One of the early signs I’m off the wagon is 2am blogs and 4am blogs and 6am blogs and Second Life blogs.

It means I’m staying up all night. I must have gotten high.

It started with 5 Molly pills. I’d been without the pressed branded pills for about 2 years. The last of the blue Rolls Royce got used and There was only Canadian powder that could be cut with brown sugar. I once spent $40 for brown sugar even though I knew it was fake, because he came all that way…

I liked the pressed pills. Not only were they cute, but for the earlier years, the pressed pills were unique. If you had an Orange Maserati, it was that guys batch.

Like everything else, greed ruins it for everyone. Now anybody can, and does make pressed Teslas and they can be anything. There is a new word they were throwing around. Ecstasy is no longer MDMA… and Molly never really was.

Molly lets me say yes to things. I need that now and then. I have not yet used it to get me that desired female touch with success, but emotionally, MDMA makes a great night in Second Life. I can dance all night to Phsytrance with my glowsticks and not feel it the next day.

In Second life, I am not the 55 yer old fat hippy bum with stories a few will lsiten to. I’m the right age. I can rave incogneto.

I still suck with women, but to be fair, most of the gorgeous silent types are probably men anyway.

I know my female avatar spare is a bomshell.

So I did one molly on a Yesday with peer pressure from my new Kik chat friendship circle. IT’s thefisrt time in my life IO’ve stuck with a chatroom long enough to be a known regular. It’s like the Cheers bar, if Norm  and Cliff went 3 hours between sentences.

It’s new for me. Fresh friends that don’t judge me for being different because in sentences typed a few a day, I’m not so different. I’m witty and intersting.

On Molly, I go size up evertyone I meet and see if they could be a partner to go into business with me. Its a Molly thing. I need to connect even more.

Friday, I took the remaining 4 and left the comforts of my home to transet and wander around the city enjoying all that is observable, and loving it all, free of the usual negative voice tat crushes my joy on normal days.

I got quite high and then higher oc n weed and wandered. A lot of my time passes inside my head while I ome up with reasons to go get a massage or fuck, and reasons why not to. For me, sex is much like the football Lucy holds for Charlie Brown. He only knows the excitement of optomistic anticipation. We needs to try to kick it, even knowing the probability of her grabbing it away is high. 

I want to have sex so bad. You can’t comprehend how much I want this, because you can’t undertstand what it’s like to not know what it is. When I watch porn, I have o emotional connection. NOmemory of the passion to recall and use.

I only have what it feels like when I masterbate, and asume it’s better.

All attempts so far however, have not been better. They all end too soon, with me giving up before getting high, simply because in my head, I was taking too long and that was inconvenient or inconsiderate.

I ruin my passion overthinking and obsessing about the embarrasment.

My guess is that’s why most people lose theiur virginity drunk. That respect issue is supressed.

No other drug is strong enough to break my mental block that loses the passion the moment I sense her frustration.

I was doing well in sobriety but not well enough. I still need that badge. I can’t die a virgin. That spils  all the great drug stories.

I came close. It might happen this binge because I’m hoping to leave a long time in between binges instead of falling back into the pattern.

Negative Brain wakes up.  “You know, it might suck if sex really is mind blowingly worth it and you can only have it once. I could become adicted.

snap.

That is not a good reson to not try.

Step one. I am leaving the house, interacting and being friendly in multiple medias. So far, not yet with live subjects. My problem is still the need for them to talk first.

Even in Second life, talking to women I’m attracted to is easy if I have a reason to interupt or they speak first.

I don’t want to disturb or annoy anybody… and I do.

Especially high.

but hey… I recently learned they’re high too and not noticing it.

I just don’t know where the over forty drug users hang out.

But in chats or SL, I get the practice without the touch.

The next part of the story is true, but told like a stoner justifying his latest fall.

I bought meth and am currently awake at 227 am but I didn’t sleep last night either.

Here is the excuse. I ran out of the alternative legally presecribed medication that was keeping me focused and working like I have never worked before.

Then… seeing how happy and well adjusted I was, with a new found hope for progress, they took it away.

All of Canada was back ordered. Cold Turkey stop, last FRiday. 8 days without.

I didn’t take it well. Day 3 I paniced. It was Monday and I couldn’t work. I could barely stay awake but work wasn’t happening…. so depression hit and I failed.

I went silent and ghosted my huge life changing contract deal with my newest employer.

IN other words, I missed day one and didn’t answer phones.

Then, two days later I semi aplogized and I’m back in… but I have to explain I can’t do the job I’m behind on. I don’t have the focus or confideance I won’t \a.\dd it and mess something up.

14 \american and \canadian Microsoft \exchange accounts migrated is too forign for this state of mind.

So I bought meth, snorted and finished two web sites happily overnight.

And I wroite. A lot. A stream of ideas stacked on top of each other at a pace my typing could not keep up with.

I looked at it the next day and it was funny how bad it was.

At the time though, I have to get those ideas out while the joy crusher sleeps. Genius.

Talking to other people is cool though. Sharing at a slowpace over time. Seeking new friends I might meet and laugh with. Sadly, all male so far but we’ll see.

I am making use of my high, because that makes sense. I use drugs to do things I can’t do without them. That’s what drugs are for… but sometimes it;s just a high.

nce Imake a connection that calls back, I won’t need the drugs. They’re just to allow me to say Hi.

I say… like any addict might.

I got a suprise bonus cheqe this week to ease my financial suffering. I bought drugs and almost wasted it on an asian massage I would have regretted.

That’s me.

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