"To laugh is to risk appearing the fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out to others is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk exposing your true self.
To place your ideas, your dreams before a crowd is to risk their loss.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To live is to risk dying.
To hope is to risk despair.
To try is to risk failure."

Author Unknown

I found out yesterday that my sister was right; at the end of the day the only person you can count on is yourself after all. Everyone you know leaves you, lies to you, lies behind your back, betrays you, lies between their smiling teeth.
I give up on people. I can't risk losing anything else anymore.
I'm stopping putting my faith in other people once and for all. I'm tired of the disappointment.

500mg

I felt hollow, physically hollow, so much so that I felt I could fly away, if my head wasn't weighing me down. I moved, I moved so much. I couldn't not move, I twitched, I jerked, I clenched and flexed everything, EVERYTHING. And then I opened my eyes. I looked at the walls, that's what interested me the most. I stared for a moment, maybe two. The walls were alive- no, the lines on the walls were alive. The walls are and were bare, but thin, fractal lines danced on all the walls, and seemed to sparkle pale green and blue in the lighter parts. My left arm stuck straight up, I was unable to get it down, though I could still move my fingers. With my other arm, I reached out and touched the wall, home of the dancing line people. And what luck! The lines surpassed the wall and made their way to my fingers. Have you ever touched one of those lightning orb things? With the purple lightning dancing all around from that little ball in the middle? It seemed so much like that, except the lightning was black and gray, could touch me, and had a louder buzz. My body was in upheaval, but the fingers that touched the dancing lines was steady as could be. I let go of these dancing lines and like a clump of wild hair suspended in water began to float and jut about in the air. I tried to catch this wonder, but they slipped away from my grasp.
I stood up from the love seat and began to walk around, my gaze darting from wall to unreal wall.
A voice, which sounded digitally slowed down and deepened, told me that it was time for the movie. I got myself together and laced up my boots. The ride to the theater went by in fast motion, but that's about all I remember. My mother asked me what CD's I had put on my iPod. Afraid to make her wait, I answered promptly by reading aloud the three destinations of some highway sign, forgetting what question I was answering. My voice felt weak and tired, as my lungs and ribcage were under great suppression from the drug. Looking around for whoever I was answering, my sister and our two friends gave me confused looks. I guess my mother wasn't actually there at all.
The movie we saw, Hancock, wasn't really Hancock. It was a confusing blur of Hancock and flashbacks from the movie we had seen the previous day, Iron Man. I had no idea what was happening because whenever they said 'Iron Man' I would wonder why they were doing so in Hancock, and vice versa. The only part I remember clearly was when someone had said "It's that Handjob guy!"
When the film ended, my friends and family had all agreed that it was stupid and a waste of their money. Although nothing about the movie I watched actually happened, I agreed, especially since if I said any different they'd call me a crack head.
Overwhelmed by the sedating effects of the drug, I went straight for my place of rest, the basement, and made myself comfortable on the couch nearest the wall. The walls of the basement were just pink insulation coated in a thick, transparent plastic. as I drifted off to sleep, I remember the wall next to my head bubbling and humming, and I'm pretty sure that it even spoke. I'm not sure what language it was in, but I slept assured that it was kindly and well-meaning.

I feel like I've been assimilated into a clockwork machine. People, events, conversations, actions, everything feels automatic. The sense of chaos and unpredictability are lost, somewhere distant from here. colors have become bland, sounds are dull, and people have become lifeless shells of what they may have once been. My surroundings reek with the stench of familiarity. I am alone, an astronaut trapped in a lifeless space of machines.

"We live together, we act on, and react to, one another; but always and in all circumstances we are
by ourselves. The martyrs go hand in hand into the arena; they are crucified alone. Embraced, the lovers desperately try to fuse their insulated ecstasies into a single self-transcendence; in vain. By its very nature every embodied spirit is doomed to suffer and enjoy in solitude. Sensations, feelings, insights, fancies - all these are private and, except through symbols and at second hand, incommunicable. We can pool information about experiences, but never the experiences themselves. From family to nation, every human group is a society of island universes. Most island universes are sufficiently like one another to Permit of inferential understanding or even of mutual empathy or "feeling into." Thus, remembering our own bereavements and humiliations, we can condole with others in analogous circumstances, can put ourselves (always, of course, in a slightly Pickwickian sense) in their places. But in certain cases communication between universes is incomplete or even nonexistent. The mind is its own place, and the Places inhabited by the insane and the exceptionally gifted are so different from the places where ordinary men and women live, that there is little or no common ground of memory to serve as a basis for understanding or fellow feeling. Words are uttered, but fail to enlighten. The things and events to which the symbols refer belong to mutually exclusive realms of experience."
Aldous Huxley

It is through a few works of mine that I hope to communicate the best I can, in my own fashion, things most ordinary people can't, or won't, experience.

1:04 AM: 2 7.5mg tablets of Zopiclone swallowed.
1:13 AM: The air begins to feel thicker, my head feels heavier; thoughts of Aldous Huxley still linger: I think I've fancies myself more alike him
1:15 AM: "White Rabbit" begins to play.
1:18 AM: The bitter metal taste arrives: It was expected, but not invited.
1:21 AM: I find myself more relaxed.
1:22 AM: "Acid Attack" is equally beautiful as "Coma White."
1:24 AM: "Terra + Luna" is not about the body or the balls, it IS about her face.
1:25 AM: Every deep inhale bring with it the taste of strong mint leaves. Everything around me feels dragged and pulled down with me, like I sink and everything else sinks to fix the ratio.
1:28 AM: I feel like I'm too slow. The bell has wrung and I still didn't finish my test. Is this a test?
1:29 AM: I must pace myself. The man at the mirror will just have to wait. I'm in bed.
1:31 AM: May I suckle your brain? OR YOUR COCK? "NO. NO. NO. NO. NO."
1:33/4: I mustn't stay here. I'm trapped. There are shadows they move they can see me I'm alone fill what is empty I am alone wanna fuck too tired build a new drug I'd like to leave please
1:37: The water tastes like shit again metalic mold mine munny Mommy? Daddy? No, not anymore...
1:38 More pure
1: 39 AM: Too clean too cold too blank too poetic too try to prose spun >stoned< Poppin'!!!! Poopin'?! Pork!! Maybe BOOM!
1:41: "Call Sign/Aleph" playing^
1:42: Good and they would "tell me 'why?'" Emily is a cunt whore them fuck KRaaaaaaiiiIii he's the king. Get off of me! Oh, it's you, you did things to me I remember I remember I remember
1:44: They took me, I'm back a changed man love kicks in the he means the world to me so hot the mouth fucking but before............................................ He's bad. D= Not you but I've been and now you have HER they make it looks so good I'm alonestill
1:47: I tried, but I'm trapped to >read< out of there the cuts are from you what you, what HE did to me violated of bury the evidence no, burn it Golden Arm Trio orso they say she is sure I'm too fast wide now new hide hiding in my distortions thE drugs too! Will you stop please......
1:51: "Borderline" has been playing. Still spoke to Enki. Vague. Says nO.
1:53: Dream a s leep distorted Z about my condition not like Leena KHP so confused
DRUGS another day don't forget the soma (or in my case the book) Read and learn smart abovethem filthy humans the non-self above them magical powers above you I can feel BETTER before nothing Prose?
1:57am: Gaia just sent me back from my near-sleep experience potency hide the evidence suddenly sleep question them questionsleep fill the hat Z? the words that make all the sence to me read too much JTHM Now they're here. Kennedy and Huxley, too. It's all good.
2:01am: Bob Marley and I are in love. It'sall good. My pen is dancing, paper stage keen audience drunken stammer pleasesall it's all good "I love, you Bob." "Don't w orry about athing."
2:03 AM: Deep breath blow up collapse keel over ashes fall my hair is ashes shock damage Michael Moore said so trun like an antalope out of control feel the bearskin pig jokes Fags! that didn't happen yet cock in mouth sneak around me "liar" "user" "molester"
2:07 am: a momentary lapse of reason thats impossible crammed letters damn a damn a gramme is Better? than a damn lapse fall gently Zopiclone
Pretty

(unreadable scribbles)
I REST
NOW 2:17 AM