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2017 has been good so far, but I feel that I might need to keep a low profile.

There is one very good thing: I have stopped drinking alcohol and smoking tobacco. I have been clean from those things since the 30th of last month, and I don't want to abuse those substances again. Oddly, I do not have any sleep deprivation anymore; I tend to get tired earlier and I often wake up in the early morning automatically, although I usually go back to bed since I'm still very tired.

I have gotten kind of depressed, though. The type where you are afraid of sitting down, because if you do, you are afraid that you might not get back up. While I am psychologically sad half the time, most of the time it is just a lack of energy. But I'd rather feel like that than to feel nothing at all, so as such it isn't too bad.

I'm actually very surprised about how easy it is to not drink and smoke. I decided not to do those things anymore because they were making me poor, and I also realized that I had been getting drunk almost every night for over six years and it didn't solve any problems. In a way, I feel like I'm back to square one (before I drank constantly, in my mid-20s), but I also am starting to think that I am older than I actually am. I just recently turned 33 and I'm already saying that I am 34; it is strange.

I met a guy at the co-op a few weeks ago and we started talking; he asked if he could see my writing and I said sure. I sent "Threads of The Mind" to him, and he really liked it. We then decided to talk about it at the University, which took place two days ago. It was a little awkward, but I still liked talking to him and I was flattered that he wrote a bunch of notes about my document. We talked for over an hour and a half; it was actually pretty cool. We'll likely talk again sometime; he has actually motivated me to write again. He isn't as articulate as me, but he's very open-minded and seems to understand when you explain the material.

My brother seems to be more busy with his life; we don't talk on the phone as much anymore. He does a lot of stuff with his girlfriend, which is okay, but I guess brothers move on after a certain age. My father had me read the bills to him on the phone; he is leaving on his sailing trip in a few days. His girlfriend also had me open stuff, and I found out that on her life insurance, my father is the primary beneficiary. She has two daughters, so that seems a little off. I don't know what to make of it right now; I haven't told anyone about it.

That is about it. I am thinking about moving to another apartment in town, but I have no idea how to do that. I might not be able to, but I'm starting to get a bad feeling about living here. I want to move away from the town, too, but this year isn't the right time for that.
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December was somewhat of an odd month. I was pretty emotionally upset for a while, and drank a bit more than I had in months. But I still didn't get drunk every day, and I've toned down on it again; in the past week, I've only had alcohol twice. I also smoke a lot less, which is good. I have a fairly strong resolve to stop those bad habits, because it is really hard to have them the older you get. Not to mention, that around my age it isn't seen as being cool anymore and you really just feel like a loser.

I figured out that the reason why I do these things, is really because I do nothing else. This is probably due to low self-esteem, and low energy levels. But the thing is, is that alcohol just makes those issues so much worse. And I have been doing that for years, and what has it done for me? Nothing, at all. Nothing good, at least. I don't completely blame myself, because if it wasn't for the toxic environment that I was in ever since moving back from MTSU, I wouldn't have done that, at least as horribly. Nonetheless, it has just sent my life to the sidetracks, and I'm going to have a hard time getting back on the right path. It is still not too late, especially since I have achieved things in life, but I honestly feel that the chances are low. Still, may as well keep on trying, because the only certain failure is to quit.

I feel that I will start painting. I have always wanted to do that, but hesitated, because again, fear of failure. As someone who has paid attention to surrealism and alternative art for about ten years, I feel that I have gleaned some inspiration, and I certainly have the drive. I will admit that I don't really know enough about technique, but I don't really fuss over the details; it is far more about the message, the greater picture. I feel that painting will keep me from drinking and will actually give me something that I can appreciate. I doubt that I will be absolutely wonderful at it, but I'm not trying to be famous; I have a genuine curiosity about it. The fear of failure is still there, but in reality, how can you really fail at it when you are only doing it for yourself?

My brother came over here a week and a half ago; we went to a restaurant that had all these fancy televisions in it, and then we saw Rogue One. That was actually a good movie; I was surprised, because I generally despise science fiction. It was great having him around again, and we both laughed a lot. I also had Christmas with my father and his girlfriend; that was nice enough, but I detected a mildly sad vibe from him. I asked them questions about the sailing trip (they are going to leave for it in a week or so), and his girlfriend didn't really have an idea about the whole thing, but I could tell that my father knew that they could realistically both die. It is a little disturbing, to be honest. My brother acts like nothing bad is going to happen, but I don't know.

Overall I've just been a little stressed and emotionally snappy and tense. I wish that I wasn't, although since the holidays are almost over, I feel that I will be back to a better condition soon enough.
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Another weird month that was a bit long, although it seemed to go by relatively fast in the beginning. I should probably update more, but that might not be necessary since not a lot goes on in my life.

I'm feeling a bit better. I'm not so emotionally rattled or upset anymore, but that just recently happened. I think that the withdrawal has gone away, for the most part; I still have problems going to sleep, but they are more mild, and I wake up a bit earlier than I used to. I decided to eat meat again, because my teeth were starting to feel more sensitive and odd (they still do, to a lesser extent), although that might have been due to the stress that I was going through.

Over two weeks ago, I went to Lewiston to have a dental check-up. They had to delay my appointment by a few hours, so I decided to check out the town. Lewiston is a relatively depressing place, but there are some interesting things about it; a lot of urban decay. It is a fairly poor, working class small city that likely used to be a bit wealthier due to the now non-existent gold mines around the region. I've seen the postcards of the main street of Lewiston in the 1950s, and I couldn't recognize it at all; it just seems a lot larger and more fancy. Oddly, that historic image looks more like the version of Lewiston that I have in my dreams than the current version. A lot of industry is there, such as an inland seaport, bullet factories and paper mills. It smells really bad. When I went back to Moscow, it was like entering the nice neighborhood of a run-down city. I hate the road that you have to use to go to Lewiston, because you have to go down a very steep decline on massive hills (practically mountains); many people have died on that road.

Last weekend, my friend who moved gave me her furniture. She was at my apartment with her husband, and it was a bit awkward for all of us. I told her before she came over that I should clean up, but she told me that it wasn't necessary. It wasn't that dirty, but it was pretty spartan (still sort of is) and I could tell that she and her husband got weird vibes from it, although it was relatively mild. They weren't disgusted, per se, but nonetheless I don't think I'm going to be hearing much from her again. If she was another person, I could understand, but she had known me for five years and I never laid a hand on her, and never will. I wasn't interested in her like that. I'm not mad at all, I just feel slightly violated; it wasn't like I had cartoon pornography hanging on my walls. To be fair, I might be over-interpreting the whole thing, and I can't clearly remember it, so as such it probably wasn't a big deal. At least the chair that I got from them is great; I use it to meditate, which I've been doing for about an hour each day. I think that is the reason why I'm relatively chill right now, because I've learned how to relax.

I talked to my sister today; we talked for about two and a half hours on the phone. She is fine but is highly worried about me talking about not being on SSI, which our brother was pressuring me to do. I told her that I wouldn't, but she was still insistent, and asked me what I should do with my time. I offered to go to a chess club, write an epic poem like Beowulf for NaNoWriMo, and to continue meditating. She approved of them, with the focus on the chess club because she believes that I should get out of the apartment more. She was also upset about other things, which was hard to deal with because I had triggered her unintentionally, but we resolved them, for the most part.

I really should never go off of SSI. I just have relatively low self-esteem, because despite my intelligence and degrees, I haven't amounted to anything yet. Both me and my sister were talking about our memories losing focus, and we both concluded that it was due to aging.

Overall I'm really not angry or upset. It is kind of hard to be, now that there isn't really anything to be upset about, as well as the fact that it doesn't do any good. All the times I've had anger, it just resulted in me having a lot more problems, so I just try to let it go now, unless if I have no choice. Since the visit, I've wondered about what I do in private, and if they are the right things for me to do (I don't do anything horrible or illegal). I now realize what if people knew about them, and how it would mess with me. There are people who make me look entirely normal, even in private, but nonetheless I do have to add that I am a little off. A part of me realizes that I should grow up and be a little bit more selfless, at least in focus. And as for the visit, I really just feel relief about it, since that will likely never happen again, and it really wasn't that horrible. If anything, she was probably just surprised that I live my life with too little possessions, especially given my upbringing. She did seem somewhat impressed with my book collection, though. Either way, live and learn.

For the most part, I have reason to be somewhat positive about the whole thing. Or at least, I shouldn't be negative about it.
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It has been a while. I don't post too much, because a lot of things go on in my head, but little to nothing goes on in my life. I would bore most people, because they care about what others do, not what they think.

In any case, the withdrawal is practically over. All that is left is the nausea and the inability to go to sleep early, but that is minor. I don't feel sick at all, and I'm starting to feel more healthy, because I barely use drugs anymore and I am quitting smoking and toning down on my drinking. I only use two drugs now, and I only use them about once a month. I don't like how I feel after I've done them; due to not being on Olanzapine anymore, I feel like an emotional mess, and I'm sometimes in mental pain. Well, I'm growing out of it, I guess.

I am still drinking, but not as much as I used to. It did pick back up for a little bit, but I toned down again because again, I don't like the way it feels when I overdo it. And I'm quitting smoking because I had no idea that a Black and Mild had about 10 to 15 cigarettes in them. That made me feel like an idiot. Fortunately, I'm having good luck with quitting, and I don't them at all most of the time, so as such I'm better off without them. I've noticed that I'm in a much better place emotionally when I don't smoke, which is usually the opposite for most people.

As for everything else, I'm starting to be interested in law school, because I've been thinking about family matters, as well as what I went through when younger, and that has motivated me to make sure that this stuff doesn't happen to others. A lot of people say that if you want to make changes, you become a lawyer, and I think that I can. I've talked to people about this, and they seem to think that I have the proper motivation, and that I could do it. But I have to wait a while before the monitoring period ends (about three more years), and I have to make sure that I know what I'm getting myself into. It isn't too late for me; I'm not that old, and the fact that I have a Master's degree already would put me in a favorable position. There is only one friend who told me that she was worried about it, and that was only because she was afraid that I didn't have the focus to do it. She even admitted that I would have a better chance getting a job from law school than I would from pursuing a PhD. I know that there is a surplus of lawyers these days, but that only mildly applies to Idaho, and not as many people seem to go to law school anymore, anyway.

I've lived in this apartment for a little over a year now. It is like I never lived at the other place, or almost anywhere else, although I still have dreams of living in Pendleton. I can still remember living there, but I don't really feel like I did. I'd rather forget most of it, to be honest. The last year there was very unpleasant.

Well, on with it...
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It has been almost a whole month since I last posted here. I forgot to visit this place until just recently, due to a lot of stuff happening.

On the 23rd of the last month, I decided to stop taking Olanzapine. I just felt that it got in the way of my emotions and the ability to experience pleasure in my life, and I was right about that. But what I didn't know, was that going off of it induces quite a nasty withdrawal, and I had no idea about that. Of course, I am well experienced with both taking medication and going off of medication, since I've been doped up for half my life. Despite this, the past few weeks have been somewhat hellish, to say the least, although there has been a lot of good, too. And it is also important to note that this is in no way my worst instance of going off of a medication. It is really only about the 3rd worst withdrawal I've had.

So, what is it like? At first, it felt wonderful. I felt like I could actually feel things in life again, and this is in fact true. I don't have to use substances in order to enjoy myself; I haven't used drugs in weeks and I hate smoking now, because it tastes gross. I still feel like drinking beer occasionally, but that is really only to calm my nerves, and I no longer feel the need to get drunk every day anymore (I don't even drink half as much as I used to). I can feel "high" just by being myself, and doing something as simple as looking at grass makes me feel grateful to be alive. Nonetheless, a few days later the negative symptoms started to appear. Headaches occurred, I felt nauseous, I was scatterbrained, I had horrible irritability, I had weird abdominal cramps, I felt that I was going to have a heart attack, I didn't want to eat, and so on. While I didn't want to off myself and I didn't feel like I was going to die, I still felt really sick, and I wasn't really myself for a few days. In some ways, I'm still not, for I'm not really able to be around people unless if I'm going to see people I already know. I was never an extremely friendly character in my full-grown adulthood, but my asocial nature has reached a higher level. I don't want to stop being friends with the ones I'm already on good terms with, but I have no desire to be friends with anyone else. I'm still polite, though.

I don't regret doing this, and the withdrawal effects have calmed down somewhat, but I think that I really am a changed person, albeit mostly for the better. Despite wanting little to do with others, I no longer have addiction problems (right now, at least), I feel happier, I'm more socially aware, I no longer have my delusions, I don't have violent fantasies, I'm usually not angry, and I feel like I'm finally taking the steps towards becoming my true self. I am a little less focused and perhaps a bit more paranoid, but I always was.

I think that I had delusions because the Olanzapine limited my ability to think in terms of associations and depth, and as such I became more frustrated and emotionally aroused when I couldn't figure out a problem due to that limitation. From that, I came to conclusions based on insubstantial evidence, something that I otherwise would not have done. But once I stopped taking the medication, I was able to finally face my demons, and I got over them, at least for now.

I told two of my friends last week, and at first they were worried about me, but now they are fine about it. I also told my brother three days ago and my therapist yesterday, and both were surprisingly supportive. I honestly feel that I'm on the right track now.

My brother told me that due to being medicated for half my life, beginning at the age of 16, I wasn't able to really establish my true identity, and now I can. I think that he was absolutely right about that. There were so many things that I did from then until now, that were the result of my brain being messed with, and thus me being confused. It was really tragic, if you think about it.

I might write a book about how I survived the "system", sooner or later. I'm going to give it a few months, though, just to see how things turn out.

Outside of that, I've been noticing some odd things in the world, but they are interesting things that make me wonder about the nature of existence. I might write about those at a later time, though. Right now, I'm just going to take things as they are, because it would be too soon to come to any conclusions.
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My friend is back, and her mother is doing better than expected. She's still really worried for her, though. I have prayed for both of them multiple times, and I almost never do that. Hopefully they will both be okay.

My father is back, too. He got back roughly three weeks ago but didn't meet up with me until almost two weeks later. He said that he and his girlfriend were "busy" for a while. That is slightly suspicious, and even my brother mentioned that, saying that when he calls them they are always busy for some reason and unable to talk. My brother made a valid point that they are both retired, so as such they should have plenty of time, but that is obviously not quite the case. I wonder what they are doing, but I honestly just want all of that to be water under the bridge. At this stage, I really should just have little to do with it.

I've been good with not drinking so much. Only about once a week, which is fine. I also haven't done weed or DXM in a while, and I plan on delaying their usage for a bit. I kind of want to sober up and not rely on that stuff, although outside of alcohol I had no addiction problem. I still smoke lightly, but that is really just to give myself something to look forward to for the evening. I don't smoke enough to cause any lasting damage, at least for now. Although I plan on quitting that, too.

My dreams have been weird recently. I have been astral and mental projecting, as well as having vivid dreams, over a period of several days and I have no idea why, outside of not drinking alcohol anymore. Perhaps due to my cessation, I am becoming more spiritually adept? It is definitely possible. I have discovered many things about how to enter into the astral and mental realms. As it turns out, the Astral Realm is hard to enter, whereas the Mental Realm is relatively easy. I don't know why, except for the fact that the Astral Realm tends to drain my energy, whereas the Mental Realm rejuvenates me. Both realms produce vivid landscapes, however the Astral Realm is far more sharp and clear, whereas the Mental Realm is covered by a translucent fog. I don't know much about the Astral Realm, since I can only be in there for at most a minute, but I know quite a bit about the Mental Realm. You can have dreams within dreams in there, and you can see with your eyelids closed. In fact, you can enter into the Mental Realm (or the Astral Realm) through normal dreams, although I do not know how to command that at will. Entities do exist in there, but I don't encounter them too much. It is not like a lucid dream, since I have little control over either realm. I vastly prefer the Mental Realm over the Astral Realm, since it is more personal to me and I can be in there for a long while. I have the theory that the Mental Realm is the mindscape within one's subconscious, and thus is not shared, whereas the Astral Realm is shared with others.

I told this to my friend yesterday, and she asked me if I told my therapist about this. I asked her if she thought that I had a mental illness due to this, and she said "No." Odd, though, since my brother sort of accused me of manifesting psychosis due to this a while back. I don't blame either one of them, though, since having purely subjective experiences tends to be associated with having a mental illness.

I'm probably going to start writing today. I've put it off long enough. Besides, my psychiatrist wants to see what I can write, so I will share it with her when I'm done. I will almost certainly finish my writing by the time I see her again, so it shouldn't be a problem. Oh, and I'm also looking to get this one officially published this time, so in case I'm doing this for real. I've already done some research as to how it would happen, and I think that I might finally have a chance. My only worry is that if I do, I might make enough money to disqualify me from SSI, and then I won't get another book published, leaving me with nothing. But hopefully such a bad thing won't happen.
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It has been a while again.

Apparently someone disappeared at my apartment complex. He was an older guy who had to use a cane, and I hardly saw him without some malt liquor. Most disappearances of that sort are usually suicides, but the odd thing was that he didn't kill himself inside his apartment. I saw the inside as they were cleaning it out, and it was filled with several (and I mean a FUCKLOAD) tallboys of malt liquor.

It made me reflect. I thought to myself, "Is this where I am headed? Do I want to end up like that? I don't think that I will, but I might." So as such, I have to be careful about how I treat myself and how I live my life, else I end up like him, or something similar.

I talked to the guy who lives right next to where that guy lived, and he turned out to be a nice guy; I thought that I wouldn't like him, but I'm usually wrong about that. He says that the cleaners asked him what happened, so as such no one has any idea what happened. Today the cleaning lady (who I think was my former neighbor at the place where I used to live) claimed that he stole her pink purse, and he called the cops on the matter to get it all resolved. Isn't that pleasant (and downright surreal, for that matter)?

Still am not drinking every day. I've been doing that for a while, so as such this is something significant. I don't think I've done anything like this, to be honest. Complete dry stretches, yes, but not moderated drinking. My bank account is doing better, as is my health. I still might drink today, though.

All in all, that is all. Just reading books and taking care of necessary stuff.
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It has been about two weeks since I moved.

I love it. I don't feel antsy in there anymore; I've learned how to deal with boredom. I think that I initially felt that way because I didn't know how to spend my time without the internet, but now I just like to chill out. I'm actually a lot more happy and mentally healthy without constant access to the internet; it provides me a lot less opportunity to remind myself that I'm not like anyone else, and as such I'm a lot less jaded.

I could spend all day in my apartment, but I like going out sometimes. I still need to see my small amount of friends, anyway, just to keep myself somewhat in the loop. I don't need a social life but I don't want my ability to talk to others to completely atrophy.

It hasn't rained in over a month. It has just been fairly hot and sunny. I hate it.

I paid my former roommate all of the money that I owed him, and to celebrate I got drunk. It was fun at the time, but during the next day I just felt like a degenerate loser. It was the first time I felt extremely ashamed about it; usually I just made excuses in the past. I didn't have a drop of alcohol the day after, though, so that was good. I'm planning to stay away from alcohol. It is unhealthy, a waste of time and way too expensive, anyway. Even if I could afford it, I don't know if I would want to drink it anymore.

As it turns out, my former roommate still lives at the old place. I sort of knew that; he said that he wanted to move out, but the arrangement that he made didn't work out. I believe him, although if it was a few weeks ago I would have called him a liar. He seemed pretty unhappy. I'm not glad that he fucked himself over, but he did bring it all on himself.

I still slightly miss the old place, but it brought out a lot of bad habits and I needed to move on and start living on my own. I was getting too old to have roommates.

Basically, these days I just chill out in my apartment and carry out solitary activities. I like reading and writing, and I write about ten pages of poetry a day. One of my friends has been reading my poems and she likes them. The problem is, though, is that I don't know how to really get my poems out there, so it might be a while. I am not sure if anyone reads poetry anymore, anyway. I also want to make computer games and music again, as well as practice drawing (which I actually have been doing), but my poetry comes first.

Other than that, pretty much nothing. The death anniversary of my mother was uneventful, save for meeting my brother's girlfriend for the first time. She is nice. I'm watching my weight now and I have lost a few pounds, and it is odd because my brother now weighs more than me. It used to be the other way around for several years. I don't eat that much, even when I'm hungry, because I'm barely stressed out or anxious anymore. That, in combination with alcohol reduction, will likely make me skinny again, for the first time in about five years.
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I move exactly a week from now.

I've been okay at not spending too much money, and I have done better than realistically expected, but I'm going to have to be careful with my money from now on. Should have been a bit earlier, and I sort of was, but I was somewhat dependent on alcohol, and that stuff is too expensive. If I stop drinking alcohol altogether, I will actually be more able to save money. I need to do that. It isn't impossible because I'm already drinking less and I have the motivation to quit; not only that, I'm not an alcoholic, although I sort of approached that at times. I also quit smoking again, and I don't plan on ever picking that back up. I need to stop things short before they turn into real problems again.

Other than that, just preparing for the move. I'm optimistic, but I know that I'm going to have to make some changes and some sacrifices in order for this to work out well, and I think I can do it. It will be great because not only will I be on my own, but it will give me an opportunity to change my life a bit. There are a lot of things that I have wanted to do, but haven't, simply because I live with someone else. Mostly just stuff that would require a lot of focus, like painting in the living room. I actually did make a painting about two years ago; I'm not good at it, but I want to do it again. There are many things I would like to do, that I am not necessarily good at (drawing, painting, making mashups, etc.).

I have had some success with my special power recently; I was able to enter into the mental realm in two consecutive days. The first day was just a vista of a industrial district of a city, and the second day was a vivid movie clip and a summoning attempt. For some odd reason, my ability to see in the mental realm "fogs up" at times. I have no idea why; perhaps it is the sign that I don't have enough energy for the sight to remain stable, or that I still need to advance my ability? Who can say? All I know is that I've never heard of anyone ever being able to do anything like this, and I've been many places and have listened to many people. I must have a special and rare, albeit currently very weak power. I'd love to do more with it, and to see if there are others with the same ability.
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I finished my second book of poetry today. It is titled, "Many Questions, Few Answers". I wrote over 130 poems in less than a month; that is pretty impressive, to me. On the whole, I am proud of the work, but I realize that I probably have at least a little bit left to go before I become something noteworthy. I am good, but I'm nowhere near the best.

I think that what is going to kill my chances as a poet in particular, and a writer in general, is that I have no idea how to get my works out outside of self-publishing. And I don't like doing that. Self-publishing is like using a vanity press, except in the former case you generally don't pay any money, or at least you don't have to. But I'm still improving, and I might get a better idea about how to do it nice and proper; at least my poems no longer revolve around myself so much. If going to church taught me anything, it is that you should look for things outside of yourself, rather than be completely self-absorbed. I was like that for years and it did me no good, but at least I snapped out of it.

Other than that, I'm still not drinking so much (about once every third day). I don't like spending a lot of money on a fickle high. At least DXM gives you a sense of meaning. Plus, I don't like beer as much as I used to. So about five years of near-solid drinking; happened a bit later in my life than most, but that isn't a long period and I learned pretty well in the end. I could relapse, sure, but why? Drinking beer doesn't solve anything; it just gives you a sense of euphoria that lasts maybe three hours and increases your anxiety afterwards. I really only did it because I was bored so much, and have a lot of time on my hands. I did drink while I had a job, but nowhere near as much as without one.

I've been putting things into boxes and leaving them in the living room for the move in two weeks. I don't have a lot of stuff; perhaps only 20% of my stuff is still in my room, excluding furniture. It will probably be easy to move to the new place, outside of my bed and the cabinet.

Well, all is okay right now. I'm not going crazy, I'm not as stressed out anymore, and I feel a little bit healthier since toning down my substance use. Still feel slightly uneasy about the anticipation, though.
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Well, I found a place about a week ago, and I move in on the 24th.

It is great because I was so worried, and now I realize that while I had reason to be paranoid, it really wasn't as bad as I thought it was. The place itself is decent, but I will miss this place, in particular the view. But it is a one bedroom and is actually cheaper there than here, so it will probably work out for the best. Outside of my last year in graduate school, I never had a place that was solely my own (actually, there was that basement that I lived in for three months, but that place was terrible, so as such it doesn't quite count). In any case it has been a long time that I will have a private place, at the very least.

I've still been worked up, though. Don't quite know why; you'd think that the issues would be over when the problems are solved, but that is not always the case. Perhaps emotions don't work like that; it goes back to how I stated over half a year ago that we have more than one mind. I had a hard time today, but I drank a bit too much last night. I'm going to try to not drink so much anymore. I mean, what is the point?

I've been reading again. Mostly poetry by French authors. I rather like Rimbaud, but I feel that my style doesn't ascribe to any school of poetry, nor should it. I don't even try for it not to; it just doesn't. I'm almost done with my second book of poems.

I realized something about a week ago: my mother is dead, will always be dead, and I can only ever see her in my dreams from now on, and as such, I need to move on. Drinking won't make it better, nor will mourning on an annual basis. I just don't feel anything anymore, and it is long past, so as such, I have to move on. Although to be fair, I didn't drink that horribly this time around. It just feels natural to let it pass...I've changed a lot since she died.

I feel like I've become an idiot. I'm not; I'm just burdened right now. Stress can change the way you think for a while; it will probably last for a few weeks or so.
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I found a place. It is pretty close to where I lived when I was an undergrad back in 2004-2006, and only about four or five blocks away from where I live right now. It is a little smaller due to it meaning to house two people, but I get my own bathroom and there is a dishwasher and everything. The place is way newer than this one; it was built perhaps around four or five years ago. I think that I will like living there, because it is cheaper than what I have to pay here and I would only have to worry about finding one roommate and not two. Although I will miss the carport roof and the view of the campus; not to mention that this place does sort of have an old charm to it, but that is perhaps only because I lived here for too long.

It was odd; just when I was getting scared of the fact that I could live here for the rest of my life, I get kicked out. Oh well, at least I found a place only three weeks later. Not to mention that there was no excuse for that other room to be empty for nearly a whole year; my roommate was just dragging his feet to find one, if he was even trying most of the time. I can't even remember anyone coming to check this place out over the past year, so it does seem suspicious. Paying such a high rent for so long was unacceptable.

In any case, I just have to sign the lease and be off around the end of May or the beginning of June. I don't quite know how that is going to work out, but it probably will.

I've gotten some feedback on what I just wrote and put on; I had a short e-mail conversation with someone about it, and it was interesting. That is a sign of progress, I guess. I will continue writing more, and I think more and more people will read about what I say.

Nothing much is going on. Trying to save money, trying not to drink beer as much (I think I am succeeding at that) and playing Elona. Just about anything about my life outside of my writing is relatively boring, I think.
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I'm in a better mood now, and I don't feel so down about my life or anything like that. I had a realization about a day after I wrote the last entry that I just felt the way I did because I was doing the same thing over and over again, and not really going anywhere. I wasn't really going anywhere because I wasn't doing anything new; how can you explore the vast realm of life when you keep on going to the same places on the map? In order to feel less like a loser, and to have greater capacity to do great things in life, I have to try out new things. That's it. And fortunately, I'm starting to do that right now.

There is also the whole thing about life being a means rather than a predestined end, or at least, that is how it seems to me. Life is about doing as the things possible to reach the end that you want to achieve, and then perhaps another and so on. There is no particular end chosen for you, at least not from the outset. So as such, one should take solace in the fact that they have the freedom (hopefully, at least) to work towards their desired goals, and that means that one should try all avenues possible and prevent oneself from doing the same thing over and over again, because that is akin to banging one's head repeatedly against the wall.

As such, I'm going to take a hiatus from writing; it takes up too much time and while there has been some reward, it has been all intrinsic and I've kind of hit a plateau. It is very hard to be a successful writer these days; very few publishers would even look at what I've written and while I do have the option to self-publish, I wouldn't get much attention from that. I still will write books again some day, but not right now.

I'm still going to read books, though. I need all of the information that I can get and need to keep my brain from stagnating, even if most of the information isn't immediately practical or rewarding.

So, what will I do now? I already know: I'm going to practice programming again. I finally have a sense of how to do it, and I have chosen a language to use in order to begin messing around. I will use Pascal first, but if that proves to be too impractical I'll switch to BASIC instead. Both languages are very simple and you can't really do a whole lot with them, but I'm not looking to construct some very serious and powerful programs just yet. I want to start small first, and not be too serious in my endeavors; not only will I be more able to have fun with it, but I'll be far less likely to become disenchanted and frustrated with it if I run into problems in the beginning. If I treat it has a game, as a source of amusement, then I'll probably be more able to be productive.

I'm doing this in order to learn something practical and constructive. If I get experienced enough, I will be able to to actually create some new, interesting things, and maybe someday I can create a program that will catch people's eyes. But nothing is guaranteed and I just want to create some new works of art, anyways. Either way, I'm doing something both interesting and useful. Eventually I can move on to a better, more powerful and complex language, if I'm smart enough.

Nothing else is happening. Pretty quiet around here.
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Life is somewhat quiet again.

I've successfully stopped drinking so much; over the past week I went from drinking four beers a day to three, and now only two. I like beer but it is kind of expensive and I want to do other things with my time. Don't get me wrong, I still like getting drunk every once in a while, but I honestly think that I should move on from it.

I've been getting up really early for some reason, sometimes as early as 3:00 AM. This would be perfect for me to practice astral projection, but for some reason I can rarely force myself to go back to sleep; I am just too alert. Half the time I just stay in bed until around 7:00 AM, but the other half I get up a bit earlier and then leave for the university. I do get a little tired when the day is half over, but I seem to have a bit more energy these days. Just a few days ago I cleaned parts of my room and decided to get rid of some books that I'm never going to use. I should get rid of other stuff, because there is a possibility that I could end up homeless, and then where would all of my stuff go? It is better to prepare for the worst, even if it never happens.

When I usually wake up early in the morning, I get these odd thoughts that I'd usually never have. They have revealed a bit to me, and just recently I've kind of figured out just how wrong it was for my father to have done what he did. I mean, get rid of virtually all reminders of my mother from the house, have some woman I barely know move in with him after only being in a relationship with him for four months (she's trying to sell her house, too) and having the whole house rearranged, with him acting all fake and superficially happy, while trying to go back to his old tricks of controlling me? It is offensive, and it spits in the face of my dead mother. She loved him so much and made so many excuses for him, and now look what he does. My mother never wrote a will because she believed that my father would never be with another woman (I'm 90% sure that he promised that), and he practically betrayed her. She also wrote several letters for him on her deathbed for him to open after she died, and none for either me or my siblings. It all spits in my face, too. I'm just pretty angry, now.

My brain feels better now. I can write a bit better, and I don't have as much anxiety. I'm starting to write again, on how people think about the meaning of life. It probably won't be perfect, but I enjoy writing it so far, and I feel that it might be worthwhile. I'm also going to write another thing, sort of a fantasy/erotica novel with a tongue-in-cheek bent; don't know when yet, though.

I wanted to do DXM again so badly, but I stopped myself two days ago. I got a warning or two from my I Ching readings that it would have blindsided me and set me back, so as such I have decided to not do it until after I write the first book, if I do at all for a while. I mean, I know that I will do DXM again; it is just too much fun and highly intriguing. However, there is still a slight chance of it fucking with my brain, and I should keep the usage of it to a minimum, for I'm in my thirties now.

Hopefully things will be quiet for a little while longer, until I want things to get loud again.
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On the 7th of this month, was the anniversary of me leaving my main job, and have a life that was largely unburdened by external factors.

I knew that it was sometime around now, but I didn't know the exact date until I looked at the first poem I wrote in the notebook that I carry around.

Some people thought that I would just stagnate. And for a while, I did. Between March and June of last year I did a bunch of legal drugs, such as Nutmeg, DXM, DPH, LSA, Kratom, as well as plenty of herbal supplements taken in excess and copious amounts of hard beer. I guess that this was the "cleansing" period of my life, in some odd way. To get all of the debauchery and bad habits out of my system so that they wouldn't haunt me for the rest of my life.

I ended up going to the psych ward in May of last year, and soon afterwards I stopped the drug use (outside of DXM and Kratom, which I only did occasionally). I still drank a lot of beer (the extent of which amazes me to this day), but that was because I was dealing with the upcoming anniversary of my mother's death. There was simply no other way to handle it at the time.

Now, I still do drugs on the occasion when it is appropriate. Nitrous oxide has proven to be interesting, and DXM will definitely be done again in about four months from now. But they are no longer my life. I have other things to do, and to focus on. I'm keeping away from beer now, and what I drink now is pretty mild and not in excess (I haven't been seriously drunk in four months).

But since I've settled down, I've realized that since about July of last year, I have made tremendous steps forward in order to become something worthwhile in this world. I've written over 360 poems, dozens of essays, made two computer games, made a painting (want to make more, but it is sort of on the side right now), and I even wrote a book. And it will only go forward from here. There is no sign of me stopping.

It was all because I started reading academic books. It opened my mind to so many different things, got me out of my self-pity and emotional stagnation, and helped me discover many things about both the mind and the world that I had no idea existed. I've read over 40 books or so, and I'm not stopping anytime soon (although I did take a break from it when I wrote A Soul Turned).

So no, I'm not a failure. I'm on the way to something great. And it will happen.
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It has been a while. There just wasn't much to write about; I've been quietly reading and overall life has been more calm and boring. But I like it that way, usually.

Last night one of my roommate's friends came over, and we started talking. I had met him once before and he seemed like a cool guy. I seemed to really impress him with my insights and knowledge, and after an hour or so of talking and having beer, I smoked a cigarette with him (wasn't so bad, but that was because I didn't inhale it inside my lungs), and later I smoked weed with him and my roommate. I don't remember a whole lot, and I didn't feel too high, but it was quite a pleasant experience, and I learned a lot from talking to them about all sorts of stuff.

I woke up this morning with a mild hangover. I didn't drink too many beers, but when I talked to my other roommate about what I did, he said that weed can cause hangovers, especially if you don't smoke it often (I've done it only three times).

It was odd; during last night and this early morning, I could close my eyes, and see mental pictures more vividly. I have a very adept mind's eye, but this time the weed sort of amplified it.

I felt that from the experience last night, I went to sleep and woke up the next morning as a different person. I really do feel that I am born again, in some ways. My life is different, my outlook is a little different; everything feels so clean for some reason.

What sort of signifies that my life has changed a lot is that over a period of several months, all of the previous emotional drama that was going on in my life sort of evaporated into the ether, and got replaced with intellect and philosophy. Just recently, the last tag from that time period got removed from my tag cloud.

This really does signify the start of a new chapter in my life. I have a lot to look forward to, and I think it will just get better.
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So I'm just chilling out. I'm collecting some philosophical papers, mainly on Godel's incompleteness theorem, so that eventually I can write my own philosophical paper. I'm very interested in applying the theorem in a way that I don't think has been done before, and I would very much like to see how others would react to it.

The internet people are going to come over today and set things up. I'm excited for that. There may be a chance that it won't work, but I'm pretty sure that it will.

As such I'm in a better mood right now, if not a little bored. I'm glad that I decided to stop whining; it was taking up too much time and it was draining.

August 2017

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