different topics, ideas, for different age ranges and folks.

No stranger to danger...
[
Consequences of the "inability to feel shame." ]

how I almost died! (click to view)

My name is paul and I'm an addict.

Tuesday, February 17, 2015

Repeat offender by name of Pasha Silver.

Today, MY CHARGE FROM SEPTEMBER 5TH 2013, FINALLY IS WRAPPED UP. BROUGHT TO CONDITIONAL DISCHARGE. GIVEN I HAVE 75 PREVIOUS SCHEDULE ONE POSESSIONS BUT THIS ONE LEAVES ME BITTER. A FUCKING MAGGOT SPIC LOWERTIER HOSPITAL SNOB HANDS IT TO COPS SAYS ITS MINE AND THATS THAT.

Off, the rage. Despite serious medical incidents, I've nothing, nothing and noone to blame for where my life is. I'm a self-absorbed selfish fucking narcissist asshole. Who's lost the ability to create any type of bond.

REMINDERS TO SELF:

ENFORCE EXERCISE ON BROTHER WHEN IT GETS WARMER, HES GETTING BAD. i dont even know what else. this is foul.... "Thanks Mr. Doyle."

Scary, I'm 31 years of age. Phew.

This girl's singing is ON THE MONEY. She's singing a russian/armenian song called "Dolya Vorovskaya" She is flawless, beautiful.

Девушка поет Долю Воровскую


Monday, February 16, 2015

Alexis at 15(Met in H.S, no sex), mom's hometown girl at 21(married), sarah weiss sneaked into the 20's..

Yeah, nastya, I'm sorry. I'm a lowlife. teenage lust chicks, garbage. Let's look at where my life stands now.

HERE YOU GO:

I don't even need to see her photo.
Nothing.
Just PM spam coherent. :))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Text is my romanticism. Sex dulled me years ago.
chekhov, tolstoy, doestoevsky...got nothing on Sexta's capacity for insanely fast coherent IRCing.
Hammer dude, the fucken Hero! It's fucken all in the mind man... in the mind
She rapes doestoevsky with her story telling/typing.
yes my double ate those pies
Man, Woman, Shemale...can all blend into one 150 WPM typing in PM ...VAGINA.
Between every word is a single penetration.
Eventual orgasm of the mind.
That's how I see it, Bluntly.
* Chekhov you want heroin jpeg's. There you go. Mine.


My name is paul and I'm a narcissist. I got one day clean. Thank you for letting me share.

Clock doesn't turn back.


Sunday, February 15, 2015

Knowing not long is left, it don't bother me one bit. ill pop pills even more excessively, etc.

yep. that's that. The Final Curtain.

Existentialism aside, Russia's current news

Perhaps my ability to play piano as a kid, foreclaimed 'photographic memory" that a guy in rehab told me I had back in 2009 all wen't down the drain BECAUSE. This entails a seperate paragraph.


I prefer italian ladies. I've never been with one and to prove this is correct, I will freudiangly explain. They say every man marries his own mother. Well, I'm hetero. I like them "sexually" as well as character. further detail requires homophobic remarks.

Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Damn man, I must be an athletic champion of sorts(proof in the post).

I can't believe what's become of me, after a night doin the samething, I figured i'd IV some amphetamine with very short in-between breaks. Intervals roughly 15min, I told myself I would do this till there is "Noticeable" Discomfort in me physically. Problem is, I had gone through an absurd amount without anything serious. So i thought, fucking sweet, I'm superman. Then just to amuse myself not safety-concerns, I put on the electronic pulse measurer. Pulse was fluctuating 15up/15down sometimes. Then this toy told me I had at one point reached 182!!!!! took aspirin, beta-blocker to be safe. BECAUSE A FATAL PULSE IS 220 MINUS UR AGE. Which means fatal for me is at 189.  the meter read 182, at one point. i'm not joking. Thinking about it just now, one time i read a guy 'bragging" how he topped out at 178. "bell-ringer, cocaine". what a moron, he was about die young by a pretty HORRIBLE pain, cardiac arrest. Yet this didn't stop him ffrom excitedly about, well,  I'll be frank here. not his experience with IV coke. But his fucking NDE. (near-death experience.)


To put this into perspective which anyone could I understand... I was 7 pulse beats away from what cnn-states is a near-definate heart attack. I was still walking, holding conversation.(Both were pretty bad, ESP walking. phew..thank god I didn't fall down staircase with a pulse like that. Would have been cardiac arrest before I reached the floor!)

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

I'm vegetative in terms of several daily functions. Yeh, I know, a knack for writing,intelligent.Still, vegetative.

The primary reason I use drugs anymore is to disguise my complete loss of ability to do certain things. On days, when I'm too tired to make a witty joke so I can walk away without doing what is requested without "I'm partially-vegetable, I'm cant do it. yeah  I cant." Now you ask yourself, a man who's read 75% of what americans consider relevant on top of every book that made it to the "pop-scene", mentioned on random sites, etc. How can this man be incapable of per se "Screwing the nail into the wood." (not actual reference) WELL, Because of my luck. Brain hemmorhage, despite sub-arachnoid, damage was localised to specific areas of the brain surrounding yet not touching wit/creativity/intellect. But capacity to use any intellect relevant to daily life. It's gone. So thats why some days I pop amount of absurd pills so n
next day I can have a valid reason as to why I'm not capable, or can't rather. I guess I'm that shallow narcissist pig. I consider sympathy to be pity and when it prevails...it damages my heart more than a serious IV cocaine overdose bordering need to rescusitate. so yeah I'm use fancy words and witty jokes to disguise my incapacity.


As far as relationships, I don't want a girlfriend who did not know me prior to the incident on top of this blog. Then she knows ....won't say it. And ones that knew me prior, I couldn't do that to them. It would be just wrong, on my part. Though I KNOW I'm a good looking  guy when im not 100lb cracked out.

Shame though, I remain with two women in my life. One's insisting I come to St Louis, because I have that attractive yet post-WW2 survivor jewish pretty boy glance. Other one, my mother, I don't think she cares anymore. It's either that or she doesn't know how to give me advice  or say anything in regards to my actions in a motherly way.  Due to this.

HUHHHHHHHHHHHHH WHITNICK, KEVIN. NEXT DRINK's ON ME!!

Monday, February 9, 2015

Nostalgia...Oleg Gazmanov - fishergirl.

Today coming across an Oleg Gazmanov CD, I had the most vivid childhood memory imaginable.I was laying on the couch. Seven years old, summer at grandma's. Russia farming lands. I was listening to the Gazmanov song on the link above. Grandpa came to the couch end of song. I turned it off. He had already drank booze at sometime between 11am-1pm. Russian man's hangover cure, MORE BOOZE. I started playing around with him, pushing him because he was passing out.Verbatim, he says "Commander, let me rest." Fast forward 14 years. Mom's close friends birthday. (I had already become a junkie at that point.) A friend of this woman's , her husband (gruzin, bratuha,). While his wife is dancing, he goes into her wallet, takes out money. I step out to smoke, he's buying heroin. End of the night, not many people remaining at restaurant. THE same gazmanov song comes on as shown above in the link, I was last man dancing for the night, I got on an EMPTY FLOOR (narcissist :) ) 2 hot chicks get on the dance floor, to join. Wilderness ran into my heart. When song ended. Our people were leaving the restaurant, an italian lawyer outa connecticut was being assisted in exiting the restaurant. The junkie who stole his wife's money, runs out of the restaurant with a bottle of liquor on his hand, joyous smile on his face, comes up to Mr. connecticut and says "Now we'll make him all better!".Women surrounding, in so many words say "Badri, FUCK OFF."


yo, a junkie's sense of humor dies after he does.


This post is dedicated to my neighbor Judy and our platonic marriage. Platonic due to substantial age difference in opposite direction. Woman don't have viagra, man ain't going to become erect "circumstantially."


Sunday, February 8, 2015

Afterlife's one long session of flashbacks(correct word?)

I asked brother as a recluse if we can go to the staten island ferry to hang out(Where else, what can I afford. Oh right he's the one paying. nm broke.), he disagreed. Therefore I insisted on a simple walk to the train station and back. Since he couldn't say no, my dude simply manipulated me with offering money. Buying me pizza, hangin out at the spot.

Corrections/editing post. Not sure if it's one long session or eternity's worth.

Yeh though, pizza....not even a lil marijuana prior to the pizza. Forget buyin me a lil' smack, dope... heroin

R.I.P. Bob Marley.

Gennaros Pizza (New Dorp) better deliver me a fucking ounce of White Widow along with a pepperoni pie. I advertised them here for free.

Saturday, February 7, 2015

61st precinct talk Coney island ave and Avenue W.

(Thought it was stillwell and west 8th, i get corrected by someone on IRC of all places. nick, "Rangor") stillwell is 60th, we're talkin 61st. Eminem ft masta ace - hellbound. We always wait till we meet someone who is "Appropriately" carefree in our eyes, before we feel comfortable with displaying deep emotion. The one behind them, is toyishing unattaching. Knows you aren't but they are so far deeper in that it's irrelevant in their disguises. The one infront is beautifully, sporodically invading every sentimental value in your life with such brilliance, that in your original encounter she tells you "Wipe that half-witted smile offa your face, pal." and it turns you to laughter. But that's cause regardless of financial situation or emotional circumstance, she's in the same place with more friends or less disparaging stories. God knows how the characters feel at their location with their icon presence. I'm alone on a Saturday Night, here. Wouldn't mind The Tombs transfer tonight...maybe even in withdrawal. Shit's pretty foul, my nigga.

Thursday, February 5, 2015

Brother's wit enhanced.

I mentioned Biggy Smalls's song 10 crack commandmends followed by mentioning my neighbor Bill few minutes later.

He replies, "Yeah, Billy Smalls."

Mike Tyson's rap sheet. I watched an interview with Iron Mike shortly after prison....interview was humble on Tyson's part. Although Generic. But, then I read a comment down in youtube. guy puts it bluntly "You doin life with nothin to lose, but imagine gettin bare-fist punched by tyson in the forehead ?:"

Yeah, Iron Mike in good shape. I think I'd take my chances with getting hit by a car a second time rather than....*afraid to even type it*, than yeah, ...bare.

About, my earliest youth recollection of post-puberty glory. About, Italian Tyra Banks in Prime, Alexis. Last night, I went out to get some pills (My name is paul and I'm an addict.). As I came downstairs and got near the bench at the staten island train station, her face hit me like an 1988 bare-fist in tyson's rage. She reminded me of Alexis so much. I went from feeling half-assed to full blown coked up in 1/6th of a second. I Instantly asked, "Hey, what's your name?"

Unfortunately, despite her facial similarities. Name was Rachel, not Alexis.

In russian(Well, Armenian) artist's "Boka", his song "Youth"... He states: Only your youth you won't meet in your dreams...and in spite she'll turn away.

Today in mental health news. Article referenced to me by, Cindi Knox.

Mentioning Alexis and IRC-aquiantances in the same post. I'm drowning in Tolstoian Pity. =(
:-(