Hopeless
I can't stay here. I have to leave and go somewhere. I don't feel safe.
My forcer friend, Teresa, who continuously deceived me all those many months with no remorse is a customer of the dope dealer next door, and still deceptive and devious. She can slip past my bedroom window if the shade is down. It's fun.
I can t tell you how painful and frightening it is for me. Knowing, or even suspecting, that she's here brings back all the broken heart and feeling of humiliation and unimportance.
Last night she met him in the car in the parking lot underneath my window to avoid seeing me. She doesn't care. I almost walked out there just to catch a glimps of her, but I thought it might frighten her, so I didn't. Why should I love and care so much for her. There are those who tell me she's not worth it. Perhaps they're right. New wine must be put into new bottles.
I never judged her for her interest in drugs, I only judged her for deceiving me. But when you are an attractive woman in your thirties it seems drugs are more important than an old man's heart.
It's killing me.
DB
********************
Showing posts with label drugs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label drugs. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 2, 2012
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Choose Your Results
If your life is orbiting around a single reference point, make it a healthy one.
Dana Bate
*************
Hello Marty
**************
Years ago, among my many other jobs, I conducted some seminars in public speaking. The seminar was in New York City. At the beginning of the first session I asked each of the participants to stand and speak for a minute about themselves and any special interests they had. One fellow spoke about his love of gambling. I lectured briefly and then we went to lunch. When we returned from lunch the man wasn't there. He didn't reappear later or on any of the other days he had paid for. I knew exactly where he was. He had talked himself into a mini vacation in Atlantic City. Obviously gambling was more important to him than learning to be a better public speaker. Gambling was evidently what his real life was about.
I know drinkers whose life is centered around sucking intoxicating liquids out of a bottle any way they can.
I know drug users whose lives defined by smoking, sniffing, swallowing some sort of dope or injecting it into themselves through a needle..
To those people losing money, getting disgusting or paranoid, sloppy and sulfuring withdrawal pains are not results but annoying intrusions on the otherwise happy times they would be having.
The danger is in just that. There is so much enthusiasm connected to whatever the particular habit is that one forgets how self destructive it is. In fact the enjoyment is so great that anything negative about it will usually be ignored.
I used to know some drug users in New York who talked of nothing else but the drugs, what they were, where they got them and when they took them and never about their families, the work or their careers.
Enthusiasm is a very good thing if it's focused in the right direction. Enthusiasm is among the first steps toward any activity. A further step is imagining and determining what the result will be of that activity. Is it a waste of money with negative and possibly dangerous outcomes? Or is it rather something that will provide a happier and better life for you and for those around you. People for whom the center of their lives is involved in working a successful business, raising a family or even tending a flower garden may have a positive, healthy point around which their lives are orbiting.
It isn't difficult to find such a focal point if one looks for the right results and strives for them. A clean, clear, positive, happy life is not found in the dope, the booze or the roulette wheel. Those are where death is found.
DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never give up.
****************************
Dana Bate
*************
Hello Marty
**************
Years ago, among my many other jobs, I conducted some seminars in public speaking. The seminar was in New York City. At the beginning of the first session I asked each of the participants to stand and speak for a minute about themselves and any special interests they had. One fellow spoke about his love of gambling. I lectured briefly and then we went to lunch. When we returned from lunch the man wasn't there. He didn't reappear later or on any of the other days he had paid for. I knew exactly where he was. He had talked himself into a mini vacation in Atlantic City. Obviously gambling was more important to him than learning to be a better public speaker. Gambling was evidently what his real life was about.
I know drinkers whose life is centered around sucking intoxicating liquids out of a bottle any way they can.
I know drug users whose lives defined by smoking, sniffing, swallowing some sort of dope or injecting it into themselves through a needle..
To those people losing money, getting disgusting or paranoid, sloppy and sulfuring withdrawal pains are not results but annoying intrusions on the otherwise happy times they would be having.
The danger is in just that. There is so much enthusiasm connected to whatever the particular habit is that one forgets how self destructive it is. In fact the enjoyment is so great that anything negative about it will usually be ignored.
I used to know some drug users in New York who talked of nothing else but the drugs, what they were, where they got them and when they took them and never about their families, the work or their careers.
Enthusiasm is a very good thing if it's focused in the right direction. Enthusiasm is among the first steps toward any activity. A further step is imagining and determining what the result will be of that activity. Is it a waste of money with negative and possibly dangerous outcomes? Or is it rather something that will provide a happier and better life for you and for those around you. People for whom the center of their lives is involved in working a successful business, raising a family or even tending a flower garden may have a positive, healthy point around which their lives are orbiting.
It isn't difficult to find such a focal point if one looks for the right results and strives for them. A clean, clear, positive, happy life is not found in the dope, the booze or the roulette wheel. Those are where death is found.
DB - Vagabond Journeys
Never give up.
****************************
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
A Sad Story
What was a pure, innocent, beautiful friendship between an old man, Dana, and a young woman, Teresa, was torn to shreds by drugs, deception, a lesser dope dealer and an awful misunderstanding. Did I waste my years of gentle affection? Who knows? Now my prayer is: Send me the friend I can love.
DB
DB
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Confession In A Cave
*********************
I once saw an excellent one act play about two men who were investigatng a cave. When the curtain went up the stage was pitch dark. Gradually two figures emerged with flashlights, crawling on their hands and knees through the imaginary rock formations around them.
Soon, as I remember it, the second man's flashlight began to flicker on and off. The first man asked if the other hadn't prepared well enough for the trip. The second man said he borrowed the flashlight from someone who told him it was in good shape with new batteries in it. When the first man asked him who he had borrowed it from the second man mentioned a third man's name.
As they moved along the first man asked if it was true the second man had had an affair with the third man's wife. The second man laughed and said that it was true and that once he got her into bed she was hot, she went at it non stop, she couldn't get enough of it.
The first man asked how it had come about. Drugs, the second man responded. At first, he said, it was just grass but she wanted better stuff, so he gave her coke and some other dope. At first we were just playing around in the bed, simple stuff. But then she couldn't do without the drug. she said. So then to earn it I made her do whatever I wanted, he said.
And boy she did some crazy things. She liked it. He laughed.
The first man said they were getting to a place where they could sit up. When they reached it the second man's light was completely out. The first man said that he and the third man were sort of friends. They had been buddies in the Army. The second man was amused.
The first man then said that there was still a distance to go before they were out of the cave but that he would go out, get a good flashlight and come back for the second man. He told the second man to start counting and by the time he reached 30 he would be back . They agreed and the first man left, obviously never intending to return.
The second man started counting. After a while he opened his flashlight to try to fix it but the batteries dropped out. He couldn't find them in the dark so he lit his cigarette lighter. He found the batteries but needed both hands to put them back in the flashlight, so he held the lighter in his teeth. But the lighter burned his face so he let go of it. Now he couldn't find anything. Meanwhile he was still counting.
When he got to about 20 he wondered where the first man was, why he hadn't come back yet and what would happen if he didn't come back. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't have told him about the third man's wife. He was frightened.
He sat in the pitch dark counting: 27, 28, 29, 30.
(Curtain)
It was a good play and an excellent piece of theatre. One can't help seeing the moral lesson in it. The second man's careless, callous, self gratulatory, bragging about seducing his neighbor's wife, plying her with drugs until she was dependant upon him and became his private sexual toy, put him in the dark space of his own night of the soul. With every act of degradation he forced her to do and enjoy he degraded himself. The pleasure he took corrupting them both could only be shown as deep night when the light of shame and reason got turned on. But he was entombed in darkness before he ever entered the cave.
The first man, the good man, at least the better man, left the second man in his self praising darkness to die there, and went away.
Just as I did one week ago.
DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.
***********************************
*********************
I once saw an excellent one act play about two men who were investigatng a cave. When the curtain went up the stage was pitch dark. Gradually two figures emerged with flashlights, crawling on their hands and knees through the imaginary rock formations around them.
Soon, as I remember it, the second man's flashlight began to flicker on and off. The first man asked if the other hadn't prepared well enough for the trip. The second man said he borrowed the flashlight from someone who told him it was in good shape with new batteries in it. When the first man asked him who he had borrowed it from the second man mentioned a third man's name.
As they moved along the first man asked if it was true the second man had had an affair with the third man's wife. The second man laughed and said that it was true and that once he got her into bed she was hot, she went at it non stop, she couldn't get enough of it.
The first man asked how it had come about. Drugs, the second man responded. At first, he said, it was just grass but she wanted better stuff, so he gave her coke and some other dope. At first we were just playing around in the bed, simple stuff. But then she couldn't do without the drug. she said. So then to earn it I made her do whatever I wanted, he said.
And boy she did some crazy things. She liked it. He laughed.
The first man said they were getting to a place where they could sit up. When they reached it the second man's light was completely out. The first man said that he and the third man were sort of friends. They had been buddies in the Army. The second man was amused.
The first man then said that there was still a distance to go before they were out of the cave but that he would go out, get a good flashlight and come back for the second man. He told the second man to start counting and by the time he reached 30 he would be back . They agreed and the first man left, obviously never intending to return.
The second man started counting. After a while he opened his flashlight to try to fix it but the batteries dropped out. He couldn't find them in the dark so he lit his cigarette lighter. He found the batteries but needed both hands to put them back in the flashlight, so he held the lighter in his teeth. But the lighter burned his face so he let go of it. Now he couldn't find anything. Meanwhile he was still counting.
When he got to about 20 he wondered where the first man was, why he hadn't come back yet and what would happen if he didn't come back. He wondered if maybe he shouldn't have told him about the third man's wife. He was frightened.
He sat in the pitch dark counting: 27, 28, 29, 30.
(Curtain)
It was a good play and an excellent piece of theatre. One can't help seeing the moral lesson in it. The second man's careless, callous, self gratulatory, bragging about seducing his neighbor's wife, plying her with drugs until she was dependant upon him and became his private sexual toy, put him in the dark space of his own night of the soul. With every act of degradation he forced her to do and enjoy he degraded himself. The pleasure he took corrupting them both could only be shown as deep night when the light of shame and reason got turned on. But he was entombed in darkness before he ever entered the cave.
The first man, the good man, at least the better man, left the second man in his self praising darkness to die there, and went away.
Just as I did one week ago.
DB - The Vagabond
Never give up.
***********************************
Monday, May 2, 2011
Amassing Matter
Awareness requires a rupture with the world we take for granted.
Shoshana Zuboff
********************
Hello Anaheim, California
********************
That there is a separate reality, separate from the duties and hum drumities of our daily lives, separate from our habits and traditions, separate from our orthodox beliefs and practices, separate from all the exoteric knowledge we gather around us, there is no doubt. The proof is that there are too many people searching for it.
The search goes on even in the face of the adamantly determined who insist there is no other reality, that what you see is what you get, etc. The search goes on even though people who know the reality is there are unable to see it or know what it is.
The search has taken many forms over the centuries. One common thread seems to run through all attempts, that the truth lies outside of our physical, material lives, that it resides beyond what we can see, hear or feel.
The human body, therefore, becomes not a receptacle for truth but rather a barricade preventing us from reaching reality.
So the searcher must somehow get beyond the body, a "rupture" as Zuboff says, with what we think ourselves to be, a vigorous and definitive move out of our physical world into a higher, or at least a more robust experiential state.
The frustrating thing is that instead of less matter, the result seems to be more matter.
World religions have proclaimed themselves in the front of all search for the truth and yet massive temples have been built and are still being built to one person's idea of God or another's, with all the accumulated paraphernalia of worship.
The mortification of the flesh is another age old trap in the long search. People will whip, cut and burn themselves to reach a point of pain where they no longer care for the body in the hopes of receiving some divine light thereby. Other than collecting a lot of scars I can't imagine what else it accomplishes.
Meditation is another tool for the searcher. It is certain that Buddhist and Hindu meditations have accomplished remarkable things. But do they create a state of permanent enlightenment? Who knows? But the lonely monk in his humble cell may be amassing more humbleness than humility.
Drugs are another way people have tried to find the truth. That is another age old practice from the Oracles of Delphi to LSD. But it's only using matter to see and hear beyond matter. It has had uncertain and often fatal results.
People will say "The simple truth is..." and say something that is neither simple nor true. I would be lying to myself if I did not believe that it is possible, in spite of all our feeble human efforts, to reach past the veil and into the Holiest of Holies. And I believe that if I ever did that I would be astonished at the utter simplicity of what I found there.
DB - Vagabond Journeys
****************************
Never Give Up
****************
SPRING QUESTION
(This is not a contest)
NASA has planned to send a two man mission on an 18 month trip to the planet Mars. It would take 6 months for the astronauts to get there and after 6 months of exploration another 6 months to return.
Should they do it and why, and if not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
6 answers so far
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
******************
Weekend Contest Answers
In your opinion, when he is finished digging up President Obama's school records, what's the next conspiracy Donald Trump will find?
The answers were:
That Obama was really a woman at one time and had a sex change and never revealed it.
Maybe he's still a woman and in drag. Then we would have to find out who fathered his/her children.
I think he'll go to calling him an alien, that he's not really human.
That Trump, himself, is not 100% American. His hair used to live in some yak shack in Tibet and has been artificially made so thus does not qualify as American on a certificate of origin.
Thank you all. I think I'll award the good housekeeping seal to the alien answer.
DB
Shoshana Zuboff
********************
Hello Anaheim, California
********************
That there is a separate reality, separate from the duties and hum drumities of our daily lives, separate from our habits and traditions, separate from our orthodox beliefs and practices, separate from all the exoteric knowledge we gather around us, there is no doubt. The proof is that there are too many people searching for it.
The search goes on even in the face of the adamantly determined who insist there is no other reality, that what you see is what you get, etc. The search goes on even though people who know the reality is there are unable to see it or know what it is.
The search has taken many forms over the centuries. One common thread seems to run through all attempts, that the truth lies outside of our physical, material lives, that it resides beyond what we can see, hear or feel.
The human body, therefore, becomes not a receptacle for truth but rather a barricade preventing us from reaching reality.
So the searcher must somehow get beyond the body, a "rupture" as Zuboff says, with what we think ourselves to be, a vigorous and definitive move out of our physical world into a higher, or at least a more robust experiential state.
The frustrating thing is that instead of less matter, the result seems to be more matter.
World religions have proclaimed themselves in the front of all search for the truth and yet massive temples have been built and are still being built to one person's idea of God or another's, with all the accumulated paraphernalia of worship.
The mortification of the flesh is another age old trap in the long search. People will whip, cut and burn themselves to reach a point of pain where they no longer care for the body in the hopes of receiving some divine light thereby. Other than collecting a lot of scars I can't imagine what else it accomplishes.
Meditation is another tool for the searcher. It is certain that Buddhist and Hindu meditations have accomplished remarkable things. But do they create a state of permanent enlightenment? Who knows? But the lonely monk in his humble cell may be amassing more humbleness than humility.
Drugs are another way people have tried to find the truth. That is another age old practice from the Oracles of Delphi to LSD. But it's only using matter to see and hear beyond matter. It has had uncertain and often fatal results.
People will say "The simple truth is..." and say something that is neither simple nor true. I would be lying to myself if I did not believe that it is possible, in spite of all our feeble human efforts, to reach past the veil and into the Holiest of Holies. And I believe that if I ever did that I would be astonished at the utter simplicity of what I found there.
DB - Vagabond Journeys
****************************
Never Give Up
****************
SPRING QUESTION
(This is not a contest)
NASA has planned to send a two man mission on an 18 month trip to the planet Mars. It would take 6 months for the astronauts to get there and after 6 months of exploration another 6 months to return.
Should they do it and why, and if not, why not?
dbdacoba@aol.com
6 answers so far
I eagerly await your answer.
DB
******************
Weekend Contest Answers
In your opinion, when he is finished digging up President Obama's school records, what's the next conspiracy Donald Trump will find?
The answers were:
That Obama was really a woman at one time and had a sex change and never revealed it.
Maybe he's still a woman and in drag. Then we would have to find out who fathered his/her children.
I think he'll go to calling him an alien, that he's not really human.
That Trump, himself, is not 100% American. His hair used to live in some yak shack in Tibet and has been artificially made so thus does not qualify as American on a certificate of origin.
Thank you all. I think I'll award the good housekeeping seal to the alien answer.
DB
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