the good drug?

yesterday i was reminded that buddhists see life as suffering.

they found a way to deal with it.

so yeah, maybe im not different, unique, or especially tormented.   maybe everybody suffers internally as i do.

...
i like this library, and college in general.  but i still cant find the motivation.
its forced me to reconsider that which i once had strong convictions against- mood stabilizers.

aderol.    

because, lately ive no convictions at all.  
im an alcoholic, though be it a trend.

and im dont want to fail eng 102 again, but ive left myself no other choice.

two days ago my writing instructor dropped me from her class,  i cant write now anyway cause-

my fingers are bandaged from utter stupidity, and my heart aches from small town blues... women two.

maybe three now, that im juggleing, the work ball has been tossed, possibly falling soon.

its cold time now

im glad nobody reads this, and at this point, i hope nobody ever does,    
my mole skine is almost empty, as in, nearly full.   ill either buy another, or turn all my notes to self virtual.  
i made the mistake of going on to annies facebook.  
it just made me sink further.    its jared, smart.     sigh.
this is so typically stupid, i broke up with her, and now i spend hours considering suicide.  
keaton put it well.   i hope this is the worst itll get  before equalizing to something i can live with.  

I dont regret it, and  im not wanting to go back, its just,...  what is it?    whats my problem?
is it the fact that she is beautiful?  nah, and i really do believe that there are myraid amounts of men who would be more compatible with annie,  jareds perfect.  
 okay so why the fuck am i depressed again?   i never know, its just this self perpetuating mental state.  Initiated by some trigger, the smallest, or biggest thing,  im writing just to fill space,

what do i really want to say?  to myself i guess.   

Why should i not end my life?    list of reasons-

playing music.....

....

is that it?
its crazy to think that 911 happened half my lifetime ago.

i guess music is the only thing i care about, i have nothing else that i strive for.    and for some reason i have no desire to chase any woman,  or man obviously.   i keep asking my self, but no, i dont think im gay.   
what the hell.     im totally just a puppet,    a second ago i my keyboard typed things i didnt intend to.   my fingers moving with no thought, so where does the energy to move them come from.   my theory, other peoples conscience, whether deliberate of chaotic,  theres something going on here.   
and the idea that im not in complete control makes me what nothing.   theres not much point to my existance,   now im getting emo again.     shit,      i hope this institution doesnt drive me to madness, or worse.        
aight its getting close, im closing this for the month, smoking a cig, and returning to class.    writing class, of course,
I may add writing to that list.    i like it, but its completely futile form of gratification. 

whatever, im done

all because of two dinner parties.

abigale,  this cat, which is my representation for life, right now.   She keeps me from getting a good nights sleep, stinks like digested wet food, and is always reminding me that i should be petting and taking good care, instead of smoking cigarettes or "wasting" time however. 
     today, for the first time in several months, its this blog.   . .
I just dont know what to think anymore,  wait, ill take that back.  I know for certain now.... just not the reprocussions.  
How many people are like this?  everyone past maturity?  and if so, that must mean i recently woke up as a man.   finally, they thought.  

Why doesnt anyone want to talk anymore?  trust me, i wont freak out, no matter what you tell me you did.

annie...man-y,  bannanie.   fe-fi-fo, looks like size does matter...xoxo....and i sure learned a lot. 

to the 6 others around that table.................thanks for all the time. 

.....but i still dont like the corn salad.

i think its been at least 8-10 months

since ive written on this all but forgotton blog, and since ive been back in tucson.

its only been out one month since the last time i hated myself, but that time wasnt nearly as bad as today, the past three days.

im still here in my tucson hell, unable to escape to my prescott paradise. and the only reason i feel confident writing this in the living room where all these people that are supposed to be my friend currently reside, is, they care about me, just a tiny bit more than i care about this blog.

this is all stupid, i realize, however. and you, if anyone does in fact read this, shouldnt worry.

this is not a real hell. i just have better things to do. i just regret coming down here at all.

timing sucks, and not having weed sucks a whole lot worse than this blog. so what do i do?

Stop complaining bitch! you are just beating yourself up, theres nowhere else to be but here, with these people you havent seen in a camels age.

this friend that drove me down here, more like kidnapped

his girl, my other friend, shes cool, filled with lies, and love, but she works all the time,

my ex g friends mother, diagnosed manic depressive- yeah shes real high, high pitched and high strung, never ending conversations about her new compound here, and...and....and....and....and...

and my ex g friend herself...... the closer to her i am, the closer i am to hurting my self.

and her new b friend- the one that stole my first love, then intruded on my ex and i , then stole my ex, then got me arrested, then...then...then....then.....

and then theres this hitchiker staying here.... he's awesome, were getting along great.