in a conversation where they would not be appropriate.

Well that’s enough babbling for a day, I hope someone is able to find some kind of benefit or use from this article, if you have any non-medicinal methods of dealing with anxiety feel free to let us know in the comments section below.

Trump Shills Himself on Live TV… What a Surprise.

So it’s about 7:30pm. TV switches on. The president’s talking about fake news again. AWESOME! I don’t normally watch television, but as an (in)active participant of the fake news community, I felt a conviction to watch it.

Within about 10 seconds I was laughing almost hysterically. He gets up on stage and addresses the fake news community by flaunting his wealth in front of them and calling them poor. WHAT A GUY!

Trump takes to the classic high school-lunch table technique of reminding all of his opposing agents that he had “a better education, a nicer house, nicer cars, nicer everything…” Of course this drove the crowd wild.

For some reason there seemed to be a lot more controversy over the fact that he said the word bullshit, which I find a little confusing. Who cares if someone gets up and swears on national television? It’s not like kids get up in the morning and watch the news. What bothers me is the childish and materialistic approach he takes to in response to the media. Entertaining indeed but probably more cut out for reality television than United States President.

What’s next, bragging to all the leaders of third world countries about our technological and societal development? I hope he knows that people who don’t value materialism can’t be the list bit daunted by his boasts. Speaking of which isn’t this supposed to be the land where there’s never a boast or a brag?

This is absolutely incredible.

I can spend 5 minutes listening to punk music and hear more political discourse than in 2 hours of hearing our president speak, what a time to be alive.

Adfectantibus Romanis Cantor

Adfectantibus Romanis Cantor

Adfectantibus Romanis Cantor
— Read on chaotickblisse.com/2019/03/27/adfectantibus-romanis-cantor/

another poem from our episodic verse project chaotick bliss!

On Bakunin’s Catechism(1851)

Original Text (1971 English Translation)

Before my intentions have the chance to be skewed I want to explicitly state that I strongly disagree with all anti antisemitic claim made by Mikhail Alexandrovich Bakunin.

Despite this flaw of character I find most of his other sociological outlooks to be in many ways quite innovative, under examined and potentially even prophetic(if one believes in that sort of thing).

For those who are unaware of who he is, (I suspect many would be as not many people I have met have the desire nor time to study anarchist philosophy.) Bakunin was a Russian political-philosopher became well known for a school of ideological thought known as syndicalism.

This is often thought to be a sub-type of anarchism, and while Bakunin certainly did carry many anarchist ideals along with a very-anti-authoritarian outlook, I question whether or not I would consider the fundamental ideas behind the initial backbone of this theory established throughout his 1851 work: Catechism to be inherently anarchistic.

Regardless the translator cites this accreditation in the preface by H. E, Kaminski which refers to this work as “The spiritual foundation of the entire anarchist movement….”

Herein are many of the defining principals and conditions which it posited, along with an attempt to analyze, simplify, and draw associative connections throughout to the best of my ability.

“III. Freedom is the absolute right of every adult man and woman to seek no other sanction for their acts than their own conscience and their own reason, being responsible first to themselves and then to the society which they have voluntarily accepted.”(Bakunin 1851)

Here we can see the anti-authoritarian fail-safe that will become a backbone to protect the anarchist ideal from the less libertarian parts of this theory. This means that all individuals ought to possess the right to voluntarily choose what society or ‘syndicate‘ one would like to live in. This also guarantees the anarchist-friendly principal which allows any to act as an autonomous entity if one so desires.

Furthermore, it advocates that while their responsibility to their society ought to be upheld, their duty to satisfy their own basic necessities for themselves ought to supersede, which to me sounds like an idealistic portrayal of certain aspects found in modern capitalism.

“V. The freedom of each is therefore realizable only in the equality of all. The realization of freedom through equality, in principle and in fact, is justice.”(Bakunin 1851) 

Contrary to his anti-Semitic claims he appears to display a very Egalitarian sociological outlook. This is demonstrated by the claim that the freedom of all is a necessary requirement for the freedom of any. It does this by positing equality to be responsible and inherently required for the existence of genuine freedom.

“VII. Absolute rejection of every authority including that which sacrifices freedom for the convenience of the state.” (Bakunin 1851)

Here we can see anarchist fundamentals beginning to take shape. This makes a broad call which underlies a key ideal common among most if not all anarchist thinkers being the abolition of all authoritarian power structures.

This Particularly addresses administrative functions of society which infringe on the Liberty of it’s people in order to maintain order and protect the interests of leadership. It’s easy to see imagine that Bakunin probably would’ve despised the United states Patriot Act!

“Liberty must result from the greatest possible realization of individual liberty, as well as of liberty on all levels of social organization.”(Bakunin 1851) 

Unlike many modern conceptions of Anarchism, Bakunin’s theory did not inherently call for the abolition of organized society, merely the parasitic authoritarian power structures. He believed that in the absence of all authoritarian leadership, humans would still be capable of fully organizing themselves around the necessities of liberty and the preservation of collective interests such as production, maintenance of equality through justice; and functions which serve the general good of society such as education and health services.

At first this comes off as a bit Utopian, but think about it. If the cells in our body could evolve over time into a working homeostasis as complex as the human body, who’s to say that humans could not also be capable of doing the same on a macro-cosmic scale. As if the principals of biological evolution were carrying over into sociological evolution.

To some this may start to be sounding a bit like Marxism, and while many key ideas of Karl Marx are compatible with the ideas of Bakunin he seems to condense the Marxist societal model into only a portion of his own, allowing it to mutually coexist with multiple other flavors of voluntary cooperation.

Bakunin believed that society ought to be formed “according to the principles of free association and federation.” This can be a little difficult to fathom at first, but once you catch on, an entire new world of possibility for the socioeconomic future of mankind becomes available for contemplation.

“\The life of each nation is subordinated to a plethora of different historical, geographical, and economic conditions, making it impossible to establish a model of organization equally valid for all. Any such attempt would be absolutely impractical. It would smother the richness and spontaneity of life which flourishes only in infinite diversity and, what is more, contradict the most fundamental principles of freedom.”(Bakunin 1851)

Above is what I believe to be one of the most compelling arguments for the development of such a system. This vastly multi-paradigmatic societal system could potentially be compared to the different organ structures which make up an organism, as well as the different components which compose a working machine, depending on how one would prefer to look at it.

With this principal in place, societies could theoretically coexist in such a way that a barter capitalist society, a 60s counter-culture styled hippy commune, a direct-democracy, and a socialist-republic could all co exist peacefully as co-operating participants of a larger collective unit, and everyone would get a voluntary choice over which type of society they would like to live under if any, or start there own should they please. This allows for lack of better words the existence of a modular form of society.

In some ways this could almost be seen as similar to modern day United States… If we were to eliminate the need for federal and state governments as we know them today, instead delegating all leadership to court systems and what appears to be the purest form of popular sovereignty I have yet to come across.

Bakunin goes into further detail into explaining the intricacies of his ideas throughout the rest of the essay as well as his many subsequent works. These are however outside the scope of this article’s goal of painting a broad conceptual analysis and explanation of his often overlooked and poorly understood syndicalist-anarchist school of thought.

I hope we all were able  to get something out of this. Even more so, I hope you are inspired to read further into the works of Bakunin and the world of Anarchist Philosophy and political theory in general.

Since I began reading his works the revolutionary ideas within have never ceased to stir up, intrigue, and inspire the intellectual capacities of my mind. You can likely expect more on him as I progress through his work and occupy myself with the contemplation, association, and analysis of his thoughts and ideas.

Until than I wish you all a wonderful day/evening/!

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On Beliefs, Respect, and Emperor Trump!

Who the fuck would waste half their time caring if other people respect them or not. It’s not like you’ll ever earn the respect of the entire world. Why bother earning anyone’s respect?
I went through all of high school going out of my way to give myself a bad reputation. Why? Because to me it was fucking hilarious. I openly talked about my drug use (in front of students and teachers alike), went out of my way to be as offensive as I possibly could without displaying any prejudice,  rarely every listened to instructions and argued with literally everyone about anything, even if I was arguing against something I believed in.

In hindsight I was probably more likely to argue against things I believe in. Why? Because I don’t wanna believe in shit. The only reason I believe anything for that matter is because I can’t find enough counterpoints not too.

What use is believing anyway. If you think belief is anything more than a barrier between you and understanding you should probably reevaluate some shit.

For example I used to believe that to be president you were required to be a good person. Until I realized 90% of all world leaders who have ever existed anywhere were war happy subjugating scumbags.

Im all for a good bar fight or a heated argument but why do we have to send millions of people to get killed every year over foreign Oil, is the military one big citizen recycling program or something?

Is it to push the christian agenda so we don’t have to worry about those pesky Muslims or Hindu’s revealing that the religion our country was founded over has more internal contradictions than a Trump speech? Or is it Another excuse for society to alter itself into an example to prove social Darwinism correct so that we can use ourselves as a biased case for the ideologies our scientists like?

Which leads me to another point, why  do people put so much faith in science. It literally invalidates almost everything it discovers every few decades. Do people really hate math and physics that much? I honestly belief the preference for scientific discovery comes from the fact that people think they can just trust any publication put out without understanding the work that went behind it. See there I go believing shit again, this is why people need to understand things or else they say dumb shit like I just did.

As if someone isn’t capable of publishing fake case reports to sponsor or weaken the integrity of specific products and ideas. It’s almost as if this happens on a regular basis through lobbyists.

While this is being read, our president is most likely standing out on his balcony grabbing some white house staff lady by the pussy, whilst smoking crack out of a rolled up constitution, while saying a prayer to his patron hero the Ghost of Richard Nixon.

“Just tell them your not a racist while giving air quotes” Nixon’s words echo in his ear.

“I know you weren’t a crook!” Trump declares valiantly giving his salute before proceeding to adjust his nut sack held tightly by an american flag speedo.  Just picture it for a second? Breath taking isn’t it. Now that’s what I call a Kodak Moment if I’ve ever seen one.

“Another Day another third world country to subjugate!” Trump enthusiastically exclaims as he throws the house maid over the balcony to cover up the evidence.
“No accusations coming this time!” He blurts with a good chuckle, after words he gives a prayer to his lord and savior Boss Tweed before riding off into the sunset on the back of a horse drawn carriage being pulled by illegal immigrants flying a banner with the words “FREE WALLS FOR ALL” painted on it in red white and blue sharpie.

I hope you all enjoyed this treatise to the greatest tyrant of the greatest country ever founded. I propose we start a petition to get Emperor trump’s face added to mount Rushmore.  I’m so grateful to be born in such a time of great ideological prosperity!

VIVA LA FAKE DEMOCRACY FOR ALL !!!

 

Spiritual Scumbags

The morning began fairly normal. I woke up, took 3 shots of whiskey, as well as a shot of bourbon for good measure, and than preceded upstairs to make coffee.

I prepared two cups, and sat down with the ghost of Former United States Senator Carl Hayden to negotiate the new spiritual import laws on fourth dimensional Tesseracts.

I asked him how he took his coffee, too which he replied sincerely, that he preferred it to with cream and sugar. This was followed by an angry fist on the table after which he insisted that if anyone should ask he takes his coffee black.

“How beautiful.” I thought, even in the afterlife politicians are hardcore liars. Just goes to show that death parts us from our closest friends and family but never our sins. Just when I was finished with my cup, he dissapeared into a puff of smoking, taking the cup with him.

“YOU DAMNED DEMOCRATIC SCOUNDREL, THAT WAS FINE CHINA!”  I yelled angrily whipping the cup across my room. In hindsight this was quite counter productive, as I should have known it would go right through him and now I had lost two coffee cups. I swept up the glass shards into a bowl, this would make a good snack I assured myself. So I sat down with pen in hand (in front of my typewriter) and began to snack on the shards as I write this article.

Now that I’m caught up i’m not sure what to say. We hadn’t planned ahead this far. When I say we I meant my spiritual congregation. This includes the ghosts of Lou Reed, Phil Ochs, Mikhael Alexandrovich Bakunin, Fyodor Dostoevsky, William Godwin, Hunter S. Thomson, and Albert Hoffman.

Me and my dead friends began to form a football huddle. During this we discussed all sorts of upcoming natural disasters,  sociological movements, the results of political affairs, stock market trends, and our tastes in women.

After the crowd cleared out I decided that this article probably wasn’t worth continuing and that I was probably better off playing guitar. This wasn’t hard to convince myself as music is only slightly preferable to writing.

I honestly hope this article was too confusing for you all to enjoy. If it wasn’t you might just be bordering on literal insanity; if you do that probably means we should be friends so like subscribe and leave a comment you scumbags.

The most Lit phone call that probably never happened.

It was about 4 in the morning. Nothing was out of the ordinary besides myself. After smoking my 7th off brand cigarette in a row, I made the critical decision to light an eighth one. I would probably be worried about cancer if I were a real person.

By now it was about 4:05 and I heard a phone ringing. Now normally this wouldn’t be too weird, except that I did not own a phone. I looked around for the source of the ringing only to discover a payphone had sprouted out of my basement floor. It was at that same moment I recognized the phones ringtone: It had been set too the tune of Rappers Delight by the Sugar hill gang.

“Well that’s nifty” I thought. Doing my best not to get caught up in the songs rhythm, yet very clearly struggling; I walked over and picked up the phone,. I was presented with a dial tone that informed me I was being called collect.  I was than prompted to insert two quarters, a cigarette, and half a quart of motor oil, In order to receive this call.

Having just spent every last cent I had on bottom shelf whiskey, I knew exactly what must be done. Sprinting full force to the gas station across the street I quickly acquired two quarters from the take a penny thing (without buying anything of course.)

Many nasty looks were given. No cares however could be found. I ran back into my abode to insert the two quarters before the phone stopped ringing. After that I inserted the motor oil followed by the cigerette, which was spit back out at me with a note: I only smoke Menthol’s.

I contemplated returning to the store but I really didn’t want to waste $10 on a pack of Newport Greens. I ran to my bathroom, and soaked a cigarette in mint flavored mouth wash before drying it with a hair dryer. I was quite confident this would fool the machine. I returned and reinserted, hoping for the results like a hopeless gambler watching the contents of his welfare check being eaten up by a shiny red slot machine at some shady casino.

It spit the cigarette out. “Well shit it must be one smart payphone.” I began to think too myself. My assumption was wrong, however because the note this time read “Break the filter off and light it you fool!” I did as instructed and proceeded to pick up the phone.

Apparently it was god. Which sorry to tell all you Christians out there, but the voice on the phone was a female. Apparently I was elected to become our generations Devil. I asked why? I was not particularly evil. This was when she explained to me that the devil wasn’t actually evil. But more like the actor who plays the villain in a movie. Except that unlike most movies the true distinction of who’s right and who’s wrong isn’t so clear.

He explained to me that the counter culture needs prophets too, and that I was in line for the lineage. Unconvinced I wanted to see some proof that I was talking too god and not an Imposter. The voice informed me it could be verified. When I asked how: the phone booth dissipated, sinking into the ground. I suppose that was all the proof I needed.

If there is anything I took from this meta-fictional experience it’s

  1. God smokes menthols.
    and
  2. I need to lay off the drugs.

When Drugs Stole my World (And How I Got it Back)

Quick disclaimer that this isn’t the main writer on TGN; I hope to share more insights in the future.

It’s been a long time, almost a year and a half. I forget a lot of things that happened, a lot about how I felt at the time, a lot of the wisdom I was giving to others at the outpatient. But I still have a story to tell. To show that what I did is possible; to show that with enough struggle, hard work, and trial and error, sobriety is achievable.

Without going into too much detail about how I got there, like most I started with pills and never thought I’d end up using heroin. They’re safer, right? You know what’s in them and how much, and doctors give them to people on prescription. (At least back then, this was somewhat true; I’ve heard most “oxys” going around nowadays have random amounts of fentanyl.)

This is not to mention that at the same time, I had serious problems with cocaine, and to a lesser extent Xanax. The combination produced a level of sheer pleasure that’s impossible to describe. But all of these habits needed to be tended to and paid for, consistently and without delay. That’s always the biggest problem isn’t it?

Unlike many others, I fully understood what kind of fire I was playing with — I had prior experience with all sorts of drugs, and had known both addicts and recovered addicts who told me their stories, but it never got quite so out of control. This time was different. I had just tried to kill myself and figured that going off into the “land of nod” might be an easier, more fruitful alternative.

But of course, pills are expensive, and they’re meant to be taken in small amounts for pain management. Me, I would do a month’s prescription in as little as two days. And, obviously, the dependency set in soon enough, and I needed bigger and bigger doses, more and more frequently. So once I had bought every last pill the dealers in my neighborhood could find, and all the other sources had me waiting for the next month’s prescription, it was a no-brainer what would come next: heroin. I needed something, anything.

Once you try heroin, in my opinion at least, there’s no going back to pills. Why would you spend ten times as much money for basically the same thing? Heroin is cheap and it’s available everywhere. I’d be scrambling all around the city looking for oxys, but dope was just a five minute walk. And if that dope man wasn’t around, the next one was only five minutes from there.

I never got as bad into it as some others. I was limited by what I could afford, so a decent bundle would have to last two days. And, as I mentioned before, every two days I was also going through an 8-ball of coke and 16-32mg of Xanax. I never really got into stealing to support the habit, with the exception of ripping people off on drug deals and disappearing with the cash. I did spend every dime I could find on it, though, and went deep into debt.

By the time I overdosed, I was sure I would put an end to it. I weened myself off a bit, going down to a bag or two a day, then got a ton of Xanax and hunkered down for the withdrawal. It was awful, but I hadn’t been in the game for too long, so it wasn’t as bad as it was when I quit for real. But this wasn’t lasting.

Instead of seeing the risk and avoiding opiates, I was emboldened by this whole situation: I felt as if I’d demonstrated that I can handle opiates, that I was able to cut it out when I decided it was time. So when I was offered oxys, I’d buy them. I had no intention of staying sober. I just wasn’t actively seeking dope.

Then one day, I got offered dope. It was pretty funny, actually. I ran into my man walking down the block, he said “yo, I got that food,” and that was that. Quickly I went back to the same old habit — bundle and 8-ball every two days or so, though with less Xanax involved. The debt I had paid up started to rack up again, and at this point all my bridges started to burn.

Eventually, it got to the point where the drugs weren’t working anymore. The whole point was to stop me from killing myself, but I had fucked up so bad that I realized I now actually wanted to kill myself more as a result of what the drugs did to me. On top of that, I was isolated, and felt everyone looked down on me. I was doing poorly at work and constantly in debt, doing crackhead shit and asking people for money to pay for the necessities that came after dope on my list of priorities.

Most people at this point just treated me like shit. People were always trying to mess with me, trick me, rip me off. Always being subtlety disrespectful and condescending. My family was constantly upset and treated me with great suspicion. A couple close friends begged me, crying, telling me to stop, talking about how much they worried about me, including one of the authors from TGN (before TGN existed). This had an effect, but it also made me sad, and sadness led to suicidal thoughts, and suicidal thoughts lead to escapism, and escapism lead to more dope.

Eventually, though, I realized I had to cut it out. I couldn’t afford my habits anymore and my family had learned all about them. I struggled for a couple weeks, arguing with myself and trying to use less without plunging into the hell of dope sickness. But at this point, it didn’t feel like much of a choice — I had to change. I was thousands of dollars in debt and on the verge of suicide again.

So, I started by cutting out the coke. After doing coke every waking hour of the day for weeks, if not months without a break, the crash can be pretty fucking brutal. In the past I had even experienced very serious signs of cardiovascular issues during these crashes. But I still had my dope, so it was actually manageable.

Then the dope came next. The promise of the sickness was terrifying. After a day, it was obvious that I couldn’t handle it. So I borrowed some money and got some kratom, knowing it would help. I started taking absolutely massive doses, but they took the withdrawal away about 90%. It was a lifesaver. But it also became another habit, albeit not a destructive or fiendish one, which I’m still ever-so-slowly tapering myself off of. In some ways, I attribute my being alive today to kratom. At the same time, part of me wishes I had been able to stop using it right after I was over the withdrawal, instead of using it as a long-term maintenance therapy. But that seemed like it would lead to me killing myself, and it might have, so I’ll take whatever works. I got clean, and I’m not dependent on conventional maintenance treatments like Suboxone or methadone (actual opioids which are far stronger and harder to quit than kratom).

That’s not to say there weren’t setbacks. A day or two after I stopped using dope, I lost my job as a result of the poor work I had been doing the last few months I was on it. I still had to pay my living expenses and pay off the colossal debt, so on top of that I had to turn to my parents for financial assistance. At this point I was completely destroyed and felt like I couldn’t get any lower. All pride, ego, narcissism, even basic dignity to an extent, destroyed and gone with the wind, never to recover.

A week later I finally got off the Xanax. That was more of an intermittent thing, though, and I hadn’t done too bad with the last round of it, so a quick self-taper was all I needed. I had been through far worse Xanax withdrawal before, so this wasn’t a big deal. I don’t even remember what it felt like coming off of them that time (well, in fact, I don’t remember much about my Xanax usage at all) but it was nothing compared to the dope sickness. Nothing could ever compare to that. (That’s not to say Xanax isn’t fucking nasty!)

Almost a month into sobriety, I was still experiencing physical withdrawal symptoms. Lethargy, low appetite, muscle pain. I couldn’t walk even 10 minutes down the street without simultaneously feeling like my leg muscles were tearing and like I was going to faint. The cravings for both coke and dope were absurd, causing muscle spasms and making me writhe in pain and scream at the top of my lungs for no apparent reason. On top of that, mentally, I hadn’t really gotten anywhere. The addict mind state is hard to break out of. This all combined with encouragement from friends and family led me into an outpatient.

Outpatient was a useful experience. Find a good place where you’re not going to find many junkies who are just in there because of a court order, and where the counselors are decent and actually care to understand you. Pay attention to what they teach and engage the others there who have some sober time and can give you good insight. Don’t be afraid to speak up and share. It’s my belief that this is what truly leads to recovery — you can stop doing drugs without it, but a good support program will get you out of the mental state of addiction, and that’s the most important thing. That’s what will prevent you from relapsing and enable you to move on with your life.

It took about a year of sobriety for my life to actually get better. And frankly, if you’d ask me most days, it still fucking sucks. But if I think about how much it sucked two years ago, I shudder. It feels like it’s behind me now, and I no longer have the same frame of reference. At this point, I couldn’t see myself ever relapsing, so long as I stay vigilant. Staying vigilant is key; you just have to keep yourself far removed from drugs and drug users and be aware of the fact that addiction is a lifelong disease that, in the wrong circumstances, you can fall back into again.

I used to use all those drugs to stop thinking about suicide. Now I’d rather just think about suicide than go through all the bullshit the drugs put me through. Most of the time, honestly, I would rather just kill myself if I was going to relapse, ironic since it used to be the other way around.

So, what’s the point at the end of this long-winded, rambling story? That if you or anyone you know is struggling with addiction, sobriety is absolutely within reach. All it takes is a radical shift in perspective. An understanding of the reasons why you use drugs, which then leads to the understanding that drugs actually make all of these problems worse. Most (some would say all) of us have to learn this the hard way. But if this story can be of any sort of assistance to even one person, that’s enough of God’s blessing for today.

People We may (not) be.

This is a scripture of several individuals who I may or may not have been. While I can say with absolute earnestly that I never have been, let alone could have dreamed of possessing the capabilities of such persons. I will leave the distinction open toward and welcoming of all conspiring and doubt. It is not within me to welcome my detractors in any way other than with arms widely open. After all without them too whom would we respond?

It is to your interpretation alone reader, and no one else’s (and at the same time everyone else’s) where you fit as well as myself in this depicted development of anybody who would be anyone. I leave my position open to questioning and conspiracy not only as a challenge of perception, but as a challenge to the overall certainty of ones place within the not so grand playing field of existence.

Existence being little more than ones aspiration to play a role in the most immaculate of all comedies. A self contrived definition reflective of the understanding of all existing conflict as little if anything more than mere irony. With all due reason, could one define any idea for themselves without extracting a self contrived nature in the same action?

Only if they are the first to do so, or if they are so uncertain that they opt not to align themselves with the defense of their own declarations. I’ve never seen any point in aligning with ones own ideals, in fact I argue against my own beliefs more than anyone I know. By what other means (if any) could self depreciation be found profitable?

Suppose We may be correct in this assumption of the universe existing as a joke played upon itself. A joke who’s punchline we may or May not be reconciled with in the after life. A prank which may or may not exist at all. Knowing all well that if it should choose to exist that I must and will do so for no reason other than to have existed.

Not vanity but Beauty. For true beauty and irony really are no different. An observation that sets the dividing line between itself and vanity. Vanity being understood as a spiteful interpretation of perceived novelty. When the interpreter is for some reason or another unable to measure that which is novel he is lead to flip the coin onto its side and perceive it as a disgusting establishment of vanity even if and not surprisingly most often when the novelty is unaware of Its potential to be taken as a vanity.

All these premises are mischievously declared directly in spite of certainty. A self assuming depiction of How I dubiously enjoy spitting on those who cling to such a morally intangible form of (sub)conscious satisfaction. As if permanently silencing the mind entirely lent any advantage beyond numbing oneself from their own experience.

For the degenerate, the intellectual, the artist, inventor and philosopher alike (assuming one can be any of these things without being all) certainty and all Unipolar forms of reason for that matter are little more than a road block in the way of creativity, innovation, or all expansion of existing ironies along with all ability to deliver it.

This speaks to the deficit one acquires through blind faith in theology or the scientific method. However if one is to ascribe to both a spiritual and a scientific worldview simultaneously. Or neither. Than the contradictions of this dualism or the theoretical pot holes left by inaction will give way to the delight of inspirational fervor toward some sort of reconciliation of the two.

And what a delight it is gentleman to be inspired to the unification of seemingly contradictory ideals. This delight may seem naive, and while it certainly is naively perhaps even idiotically optimistic as is true to the nature of all joys and delights. Despite all posits of idiocy this sort of naivety is not only profitable but necessary as our would be fictional narrator will now demonstrate. How should we be expected to retain any genuine integrity throughout the course of our lifespan without an equivalent level of humility? The answer? We shouldn’t.

It is for this same reason gentleman that nobody may hold themself in a heightened regard without immediately looking down on themselves for doing so. The only way around this being self deception, which as we’re already so meticulously aware goes to show that ignorance is the only true bliss. This leaves us with the decision to choose between the blissful advantage of ignorance and the joyous excitement of perception.

Likewise no one may truly humble themselves to the point where they do not at any level of their consciousness take pride in being humble. Perhaps in spite of its disadvantage, this path of excitement may be preferable to some, and worthy of inspiring malice in those who did not choose it. Those who walk such a path become well aware of the malice it inspires in their counterpart, even if their counterpart does not let an ounce of spite through to the surface.

It is for this reason alone that we may not walk the path less traveled by without succumbing to a varying degree of superiority for doing so. Be there many a trickster who denounce any superiority in their individuality but these self-embracing fools are merely taking that superiority to an entire new level.

Humorous it is gentleman that in an attempt to denounce ones own authority that they merely extend the range of targets to which it is applicable. Thi s is because they are now attempting to posit their status as above both those who walk the path less traveled as well as those who don’t.

What we have as this product gentleman is a true blooded narcissist’s narcissist. The type who could kill a man and in the same breath strike his wife to the ground and be fully confident in the morality of it. That he not only considers this an advantage above the men he perceives to be of lesser importance, but as a primary virtue.

While living in stark contrast to a self deprecating and self defeating naive optimist such as myself they somehow spiritually resemble an almost disturbing likeness to one another. Perhaps the one thing these two have in common is their distance from those who walk the common path. Is it possible gentleman, that the anti-hero and the anti-villain are in fact equal opposites?

Certainly one could not exist without the other but does this make them tantamount? By all means it may and it may not, I am not the decider of this quandary. If you believe the world to be the perfect macrocosm of the conceptual zero sum game I suppose they would be perfectly tantamount.

However if you do not believe the net energy of the universe to be zero (as most men of direct action who have not yet been acquainted with any ageless wisdom do, along with the most positive and disgustingly naive of all optimists) than they could not be any more different.

While displaying a seemingly pessimistic view of things, it is precisely why I opt not to ascribe myself too it. Some would point to such a discrepancy and shout insanity. He should think himself perfectly justified as such a worldview is in direct opposition of sanity. It should seem as if all who opposed are condemning themselves to rot in a stalemate of their own construction, though this could not be further from the truth.

What has not been accounted for but many times assumed is that genius, like insanity is also in direct contrast of sanity. Genius and insanity are certainly not mutually exclusive but they are not equivalent either. what difference than stands between them? A genius uses madness as a tool to discover what reason has overlooked, to expand understanding to new lengths and to connect them and reconcile them with what was prior understood.

Insanity on the other hand uses madness as an ethical basis to argue against that which complies with reason. No one asks this of the madman, he is merely asserting his desire to comply with his own maddened perspective rather than reason. An agenda no different than he who sets out to start a bar fight with the laws of gravity.

Lord knows The genius has his fare share of these bar fights as well, the only difference being that one truly believes in its merit. The other merely seeking to ascertain what stake of new knowledge and experience may be claimed as a result. this is not to say that there is nobody standing in between these two positions, in fact most do. It is obscenely difficult to ascertain which one may be inhabiting or afflicting a persons consciousness, even more so for the one standing there.

In spite of all differences they are both certainly artists in the most genuine sense of the word. Albeit in their own respects. In spite of all implications one may be above above the other, we cannot be quick to overlook the madman’s place as perhaps the greatest inspiration of all genius. Not only inspiration but also its primary defense against the eyes and arms lined up in their fear inspired defense of all that is conventional and assumed to be understood prior.

I DARE any audacious outspoken readers to comment.

If you do not press subscribe as promptly as possible I swear by all that is vested within me that I will do ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ABOUT IT!