Just as I
got to where I wanted to be, floating around with confidence, zeal and zest,
several days later I fell back down to Earth with a thump. This was thanks to
the reintroduction of amphetamine into my daily routine; another harebrained
and nutty decision I have to live with until I can find The Rarefied Atmosphere
once again. It was great getting there, and I am proud I accomplished that
goal, it’s just so heart-achingly painful to leave it behind once having
experienced it. I opened up the Celluloid Corridor once more with some novelty
interracial. Watch Isabella Diamond (or
whatever her name was) get stretched to the max with 11 inches of monster black
meat! That interracial gets me every time. It presses my buttons like no
other kind of porn does. I hate to be writing this way, but I’m dead honest
about the way things are. I paid £55 for four discs and knocked on a dealer’s
door after deleting his number. He was out. I left my number through his
letterbox and asked him to ring me back, which he did.
I bought the
celluloid fodder several days before using. For the next two mornings it was in
my head as soon as I woke up, the screenshots off the back covers refusing to
go away, tumbling around in my head like coins in a dryer. I can look at a
picture of a woman and have some kind of strange ESP crap go on (Extra Sensory
Perception). I can feel emotionally engaged and bonded just from meeting
someone for a moment via their image in a photograph. I call it CHARACTER
IDEATION. With lust and sex involved, it can be all the more of an issue. And,
I hate to mention this in a public place where people who might know me may be
reading, but there’s just something about a woman with an Afrikaan’s pecker in
her mouth. It’s the demonic equivalent of a woman on a horse, or a bicycle. Hate
to say it. It stirs my juices sexually, just as blogging does creatively.
Once the
pleasure is over the psychosis ensues. I used to call this Dogsville but now I call
it Popsville or US Gov day. Usually because everyone is having a pop at me when
I’m spent up with no energy lying in bed with aching organs from the phet because
of dehydration. Every man and his dog has a voice in my head. Over time, a lot
of them have grown positive and support me from the original master command persecutory
voices. These are mostly celebrities who claim they are working for the US
Government. Hence US Gov day. I sit there talking all night to disembodied
voices and for a change they are actually quite pleasant and nice to converse
with. Friends, family, celebrities, politicians, the lot. I know how this
sounds. Explanations on a postcard because I’m out of my depth.
RARE is real
though, even if all the voices aren’t (as what I call the Chemical Imbalancers
would say), and again I’ve destroyed the Celluloid Corridor in a bid to get
back there. That was a week ago. I happened to be rescued from the psychosis
this time by a football tournament which I’d forgotten about. I was lying there
gutted when I suddenly had a protein shake and a banana and just got up off my
arse to go and play football. I had a great day and made some new memories
instead of lying there getting emaciated in Popsville. Having a knock-a-round
with the lads is one thing but a big tournament at a pro POWER LEAGUE complex is
another entirely. I happen to have previous experience in WINNING footy tournaments
on a big scale so as expected I fared well individually, even though our team
didn’t make the knockout stages this time around, rather unluckily. It was
great fun and a real life-marker for me. I wish I could play in a tournament
every week, it would make me happy. The organisers even laid some free pizza on
(although I have to admit that the vegan option wasn’t too special).
With only
four outfield players, time and space were tight so there was a lot of pressure
once you were in possession of the ball. Beating a man or finding a pass was
hard. I hadn’t played for years so it was extra tough. It was pleasing to see a
team with female players as well. I love to play against girls because you can
relax on the ball and have a bit of light-hearted and jovial general tomfoolery.
I met Stuart
Sinnot from my home town of Widnes playing there for a different team. It was
nice to have a catch up, I’ve known him since we were kids. He’s got his
problems with addiction like me and we had a good chat. He said that RECOVERY
was the most important thing in his life. And, as I’m learning to discover,
probably in mine.
Anyway, I’ve got an appointment with the
bottom of my bed, where I’ll be doing 54 press-ups in order to get
barrel-chested. I’m fighting back at life with exercise and nutrition, chicken
and dense greens all the way. I’ve included arginine into my supplement package
for the bigger pump and burn, always looking for the edge. I go to the disabled
toilet in Sainsbury’s supermarket to have a little posedown and check out my
gains. Large and in charge, baby girl, large and in charge. See ya next time. I
hope this reached you well x.
