Thursday, August 7, 2014

I can't drive the bus on benzos

I originally said this on facebook.

I didn't want to say "Hey everyone, I got a job driving public transit.  Thanks for all of your support."
Because well..it needed to be edgier?

I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me but I know the people who know me must be at least slightly concerned for the people of Flagstaff with me behind the wheel of a large, heavy moving object. 

This rare post was intended to allow others to congratulate me for finding a job after 4 months of nothing.  This is kind of pathetic already but it wasn't nearly bleak or ominous enough. It obviously needed to be a stupid concession and an ode to the remaining influence and importance of substances in my "grotesque failure of an adult life".  For some reason.

I of course commented that after reading about common "benzo" withdrawal disorders on wikipedia my previous year made so much more sense.  All the externalizing, over-reacting, delivery ordering, dry-mouth, severe depression and loss of interest in anything worth living for could finally be explained and diagnosed by me the expert. "

It was the drugs I USED TO take for anxiety guys!  Sorry if I lashed out at you or acted really inappropriately. Its because I have been suffering from withdrawals up until recently and didn't even know it.  I have to stop taking these again now so I can drive a bus safely.  OMG Wish me luck!"

I heard every person I have ever met roll their eyes.  And realized I had better check myself before I wreck myself. I went ahead and deleted my girl interrupted/prozac nation/rachel getting married moment about 30 minutes after posting it.   A trifle embarassed by my very grotesque facebook disaster.

But I have to re write it now.  It seems like a good idea to try not to be ashamed of finding a job.  Especially when I thought the past was going to make it impossible.  I had given up when this happened.  I was in shambles and the drugs.  I don't know where they fit in or if they do but this job didn't land in my lap.  I found it, considered it, determined it and earned it on these drugs.  In the midst of psychological chaos and neurological warfare. 

And now all I want is to write something some one will like.  Or post something that will make some one laugh.  Maybe a story about something that doesn't involve this version of me that is broken and inhuman. 

So I'm going to try this status again.  Save as statusquo.png Extra points for serving a burn on all the door slammers.







Sunday, July 3, 2011

Thursday, June 16, 2011

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

edream

 Alison Scarpulla

e dream via iphone on April 3rd, the night I went to the tree house and then to get a second chance.

Damn if I didn't have dreams so sinister that only when I finally found consciousness, could I immediately appreciate how much better reality is.  This series of dreams haunted me and my time on the premises if not only because the entire experience was about my time on the premises.  The premise revolved around my premises.  The guest house I have been hiding in.

In the reality of recent milieu and leisure I  changed and redecorated of mi casa a little because everything needed to change this year.

This dream changed it again countless times.  I've seen it two dimensional, I've seen it with glowing white walkways, I've seen it above and below ground.  I've seen it inhabited by ghosts and replicas and dream posit of the imminent new neighbors who happened to actually be hours from moving in up front.  It was completely isolated in space, and then it was in an alley in San Francisco .
Every time I woke it was in my house.  The deeper I dripped into it the less clear my surroundings were.  The ghosts and I discussing in depth the impossibility of anything in existence outside the premises.  I spent hours and days searching for anything tangible that made sense even remotely in one of these dreams.  I sought fuzzily with my mouth full of dream spit any remote semblance of familiarity.  And then, awoke to the recollection that I was supposed to be tangible, physical, familiar. Raising my hands I see they are melted down lumps of turf like soil and there is no tattoo.  This realization made me lucid enough to end the formidable escapade.  But even in waking I couldn't escape.

The experience clouded my psyche with hopelessness and nihilism.  I spent the day pacing around alone in my real life completely different environment searching for various possessions and misplacing others cyclically for hours feeling like the day was another chapter of the dream.

It's only now, sitting amongst the carefree youthful attendees of the juliette\soft shoulder_\water\___show that I've been able to escape the dread.  Enough to thoroughly document it for my own sake.  In case I forget what a relief it can be and how completely necessary it can be to step out of the comfort zone.  No matter who I am work to.  No matter how unwelcome I may or may make myself out to be, as unpleasant as my existence's disruption may be to what is natural in the places I will go,  I can seize any reason to work on leaving what has become so familiar.

\|[](/\/£[^

edream post script edit :  While I am on the subject of surreal dreams ask me about the tornado one I had a week later and I will be happy to describe that menace as well as I have near complete recollection of it.  Or don't.  You certainly weren't in it.  Unless your name is Pam Wedemeyer.

http://youtu.be/evMVTZgxyVk

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Girlmates

In this blog I'm going to write a lovely haiku for every single woman I have ever lived with and that never gave birth to me.  Keep in mind I am sober.  Should I go chronological or alphabetical?

Thank you ladies for all of the inspiration for my blog especially if you were nice to me.  I might try this again when I'm not as sad and lonely without you!  I'm not naming any names!
   
smiling advice
There's no hope like I'm
 dreaming nothing sinister
love you until then

this tooth was shy
Shot gun weddings baby
I made it this far with no
last name changes me

sugar tooth
 I just get so tired
and no amount techno
Standing up asleep

paging dr. daughter
Oh Ehm Gee Eightch Bee Oh
I would love to wash myself
don't mind if I do

angel food
Milagro enters
starts shakin' for my bacon
added insulation

cracked porcelain
Hey that fucking loo
Fancy running into you
do you like my weave?

whats her name
I don't remember
anything about you except
you warned me about

pretty teeth
we hear each other
thanks for showing me Nepal
lotus two thousand

birthday eyes
 you had facebook first
before anyone else at
the thunderbird 

feels on wheels
compliant and fat
you know where I'm at because
I'm perched up here now

boy eater
You have no muscles
cannibalized moisturized
no home for them here

shame eater
please be my mommy
 a gentleman of the night
pulverized carcass

sweet citrus lemon lime mornings
an official low
for hygiene and digital
 hair photography

Whats wrong with you
I'm throwing quarters
in the middle of your fight
I'm a bad person

Fangs
play fetch with the dog
with the fags that I wanted
oops I meant fangs duh

Ambien boners
before the ambien 
before the boners you said
I don't need this shit

Snaggletooth
live nudes presents you
multilingual girly girl
not my girlfriend trend

Sister shit
with friends like you
Who needs enemas? Ha Ha
Laughing my ass off

Monday, February 21, 2011

Alaska!

A quasi political Rant du Sara Palin

I discovered that some one in Alaska had a look at my blog and it made me paranoid.  I think Alaska is great but very mysterious!

I do like Sarah Palin. I think she is fascinating.   She has me a little nervous about who saw my blog in Alaska since we're friends on fb.  I would totally watch her reality show if she did the right thing and stayed out of national politics and the media and focused on her family in private.  I think it would make her a more likeable character if she just gracefully bowed out of the game and hid from the spotlight. 

In hindsight I think its ridiculous to link her to the shooting in Tucson. Cross hairs are used all over the fucking place, get over it. I'm glad I didn't just jump on that bandwagon.  I think the people that did made liberals look rash, naive and reactionary.  Which many of us are.  Oh well.  Shitty panties.


Unrelated advice of the day:
If you are a person who tries to dance and has no idea what to do with your arms, may I highly reccomend using crutches?   Yeah, it totally solves the problem.

Sunday, February 6, 2011

The Inkwell Club Studios: NAME THAT INKWELL

The Inkwell Club Studios: NAME THAT INKWELL: "DID YOU KNOW THAT MICKEY MOUSES NAME WAS ALMOST MORTIMER MOUSE? ( SO THE LEGEND GOES) IT IS SAID THAT WALT WANTED THE MOUSE WE ALL KNOW AND ..."