Tuesday, April 18, 2006, 09:56 PM - Drrruuggsss
The thing I've noticed about the defendants that use drugs is that each type kills off a piece of their psyche.
Marihuana kills off ambition. Most defendants who abuse Marihuana aren't mean or cruel, but it just seems like the psychologically stop aging at whatever age they were when they started smoking pot. Thus, you have a lot of 40. year-old potheads that still live with their live with their parents and work $6/ hour jobs.
Cocaine kills off empathy. People on cocaine do vicious and cruel things to the people they love. They turn into nasty predators.
Heroin kills off one's soul. the people addicted to heroin really are the walking dead. Their skin shrivels, their teeth fall out, and they become frighteningly gaunt. The sacred fire that makes one truly alive just gutters and extinguishes. After that, a heroin addict just staggers around looking for the next fix. they have sold their souls.
Personally, I think people who SELL heroin should be imprisoned in the deepest dungeons of the Yucca Flats salt mine. They should never be allowed to seethe sun.
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 2.9 / 2302 )Monday, April 17, 2006, 09:03 PM - Cool Stuff
I can honestly say that I had the kind of Easter holiday that I enjoy the most: a nice church service and a good dinner with Doug.
The church service was great. I had a five-bell assignment and also sung tenor. The Choirmaster's selections were ultra-tough as always, but we pulled it off flawlessly!
Then, Doug and I visited two friends for a while before we went out for Easter dinner. We had ham steak and mashed potatoes at the Nautiloid. It was just Doug and I -- no crazy relatives. Very nice! No fuss, no muss/
[ 4 comments ] ( 14 views ) | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 3 / 1643 )Saturday, April 15, 2006, 08:05 PM - Cool Stuff
Doug and I had an *awesome* time in New York today. We saw "Three Penny Opera", starring Alan Cumming. The play was very strange and had a lot of cursing. The musical score was quite odd.The lighting was bizarre. It featured the life and times of Mack the Knife.
We bought cheap seats, which meant that our ears popped when we climbed the stairs! Our seats were so *small* that they could double as torture devices.
But other than uncomfortable seats, we had a real BLAST!
http://indigohalo.com/pblog/index.php
[ 1 comment ] ( 6 views ) | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 2.9 / 1484 )Friday, April 14, 2006, 08:16 AM - Dissociation & Switching
I’m feeling better today. Yesterday and the day before were pretty dissociative. I know that I became Halo for a while. But I am my usual identity today.
Not that anyone cares, or anything...
[ 3 comments ] ( 20 views ) | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 3 / 2026 )Thursday, April 13, 2006, 08:42 AM - Dissociation & Switching, halo's thoughts
i hate my innate cowardice. i see in my mind the things i should do to myself to exact punishment for my continued existence. i see myself slitting my wrists and watching my blood flow forth. or cutting my throat and having it end all the faster. i am a coward. i cannot make myself do what must be done.
i am a ghost that haunts this body. i am a remnant. i am a forgotten and leftover fragment. all that is left is this shadow, this death magic.
if only someone would shoot me or poison me. i am a hollow space where someone good and whole once lived and breathed. i am just a diminished ghost of no consequence. but i cannot make the body’s heart stop by will alone.
i am a thing of darkness and emptiness. i do not know why i exist.
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 3 / 1608 )Wednesday, April 12, 2006, 08:57 PM - Dissociation & Switching, halo's thoughts
there are times when i realize what a fraud i am, and a monster. i am a creature that brings forth the power of darkness and death magic into the world. i have the power of entropy. from me comes corruption and decay. i hate all that i am. i am a remnant.
when i touch things, they fall apart and break down.
when i touch people, they sicken and waste.
my soul casts a shadow into the spirit world. people lose their faith because of me.
i hate myself.
i am a useless coward. and i am a curse incarnate. i am an incarnation of darkness and death magic. i would beg to be shot in the head. i cannot do it myself. i am a coward.
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 2.7 / 1995 )Wednesday, April 12, 2006, 08:20 AM - Cool Stuff
So far, the diet/exercise plans that Doug and I are using *really* seem to be working! Doug is on the Jenny Craig diet and does a 2-mile power walk about three times per week. I’m on a low-fat diet and do a 5 km run at the gym three times per week.
The result? Doug has lost 19 pounds in two months and I’ve lost five pounds. Very cool!
Right now, I weigh 197 and would *like* to weigh 185. Doug now weighs 310 and would *like* to weigh 250. It just goes to show you that diet and exercise (not fads and funky herbal supplements) really can make a difference!
[ 1 comment ] ( 2 views ) | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 3 / 1321 )Tuesday, April 11, 2006, 03:18 PM - nightmares
For a really bizarre nightmare, try THIS one on for size:
I was in an old, dirty, dilapidated house. It looked like it had been unoccupied for quite a while. There were a few scraps of furniture that had been left behind, most notably a dusty old couch that was missing a cushion. The lighting was poor, as if by cheap 60-watt bulbs.
As I walked into the abandoned kitchen, I was assaulted by an Undead cat-humanoid that grabbed me by the throat. I suppose it was intent on choking me. I was able to reach a kitchen knife and I cut the monster’s arm. It dropped me to the floor.
We moved to opposite sides of the kitchen and started throwing knives at each other (and where were all this cutlery coming from anyway?) My *real* cat, a Himalayan furball named Scrunchie, made the mistake of wandering into the hail of missiles and was clipped by one of the knives. He wasn’t hurt badly, but it made him yell “MMMRROOOOW!”
While my mind was occupied by the welfare of my cat, the Undead cat-like monster fled. To where, I do not know.
[ 1 comment ] ( 11 views ) | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 3 / 1949 )Sunday, April 9, 2006, 06:43 PM - Church Stuff
Everyone at church, myself included, really likes the Choir Master. She's a classically trained musician with a masters' degree fromthe Peabody Institute. She was also a child prodigy who learned how to play the piano at age 5. She's of good, solid German stock, which naturally makes her a perfectionist. Most of the time, that is a GOOD thing. Around the Christian High Holy Days, it can be a real drag.
the problem comes from the fact that she sort of forgets that we are an amative choir that are volunteers and have no formal music training. With that in consideration, we are probably the BEST unpaid/ non-professional choir in Maryland. A big part of our success is her leadership. That said, she has the habit of assigning music for us to learn that is beyond our skill level to play. We practice and practice and practice. Then the Choir Master starts getting edgy and nervous when it starts looking like we won't get the piece correct before we have to play it for REAL.
Today was Palm Sunday, and I had three pieces of music thatwere pretty much beyond our skill level. One was a handbell piece in which she spliced two really difficult compositions together to makeone excruciatingly difficult assignment. My part included ELEVEN bells! Then there were two vocal pieces - one in Greek and one in Latin. The tenor set was above the staff about 75 % of the time, and I felt like I had been strangled by the time we finished singing.
The GOOD news is that we pulled it off somehow at the last minute. The only time we got it right was when we had to do it for real. This means that we didn't look like idiots. The bad news is that the Choir Master will up the ante even higher when Christmas comes around! Aieeee!
[ 4 comments ] ( 19 views ) | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 2.9 / 1095 )Friday, April 7, 2006, 02:51 PM - nightmares
I had a rather sad dream last night that ended badly. In this dream, I was not a human being at all, but instead I was a spirit sent to help a woman who was in an abusive relationship with her husband. Her husband was an emotionally cruel and manipulative man who also beat her on a regular basis.
The woman was a petite lady with pale blonde hair. She probably weighed 90-100 pounds. Her husband was about 6’2”, 250 pounds, black hair, and dark eyes. He kept her in place by humiliating her and convincing her that she was worthless and powerless. She had not been allowed to work, even though she was intelligent and had a college education. The man was some kind of blue-collar bozo who envied and feared her talents, which I suppose partially explained his motive for keeping her down and helpless. Their home was in a rural setting, so there were few nearby resources for help.
The odd thing about being a spirit was that I could read minds and sense motives. I could walk through walls, but I could not manipulate physical objects. I did have an additional power: I could absorb another’s pain.
And that, I believed, was what I was sent to do. I stepped into the same physical space that the woman occupied. I found that I could see out of her eyes and mine at the same time. Rather than accessing her thoughts directly, I connected with the part of her mind that stored the emotional overlays to her memories.
Hers was a deep hurt. Her husband was not the first man to deeply use and abuse her. Her sadness, shame, and misplaced guilt were as heavy as any chains. I absorbed the caustic energy of those emotions into my being. For a moment, I felt what she felt. It was sad and terrible. But the moment passed, and I disengaged from her mind. I think she sensed my presence, however.
My idea was that by absorbing her sadness and shame, she would gain the strength of will to leave her husband and start a new life for herself. What I did not expect to happen was that white-hot rage would fill the emotional void my assistance had created. She walked into the kitchen and grabbed a big knife. She then went onto the front porch, where her husband was sitting on a chair and drinking a beer, and plunged the knife into his chest with a force that I found incredible for a woman so slight of build. The man made one gurgling scream and reached for his wife’s throat. She panicked and ran away from the house without even looking ahead.
She ran down the driveway and into the street just as a large truck approached at high speed. She was struck and killed.
I had failed in my mission. Not only had the woman died, but she had become a murderer before she died. It was just dismal.
[ add comment ] | [ 0 trackbacks ] | permalink |
( 3 / 1938 )Back Next
