May to September 2004
5/10/2004
11:06 PM
We all face the same dilemma. What is there left to do? This is a question for which I can find no answer. I'm cleaned up and sober now, but I don't know what to do. Before, the plan was simple drink until I die, but I didn't die. So now I must live. That is the problem. I spend all my time dying that I've forgotten how to live. I have no real friends, no one I can talk to, no plans for the future, and I have exhausted almost all of my options. I don't know who I am anymore. I am a ghost of my former self damned to walk the earth looking for the piece of me which I lost along the way. I feel drained, old Too much hard living and then I slammed on the brakes. Now I'm here searching for answers to questions I forgot to ask.
5/20/2004
10:17 PM
Five more months and I'll be free of this shit. I'm starting to feel the weight of my punishment. I am still alone and right now that's the way I think I want it. I feel smothered in this place. The walls are closing in. That's why I've been looking for ways to keep myself busy. I've started work on the shop. I plan to turn it into a place to live. It's hard and slow going right now but I'm just going to keep working on it. Last week I cleaned the pool but the pump is fucked up, so I have to get it fixed now. If it's not one thing it's another. I'm feeling the need for companionship but learn to channel that energy and use it to my benefit. I'm reading more than usual and trying to absorb as much knowledge as I can. I have become a professional student of life.
6/1/2004
1:15 AM
It's been some time since I've written in these pages, I feel that I have nothing important to say but I'll write anyway to keep up the habit. I've been thinking a lot lately about my sobriety and whether I remain clean after I'm finished with my probation. It's hard for me to say, who knows how I'll react when the consequences are taken away. I'd like to think I could stay this way forever, but I know in my heart that the fire in my soul will not so easily give up. I struggle with the pain every day and every day gets harder to suppress the desire. The meetings aren't helping anymore. All those people make me want to puke or kill. I'm not sure. They're so weak it's pathetic. None of them have the courage to be who they are. I say to hell with them all. I'm still going to be here.
7/11/2004
3:27 AM
The days still pass with calculating methodical consistency. All is the same in the world of failing inspiration and choking creativity. The huddled masses pass through their lives not bothering to question the system they are a part of. I on and the other hand seem to question more and more as the time wears on my idealistic nature. It seems to me that the decay of everyday boredom would wear down my rebellion instead I become less discouraged by the obstacles placed before me. I become stronger the more I go through, and I am still convinced I am destined for some great adventure. I continue to absorb and catalog information and spend most of my time observing people calculating their strengths and weaknesses and constantly adapting to every new environment I'm exposed to. Well, that's enough self-exploration for now. I've got a job with Alan at the trucking place. I work nights. I enjoy it's because I'm a night person. The people are OK, and we seem to get along with each other. I am still clean, but I no longer fear the lonely nights Yesterday was the 4th anniversary of Alison’s death and I still feel the pain of it like it were the first day. Tomorrow, I plan to visit her grave and remember our time together as I do every day. I haven't been to a meeting in a month, and I feel the weight of my disease pressing on me, so I plan to go tomorrow. I hope life will give me a few breaks; I feel I've earned some happiness. If not, I'll still be here and all I can say is bring on the pain.
7/25/2004
4:18 AM
Early in the morning hours and here I sit all alone and hating. The commonplace advance of life here has become a cancer wearing at my individuality. To be different is to be alone in this place. There is no more original thought in the choking environment of the Deep South life. If you reject the status quo, you are rejected and ostracized by the huddled masses. Their simple minds cannot fathom freethought. Don't you love it when I go on these rants? I don't know where it all comes from but sometimes the hate becomes too much for me to bear and I have to vent. Since I have no one to talk to I vent my frustration to these pages.
9/7/2004
1:11 AM
The days continue to melt into the night, and I sit here alone contemplating whether I should continue to fight the evil that builds within me. The dark has become my only friend. Only my pain and sorrow are my link to reality. My other senses have been dulled to the point of nonexistence. I no longer feel joy or happiness, I just get glimpses of the memory. These windows into my past are fleeting and always leave something to be desired. I have terrible visions of carnage and death and I sometimes find myself fantasizing about creating what I see. There is still a voice that begs me not to cross that line, no matter how close I am to the edge it always pulls me back. I am grateful for that voice because without it, who knows what horrors I would be capable of? I am still alone and desperately seeking someone to redeem me. Something that is real. I have a knack for driving people away who care for me. I can't help it or stop it, no matter what steps I take to avoid my nature I seem to be continuously spiraling toward the fate which I fear I will never escape. A life alone, a bitter old man that loathes the world and wants to inflict as much pain as possible before he leaves it. I am rapidly approaching 24, it has been 10 years since I started down this path, and I feel if I don't get off soon I'll always walk it. End of journal.