  Do you think I ought to write in here every day, despite the lack of goings on and opinions? Kurt pointed out to me yesterday that I don't write on here every day, and when i first started the blog, I did. Neither of us could rightly figure out why that had happened. I had originally started this to write about the fallout associated with drug addiction, and the sometimes idiotic struggles i have with being a headcase. Ok, I'm starting to think I know why. You know all of this now.
If I'm having an off day, it's one of the virtual hundreds that have been posted already. I think my set of mind is telling me to quit boring the nice people with petty stuff about me that's been said a million times. I also feel like i have no opinons - Kurt's the guy for that, really. I don't have any shocking and interesting rants like the Misanthropic Bitch (look her up on google - great writer, very angry, and possibly full of shit. ) Hmm. Here are a list of opinons.
1) People suck. I just wrote a big long paragraph on the subject, and deleted it because it can be summed up simply. Too many people do not give a shit. 2) All advertising is a form of pornography. 3) The medical profession knows nothing about disease. 4) The way society is set up, with the working and paying of bills, and educating oneself, there's almost impossible to escape debt, and They want to keep as many people as possible there.
5) Reckless drivers should either be shot in the knee. Or the balls, I'm not sure which. 6) The odds are stacked heavily against single mothers. 7) Racism and sexism are still large and in control. 8) TV slowly eats away at your brain. 9) There are a lot of people who need to sit down, and shut the fuck up.
10) Most, if not all of the problems with our mendacious little planet relate to my first opinon; too many people do not give a shit. And despite all of these negativities, the world is a beautiful, wonderful and utterly amazing place. There are people that do give a shit, like the guy who found out the guitar he bought was once stolen in 1966. He returned it to the owner. There's the boys who bandaged me up, and took care of me when i passed out looking for Lucas. (low blood sugar+low blood pressure+sudden injury like jamming my finger in a door, or spraining my ankle=unconcious person.
) The people that search for survivors in the rubble. Mother Theresa (She's a statement, all by herself). People who say after doing something heroic 'It had to be done and I'm sure that anyone would have done the same thing in my place'. People like my parents who take people in when they need a place to stay. Volunteers. People like Sarah, who didn't know me well at all, and gave me a job.
Oh yeah, for the curious, Bassiedoc did use the word "cured". I think, more than anything else, she used that particular word to demonstrate to me that she was extremely confident in my recovery, and that she doesn't think I'll relapse again. It was comforting, but i think it's still bullshit. Maybe in five years or so I'll buy it. Sexy yellow dog, you shed over all things; cause miasmas of fur. 
