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A little tale... (creative writing, yours truly)

My name is paul and I'm an addict.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

Brother first job he's comfortable with. Tells me it's alot of dealin with addicts.

Brother will live jobcariously through my youthmage. Mother won't lose the house. Pops his secretive manipulation is way past defining character. Thus, My central air lets out some dense almost toxic smell. Can't put a name on it though.

I will elaborate on what drugs can do to a human being...a little further.

A energy deprived burnt out crispy brain somewhere in that head. Used to be one, anyhow.

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

The day I and millioms of other juvemile diabetics in USA have been waiting for, HAS COME.

Right here.

Now all they have left to do is figure out how to prevent the immune system from attacking these new cells and we're home. It doesn't have to come in time for my life being decent/well, but I'd be overjoyed for all the Juvenile diabetics in America. I know from experience what a struggle life is comparatively with this health problem. Although my... "late onset"... 22, that's late onset ..? type 1? Alright I'm not going to turn this into an insane suspense thriller. Just glad these med-researchers have come so close.

For a century now, we have been singing war songs about addicts. It occurred to me as I wiped his brow, we should have been singing love songs to them all along.

NA member right there, quote from the article.  I suppose NY times uses the washed up once in a blue moon with a vivid touch on addiction. Against free will, truth, troubles. What it is?

Also I left inpatient psych on july 21st. Spent 2 weeks in hopes of magic coming around changin my attitude.

Oh well, I'll die living my own lies. I got zero fuel , it's over. I can only pray ffor a quick/painless death.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Ted Levine turned junkie. 13 seconds of pleasure afforded to you by me.


NYC ghettos for the white man detailed in a few facial motions, 13 seconds flat. Its the truth.

Monday, July 6, 2015

Last year, while my mother was upstate in Church. (Sexual-assault, fight, nmore)

When she went away to go to church upstate...Coincedentally, a guy I know convinced me he has nowhere to sleep etc and to let him stay over. My father seemed oddly comfortable with the fact he was here. few days later, I was passed out in the morning, guy came by (drunk as I was told) and him and my father got into it. My father ended up in the hospital with some sort of leg injury. Documented as such. The fact that it got to that point where it became physical means there was some personal involvement on my fathers part. ILL TELL YOU HERE WHERE HIS INVOLVEMENT WAS:

When I was 15, I was assaulted and stripped close-to-naked and this was videotaped. To find out later, it was an investment made by a wealthy jewish man who had an agreement with my father. Both of them homosexually-inclined.

Then, just as the first described incident I spoke of, MY MOTHER WASNT HOME. MY FATHER AND BROTHER FIND ME UNRESPONSIVE COMATOSE IN MY ROOM. They could not figure out the cause, there was no primary diagnosis. According to my mother they tossed it on "xanax withdrawal".

^ this was done to me. By my father. I almost ended up a vegetable.


Chances are I was sexually used in one way or another the night I let that guy I know sleep here, him and my father being a team.

And a guy in the hospital called me his "EXIT PARTNER". The kinds of people involved here....oh boy!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PARTY IS ABOUT TO GET STARTED HUH

My beloved Hable Con Ella princess interviewing a little girl.

I've realised there's only one solution to my life now. A SEX CHANGE.

I won't be able to live here anymore. Because my neighbors know me as a real man. A man who'll jerk off multiple times while in severe withdrawal during the night. A man who'll maintain obscene behavior (which included EMT visits every 2 months) living at his mothers house at 32 YEARS OLD. Week later deprived of sleep, walk into the house at 9:40am and say the usual line "Hello  " to my neighbor on the right. Under the pretense I'm severely retarded. (Thusly allowing me to pursue my disgusting life style with no end.) With a high school girl living in my basement, with her mother knowing full well NON of my behavior could in any sort of way impact her daughter or herself, negatively. Because Momma ain't raise no scumbag or no faggot for that matter. I have VALUES. But on the same token...

It's over. I've failed as a man. I'm going to begin my transition into turning into a lady. I have a hard time gaining weight I'm usually thin,  5'10. Nice lips. Everything else, with the right amount of work, I could be the next anorexic versace whore in NY times. I won't have my private parts changed, obviously. But everything, if possible, I will grow breasts, take hormones testosterone blockers and whatever else is required. I mean this is my reality, my interest in chicks has been depleted so badly, my life style has eaten away all character in me. But, I'm a great actor.

For that matter, ACTRESS.

My name is Paula.

I guess I might cry the first few times looking ta the mirror with mascara or make up on and be depressed for a while. But I have more chances with chicks as a slut with nuts than as the man I've turned out to be.

A writer is not a confectioner, a cosmetic dealer, or an entertainer. He is a man who has signed a contract with his conscious and his sense of duty.
Anton Chekhov (1860 - 1904)

Sunday, July 5, 2015

Pretense sustained. Spewly okay.

The bitter end of what's left of me
The critter's mend of a theft spree
Alone in a hole proclaimed victims
It's gotten past the point of relation
Prone to a tone of reclaimed pride
A few days meetings figured i'd confide
In a quick no-thought instance
I resorted to a simple low demise - Pavel I Geller

"Doctors are just the same as lawyers; the only difference is that lawyers merely rob youwhereas doctors rob you and kill you too." - Anton Chekhov 

^ Many websites claim he said that. Hard to believe. Nonsense.

Tuesday, June 30, 2015

Alright man, it's fucking got me. I'm a fucked free man.

By the sack. I dunno. Just wait for the end. Pray it's not prolonged. endorphin deficiency at birth, whatever scientific bullshit there is to spew is irrelevant. I'm fucked. I can clearly picture it in my head if I had friends and a more normal life, itd be the same.... I would come home to an even more insatiable urge. It's eating what's left of me. And that isn't much. A keyboard can only relieve so much pain. Hopefully the suboxone doesn't eat up too much effect right now. I'm miserable.

oh yeah, forgot, NO HOMO.

Friday, June 26, 2015

I even feel awkward at NA meetings, I can describe how I feel at them.

The way I feel at NA meetings is the way a trust fund baby would feel at the 23rd street homeless shelter(manhattan) around 9pm , when the guys are sittin around watchin' tv waiting to be assigned to where they're going to sleep.

I've spent a few nights at that place. I'm not talking out my ass. I know from experience.