Google, the new 'Oz', prompts me to post a title preceding this prose. Who works at Google? Does everyone there have a title to every one of their days? Probably so. I imagine them to be uniquely boring people who are capable of encapsulating anything. I have no doubt that Google could explain the entire Middle Ages within the span of a URL. Something like Darkfeudalplaguechurchrules.com I could never do that; I could never work at Google. I will say I am completely 100% googlized and it was entirely voluntary.
In 1969 and part of 70 my wife and I were technically homeless. We never slept on the street or in a car. We were not limited to parental domesticity. Many friends offered, insisted, enjoyed her and I living in their basements, spare rooms and in one case porch. After she became ill I never again was without my own home. Essentially I provided myself and Susan with a place to live via friends until we desired our own place because she became ill. From that day until the age of sixty I lived within the confines of my own castle walls. Being one of the crowd known to be addicted to dope and a self proclaimed crack head at the age of sixty (what crowd was that? you ask) I had to surrender independent living at that advanced (but still 'hot') age. I lost everything in life to drug addiction... twice. This last time that included my home and at that age the parents were already gone. So i live in another man's house. I have for five years.
There's no point pursuing that thought. I am never honest in print when it may be seen without my controlling the situation nor when I am vulnerable in any way to the situation which is the topic of the writing. Blah Blah Foo-Frah. I should just say I'm paranoid about writing. I want to. I want to blow the lid off the topic. Oh I want to go home to San Francisco. I want great wealth. I want legendary sexual prowess. I want to shut up and be content.
I expect that one day all of these wants will be satisfied by Google.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Friday, January 3, 2014
Did God Plan on Cock?
My conversation with God this morning is full of questions. It always is. Why can't I control the size and girth of my cock? Really. I think there would be less war. Is it so much to ask for? If i can determine when my eyes close, when my muscles flex, when my head moves why is it that I cannot control when my cock is hard. You created men to be ruled by their cocks. I usually have a lot of cock questions for Him. What's all this bullshit about arthritis, excess stomach acid, hair loss, permanent tooth loss. What do you mean I can't grow new teeth. Can a shitty little reptile grow a new tail. What's up with that God? What the fuck is all this shit about being poor or hungry or celibate or lonely and don't turn it around on me. I'm not down for that anymore. I did not create a creature that has the mind and intelligence to manipulate the Universe but is tied to daily shitting and pissing and eating and drinking and lust and desire. All that shit wasn't my idea.
If you're God you must be right and then I'm wrong. Come on God why can't I take all the drugs I want and drink all the beer I want without getting addicted or fucking up my life. Really. What the hell did you create drugs for anyway. You are the biggest bartender I know of. Drug dealer too. I imagine I'll be punished for my insolence. In a sneaky way; it will seem to be naturally occurring. Or better yet something that is my own fault. Oh You love that one. Do You not? When I stop to think of it God, I really love You. I mean I love You and that's no froo-frah; no bullshit; no patronizing because I am supposed to love You. I've thought a lot about it for several score and I love You. Even when I don't know it. Yeah I love You but I don't always like You. If you think about it even Jesus didn't say Like God with all your heart; just love Him. It's easier to love you God when I know I don't have to like You.
If you're God you must be right and then I'm wrong. Come on God why can't I take all the drugs I want and drink all the beer I want without getting addicted or fucking up my life. Really. What the hell did you create drugs for anyway. You are the biggest bartender I know of. Drug dealer too. I imagine I'll be punished for my insolence. In a sneaky way; it will seem to be naturally occurring. Or better yet something that is my own fault. Oh You love that one. Do You not? When I stop to think of it God, I really love You. I mean I love You and that's no froo-frah; no bullshit; no patronizing because I am supposed to love You. I've thought a lot about it for several score and I love You. Even when I don't know it. Yeah I love You but I don't always like You. If you think about it even Jesus didn't say Like God with all your heart; just love Him. It's easier to love you God when I know I don't have to like You.
Sunday, December 22, 2013
Christmas the Feast of Neverchange
Christmas. Less than 72 hours. My 66th Christmas on earth in the physical plane. Rather fucked up skeletal system from neck to feet is an inheritance. Where does that come from? Five years clean and sober now; six years from Angle Inn trailer park and the beginning of this, my eighth, life in this cycle of Harry Michael Freeman. Christmas is exactly the same this year clean five years as it was after using five years. Clean...Using... Christmas is the same. That is a sad statement. Six months now since I stopped smoking. No tobacco at all for six months; this is a first in 55 years. If I can resurrect from drugs and alcohol a second time, if I can quit smoking then I should be able to conquer my inability to function in society. I go to seven NA meetings per week and have no one to talk to. I am accepting that I am alone because I am supposed to be alone and will be alone; the only person who may have been able to own me is dead; now I cannot belong to anyone. Blessed is he who is alone. If he uses that solitude according to its true purpose.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
HOW THE LOTTERY HAS NOT CHANGED MY LIFE
Work six days a week; social security early retirment (50%cut cause early minus $200 cause they say I'm in arrears) and my total monthly income nets $200 per month less than unemployment. This was not the plan. Is there any way out of this other than the lottery?
Friday, September 7, 2012
What the fuck was all that Froo-Fra about?
Wow, forgot about this blog; it's five years later and i wonder what was all that froo-fra about? All that bullshit? That was the end of using and trying to get clean. Damn this blog can be my first step forever.
Friday, October 8, 2010
October 8, 2010
Holy shit. I forgot about this blog and just rediscovered it. I am selling cars at Fast Eddies Sensible Rentals. I have my own car again....independence. Teeth are worse than ever, I can't talk without the bottom bridge falling out; it comes out with soup or ice cream now. Bill is going to Ireland today and I celebrated 2 years last night. Turning Point tonight, did Sea Bright last Friday and celebrated. Everything changes...nothing changes.
Friday, May 1, 2009
May 1, 2009
Time to restart this; it is one of those totally frustrating moments ...it 's the nite of seabright again after a public announcement. The F is just arrived; the takeover is w/o recourse; total frustration from not being able to call my own shots and cannot come/go as I please; this moment alone is reason enough to never use again.
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