This whole blog thing, it’s just pointless. Whatever momentum this fucking thing ever had two years ago, or whenever I actually gave a shit about blogging, is long gone. Suffocated by sheer creeping, crawling, stinking of death and shit inertia. For fucks sakes I don’t even own my own computer anymore. For fucks sakes I’m sleeping in a storage room at somebody elses apartment and getting my sustenance from food stamps. What, I’m supposed to pull content out of events like my scavenging the ashtray at the convienient mart up the road f0r smokable butts?
My big mistake was ever thinking that anything on the internet actually mattered beyond the hype and facile gestures of actual communication. Its all bullshit and spectacle, commercialism and commercializing oneself to try and salve the festering wound, the truth that the old bluesman sang before drowning in his own vomit: AW THERE AINT NO LIFE NOWHERE.
Yet here I am, hopefully for the last fucking time, popping keys to get the monkeys out of my head before dawn hits like a brick in a bueraucrats face. And for what? The three people who even come to this thing are going to read about why I think Slackware is better than Ubuntu.
I’ve lost fifteen pounds in the past month trying to make my food stretch and I daydream of walking into one of those big chain drugstores with a mossberg to demand Dilaudid and cash because I’ve had it up to my asshole with this meek shall inherit the earth shit.
I’m just tired of The Big Lie, and I’m tired or promulgating it-the big lie that as long as one tries to be a good person, as long as one tries to do the Next Right Thing somehow magical fairys will move one’s life forward. It’s bullshit. I go from hope to die junkie to convict to subnormal member of society to homeless motherfucker and all the while I just want to be a nice guy. Fuck that, it didn’t get me a golden turd or anything, and try buying a pack of Ramen noodles with moral high ground.
It comes down to this, sure I have regrets-but right now I’m regretting that I wasn’t more of a cocksucker, that I wasn’t more ruthless and brutal and theiving and slimy. I’d probably be running a fortune 500 company if I had been. Times like this I think the only good decision I ever made out of feeling anything for anyone was getting married. If it weren’t for her I’d be sitting here with a fifth of Kessler and my arm tied off in preparation for another 40 units of get high.
But the truly sad, pathetic, weak thing is I’d just let myself go drift off into a slow, self induced chemical suicide before I rolled some drunk coming out of a bar or pulled a knife on a store clerk for money. Because I’m a pussy now. Because the last time I did shit like that they sent me to prison and they broke me.
So what have I got after all? I’ve got a woman who loves me eventhough I’m destitute, I’ve got words words words, and I’ve got the Big Lie to hold on to. But the Big Lie is really the only thing that keeps any of us from going on a tri state killing spree. We have to believe that if we play the game Things Will Work Out. That they’ll somehow work out better than strolling into a drugstore with a shotgun, or just acting like an asshole.
Fuckit all, I’ve got better things to do-like sleep-than sit here and howl at a wall at near five in the goddam morning. I hope you motherfuckers were amused.
Nothing new. Grey, rainy today. It would have been a better day if I could have seen my wife. I have to go get my prescriptions tomorrow eventhough I don’t have the money to fill them.
I’m way past caring what happens anymore. Seriously, what am I supposed to be worried about death? Death would be preferable to half of what I have to deal with.
So, last year Dee and I were living in Erie and we needed help with money to move out here and be with the kids. I started a donations page on digitalcharity.com and posted the link (the original post can be found here).
Well, as anybody who’s read this blog over the past few months will know I’ve found myself in a seriously fucked up situation since we lost our apartment out here, and it’s come to the point where I really have no choice but to ask for donations again.
First though, a little bit on my situation that I haven’t really talked about here in the blog. Basically, I was getting disability benefits for my chemical brain imbalance going back to 1990. I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in 1998, and though I worked on and off to some capacity, whenever I’d try to work more than part time I’d usually wind up in the nut bin after a short time. And yes, I was certainly self medicating during certain stretches of time but my drug usage was a separate issue from my mental problems-at least to the extent that even when I wasn’t using drugs I still grappled with my bipolar symptoms. Unfortunately I discovered very early on that the use of narcotics at least made me so blotto that I could ignore such symptoms, at least temporarily.
Of course, I stopped using drugs years ago and I was planning on going back to school and then working hopefully in the IT feild. I was handling things much better overall and figured if school went alright I should be able to handle work first part time and then full eventually. Well, that was my plan and I did write about it a few times here.
However, a couple of months ago everything changed. We had all that money stolen from us and we lost the apartment, and then I had to go out to Erie for a month…and while I was in Erie I come to find out that my disability benefits were cancelled and that I owed $21,000 in overpayment fees-all because I got married. Apparently, because I had been claiming as a dependant of my deceased father when I got married I ceased to be eligable. Of course it took them a year and a half to figure out that I got married, and thus the overpayment fees. And the whole time I had been unaware that getting married was going to make any kind of difference.
So, at any rate I had to reapply for disability-a different kind of benefits than I had before which would pay roughly half the amount per month than I was previously making. But here’s the clincher-it’s going to take five months for them to even redetermine my disability and then however long before I’ll actually recieve anything again. In the meantime I’m expected to just get by on my own resources, however if I work they’ll determine that I’m no longer disabled.
This, of course hasn’t stopped me from looking for a job simply because I really have no other prospects for making money legally and ethically. But, I’m at acertain disadvantage in this already abysmal job market since I have no transportation and I have a felony record. I don’t know what will even happen if I do find a job and work full time as far as my mental disorder, but I have to do something to make money since I’m still technically homeless and I need to get a place for me and my wife while also trying to get stuff for the kids for Christmas.
But yeah, basically things are really fucking hard for me right now. I’ve had no luck finding a job, I can’t stay where I’m at permanently, I’m broke and have co payments on my medication I have to come up with so I don’t go off my meds and start chasing people around with cutlery, and I really don’t want to have to resort to nefarious activities to generate income. Not only because I don’t really want to go back to prison, but because I’d really like to believe I put all that shit behind me.
So, I’m posting the link to last year’s donations page. Hopefully it still works, I tried to make a new one but couldn’t delete the old one to do it. I emailed the site and told them, so it may actually come down any time, in which case I’ll update everything in a future post or just try to figure out a way to install a donations button on my front page or something. But, y’know, if you can spare anything just donate via the old page and it should make it to me.
Thank you,
David
Well smack me with a bitchstick. Fucken hung out with my most awesome cousin Mindy tonight who I hadn’t seen in 11 years. Good times good times. Ate some kickass Old Forge Pizza from Revello’s, talked a lot-a real lot since she kept prompting me into self indulgent monlogue mode (aye, the prison storys flowed like Mountain Dew at a LAN party), and though I did manage to purchace a can of whoop ass with my food stamps we didn’t actually get the chance to enter in melee since obviously her much bragged about roundhouse was broken.
For serious though, it was definately cool. At one point we went to the cemetary and visited the graves of my aunt and uncle (her grandparents), which was sad and I cried a whole lot. But that was rather needed as I hadn’t really had the opportunity to properly mourn my aunts passing since I lived on the other side of the state when she died. I loved my aunt and uncle very much but I gave them-and all the family really-much grief when I was into heroin and all that shit. Kind of sucks, you know, I was standing there looking at their graves and I kept thinking if only there had been a little more time. But there wasn’t, they died and I never really got to show them that I could get my life back together. Fucken kills me.
But yeah, it was fairly bitchen to see my cousin again and I hope we get to hang out some more. Heh, actually, you know-if it weren’t for Facebook I might not have ever gotten back in touch with Mindy. Guess that annoying fucking site is good for something after all.
Fuck, you know it’s pretty fucking rad that through all of this shit I’ve been going through over the past couple of months I haven’t gotten fucked up. Honestly, it’s not that I haven’t thought about it, but it was in the way of like “well, gee, if I ever wanted an excuse to get shitfaced this is it”. But still, I haven’t exploited the excuse.
And the crazy thing is my roomate drinks, but seeing him and his friend get all beered up neither bothers me nor makes me want to “save” them. And as far as drugs, I have absolutely no desire.
Look, I don’t care how many people would differ on this saying alcoholism and drug addiction are lifelong diseases whether a person is actively getting fucked up or not…for serious, it’s just like I’m so over that shit. I’m not “in recovery” from now until the day I die, I’m fucking recovered provided I maintain my abstinence. Which isn’t that hard. I mean I’m hardly tortured by some burning yearning to impair myself with drugs or alcohol, and besides I’m secure in the knowledge that getting loaded would not improve one thing in my life. Alcohol and drugs aren’t some “cunning and powerful” bogeymen to me, they’re just things I abstain from. Like I abstain from piercing my ballsack, or ordering anchovies on my pizza. And I don’t have a beef with people who drink or get high-I mean, more power to to you if you can handle that stuff it just doesn’t work well with me. I mean, fuck, as long as a person respects my choice not to get wasted I respect their choice to drink or smoke weed or whatever. Well, except if somone is a cokehead or junkie. People like that I just don’t deal with because they tend to be slimy due to the drugs. I’d say that about meth users too but nobody out here is really into that shit anyways.
But it kills me when people make it a forgone conclusion that because sometimes there’s beer in the fridge here I must be getting drunk. Thats like saying if everybody was sticking a coconut up their ass I surely would as well. Fuck that shit. I may be a whiny bitch when fucked up shit happens to me, but I’m not that weak. And that’s what all this comes down to-my continued abstinence, the fact that I haven’t slit my wrists since my whole life basically fell apart, that I get up in the morning and try to do shit to improve my situation…it’s all because I aint going out like a pussy, like a fucking weak ass motherfucker. All this shit, all the shit in my entire life leading up till now hasn’t killed me it’s only made me capable of dealing with further adversity without running to a needle and spoon or bottle of booze.
And motherfuckers I’m proud of that. I’m not trying to sound like I’m egoing out or claiming to be Mr. Billy Badass, I’m just saying I’ve been making it through all this bullshit stone cold sober 24-7 without anything to numb myself. And for me thats an accomplishment since I used to not even be able to break a fucking shoelace without shooting dope over it.
I love leaving title lines that have nothing to do with anything I’m writing about.
Things are moving at a crawl, but at least they’re moving. I’m tired of all this already though. But I guess it’s not as bad as it was because I’m no longer feeling the desire to play in traffic on a daily basis.
I’ve been using Windows computers when I can use a computer over about the past two months and it’s just glaring how suboptimal they are compared to my trusty Linux box (which I may never see again). Really, I’m not going to go into point by point specifics but Linux just puts the beat downs on Windows. Sadly, my current roomate would be using Linux were it not for his wife who won’t switch. I think that pretty much sums up why Linux has about a 1 percent market share. People are just used to Windows and refuse to switch to something else even if that something is better. Watch, it’ll be the same thing with Windows 7-it’s different so you can bet people will bitch that it’s not as good as Vista or XP. Yes, people will bitch that it’s not Vista, as craptacular as Vista is. You see the same thing with Linux only at a much accelerated pace because of the speed of releases and innovation in the Linux world. But it still happens. Like that Ubuntu user still using Dapper Drake and complaining that all later releases are just bloat. Or the whole KDE4 debacle, eventhough given KDE4 does really suck. But yeah, it happens.
Anyways, my toes are fucking cold sitting here in bare feet and I’m going to go put some fuzzy socks on and go read Beneath the Paving Stones. All my other Situationist books are in storage, so this one will have to do. But first I’m going to eat a pretzel and thank the 700 foot tall blue skinned demon wearing a necklace of human skulls I pray to that I won’t be sleeping in a newspaper recycling bin tonight.
“You used to laugh about, everybody that was hanging out…now you don’t talk so loud, now you don’t seem so proud, about having to be scrounging your next meal..how does it feel?”
-Bob Dylan Like a Rolling Stone
Fucking bullshit. Loads and loads of it. Two weeks I’ve been back out here and little has substantially changed. I’m still without a place of my own to live, I’m fucking broke, I haven’t been able to land a job and the prospects are dim for getting one, I want to fucking curl up and die on a daily basis and I’m lucky to spend five minutes with my wife every couple of days.
And if anyone tells me to “hang in, things will get better” I will assault them with a cheese grater. Things will not get better. Things will never get better. Better doesn’t count when it’s a lesser degree of fucked upness. Better doesn’t count when you’re sleeping on someone elses couch instead of at a shelter or in a cardboard box. Better doesn’t count when getting welfare will put you in a higher income bracket. Better isn’t being proud of your new apartment in the projects. Better isn’t copping out to a sudden moral high ground because you’re not selling drugs to make money-not because you’re not doing it, but because you don’t have the startup capital or a dope man who will front. Better isn’t staying sober when the only reason you don’t drink is because you cant afford a bottle and you know anyways if you got drunk you’d probably just slit your wrists.
Naw, shit aint better. It’s just continuing it’s long slimy crawl down the sewerpipe.
Well, I can’t say things have quite worked out perfectly, but they are much, much better. I have a place to stay for a little while and my roomates are particularly rad people, so I’m much less the panicky freak that I was while in Erie. Of course, the biggest aid to my overall wellness meter is that I got to see my wife again and she’s staying with her father which is only about a half hours walk away.
Certainly while I was going through it all during my time in Erie I had the support of my friends out there and the daily phone conversations with my beloved spouse certainly helped me from going off the deep end…but also it helped to hear from my peops out here in cyberia when I’d go to the library to use the computer. So, you know, big ups to everyone here in internetland who had kind words of encouragement for me while I was getting kicked in the balls repeatedly by fate, or The Universe, or A Big Mean Diety or whatever you want to call it. I owe my current non-strait jacketed circumstances very much to my patient wife, my little brother, sister and cousin, the Erie squad-Bill and Jan, Eddie, The Legendary Joe, Tara, Mike the mayor of Starbucks, Tyrone and Rob-and everybody I’m in touch with over the ‘net due to this blog; Trent, John and Mesanna. It’s one thing to have people commiserate when you’re having OS difficultys, its quite another when those same folks are there to encourage you when your world just about falls apart. It’s about enough to make me change my mind about the internet being a tool of Satan.
Of course, I’ve still got a ways to go before I have all the pieces picked up and can situate my family in some sort of permanent residence again, but at least for now I don’t have to worry about finding an abandominium to sleep in. Plus, my roomates are RPG gamers so I get to play my first session of D&D in about 25 years!
Well, I made it back from Erie.
I’m still technically homeless, but I have a place to stay for a little while.
Right now it’s late and I need to sleep. Will update as possible.
So, tomorrow night at midnight I board the dirty dog for a trip back to NE Pa. The month I’ve been here in Erie has been good, it’s still an awesome city by a big assed lake and it was nice to spend time here again. Would have been nicer had the circumstances not been so patently fucked, but all the same it was pretty cool. Got to see some old friends, made some new ones and did a whole lot of thinking. Not all of it forced by the fucking insane shit that was going on in my life even.
Anyways, within 48 hours I’ll be back in Duryea and I’ll get to see Dee again. Thats my point of focus right now, not whats going to happen a week and a half from now when I’ll be out on the streets or in a homeless shelter. All I’ve wanted all month is to be with her again and finally we’ll be able to spend time together in the eye of the hurricane so to speak.
I know eventually the shit will stop hitting the fan and I’ll look back on all of this and kick myself for not documenting it better.
