Miracle on Gillingham

What became of paradise?

Reality...a dream.

Love unearthed from ashes

was bursting at the seam.

Companionship discovered

Lovers all the way

Friendship first, then soulmates

What did we always say?

Chorus:

A miracle on Gillingham, As Canaveral launched the sky

The Central Florida moonlight, ignited you and I

Several years of longing, delivered now in bliss...

In what I'd learn to treasure as the world's perfect kiss

The heart doesn't know zoning

A fact I've often fought

Believe in our connection

Right now its all we got

I still can feel your heartbeat

Im closer than it seems

Despite my self destruction

You've never left my dreams

Chorus:

A miracle on Gillingham, As Canaveral launched the sky

The Central Florida moonlight, ignited you and I

Several years of longing, delivered now in bliss...

In what I'd learn to treasure as the world's perfect kiss

From Georgia to the Ocean,

I see you at my side

Some things should be forever,

despite chemical pride.

Never forget that moment,

right when you kissed me back.

As long as we can feel it,

We'll always have a chance

While I might not always talk about it...these eyes notice just about everything.

I'm forcing myself to write this blog right now. Well, I suppose 'force' is a bit of a strong word. I am encouraging myself to write this blog! Is that better?

I've decided to watch the first season of the Sopranos again. I'll likely continue through the entire series. Its an interesting choice for me for very deep reasons. When I was at the deepest time of my drug use, I happened to be watching this series. I downloaded the entire series and watched it last summer. The difference between last summer and now is that now I'm free of any chemicals. Last summer I still had a lot of pain in my leg from my injury so I was taking the painkillers pretty strongly. I was unaware that I was traveling down a slippery slope.

Now I've gone through the slippery shit and things are going pretty well. So for me to watch the Sopranos and be able to absorb everything without distraction is a nice victory dance of sorts. I know I still have a ways to go in the long run but this feels pretty damn good.

At first I was nervous, you know? I was concerned this would bring back some bad memories or create a primal urge for past demons. But nothing like that transpired at all. Everything is feeling pretty nice.

I sort of miss being able to crack open a cold Coca Cola, however. My current living situation prevents me from keeping such treats in the refrigerator as my roommates are unable to keep themselves from cracking the cans open and sucking down the sugary goodness.

Bastards.

I love how almost every blog post contains me bitching about my living situation. Great, eh?

The unbreakable king of analogies

I'm watching the movie, "Unbreakable". I'm reminded of my song "Superhero". That song was always one of my very favorites that I've ever written. A lot of that song has to do with ideals in that film. The story of a man with something missing from his life...and he needs to find it. It turns out that he has abilities most other men don't making him a hero.

Sometimes I feel like that in certain ways. While I don't possess super powers of any kind, I feel like there are things I can do that many others don't. I feel like I have a gift of sensitivity of sorts. I've always been really good at being able to feel other people's emotions and understand what they're feeling. I've always loved having that gift. In an argument or disagreement I can put myself into the other person's shoes to understand what they're thinking.

Sometimes I feel like it is a power that is quite super. A lot of people I've met in life can't imagine someone else's opinion or thought. It baffles me. Part of my gift is that I understand people and can think of what needs to be said for them to understand the situation. People I know always joke that I am the "King of analogies". That is a good way of putting it, I suppose.

The problem with all of this is that I pretty much wear my heart on my sleeve. Its a lot easier for someone to hurt my feelings than it might be for most people. Lots of people say little mean remarks when they're angry. My problem is I can't help but take everything to heart. When someone that I care about says something that hurts my feelings I just can't comprehend how they could do something like that. I know its partially hypocritical because I know I hurt people in life, too.

Cruel people use this against me to try and win an argument. But part of growing up weighing over 400 lbs has taught me to block out unintelligent banter. My whole life was full of people making fun of me and trying to make me hate myself more. These things bounce right off of me because they are coming from people that I care nothing about.

I wish I had the power to shut all of my emotions off with a kill switch. But I don't.

Revenge!

My roommates are fighting because they ate eachother's food. They are screaming at eachother. I've never felt more joyous in my life!! :-)

Oh God I am loving this. They fuck eachother over, too. That is the problem living with animals. One of them is out of bread and screaming at the other. The other was going to buy bread but needed money for cigarettes, it seems.

I love this. It feel so good to hear yelling that is not coming out of my mouth! hahaha

LRE is a joke.

I hate where I live. Every day it gets a little bit worse. Each morning I wake up here I feel like another little part of me has died. A fraction of my spirit has withered to lifelessness. I'm miserable, cold, and alone. The fact that other people are around means nothing as I am their pawn.

I'm there purely to be used. Both for entertainment and nourishment. Regardless of my taped up notes, name labels, and teary begging...they have every right to eat and drink anything and everything I buy. The mommys & daddys that pay for them to sit around all day long so they don't have to work...seem to have some deal in place. Not only can their spoiled children take up space in society and do nothing to contribute...they are allowed to disrespect and consume what others have worked so hart to provide for themselves.

I've been lucky to have lots of help from my parents over the years. But I still always worked and worked hard. I never just sat around and took up space like they do.

But I suppose they need the extra time. When else could they plan ways to fuck with me and ruin whatever time off I have from working? The other night I had the fun of trying to go to bed early beofre waking at 4am from work. But of course this just can't be allowed. I was treated to a few hours of them tossing a speakerphone into my bedroom after dialing some 900 number gross sex line. Then they'd run and hide. I begged them to stop and let me sleep, but they wouldn't. They did it continuously until they finally got bored of it. Eventually I managed to fall into a teary sleep. I get a lot of those nowadays.

Last night I came home from picking my dad up at the airport to find the front door chained closed from the inside. Apparently the plan was for them to sit down and watch me try to jimmy the windows open to get into the apartment. Once I finally made entry they were going to jump out to "scare me". Mind you this was about 1am. I had been awake since the wee early morning because I was working much of the day. Lucky for me I just beat on the door so they'd let me in. They unlocked the chain but ran to hide after that. Shockingly they jumped out from behind a wall to startle me. They're such winners, aren't they?

I don't keep any drinks in the house anymore because they drink them all. Despite me begging them not to...they do it anyway. Despite the owner of the house telling them not to...they do it anyway. I also have stopped buying groceries. They eat all of that too. It doesn't matter whos name is on it. There isn't really any question as to whos food it is because they little bit of money they come in contact with goes directly to cigarettes and PlayStation 3 games. It must be Mikey's...and fuck him. We eat and drink whatever we want.

I also have stopped buying groceries. The only small amount of food I buy has to fit in my breifcase because I need to be able to lock it up. No meats or veggies. Nothing frozen. Milk has to be a loss leader for me. I buy it cheaply from Wal Mart but I have to keep it in the fridge. Most of it is gone in about 2 days. Sometimes I even get a glass all to myself, can you believe it?

The owner of the halfwayhouse, Recovery First Inc, doesn't seem to give 2 shits. This place is a joke as far as a halfway house goes. The whole idea is to work and get a job and get life back together. All recovery first has is a huge cash cow where they can collect $200 / week from each child and do a little babysitting for a few months. Then once the parents falsely believe that everyhting is okay, the little bastards get to hit the 'real world' where they can go out and instantly relapse because they get NO EXPERIENCE of what the world is like in their halfway house.

So here I am. Broke, hungry, and depressed. The funny thing is...using doesn't even come into my mind right now. As much as I hate everything about my life and pray for the curtain call...I have no drug urges or anything like that.

The only thing I long for nowadays...is releif. Take that however you choose to take it.

Back to the Blog

Will this last? I keep telling myself that I'm going to be an active and thought provoking blogger that people will flock to every day to read whatever musings are dancing around in my freshly waxed head (yes I use crystal wax on my do).

Life is going __________. On some fronts you can add the word "great" into the blank space. But on other fronts you can insert the word "shitty".

I feel like my entire life got away from me, that I pissed all of it away. But then I think a little bit more and wonder what was so great about my life before I got involved with the Vicodin? I can tell you I was much happier thats for sure. I was in love. I sure miss that.

I miss people trusting me automatically instead of assuming the worst. I get this little rash on the right side of my nose. It usually comes from stress (which I can assure you I've had no shortage of lately). I also would sometimes get the rash when I was taking the aforementioned Vicodin. When my father sees the rash he immediately gets cold and vacant. He's been gone for two weeks and today I picked him up from the airport. Sadly my rash is slightly visible and he wouldn't say a word the whole drive home. He just stared at me in disgust. I offered to take a drug test. He didn't say anything back.

This happened a few weeks ago before they left. My rash showed up and he freaked out. I offered to take a drug test. We bought one, I peed, and everything was squeaky clean. I live in a community where I get randomly drug tested at least once a week if not more anyway.

The bottom line is that I'm done with the shit anyway. I completely understand that you shouldn't believe an addict when they say that, and that is fine. But I am saying it anyway for my own benefit. It has become clear to me that there is no way I can survive in life while using any narcotics. I have no urges any more. Frankly they terrify me. I have a great sponsor and I work a great program.

Sadly the only person who can know all of this for sure, is me. But it seems that my word isn't worth a quarter teaspoon of dog shit. I completely understand why. I just don't have to like it.