Sighinide

Ughk, how dreadful. Feel like utter shit, naturally. Fuck, this sucks. Tried having fun with Chloe East and only ended up passing out. Fuck, how awful. I used to have so much fun with her. And yeah we talked about that. About how we don’t have fun like we used to, and how I just see her anymore to keep me from passing out yet again, and how that kinda wasn’t what she wanted from the relationship. I mean, I know, Chloe, I know. I’m sorry, ughk.

Fuck.

I do wish it was different. I saw a different doctor yesterday and voila, of course, he hands me the name of some addiction specialists. Says they might “help me”. Great, how rude. Usual with parents. Whatever. I just feel so tired. Fuck. Oof, ouch. And in pain, again. Like always. Always, always, always. Sooooo much fucking PAIN. Fuck.

I’m sorry Chloe. I mean I know how you feel when I say that but it’s true. And I know you’re feeling sad as I’m even typing this but I need to get it out, so… yeah. I don’t have a choice. It’s MUCH healthier than some other stuff I could be doing right now.

Oof, this sucks. Addiction really, really sucks, doesn’t it? Oh gods, it’s horrible.

I googled a few of the addiction doctors whose names I have been given and read some unbelievable horror stories from some patients and ex-patients and such who went to see them, or had family members who saw them. Ugly shit, about overdoses, destroyed families, suicides, and general hopelessness. There are not too many good addiction doctors, it seems. I mean maybe that’s just this area or something, but jeezus. Oof, how depressing.

Ow, fuck. This sucks, lol.

I’m coming up on post 100 in this series, aren’t I? Yeah. Wow. How dreadful.

I mean you just can’t get OFF the stuff.

Whatever. Fuckit.

Fuck.

Weird stuff, all of this is.

It’s hard to comprehend. It’s like there are all of these pieces and parts and it’s like… impossible to fit them together because I have no idea of what the final product is supposed to look like.

I… don’t know. I don’t understand.

So. I’m… the Anti-Christ? It looks like it. Take the image of the Baphomet. Is that not me, doing to stuff I do? I mean, and not just… physically? I’ve felt like that, often, during dates on my relationships. It’s like… that’s who I become, sometimes, maybe most times, when I fuck one of my girlfriends. Pretty crazy stuff.

And the rest of it, of course. I mean, I am the Anti-Christ. I must be. There is nobody who fits this role better than I and I would be incredulous if anyone ever would. I mean, just look up the details of the Biblical Anti-Christ. That’s me… all the way down to the details, like my actions inspiring military events in the Middle East and such (Trump, ISIS, etc.) I won’t go into the details now but… yeah. That’s totally me, lol.

And apparently… I’m Christ, too? What? Like, WHAT? Like, yeah. I’m both, apparently. Bafflingly. I mean, everyone knows I have split personalities. And I guess I have BOTH Jesus and the Anti-Christ in me, battling it out, constantly. It’s confusing and strange as hell, but there it is, incredibly.

I mean yeah, I’m Jesus too. Holy shit. I mean, I’ve been looking at the arc of my life and I fit this, very well. And this isn’t a recent revelation, either. As a kid, I did used to wonder about this, off and on. I guess that one of my personalities incarnates Christian ideals better than perhaps anybody, ever. I mean- the ideals about the superhuman powers that can be granted by giving others true and unconditional love, the ability to heal others in ways beyond human understanding, the ability root out and destroy corruption and decay permanently and completely- and again, in ways 99.99% of humans could not begin to comprehend- and other stuff, like the ability to raise the dead (necromancy, apparently also one Jesus’s traits). And the rest of it, I won’t get into all of that, here. Probably telepathy, spiritual cultivation, physical immortality, a billion other things, etc., all done better than anyone else in history, etc. And there’s the fact the I can do all of this without money entering the equation at all, which is I guess another “tell”. I mean, yeah, I’m actually Jesus. Holy fuck. Wow, what the fuck, lol.

Oof, I don’t get it. I mean it works- the old image of the Anti-Christ is that of a man with two faces- but it still seems baffling. Nobody in sunday school ever told me that they were, like THE SAME PERSON. And certainly, nobody ever told me that that person was ME.

Uh… ok, then. So I lead global Satanism and global Christianity, at the same time, I guess. Uh… ohkay. And they both seem fine with this, I guess. So baffling.

The thing is, this works, but logically, it’s… precarious? I mean it’s supported by God I suppose (And I REALLY need to have another word with him. LIKE REALLY, DUDE. WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?) but it’s ohkay. Wait.

You know what? Maybe the problem here is MY problem with all of this. Like, maybe the fact that I find it weird is the hold up, within my own life. Maybe it’s like I’m locked in place because I find it too hard to reconcile logically, and I should just then “go with the flow” so to speak. Um, I don’t know, though. So confusing.

So… yeah. About that whole Anti-Christ thing. I’m going over it in my head, here. Control over pop culture? Check. Evil demon powers? Check. Chaos magic? Violence and sex rituals? A billion girlfriends? Check. Ultimate charisma? The ability to warp reality with my mind? The ability to control others’ thoughts by looking at them? Check, check, check. And so on. The ability to traumatize people with thought alone? Yup. Yes, defo, I’m the Anti-Christ, make no mistake about it.

Mmmnn hmmmn. Yup.

So, yeah, then. I’m both. Ohkay… sure. We can run with this, I guess. Why not?

So confusing, lol.

But… cool?

Yeah.

Cool.

Good.

Ohkay but I REALLY need more, though. I mean, obviously, but there it is. I mean this is clearly WAY not enough. Wayyyyy not enough. Oh but I mean, defo not NEARLY enough. WAY more is needed, but I’m trying to be “responsible” again which is kinda dumb, perhaps, in a country as vile and corrupt as this one. But whatever.

Ughk, this is just awful. So bad. So dreadful. These are INTENSE cravings, here. It’s very important that I take more, you know? Like, VERY important. Because this is NOT ENOUGH.

I think I’ll try some morphine, that always takes the edge off.

I am SO glad I’m so knowledgeable about all of this. Ow, lol.

Oof, I’ll try talking about something else tonight, later.

Ouch. Ow. Yikes, this really sucks, lol.

Oof.

Ok then.

Oh NICE. Ooooooohhhhhhhh yes. So nice, so refreshing, so wonderful. Makes me alive, it does.

Oh man, what an incredible reward. So wonderful. So much euphoria, so much… relief. All the pain just melts away and I float away on a cloud of… loveliness. I feel at peace, like I should feel, I think. Yes, this is me.

Fentanyl, always. Addict for life. I LOVE narcotics. I mean mostly. I mean, when they don’t threaten to kill me. Usually. Kinda mostly, sorta. Sometimes. You know.

But this is one of the good times- one of those times I love being an addict. SUCH a nice feeling. It really is beautiful.

*AHEM*. Yeesh, thank god I’m home. There truly is nothing more awful than getting cravings when you’re… IDK, out and about. Oof, it’s just awful. Everything tingles and hurts and I can’t stop thinking about drugs. Nice, I FINALLY get to use tho.

Neat, so wonderful. Jeezus I can’t WAIT. It’s going to be so wonderful, oh yeah so good, I can’t wait for it, I just LOVE fentanyl sometimes. I mean, obviously, lol.

I know this is repetitive but I’m kinda stuck for now, so… yeah. Oh nice, can’t wait.

Neat.

I don’t understand why everyone keeps asking me what is wrong. People, NOTHING is wrong. Like, I’m fine. Obviously. I’m totally fine, with everything. Nothing’s wrong. I’m O.K. Why wouldn’t I be? I mean I know I have problems but… you know. You know? You know.

I mean I don’t “beat myself up”, people. I mean I don’t. Like, I just had sex with Kathryn (yes again) and she wondered WTF was wrong with me when I freaked out and pushed her away afterwards (yes again), which is just… how I do things. I mean it doesn’t mean anything. Like, it doesn’t mean I’m “damaged” or something. I mean yeah, it might look like it, but… you know, that isn’t how it is, you know?

I just prefer to not… do things the usual way. I like keeping everyone at a distance, at all times, forever. Doesn’t mean I have issues. That’s just how I do things. I mean, there’s the drugs and everything but that’s a separate issue. And all the other issues, which are separate issues.

You see, Kathy? And everyone. Pls stop asking me what’s wrong. Because there’s nothing “wrong”. It’s just different, that’s all. Like, you know?

I mean that the fact that I “hide myself” in my own pocket dimension at times- I mean, for days, months, or years, is just how I do things. That’s just my way, you know?

I don’t have… “issues”.

So THERE.

Dammit, I just can’t stop yawning. It’s like, half an hour, now. GEEZUS, lol. Like, half a fucking hour.

I think it’s the fentanyl. That shit is so powerfully sedative.

Fuckit, I REALLY need a do-over on some of this. Maybe like the last five years, or something. Or like maybe the last ten, I don’t know.

Fuck.

Gawd, so TIRED. I’m just so fucking exhausted. This fentanyl is really just killing me with each hit. I really need to transfer over the heroin, or something. Like, I seriously need to. SOON.

Oof, yuck.

Ouch.

Ugh I HATE this. My heart is going a million miles a minute, now. It’s pounding through my chest. i feel like I’m having a heart attack or something, and I can’t stop sweating. I’m so pale, so cold. FUCK.

Uh, it’s just so weird. So, the way I had it described to me was that the more powerful narcotics, like morphine and fentanyl, act as ultra-powerful nerve stimulants. So when I load up on these guys it causes all of the shit I’m feeling now, which is why ironically I need MORE of them, to calm me down. Or at least, lesser powerful ones, so I might just go ahead and take some of those instead.

Oof, oh man, this sucks. And yeah I feel like I need a lot today, since I have been… tapering, for so long. I mean like a whole WEEK. So yeah, that’s a long time, yeah?

Oof, ow. Oh man, so painful.

ow… I just need a way off of this stuff. Like, I really, really need a bit of help, here.

Like, this is just too much for me, you know? I just really need some help.

Oof, ow… ouch.

Ow.

Ouch. ow…

OW. Ahhhgk, ow. This really hurts. Really really badly. Ow, ouch. I mean, my body. My head. I mean, I got some specialty anti-migraine meds but even those don’t seem to do much. I mean it just HURTS, damn it. Like really, really badly. IT HURTS. And it would be great if someone that wasn’t dead wanted to help, here.

Ouch. Ow…

Ow.

Fuck.

This is really going to end with me dying, isn’t it?

Ah… well. That sucks.

Oh, I hate how my skin feels. It’s so… weak, and thin. And pale, like it has no blood, or oxygen.

This… is no way to live. It’s like I can’t feel happiness, save for what the drugs give me. This is inhuman.

Everything HURTS. Fuck, this really sucks. It’s like, everything’s been taken over. My body, mind, soul. Everything. It’s awful. Nothing is right, nothing works correctly, anymore. It’s like I’m drowning in this stuff, with no way out.

Eech. Yuck, this is really no way to live.

My hands HURT. Feet hurt, head hurts, everything hurts. My whole body is out of whack. Ah, gods, this really sucks.

I can’t face the world like this, lol.

Oof. And it isn’t going away any time soon. Ugh. Gawd damn it.

Fuck.

It’s like… I can’t move. I’m so tired, so incredibly tired, now. So out of breath, always. So pained, in every way I can think of. This really sucks.

It’s just such a powerful downward spiral, and it has no end to it. Ughk.

This fucking sucks.

Yuck.