Well now I think 4 years later im going through the same shit. It's wierd, like a reoccurring state of deja vu.

The company id been working for had been working me for a year and a half. Id maybe gotten a few months off, maybe 4 collectively. Working 18-24 hour shifts atleast once a week and not getting paid for it. I was very strung out and frustrated. A few months ago there was a period of time where I ran into the cops a minimum of six times in about a 3 week span. My uncle died, my ex left me because she hated my job and the way I self medicated, even my fucking dog died.

On the way to work I got pulled over in a little shithole parish in a work truck. Almost the same exact shit. Cop said I looked intoxicated, I wasn't. Looked through my bag without asking or shit and found a little bottle of moonshine. I make it for my dad when im home sometimes, i don't even drink the shit and was going to gift it to a coworker who wanted to try it.

So he takes me in and tells me if I blow 0 then he'll let me be which I knew was a fucking lie. I blew 0.

He asks me if I have anything in my system and to be honest because he's going to get a warrant if I refuse a urinary anyways. I tell him Im manic AF and self medicate with weed when im home, but I hadn't smoked since before leaving home which was atleast 6-8 hours.

He asks me to take a urinary which I tell him to fuck himself and he goes to get one.

Kept coming back with papers for me to sign "court documents" I told him I wasn't stupid every time and im fairly certain atleast one was an admission of guilt. Says he has a warrant, it's chicken scratched so I can't read it and not notarized, never saw anyone come or go from the jail with anything so I think he foraged it.

I can't resist anymore at this point without incriminating myself so I signed it.

They find marijuana, opiates, and cocaine in my blood.

The first two I did do. The last one, no. I normally hate that shit all it does is make the mania im self medicating in the first place to get rid of worse.


So I stand up, tell them that atleast one of them is a falso positive. That that's a bullshit drugtest that if anyone ran my blood or piss again would show isn't viable so GOOD LUCK with that shit.

He and the nurse look at each other (remember this) the nurse all flustered says...i..I just took it.

I say it's bullshit again and they keep me in a cell till the morning.


Next day or day after I get a return to work drug test that says im clean.

Go back to work for two weeks.


Near where im working in Fourchon, Louisiana there's a straight road with a concrete barrier at the end of it.

One night we go drinking and I always let my captain drive my car because im so paranoid. On the way back he comes up on said barrier, unlit at the end of the road.


I leave the next night to go get us dinner and on the way back I realized I passed my turn. It's been raining and is dark. I immediately hit my brakes trying to stop, speed limit is 45. Tires lock and I skid through the gravel into the barrier fucking the front of my car up.


I get out and some guy in a truck comes up behind me and asks if im ok.

Says that's some fucked up shit and that his wife came up on the same barrier not ten minutes ago. Offers to pull me off of it.

I can see it isn't damaged, can still drive my car and ive got liability insurance. So I thank him and drive it about 1/4 mile to my boat yard. My arm is all tore up because of the impact so I tend to it myself and go to bed because I gotta work in the morning and I didn't want to think about it anymore.


Im woken at 1 am, its the motherfucking harbor police and state trooper.

First they accuse me of being under the influence. I say no they give me a sobriety test, luckily just the eye part because if i had to walk id have failed it because I have an anxiety attack whenever I have to deal with the police.

Decide im sober so they accuse me of speeding. I tell them no, i wasn't even in a fucking hurry.

THE BARRIER HAS NO LIGHT

I yelled this atleast five different times which they were at no point concerned about

Tell me id better not be lying because they have speed cameras everywhere. I tell them to go check their fucking cameras. I'll wait.

They decided I wasn't speeding either but because i didn't call them on myself for hitting and not damaging a fucking inanimate road hazard while I had liability I was hiding something.

They hand me a ticket that says, "hit & run, not wearing a seatbelt, and wreckless operation of a motor vehicle."

I start yelling shit incomprehensibly and asking them how in the fuck I ran if they found my ass in three hours a couple hundred feet away and how in the fuck they know if I was wearing a seatbelt and how in the fuck is running into a solid piece of concrete in the middle of the fucking road in the dead of night is wreckless operation.

Start yelling something else about me being fucked.

They said, "i don't know why you're so upset you're not going to jail."

To which I ask, "FOR WHAT!?!?"

then i point at the car, "thats a $50,000 car! IM FUCKED!"

they offer me paramedic care and I tell them fuck no.

Then leave. I walk back to the boat and my captain looks at me all sad and tells me that someone called the company man who is an 80 year old sociopathic piece of shit. That im fired and he wants me off the boat immediately.

I was actually kind of relieved and said, "good, fuck him".

Couple months later and squad car lights later. One was a stop for following too closely on my way home from all that shit in a rental car so the cops drug dog could sniff my stuff. Another was in my dad's pickup for driving on the edge of a lane in a road construction area, cops actually felt bad when they saw me having an anxiety attack that time. Another was during my fucking uncle's funeral when I split from the funeral procession on the way out.


I ended up getting a letter from Louisiana about my case. I thought i was going to see the prosecutor but they stuck me on a bullshit first offenders probation program.


She was really cool but the deal was horrible, she actually told me the DWI was better. I told her what I told you, about my hypomania, that I smoked to manage it.

She's going through my file and tells me they're not even charging me on a urinary but a bloodtest and only on marijuana.

I tell her well then they don't have a case. I wasn't on it and the halflife is much longer, they have to prove I was on it and they can't.

She bluffs me and wishes me good luck but that there's a 99% certainty I won't win in court. Also shows me a legal description saying because id told the officer i hadn't slept in two days that's technically a dwi.

I tell her I was also told by another officer that being fucking insane counts as a DWI. Taking your medicine counts as a fucking DWI. So I just can't win can I?

She laughed

So I got this letter at home about a week ago and it looks like she cut the fines in half. Cut the mandatory minimum for probation. I just have to pay them 4-6k to get off of it and do 100 hours community service and maybe in Louisiana IDK. Also random drug screens.


I'm talking to a lawyer before I decide. Even if I lose atleast I stood up for myself. Sick of this shit.

So that's why I decided. You motherfuckers won't leave me alone, you wanna see the devil then I'm gonna let that manic motherfucker out.

"Sometimes I sits and thinks. Other times I sits and drinks, but mostly I just sits."

You're right I like this guy. Little clepto'. My dad's an alcoholic and an idiot so I did the same thing, I wasn't formerly educated and didn't have much to draw from but an inquisitive nature so I just started learning from people, everything. Most of it started here. Didn't want to be wrong or speak out of turn so I kept looking things up and gathering more information. Now or atleast for the past 8 years or so I just get these urges to know certain things or see something I want to know more about.

It's the same way with boxing. I taught myself orthodox and south paw. How to switch. Balance doing it on a constantly moving vessel. Watched Muhammed ali and learned the rope-a-dope. An ex coworker, mma fighter turned trainer shared this video of Dempsey using front legged grounding and channelling his weight to hit harder.

I saw it and was said, "MINE!"

Learned it on both legs. Just recently I figured out a way to shove off that front leg, shift it to the back to switch stances.

It's funny, I'll be working out. Trying to center myself, like meditation. And every so often an ex fighter will watch me and be like, "that's good, do this, this works better."

One is keeping my feet closer together than a conventional boxer so I can switch stances. Old dude taught me.

I asked, "won't that fuck with my balance?"

He said, "nah, you'll figure it out." And I did!


Also that stream of consciousness writing style. It's "flight of thought". Over time I got better and better at conveying thought so it's less like a frantic misspelled, manic prose and more like a conscious stream of ideas or expression.

Also I quit riding that psychadelic wave a couple years ago.

My cousin is a bail-bondsman and he had a connection with those shroom chocolates.

I would always have this plan for what I was going to do with it. A movie or game I wanted to watch, a state of mind I wanted to be in.

Shit don't work that way and an hour into it I'd be in the fetal position having an existential crisis thinking about the measure of everything and my place in a massive, infinitely complex, uncaring universe.

Gonna say after the fourth time I'd had enough of it for awhile.

Might try again sometime IDK

If im hypomanic usually I've got tolerance enough to withstand it. First time I took LSD I tripped for atleast 18 hours. Chugged orange juice in a gas station wearing shades at 2 in the morning and rode through the city watching streaming lights not unlike rust cohle in true detective.

That's precisely why I always trip alone. Like, if you think some fuck shit then you can kind of steer yourself away from it but getting pulled into other people's psyche can fuck you or them up.

Mmmmhhhhmmmmm I might get so twisted I'll think I'm a bear and try to fuck a tree but I'm not emotionally empathizing with someone that's reliving being diddled by their uncle when they were five.

There's a specific point in my first trip I decided that one. Ended up catatonically pondering about the nature of altruism at a house party where I knew no one, it was my first time, and they were all on LSD too.

I was walking around overhearing conversations from people, perfectly, every word and several conversations at once.

In every one of them I caught on that everyone was abstractly talking about the drug or strangely confessing shit they normally wouldn't wanna talk about. Thought about the CIA in the 60's(?) using it as a truth serum and for psychological experimentation. Then started wondering if the drug itself was kind of self promoting in order to spread. Like it was an ethereal sentience, like a virus trying to reproduce through the subconsciousness of it's hosts.

Then while I was trying to decide whether this was a legitimate possibility or more likely that I'd lost my ability to tell reality from my imagination and with that my ability to rationalize some random girl was talking about giving birth over a bathtub and I started visualizing it in gross detail like that "miracle of life" documentary but through first hand experience.

Said, "im fucking done."

Left and in that moment I decided fuck psychedelics and people they don't mix.

Um I do alot of writing on Facebook. Ive got this hobby out of fucking with people, humor, or written word kinda essay form stream of thought shit like we used to do here either through conversation or to make a point.

But sometimes my flight of thought will have clever ideas or stories and I'll write them down. Intense dreams too.

Had one about following Seinfeld through a post apocalyptic new york. And another one about Patrick Swayze like, some "meet joe black" meets "attack of the bodysnatchers".

Alot of humor in everything.

My ex convinced me to start writing. I never thought anyone would give a shit to read it but after reading it myself when done with it I have been to alot of places, do something people don't really get to experience for a living and I do have a captivating way of articulating things.


So now I just collect them.

Write about things ive experienced first hand too. Like a biographical record of thoughts.

I wrote one about this time I was going through some hard shit and trying to figure out my condition because I'd just found out and in being told that it made me question alot of experiences in my life and what parts of me were me or which were symptomatic of this thing and I just got sick of the bullshit. I sat a gun on the table and was looking at it contemplating some dark shit but even then while I was going through it there was a kind of fucked up humor about it. Then a methhead showed up at my front door out of nowhere like god was directly fucking with me. Like in a backhanded gesture of goodwill the universe sent a fucking junked out skeezer to ask me if id seen the man on her phone in the very few moments I considered suicide. Like a, "So you wanna kill yourself, kid? Talk to my maria of methamphetamine first. My guardian angel of the geek rock. Providence is a bitch, AHAHAHA!"

Once I was in a mood, went on a Bethesda Facebook article asking where the next fallout should take place and started talking about fallout: New Orleans

Mutated nutra rats, ghouls being used on a reconstructed plantation as slave labor, flooded new Orleans, coonass marsh people turned psychotic through isolation

It got over 10k likes and a bunch of shares

It's a thing I just spontaneously do anyways and get a riot out of it. I'm really good at speaking stream of consciously, using emphasis or just the way I speak when im manic, I have this kind of harmless male bravado, ridiculously childish sense of humor, and way of speaking rapidly and intellectually. A girl I talk with every so often says I sound like huckleberry finn which is pretty spot on so it's kind of funny in itself.

I do it when im stuck on watch on the bridge all the time. Pretty sure captains try to specifically keep me up there for morale purposes.

Once I started ad libbing things I was gonna do when I get to finally go home.

"When I get off here I'm gonna buy over $5000 in goldshlogger and slam it until my fucking face is covered in gold flakes and then black out in the nearest ditch mumbling the incomprehensible just like Edgar Allen Poe."

There's a few more I kept doing it

Even the way I act, I walk with this swagger it's like a fuckin alter ego.

https://m.facebook.com/story.php?story_fbid=10157472818830664&id=617140663&sfnsn=mo&d=n&vh=i

Tryin to do my superman

Drule asked me to come here. What am I doing?

/KnifeH

Baha'i sounds alot like pantheism. That's what got me into the whole ideology, dropping acid and shit read about it later on and something clicked. More of the scientific aspects of it; that the universe is a living, complex, systemic thing where everything has it's place. Cogs in a grandfather clock. Nothing truly dies, one form begets another.

I stopped doing it so much because like you say it changes you, for better or worse and while so far I'd say it's given me alot of insight and mental strength, the ability to "let go" break the habits the mind has of fighting that kind of experience, wrestling with it, making it worse.

Part of me is afraid I'd end up like goddamn Terrance McKenna, slipping between the confines of reality and speaking and thinking in some sort of existentially detached state where I couldn't be understood.

That's why I stay the fuck away from DMT.

But yeah that's exactly what I thought about writing and am kind of doing. Some first hand experiences, ideas and things I run through my mind, and a little fiction.

Most of my fictional writing is from dreams or metaphorical humor.

I guess if you could compare it to anything it'd be like Mark Twain meets wolf of wallstreet if it was written by Herman Melville.

Everyone I know has been asking why I dont write for years and I'd just sort of shrug it off like; "it's a dead medium and I don't have the time or patience to think up some Tolkien shit" but I do it anyways, I do it in my head and I got people all around me that just want to hear me talk because of the offhand things I think and say so if I get something together I like then I might try.

Right now I just adlib things on my phone and it's a little bit of everything, everywhere.

But I figure that's a good way to keep people entertained.


That would be awesome, both really. Florida is it's own beast. Not many places you can find hybrid supersnakes, an amorphous superhero of idiocy, face eating dopefiends, and 1950s styled corrupt/brutal policing on a beach paradise backdrop.

I always fucking hated Florida, especially the panhandle but it's kind of like that genital wart you petname then miss when the antibiotics kick in.

I have alot of stories and accounts of things ive done abroad or just trying to live.

We were in Cartagena, Columbia last year. Which I absolutely didn't want to fuckin go because I'd just spent 10 weeks dragging around a submerged lift boat, dragging it behind us like a decomposing body down a highway; ripping the legs off of it. Sinking it/refloating it, trying to rip loose our tow cable which it nested itself ontop of towards the end.

Ended up blowing it up and it's still a blinking yellow light of a navigational hazard on the seabed of the gulf of Mexico.


ANYWAYS

my captain basically fucking begged me to stay, said it'd be a quick turn around.

It wasn't the fucking carribean is a goddamn washing machine of 25 foot seas for 4-6 months and we were at the head of it.

So I lost my shit, few times. But we got to go out a few times and it was fun. I'd get drunk as shit and A) the women over there are goddamn beautiful then B) most of the young ones take a turn as working girls.

So I'm sitting on my phone with Google translate telling them that I'm just out for the booze and the cocaine. That I don't pay for sex because I'm a feminist and at no point in my life has intercourse with a woman been solely about getting my rocks off.

Engineer starts calling me a "gay preacher" so I told the girls that he was 50 cents cousin then went to the bathroom.


Wanted to finish my cocaine but the bathroom stall was taken so I sat infront of a urinal making a line on my phone and acting like I was using it when I hear these two Americans next to me:

"Are you sure I should take another one? Ive already had like 4 beers and one earlier, is it safe to take more???"


So I start grinning from ear to ear and rail the fuck out of it, obnoxiously loudly.

These two are dumbfounded, literally right next to me . Staring at me like "WTF". Laughed walking back out.


One time we were walking down the street and there was this chad looking motherfucker with a polo on yelling at this kid with his hand out.

"I ALREADY PAID YOU! GO THE FUCK AWAY! DO YOU EVEN SPEAK ENGLISH"

I stopped dead in my tracks, called him a fucking cunt, prime example of why I can't stand most Americans and that he needed to get punched in the fucking mouth.

Dude just looked at me like, "where did he come from?"

...

Ive never heard of i-ching or the "timewave" theory until now, I'm not mathematically inclined intellectually but after reading about it it's a pretty awesome theory.

It reminds me of the Dogon tribesmen and Sirius, star patterns they shouldn't have known about.


I got into McKenna reading about "machine elves", I like him he's awesome but I can only read his later writings in limited stints. It's probably a combination of that highly intelligent scientific mind coupled with deep thought psychonaut diving that kind of breaches reality and mindfucks the reader.


It's really interesting and entertaining reading but I kind of take it with a grain of salt like that fuckin ancient aliens dude.

I can only watch him after smoking myself functionally retarded.

I also really like watching "rotten" on Netflix. It's so goddamn good. Who'd ever thought an investigative documentary about the food industry could be so interesting.

I don't know how to publish anything either. I know a rich gay dude on Facebook who lives on a yacht and has also tried talking me into it, he's published so I figure when I get enough and a kind of running dialogue together I'll ask.


Yesterday I was thinking about what if elon musk used his concept for the "future home" to build subsidized housing and government administrative buildings as a proof of concept. Rerouting government grants and leases in a way to turn a profit over time while paying the grants back.


I was looking on Facebook for a way to ask him and if it was a legitimate idea I wanted to trade it for one of those bullet proof techno pintos.

And then this morning I was thinking about what if a joel osteen foundation type religious group cloned jesus christ and then taught him to be a neocon fascist then got pissed off because he was brown and didn't act like jesus enough after brainwashing him.

I'm an unwilling participant, I'll just be painting or something and minding my own business and this shit hits me like a ton of bricks.

I wish I knew famous people so I could just trade my ideas for swag.

Like a fucking indian chief, I WROTE A MANIFESTO AND I'LL TRADE IT TO YOU FOR A BAIL OF MEDICAL GRADE MARIJUANA

Like a fucking manic rumplestiltskin

*plop

Steven Spielberg: "who the hell are you??"

Me: IM THE GOLDEN GOOSE BITCH GIVE ME THE HOUSE YOU FILMED E.T. IN

I walk around with headphones in for most of the day like that kid from baby driver because it kind of stiffens the constant flow of thought. A diversion, like musically someone petting your head it's soothing and keeps me from just verbally firing off rounds joking, thinking, giving historical contexts or philosophical ideas. And generally acting manic.

Because I can literally tire other people out with it if I'm not careful; shit I get tired of it.

Lmao some days the other crew members will try to pull it out of me and I'll be like: are you sure, ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DO THIS!!?

my captain is leaving and I'm working through the holidays for one of the other hands and I already know that one of the other ones is gonna be stuck on the bridge and want to talk to me and I'm gonna get that: "what the fuck are you" look.

I told the engineer I was a communist about a month ago and he told everyone else I was a communist LMFAO