Tomorrow, another thing to go do, in the morning. Then, another hit. Yay!!! SQUEEEEE!!! lol
Such a reward. I have the fentanyl in my hand right now. I’m fingering it, touching it. Ohhhhh I can’t WAIT!!! lol, hahahaha! I just feels so LOVED on it. Yes that’s it, it loves me, you just don’t understand, lol. Oh how I do just love it so! I’m just shaking so much as I write this, it’s so wonderful that feeling it gives me. I just can’t CONTROL myself!!!! YAYYYY!!! Just can’t stop moving, shaking, tremoring, just a nervous ball of fire. You know, maybe I can get it in tonight, maybe? IDK, maybe not. I prolly shouldn’t.
See, that IS the thing, though. I am smart about it, that’s why I can manage and others can’t. I’m such a genius.
So. See, I had this whole spiel thought out in my head, today. It formulated when I was showering. It was like, I wanted to talk about addiction in the conservative community. Specifically, I wanted to mention Byron Jost, the man who made the legendary anti-illegal immigration flick The Line in the Sand, which was responsible for so much of the “build the wall!” sentiment that Donald Trump cannibalized and then subsequently ruined with this presidential run. So apparently Jost became dispirited after seeing what he saw as the failure of the movement, and started shooting heroin. He died later, in Cambodia, apparently with a needle in his arm. Yuck, not a good way to go. There’s a LOT of that shit in the hardcore conservative community. A LOT. Like, people have no idea of what goes on in there, for real, lol.
But I was kinda thinking- I read Gabs and such, and there seems to have been a definite… souring on Trump, and it was right after I started blogging again. It’s like, I opened peoples’ eyes, finally, to how much of a… traitor, this guy is. I wrote about it before, right after the election. But I guess the timing wasn’t right. Few listened, then, except for say Ann Coulter, and a handful of others. The ones that didn’t turn on me, at least.
But most of them jumped right on the Trump train, at least until they realized it was heading into a brick wall. And when I pointed everything out to them again, like, in the last couple of months, now, they get it. It’s like, yup, he was right, wasn’t he? Yup.
I won’t lie, that feeling is quite nice. It’s vindication. And now, they’re crawling back, and it’s wonderful to see. Gawd, I’m so petty, lol. But it’s OK, I have every right to be in this case.
But, uh, I also talked about other stuff, though, lol. Like the addiction. And I did so in very explicit shocking detail. And that doesn’t seem to be sitting as well, I mean there seems to be a shitload of new bitterness now that wasn’t there before when people talked about me, and a lot of the stuff I write, and the ideas I have. It’s like… yeah, ok. Even this guy, huh?
I mean, yeah, I get it. And I was nervous about writing about it, no matter what it may have looked like. I didn’t want to cause… consternation, but the thing is I really needed to get it out, to understand what was happening to me, and why. I just needed to know. So, I wrote about it.
And yeah… I know. I know, I get it, I’m sure that my old mentors are supremely disappointed in me, I know it. I can feel it, and yeah, I’m sorry. I remember that there was nothing they looked down on more than… narcotics addiction, especially to the hard stuff, because it’s… very hard, if not impossible, to ever really get back from that. I know. I’m sorry.
But… I don’t know. It’s like, they’re starting to realize what the stakes in this stuff really are. Failure means death, literally, and nobody will be spared. They will kill until they or we (white racial realists) are dead. And yes they will kill, or drive us to kill ourselves, or something. But this is to the death, and I think now that’s starting to really by felt as well as understood. Yeesh, intense stuff.
Yeah, they want us dead. They’re not kidding when they call us names like the “cancer of humanity” and other such absolutist terms. Like, they REALLY want to kill us. Or make us do it ourselves.
IDK though. Did I do good? Is this the right way? I don’t know. But I do know that I’m irreplaceable. One of a kind, and maybe the last hope, lol. I don’t know. Or maybe not, maybe I’m not needed at all. I had hoped so, which is one of the reasons I stopped blogging. Guess not though.
Well, I’m kinda losing the plot of what this post was supposed to be.
I need to go to sleep. I’ll put the fentanyl next to me, so it’s the first thing I see when I wake up. Should be enough motivation to get me going early, I would think.
Good night.