My Thoughts Thus Far in College

I haven't posted on here in a very long time, but feeling as isolated as I currently do I felt the need. College isn't what I expected. The classes are fine and living away from home is great, but I almost feel like I'm stuck in something I don't belong in. I'm not social enough to meet anybody and even though I've been chatting and nice to people that I have met I have yet to make friends. I know it doesn't happen instantly, but its still pretty depressing sitting in my dorm room watching 'Beavis and Butthead Do America' alone. Like I'm not sure if I like this =\

Not Sure

I don't really know how to feel right now. This rain is getting me down, and so is not having a car. I feel so trapped and incredibly lonely. It just sucks. Like I don't really have anyone to talk to anymore, I haven't seen my friends in forever because they're always working, and Cody is working (and not able to talk) almost everyday lately. I just want it to get sunny again so I can at least go walk my dogs or something more productive then staring at my computer everyday/night.

August

Summer nights
under carnival lights
were never as beautiful
without you.
Hold my hand,
Love,
don't let go.
Our future is bright
and we are new
and I can't bear to feel your fingers
slip.
In this moment,
there is no tomorrow;
there is only your eyes
and your scent delicately
slipping through my veins.
Despite the crowd,
you are the only thing I see.
This night was made for us,
Darling;
I can't believe I'd ever get so lucky
as to find you.

Plastoids

Standing on the stairs reminded me
of the last time we were there;
years before and so young.
Do you remember how innocent the world was?
Do you remember that those ruins where solely ours?
As time goes on
we discover more beyond the trees
and we continue to grow
as the river slowly grinds the factory to pebbles

(I love you)

Ceremony and NYC

The Ceremony show in Philly by far rejuvenated my love for hardcore shows. They were absolutely amazing and worth the two and a half hour trip alone. The pile on's were insane and I loved it. I love actually participating in shows it feels so fucking good.

Its also nice to see that bands nowadays do actually hold morals. That's what pissed me off so much about the last Mongo's show its like everything went to hell. It was all about being the new trendy fuck and quite frankly fuck you. Fuck your trends. Although I don't particularly like Paint it Black, the monologues before each song was just incredibly refreshing, and made me look at the band in an entirely new light.

I absolutely love NYC as well, along with Hoboken and after going there Thursday I can't wait at all to get out of college and live there. I honestly wouldn't mind if I didn't end up there, but it would be nice. As long as I'm happy it really doesn't matter to me where I live.

I really want to write again lately, but I really don't know what to write about any more. I wish I lived closer to the City. I would love to go sit in like the middle of everything and just write what comes into my head. I would also love to obtain a typewriter and start typing out my short story old school. I feel like my words would mean so much more if I worked that hard for them. I'm not sure why, but I feel like it would be rewarding. Like I'd have to really think about my words before writing them down, that way I would know I could get the word that I really feel fits.

I believe I'm going to spring for spray paint soon too. I have all these canvases burning a hole through my desktop.

FUCK.

Seriously, fuck the cool. Fuck the trendy. Fuck your high. Fuck everything you stand for. I'm sick of going everywhere and realizing there is no one who gives a shit. I feel like every teenager in the world is worthless. Anyone our age, the rising generation, the ones that can set any stage we want, is too busy getting high or trashed or caring too much about their Sidekicks or their fucking Converse or whatever trend is crashing through now and I honestly don't get it. I don't know how you could throw your life away on that shit. Why doesn't anyone understand that it just leaves you fucking worthless? It doesn't matter that you have a Sidekick if you fucking die tomorrow. I am never again living for anyone else but myself. I want to be fucking happy; I don't want to be waiting for the newest cool so I can show it off everywhere I go. I want to be me; whatever the fuck that means tomorrow.

(Oh, and fuck MANswers; this is the most sexist show in the entire world. Usually I find it amusing, but at this moment I am completely offended and realizing how real men are supposed to condone everything that makes this world shit.)

Ugh

So I'm realizing I hate myself as of late. Like honestly, everything pisses me off. Anyone and everyone rubs me wrong. A conversation from a few days ago with some pretentious kids pissed me off for the better part of 2-3 days. Like that's just fucking sad. I want to stop being so pissy and just enjoy living. Yes this part of New Jersey sucks horribly for its population, but I've only got a few months left so I might as well enjoy it while I still can. I love New Jersey, I love this area, I love the scenery and everything that attracts people to Northern Jersey; now if only I could just forget all the scum bags that live here I would be fine. Leave it to my family to pick the Bible Section of New Jersey to call home.

I really just need to calm down and take every day at a time. Who cares if you're pretentious/retarded/a douche bag, I shouldn't let it ruin my fucking day/week.

Becki, Snobs, and Cody

I guess I never realized how much my sister and her friends look up to me. Its kinda cool to go from being the young kid to now being this figure to look up to. If I can help these kids in anyway, I am very down for it.

Kids in this area are pretentious. I'm never hanging out with Sparta brats again, that's it. They throw around big words like its their business, and pretend really hard they know what they mean. I'm sorry, I'm not buying it. Put away the words, stop turning intellectuality into a fucking contest and just be the 17/16/etc. year old kid that you are. Honestly, you have all your life to be a stuck up snob, just enjoy youth. That doesn't mean you have to be stupid, but that also doesn't mean you have to impress anyone with words you clearly don't understand.

"bear i dont know whered id be without my other half" (you're absolutely perfect).

So Disappointed

The Mongoloids show was absolutely awful. I used to love going to hardcore shows because they were so different from metal shows. Like it didn't matter what the fuck you wore, you were accepted and people were honest. But now all the scum bags that got the shitty metal venues shut down are flocking to Edison like its fucking Mecca and I can't take it. If you don't like the music, don't pay ten dollars to stand in the back and text, just to later brag to your friends how xtoughx you are. You're not tough. You may impress your friends, but overall you're still a tool. And guess what, outside of your little circle of friends, no one is impressed. No one cares because you are still too old to be fighting with 15 year olds and you are still nothing. You are worthless. 

I'm just hoping I somewhat enjoy the Ceremony show in June. 

Plastoids and Trash Talk

I went to Plastoids today and realized its my favorite place in the world once the tress are blooming. I got some really awesome shots today and am really proud of myself. I really wish I could go back there more often, but next time I do I am definitely bringing some spray paint. 

Listening to Trash Talk on the ride home tonight made me so excited to go to a show. This weekend is going to be great, if only for the Mongoloids. I really hope Trash Talk is playing Edison in July; they are so amazing. 

Scum Bags, Slasher Movies and Donations

Immature kids piss me off. Its one thing to talk shit, I think everyone does it at one point or another. But fucking own up to it will you. Four different people speaking of said shit talking don't lie; stop denying it. So tell me, why do you hate him? Honestly why does it matter? Scum bag.

I'm really afraid that the story I'm writing has already been done. I'm not sure why, but I always get afraid like this. Like I'll finish my story and realize that it's a complete rip off of something else. And even if its not a rip off, I almost feel like it shouldn't be coming out of my head. Like I knew I would one day want to write some killer slasher movie, just because its something I've always loved and would love to put my own ideas into it, but at the same time I don't want to look like a fucking creep because of some of the things I guess I've thought would make a killer movie. I wonder if anyone else thinks about this. Like Chuck Palahniuk; he has some fucked up books. Do you think he ever wonders what his mother would say if she read "Fight Club"? Or better yet, "Choke" or "Snuff"? Do you think she's approve? Do you think this is the boy she raised? To write about porn stars and sex addicts and deranged underground anarchy movements? It's a funny thing to think about. Like I would love to see a slasher movie I created acted out in all its bloody gory wonder, but I'd feel like a twisted fuck knowing that was my masterpiece. I'm not really sure what to do from here, but I know I want to finish writing my story. Maybe when its done I'll see if it was an original idea or just another remake.

OH! And Alissa was kind enough to donate like seven canvases to me for my spray painting so I am starting tomorrow and am incredibly excited to. I really feel like this is going to be the start of something great.

Art Shows

I went to an art show tonight and realized how much I wish I could draw. I might just try to roll with the basic drawing style I already possess and see what I can do with it. I'm realizing how boxed in my ideas about art actually were. It doesn't have to look real, it doesn't have to be incredibly bizarre or intricate. It can be whatever you want it to be, and thats a very cool thing to think about. I'm also going to start writing fiction again, but I'm already realizing its hard to break my head out of the poetry spot its been in for the past 5 +/- years. 

Weird NJ

I saw this in Borders and was strangely compelled to take a picture of it. I'm not entirely sure why, but whatever.

Fears and Pictures

As inspired by the Facebook lists, I've decided to create a list of 5 things I am afraid of. Upon sitting down at Facebook to try to devise said list, I realized none of my fears would even be listed in their database, so instead I'll do one here:

1. Drowning

2. Walking on a broken ankle (again) (this also ties into an incredible fear of severed Achilles tendons.) 

3. Spiders

4. The creature from the end scene of Quarantine

5. The events of The Strangers actually happening (more closely related to the film Them, that was based on a true story that inspired The Strangers. This also importantly ties into my fear of being tortured and Eastern Europe, pretty much directly from the movies Hostel and Them.)

I have now realized that I watch entirely too many horror movies. But I guess if it wasn't for them, I'd have literally no imagination. I don't even care how warped I am at this point, I would be so different if it weren't for those stupid movies. 

I saw a hawk at school yesterday. I've never seen such a beautiful bird this close up, it was really cool. 

First experience at a Jersey Diner, I am the worst Jersey Girl ever.

Stay Gold

I just finished watching the "Steve-o Demise & Rise" show. I know this isn't the first time I've ever heard of how seriously fucked up you can get from drugs, but like watching the video footage of him snorting coke from the palm of his hand or huffing so much nitrous he started seizuring and talking to himself about how the demons in his head were telling him to kill himself, I truly do not understand how anyone could think that was cool. Like its one thing if you are an addict, then you've just sucked yourself entirely too into it to feel you can turn back, but to really start doing that shit because its like the hip thing to do is so fucked up. I'll just always remember an old friend of mine talking about coke and how it was really the most awesome drug she's ever tried, aside from being drunk and stoned at the same time, and like I can't even begin to fathom thinking that. Like I didn't even get it when I was into that shit. I don't understand why you'd want to be totally drunk off your ass, its not a pleasant experience remotely. I'd rather not feel like I'm going to puke for a couple hours straight. Or I don't understand why some people can't function if they're not stoned, everything is so distorted anyway that you're not even the same person you actually are. Why is that fun? Why on Earth would I want to forget or barely be able to control myself for my entire youth so it burns away faster and I get older so much faster?

There was a women in my work the other day that I honestly could not tell was a women until she started looking at purses. Her skin was like leather, and just hung off her face with permanent smoke lines permeating through it and her voice was so deep that it very easily could have beat any guy's hands down and I don't think the 20-somethings outside Community attach that image to the cigarette in their fingers. If you did, I don't understand how you could not be repulsed. Who wants to look 60 when they're 40? 

Its not worth it. Its truly not worth it. I enjoy living and I want to live for as long as I can. I've already given up eating meat, and made my diet healthier. I'm going to start exercising again now that I'm getting out of school for the semester. I want to start enjoying my life, and not looking at everything so damn pessimistically. I'm sick of sitting home every night and feeling like a lame ass when I'm fucking 18 years old and should be enjoying myself. No more being home at eleven and asleep by twelve, fuck that. I am staying out late and going in pits and enjoying my life and not being afraid anymore of someone trying to stage dive or what have you. The show yesterday in the basement made me see something I've been drastically missing. I want to be in those pits. I want to live a little. I wish I would have gotten my ass down to the Trash Talk basement show, I really do. I had the best time of my life at that show, and I loved being a part of that. I'm definitely going to stop just standing on the sidelines from now on.

Jersey Apresh

I don't care how boring it is around here sometimes, or how trapped I feel, I really love New Jersey. I absolutely cannot wait until I move down to Stockton and am by the shore and can really enjoy all the good parts of Jersey and not just the shitty rural area up here. I've also decided that I am definitely getting a Jersey tattoo, call me cheesy. 

I'm starting to realize how much I suck. I drove all my friends away, and the friends I do have still aren't as close as I wish they were. Everyone in my life has always got thrown to the back burner and I am so lucky that the friends that have stuck around for forever are still here. Seriously guys, if anyone still creeps this shit, I do not know what I would do without you and I promise this summer we're going to hang out a lot more then we have been. I don't like being such an isolate, its terrible. (I also would like to especially mention Dani and Alissa, pretty much the only two girls that have always always been there for me. I totally love you guys).

I'm also starting to realize how awful I am at maintaining friendships. Anyone that I've been really close to I have pushed away. Its not them; I don't think its been them for a long time. I may have been fucked over as a kid, but the last few friends as of recent that I've pushed away are all my fault and I can't blame anyone else. I'm so sorry, and I honestly miss all the different aspects of the friends that I have lost.

I am certainly going to make the summer of 2009 amazing. 

Boyfrenn

Cody, as hard as it gets sometimes, you are my everything.

"This is a 2 a.m. piece"

My spirit is entirely broken; I doubt I'm getting any sleep tonight. I worked for so long to finally establish my own set of moralities and ideologies and try to find exactly what I did believe in after following every person that was in my life for so fucking long and when I finally do start piecing it together its not the appropriate ideal. I've tried for too fucking long to break from the pack, I'm sorry if i offend but I'm standing behind the conclusions that I've come to. 

I've been a follower all my life and I'm done with it. 

More Frustration and Freud

I would just like to be the first to say that sometimes my family is ass backwards. It hasn't been getting to the point, I am way beyond the point of being able to take it any longer. Today, I lost a Netflix movie, or really the mail man took it, but thats a speculation. Either way, it has become the end of the world to my mother. Honestly and truly, she's reacting as if I stole a car or something equally awful. Its a lost Netflix DVD, this should not be that frustrating. And in turn, I should not be as fucking stressed about it simply because you are so upset. 

Awesome, now my parents are talking about my irresponsibility because I accidentally left the Netflix DVD at my friend's house. Really? I'm almost 19 fucking years old. My mind is officially made up: I am taking summer classes next summer and not coming home for longer then a week or so during the school year. I can't take living here anymore. I'm really about to scream.

THE PARAGRAPH THAT WAS ONCE HERE IS NOT IMPORTANT OR RELEVANT.

"Summer Blockbusters"

List of Upcoming Movies I am Pumped For:

Terminator Salvation

Public Enemies

Year One

District 9

Inglorious Bastards

"Its just another view point"

Did a Historical Jesus Exist?

http://www.nobeliefs.com/exist.htm

After reading this article, I truly do not understand how people could have such blind faith. Even people of faith are quoted as knowing that the whole religion cannot necessarily have happened. I think the biggest thing I read was the comment about a fictional book written in the 1920's about Pontius Pilot's letters to Seneca in Rome, and how maybe in a hundred years that will be considered as truth and worshipped. I almost feel like if we go by the standards of the people following the bible, fictional stories from our modern times could be worshipped in hundreds of years. 

The article also mentions Hercules, and how similar the stories are between him and Jesus. I don't understand how people could find that story fictional and know it, when the story of Jesus is incredibly similar and now factual?

I just can't stop thinking about the girl at SCCC who thinks the bible actually happened. The article mentions parts of the bible (mind you written 60 years after the death of Jesus meaning the unknown authors who wrote this could not have lived during Jesus' lifetime) writing about what Jesus was thinking. How would you know what was inside his head if you didn't even meet him!?

Its so crazy how some beliefs are thought to be so farfetched, like people who believe in UFO's or Big Foot, when there is about as much factual evidence proving UFO existence as Jesus'!

It just reminds me of when I was a kid and first started going to CCD. All my life, I was told story tales teaching good morals or trying to teach you lessons. I remember my favorite book in the world was Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs, a book about a town where food fell out of the sky. You're taught when you're young that none of it is true, that the only true myths are Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. But then I started CCD and suddenly this incredibly farfetched fairy tale was true and I was supposed to be incredibly faithful to it. I knew even then that it was bullshit; I really always have. I don't think I can ever understand the mentality of someone who spends their life waiting for the afterlife. You're alive now, why do you have to secure what happens when you do die? I've come too close to dying to waste my life praying for a paradise. 

Freaked and Frustrated

So when I got home tonight, my dad freaked out that if he had a gun by his bed, he would accidently shoot someone because we scare him while he's sleeping. Becki said one night, she left her room to find him coming down the hallway with a baseball bat saying he dreamt there was a intruder in the house and was just making sure. I am now officially too afraid to leave my room at night.

At yoga tonight the music reminded me not too subtly of the music in the Twilight Zone. I forgot how much I loved that show, and never realized what an ominous tone its cheesy score would cast over everyday life.

I was just reading a blog posted by a SCCC student and I cannot believe some people. I don't care what your religious ideals are, but when you are handing out bibles in the school cafeteria, I feel that's crossing a line. Okay, hand them out to people who chose to take them, don't badger everyone who walks past and then silently pray for them so they don't go to hell when they refuse your offer. How can you make the Theory of Evolution equatable to the talking snake in the story of Adam and Eve? Good thing science kind of leans away from your theory. I don't understand how people look so down on those who get sucked into cults, thinking they're absolutely crazy or ridiculous enough to believe some of the cult attitudes, when so many Christians are just as sucked into their beliefs and think nothing of it, or worse yet think they're better then the rest of the world because they are the saved people. 

A section in Cody's book Hardcore Zen struck me as particularly interesting. It was talking about how no matter where you are, there is no such thing as a paradise. So even if you live in a gorgeous place, have the dream job, and are incredibly happy,  eventually its just a regular job or life you have to drag yourself to. There's no paradise, there's no Utopia waiting for you after you die, and thinking their is may be a hopeful thought, but its also wasting the time you could be spending enjoying what's here on Earth. If you're constantly seeking and waiting for the afterlife, what's the point of living anymore? 

Next, many stories in the bible are found to be variations of stories told in other religions. The story of Noah finds its roots in the Mesopotamian story of Giglimesh, so to think that the bible is a literal account of the things that took place is farfetched. The bible is a series of stories to help teach you how to become a better person in "God's" eyes, not a word-for-word retelling of what happened. I'm not even Christian and I realize that, ugh. 

Sussex County infuriates me; you would think living in New Jersey and not the bible belt would make life more bearable, but I guess EBF New Jersey is where you find the conservative minority of our states inhabitants. 

Hunger

I don't think I've ever been as hungry as I was when I got home from Social Welfare Policy tonight. I haven't had a public presentation in so long, I forgot how much it takes out of you. Despite my inner freaking out, and the awkward shuffle I know I tend to do when I'm nervous, I was told I'm a great public speaker so I suppose I should stop being so worried. Even far older people in my class were completely stressed about the presentation, so I guess I can't feel so bad about that either.

Now that I realized I'm nearing the end of my time at SCCC forever, I'm realizing how much I hate my classes. Theories of Personality is the only one I enjoy anymore, and my English Comp II class is literally a joke. I can't wait to fill out end of the year reviews for this professor; and I hope some sort of administrative figure reads them. 

Posi

Lately I've been trying so hard to stay positive, but as I come to realize I'm leaving in the fall, I'm noticing my temper is going straight to hell with my entire family. I don't mean to, my mom and dad definitely don't deserve it. My sister, on the other hand, oh my god. I guess when I was going through my teenage shit, I was as selfish and terrible as she is, but I am very much so on the edge of freaking out. I don't deserve to deal with her bullshit, and neither does the rest of my family. You're in 8th grade, your life is not going to end if you don't have a boyfriend. I don't care what in your life is so important, you don't have to treat the world like shit.

I want to stay positive. This semester is ending very soon, After Wednesday, I have nothing else major due until take home finals start getting handed out. And then once I'm done, I'm done with SCCC forever. I could not be happier, honestly. Cody is amazing, school is so close to being done, and its almost summer. Warped tour is going to be great, and I'm so hoping I can catch This is Hardcore and spend three days alone with Cody. But even through all this good coming up, I still can't help but want to scream.

I don't understand why public speaking still scares me so much. I'm friends with a lot of the people in this class and have comfortably sat with them until the class started, but for some reason I know I'll have a problem falling asleep tonight because I am dreading doing my oral presentation tomorrow (night, mind you). I would think by now I would have overcome this stupid phobia; I'm glad at least I volunteered to go pretty early in the list so I won't stress for too long. 

Acceptance

I got my acceptance letter from Stockton today, and am very glad I didn't have to wait the 6-8 weeks they claimed to find out if I was accepted or not. I realized that I have no emotions though. Mom called me, pretty much crying because she was so excited, and I was just like "yay." Inside I was freaking out, but on the surface I had nothing. Cody really is the only one I can express anything to really. But because I was at work there was nothing.

On another note, I feel kind of shitty for getting accepted. Or applying now at all. I wish Cody could have sent in his application too. Now for the next couple months I'll be freaking out hoping he gets accepted too. I don't know what I'd do if things didn't work out. I really don't.

Open Mic Night

This was what I obtained from the open mic night tonight. It would be nice to say that the writing scene has changed/gone downhill since I graduated, but then I realized that it has always been downhill. We're now just missing a few pseudo-intellectual/political kids, but the incoming freshmen more then make up for it. I don't understand why I continue going to these things. I guess the few rough messes I sprawled down make it worth the couple hours (although Dani and Alissa helped much). I know I've said it before, but its really the entire creative writing scene that made me lose my passion for writing in the first place. Even tonight, I could not take the competition. I might just be exaggerating, or looking at things funny, but from where I sit you can never really add up to the five dollar words that the "future published authors" spew out. I much prefer keeping writing separate from the popularity pull. I'm so glad I'm out of high school.

As I sat scribbling tonight I realized how much I want to buy some canvas and spray paint the shit out of it. Everyone commented tonight that my handwriting looks like I'm some crazy artist, and I really wish I was. But since I am utterly lacking in the artistic department, I want to try to solidify my handwriting so its something readable but still looking like what I want it to. I think that's definitely going on the top of my "to do" list.

Return

I have plans tomorrow to go a High Point Regional open mic night. I'm not sure what to think of this. On one hand, it might be nice seeing Strout and Hodge, but who am I kidding. I realize that the kids at that open mic are the reason I stopped writing. I know that labeling yourself as a 'writer' at High Point Regional High School made you a pseudo-intellectual fighting to be the next great poet. I know that constant judgement, big headed-ness, and competition made me stop having a passion for something I loved so much, a passion I have not found again to this day. I know that going back there might stop my return to writing as I know it, but yet I know I'll go anyway. I hope I don't get stared down (again).

One of the recent poems I wrote got turned into lyrics of a metal song. I'm not sure how to think of that either. I listen to the song, not recognizing the words through the screams and then a clean part breaks and there it is, my words. Its a very strange feeling. I'm not sure whether I love the poem more, or whether I want to tear it down and throw it away. Its almost like as soon as I hear the words I hate them and am embarrassed by them, even though technically now they don't belong to me anymore. I think I like it though. I like knowing that's my poem hidden under the music. 

Trash Talk

This could have quite possibly been one of the best shows I've ever been to, which I know I've repeated on three other freaking websites but I don't care at this point. I've been so stressed lately that it was just great to release everything and not feel so lame at the same time by sitting on the stage and being like every other girl. It felt so good not only to release everything I've had pent up, but be the only girl who had the balls to do it. I loved the feeling of jumping past the girls in dresses and snotty faces to get into the pile on, and the looks of surprise by everyone around me when I walk out sweaty and smiling. I'm going to have to do this again very soon.

Knighted

I was knighted tonight by Cody. I guess this means I'm officially straight edge? I wasn't aware there was an official ceremony, but I'll take it.

I just got word of a couple kids being caught and charges pressed for trespassing at Plastoids. Its so upsetting realizing that I'll probably never visit there again now knowing they are starting hourly searches of the premises. Its strange to think that a dilapidated could mean so much, but its true. I just wish I could have left my mark on the wall. Its a shame that I already bought the spray paint.

Cody, you're my rock. Thank you.

Some Thoughts

I just refound my creative writing blog and am thrown into so many emotions I have long since forgotten.

I was talking to an old friend last night. Its funny how after all these years, some things still ring similar. Its almost as if no matter how far you float, the world is still so small.

I think after reading all this old poetry, I want to start writing again. I miss having that expression and I'm sick of going through my days with no creative release. Even photography doesn't do it anymore; for some reason I'd rather crawl through the ruins then capture them.

Its getting warm again and hopefully that means the outdoors will at least save me from this house. I'm so pent up from a long winter that I curse every April day when its pouring.

I really want to start getting into graffiti, even if its just jumbled words on some wall that I doubt anyone else will see. Maybe I'll start buying canvases, taking away the fun of the illegality, but making it more easily assessable so I'm not so constantly frustrated with no release.

I've been thinking a lot lately about going away to school, and the implications of being a college student. At a recent open house, my mother questioned parties on campus, as if my moralities would somehow disappear as soon as I realize there's a kegger nearby. I realized that I'm past any point in my life where that would be appealing. As soon as I got into my accident, I realized it wasn't worth missing life constantly because being in another state of consciousness is more appealing. I love my life and I want to live every minute of it. Also considering I've already made the step in becoming a vegetarian, why would I destroy my body senselessly with mind altering nonsense? I want to stay healthy and live healthy; my liver's already sustained enough abuse. (Kind of considering calling myself Straight-Edge, but not sure if I want to deal with the "gang related" implications, slash the fact that it took me a long time of careful though to come to this conclusion).