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.

Saturday, March 21, 2015

I wrote an email to The Samaritans. (organization helps suicidal people)

subject of email was "I've decided that as slowly and sufferingly which means allow, I'm going to end my life."

This is what's inside:


Primary due to the fact that despite absurd circumstances at any given time in my youth, there was always someone there who was willing to love me. Each had their own approach, be it romantic or not. And I simply exploited their feelings for me for whatever was most suitable that day, overall. Inclusive is fact, I am not a sociopath. The irony that lies in the ladies I was close to at some point, it's that my appeal (case-specific charisma) rooted directly from my pain. Well, now I have maybe 3 people in my life whom I can talk to. And in none of them, would any good come out of it. In the back of my head, I've done the math on any relationship which is attainable to me at this point, let's just say what it offers in benefit would solely prolonging existance. Only people I'm still close to at this point, are original family. Mother/father/brother. me and my father never had an actual relationship, his part in it was due to him being a good man, my part in it was passively respectful. My mother, I think on  a level which she hadn't even processed at that point. She had her hometown girl come to new york, her father being a upper-tier businessman in russia. I was explained like this "She will pay you money for marriage so that can she gain USA citizenship. My mother, her self-destructive pride due to traumaticc youthful experiences. She couldn't look me in the eyes and tell me that she would like me to have a relationship with this young lady. She wouldn't even bring it up in conversation. But she did over-sell the tactful story that this is 100% business and noone sees it as anything else or wants anything else. My moother would make a solid poker player.  Not once was I able to read into her words and see that she has emotions invested in the possibility of me and this girl being together. Oddly enough, I see no other way as to how this girl was willing to give me a real chance in a relationship...other than My mother charismatically inclined her.  I am 100% sure that the chance this young lady was going to give me, had nothing to do with business of any sort of finances. And I'm also 100% she didn't just come to america and fall head over heels in love with a drug addict. Because in russia, a drug addict isnt a person with a problem, its a coward. a faggot in every connotation the word can have. Or maybe it wasnt charisma of any sort, maybe due to substantial age difference and same background location in russia, my mother emotionally trusted her and was open with her. And mayhaps the chance this young lady was going to give me. It wouldn't be me. It'd be an attachment to a romantic friendship she looked towards with my mother. And being the son's saviour was a definate way of being her closest ally. Now, to my brother. I don't really know. I'd bend over backwards for him and he knows it. But the damage done is irreperaible/irreversible. I think my brother is gay, so I can't read into his behavior in our relationship. Influenced by a 4 year philosophy degree from a new york CUNY. My life was over in every sense possible aside from physical existance in september 2005. I woke up in the local hospital ICU, told ive survived a sub-arachnoid hemmorhage and am now a juvenile diabetic. So now, it's down to carefully and passive highly self-destructive behavior  that a person with my health won't live too long partaking in. I suppose that's due a small hope is still inside me that during some part of this prolonged suicide path. I run across someone...or something, that changes me, inside.


но в одну из ночей глухая залетел и с того началась моя драма

Monday, March 9, 2015

Wil...I mean, Exercise routine fulfilled. (i'm an add.... eek)

Amazing, how moments years apart can coincide to the split second of fucking narrative, to the exact line of thoughts and bitter rage yearning through out your stomach as newly found mild chest discomforts soothingly relax the ambiguity of the moment to where you, you accept, Sobriety on mind, in hand, nicotine patch applied. I sat here watching Tom Hanks clip of Wilson lost, I looked to my right and it's where the split second of every single parr aside from locatin coincided.

Right, I mean, I'm doing me some good. Not short glances turning my neck watching wilson float. Damn teenagers running laps, I couldn't run more than 5-7 blocks without shortness of breath. Nicotine patch it is. I'm done. Despite bangin' dope and coke a week ago. Sincere efforts are about this season!

Then as the evening came and I had finished the joy in my mothers potatoes with little mushrooms in them with some kotleti on the side(meat made in a burger like way just alot smaller.) I went out to mail an envelope, mailbox having been by a church, I didn't notice it so I walked by.Turning back and looking I saw a man walking inside the church. I ran at the top of my feet after him. Opening church doors, he had just walked in. I asked him about location of mailbox when that was settled, well. I Said "Sir, what are you doing here?" He replied I'm here for bible study. Him being late for it, I decided on next monday. I have found my first group of sobriety network friends, bible study with my italian buddies. She had jesus without having one too many drinks at the local bar one night 9 months ago prior. Had jesus, a virgin. I will attend this bible study next monday. Oddly enough earlier today I couldn't decide on a sober activity so I read another short story from tales of two cities best and worst of new york. About a little boy who's mother let him go to church alone, $10 for cab $10 for church. He spent 5, skipped church, blew $15 playing arcades. Anyhow, it's settled. I'm writing this heavily enticed by a manic episode. Take care, folks. Yep Wilson, that's how it is these days.

<@MrMiz0ry> december 15th 2003

^ He said he lost "that loving feeling" on that day. Wouldn't tell me what happened, so this is a reminder to myself.

http://pastebin.com/mzV8F88Y

^ you din't find that funny? Grow the fuck up and grow a pair.

Sunday, March 8, 2015

Podal mne nachalnik list, raspisalsa kak emeyu...napisal RETSIDIVIST PA FAMILIYE.... Salnikov.

Известна история произошедшая с одним из "отцов" советской психиатрии М.О.Гуревичем. На лекции о болезни Альцгеймера демонстрировалась больная этим тяжелым заболеванием. Она не могла назвать ни своего имени, ни числа, ни времени года, но на вопрос, кто ее привез в больницу, с неожиданно осознанной злобностью ответила: "Жиды". Профессор повернулся к аудитории и заметил: "Вот видите, как мало нужно ума, чтобы быть антисемитом".


"Privilege is exponential, just like chess: you may think you understand it, but the person above you---or below you, I guess---understands more about it than you ever will and there is always someone who understands that much more about it than him. My friend and I used to make fun of our neighbor, a section 8 former military chief who didn't understand song lyrics, who only ate canned tuna and crackers, and who frequently tried to sell us shirts, socks, and children's in exchange for crack money. The same neighbor used to make fun of the women he knew who prostituted themselves for crack, deadbeats on the train and us---or anyone who thought that they understood the ridicolous elements of his own life better than he did. My boss made fun of me sometimes since I had gotten my degree from a state school and everything."

- "Quid Pro Quo, Just as easy as that" By Jeanne Thornton


Елена Ваенга Мы попали с тобой под дождь (Elena Vaenga - We got caught under the rain) 

The queen of russian shanson.


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!)