Typing, very litle agenda
With so little agenda that I am not sure I don't actually know what I am writing.
I know that I have some sort of association-al disorder, a dysfunction.
I had a good walk back home.
I began to understand .
ok, my hand:
"
DEJA VU.
An enviable position, in Brookline
Remarkable People
"
and something that I couldn't tell real early last night.
Am I only social when I'm fucked up?
No, no... Unfair question.
It was a good time though.
I liked the drive over
I liked the chillin' here
I liked the chillin' over there
I'm getting better thinking about the car.
I'm in need of drawing.
dwg.
I texted, people, last night.
I even picked up a phone call or two.
magnificent.
I'm even thinking of changing my phone message.
Thinking.
Because I doubt it.
But then...
What I was thinking yesterday, is that if I think that the first shot is duly brilliant, then any amendment I could would should make is just going to be that much better. why. why? because I don't let myself down when I'm not letting myself down.
So, time number two.
And then, when it is to be: time number three.
There is also, the fact that while I remember everything and it happening, I don't really remember anything last night. See, that is just not entirely true. But I guess I'm still too close to anything for my mind to be like, ok, go ahead you rubbernecker, take a look. I'm sayin' that the casualty victim is still out in the open. ha. I guess.
>shrug. I dont' remember anything I didn't like, or did not intend to do. I would remember something like that all hardcore-nasty-nasty-bad awful. I just can't replicate my actions unless and until I get like that again. And I don't. I am living in this silly little world of sobriety, because I have to be able to make it and fit in.
Fuck.
It's fine.
I've broken out my summer skirts.
With a bang yesterday.
Can I tell you just how good and well I know how to clash an outfit.
Duh, it looked hot.
I consider it a talent.
*********************
I think I'm going away for the night.
At least, that seems to have been the trend in which the topic had headed in.
Nice, right?
I took a nice little puff off a piece just now, and, so I'm again feelin' pretty good.
Still.
no supersaturation here.
no sir
I feel like I want food, but, I'm not hungry.
I am also glad that I mostly was able, last night, to unkink my back a bit. I love stoner-strechin'.
Sober-stretching is horrible.
These are my idle thoughts.
I write them because it is all I know how to write.
These aren't thoughts that a paper should have.
These are the notes of my life.
But I can't write to that. I am self-referential. Oh. ha. Yeah. and. Last night, during one of those you're-not-quite-sober-quasi-freak-out periods I examined the idea that I may, I just might, I most probably, am, an, an, an Ego-centric.
>hush<
I know? Right?
I am a self-referential eco-centric... diabolical... brigand!
I don't like talking about my feelings.
I don't like being sure whether or not I have them.
I am therefore, unsure, what exactly to say with this.
I am reasoning things out here.
There is no you and me, there is only we
We you, and we me.
[ And opera? Not musical theater / crooner coming in through the window ]
weeeeeeeee me.
I just like to hurt myself.
I understand hurt.
I had a thought last night.
That maybe this oh! shit!
I also have
a
Jesus Complex.
I can't believe I almost forgot *that* one. Yeah, so I have it understood, or, figured out at the very least, that, this is the time in my life where i will do my most suffering. and here is perhaps where my green-naivity comes in, because i just believe so whole-heartedly that life will turn out just fine. but then, i think that maybe that is a symptom of my not allowing conflict into my life. I have some strong ideas and insights onto *that* kind of person that then I might be. I don't know how to deal with my anger. I know what is inside of me, and I know that it just isn't something orderly or with reason. I know because of the tiny fissures that appear to let out some steam now and then. And whew! She is an unkind bitch.
I have to speak of myself as a multitude of persons.
I can't rectify them all together well in my head.
I am all of these things.
This is something I *know* but it is not something I can see.
I don't witness myself.
This is why I've been writing in here so much lately.
Like when I quit pot sophmore year.
There was something I was seeking to recapture or expose.
And I felt like, through repetition is could be brought out.
I feel, like, maybe I was keeping it inside by frightening it to death.
Cowering in the dark reaches and niches and spaces of my mind.
Right, now.
I'm just relaxing. I feel like the day is going to unfold quite nicely.
I'm really looking forward to the rest of this weekend.
There has been so much undue stress.
Due-stress.
Not unduly due.
Due-stress.
That I'm looking forward, to relaxing even more.
I've been really happy with myself this week, and I am going to do all I can to make that my reality.
Subjective-Objective reality.
-
I know that I have some sort of association-al disorder, a dysfunction.
I had a good walk back home.
I began to understand .
ok, my hand:
"
DEJA VU.
An enviable position, in Brookline
Remarkable People
"
and something that I couldn't tell real early last night.
Am I only social when I'm fucked up?
No, no... Unfair question.
It was a good time though.
I liked the drive over
I liked the chillin' here
I liked the chillin' over there
I'm getting better thinking about the car.
I'm in need of drawing.
dwg.
I texted, people, last night.
I even picked up a phone call or two.
magnificent.
I'm even thinking of changing my phone message.
Thinking.
Because I doubt it.
But then...
What I was thinking yesterday, is that if I think that the first shot is duly brilliant, then any amendment I could would should make is just going to be that much better. why. why? because I don't let myself down when I'm not letting myself down.
So, time number two.
And then, when it is to be: time number three.
There is also, the fact that while I remember everything and it happening, I don't really remember anything last night. See, that is just not entirely true. But I guess I'm still too close to anything for my mind to be like, ok, go ahead you rubbernecker, take a look. I'm sayin' that the casualty victim is still out in the open. ha. I guess.
>shrug. I dont' remember anything I didn't like, or did not intend to do. I would remember something like that all hardcore-nasty-nasty-bad awful. I just can't replicate my actions unless and until I get like that again. And I don't. I am living in this silly little world of sobriety, because I have to be able to make it and fit in.
Fuck.
It's fine.
I've broken out my summer skirts.
With a bang yesterday.
Can I tell you just how good and well I know how to clash an outfit.
Duh, it looked hot.
I consider it a talent.
*********************
I think I'm going away for the night.
At least, that seems to have been the trend in which the topic had headed in.
Nice, right?
I took a nice little puff off a piece just now, and, so I'm again feelin' pretty good.
Still.
no supersaturation here.
no sir
I feel like I want food, but, I'm not hungry.
I am also glad that I mostly was able, last night, to unkink my back a bit. I love stoner-strechin'.
Sober-stretching is horrible.
These are my idle thoughts.
I write them because it is all I know how to write.
These aren't thoughts that a paper should have.
These are the notes of my life.
But I can't write to that. I am self-referential. Oh. ha. Yeah. and. Last night, during one of those you're-not-quite-sober-quasi-freak-out periods I examined the idea that I may, I just might, I most probably, am, an, an, an Ego-centric.
>hush<
I know? Right?
I am a self-referential eco-centric... diabolical... brigand!
I don't like talking about my feelings.
I don't like being sure whether or not I have them.
I am therefore, unsure, what exactly to say with this.
I am reasoning things out here.
There is no you and me, there is only we
We you, and we me.
[ And opera? Not musical theater / crooner coming in through the window ]
weeeeeeeee me.
I just like to hurt myself.
I understand hurt.
I had a thought last night.
That maybe this oh! shit!
I also have
a
Jesus Complex.
I can't believe I almost forgot *that* one. Yeah, so I have it understood, or, figured out at the very least, that, this is the time in my life where i will do my most suffering. and here is perhaps where my green-naivity comes in, because i just believe so whole-heartedly that life will turn out just fine. but then, i think that maybe that is a symptom of my not allowing conflict into my life. I have some strong ideas and insights onto *that* kind of person that then I might be. I don't know how to deal with my anger. I know what is inside of me, and I know that it just isn't something orderly or with reason. I know because of the tiny fissures that appear to let out some steam now and then. And whew! She is an unkind bitch.
I have to speak of myself as a multitude of persons.
I can't rectify them all together well in my head.
I am all of these things.
This is something I *know* but it is not something I can see.
I don't witness myself.
This is why I've been writing in here so much lately.
Like when I quit pot sophmore year.
There was something I was seeking to recapture or expose.
And I felt like, through repetition is could be brought out.
I feel, like, maybe I was keeping it inside by frightening it to death.
Cowering in the dark reaches and niches and spaces of my mind.
Right, now.
I'm just relaxing. I feel like the day is going to unfold quite nicely.
I'm really looking forward to the rest of this weekend.
There has been so much undue stress.
Due-stress.
Not unduly due.
Due-stress.
That I'm looking forward, to relaxing even more.
I've been really happy with myself this week, and I am going to do all I can to make that my reality.
Subjective-Objective reality.
-