It's always the drugs, Jim.

[Dysfunctional Cunt]

It's always the drugs, Jim.

You walk down the street, and you're surrounded by people doing crazy things.  Spouses arguing with each other, making their opposite number hate them for no reason other than to win.  Some dumbass shooting another dumbass because he felt he was disrespected (because prison guards respect you, dumbshit), some ignorant fuck having a "Tucson moment" because he thought his Hummer2 made him invincible in traffic.  You know what I mean.

But the world can't be that crazy, Jim, it's just not possible, is it?  No, it has to be the pills.  It has to be the drugs making you think that Tucson creeps into every facet of daily life, making things horrible and weird, and usually in a bad way.  It has to be the pharmaceuticals that made that off-duty police detective cry into his whiskey the other day, out of sheer frustration. 

He hadn't even started drinking yet, and there he was, crying and repeating "It isn't supposed to be this way.  We had a lid on things, and they laid all the uniforms off and the desk sergeant is selling go-pills to the ones that are left, because they work 12 hours instead of 8 now, and the bodies are starting to pile up again, just like the bad old days."

What the hell do you say to that, Jim? 

You don't, of course.  That's just the whiskey talking, even though he was still contemplating his first drink of the night.

It's just the drugs that make you think that Tucson is seedy and horrible and filthy, and if you cut back a bit, maybe things wouldn't look so fucking run down, and maybe you'd stop noticing the people waiting.

They wait, Jim, or it seems they do, for hours or days or years or their whole lives.  That overweight kid waiting in front of the video store he works at (You can tell by his shirt)?  The store closed 3 hours ago, and he's still waiting with his sad little backpack on his lap.  He looks like he expects to wait a lot longer.

Everyone here seems to be waiting for whatever it is they're waiting for, and you want to grab them and shake them and say "YOUR LIFE IS PASSING YOU BY!  DO SOMETHING WHILE YOU WAIT!"...But they won't.  They'll just wait, because that's how the Spider has them programmed.

And if you weren't so fucked up on drugs, you wouldn't notice or care.  It's someone else's problem, after all, and you have a busy day.

It's always the drugs, Jim.

Okay for now,
Dok

You know, I would love for it to be something as simple as drugs Dok.  Something they could get a cure for or rehab or something.  Otherwise Dok, it means they've just lost their minds.  Dear lord Dok, can they really be that blind?  That stupid? 

And even as I type that, I think about what was on the news this morning and I know that yes, then can indeed be that blind, stupid and even more ignorant than the monkeys they came from.  They are burning the city down a block at a time.  They manage to kill someone EVERY. FUCKING. DAY!  Somebody in this city gets shot and killed every day.  Do they not feel their lives slipping away as they just stand there with the blank look on their face and the smoking gun in their hands.  Do you think they get home and notice the overpowering smell of the gasoline they used to torch that house down the street?  Or do you think they just sit there sniffing their fingers and laughing with no one to hear them, and no one to care? 

And these people seem to hate each other for no reason other than the other one exists.  But no one cares enough to do anything about it, and in honesty, I don't know that anything could be done anyway.  What options?  Mood control drugs in the water.  Fuck that, just knock them all out and let them sleep the rest of their lives away.  We can turn the shopping malls into medical control buildings and hang everybody like they did in Coma.  Let them sleep until they die because it's not like they are doing anything worthwhile anyway right?

And I have to wonder if maybe it isn't easier Dok, to just take that other  little white pill, you know the one, and float through the days believing in a change that will never happen and a better world that will never come to be.  Thinking that we can trust our government to do what is best for the people, not for themselves. 

Pass the bottle....

[Richter]

Complacency is a drug too, if I haven't said it enough already.  You get addicted to it when everything is quiet and OK.  Then when things get weird, you don't want to give up the quiet, the normal, the regular, so you cling to it.  You dose yourself with "Everythign is FINE.", because it's all suppsoed to be happening right? 

Just turn your head, act like the weird isn't there, and it will go away right? 
Only an isolated incident. 

That trenchcoat flasher on the corner?  You're only encouraging him if you blush, scream, or turn your head and hustle away.  Express approval if it's approval worthy, or express your distaste with a swift foot of editorial to the genitals.  This is problem solving.

[Adios]

As I lay sleeping on my back I realized that something comfortable was under me, gently stroking me. My sleep was getting deeper and deeper. I felt something cool wrap around me, and just a tiny sting, not enough to even notice, really.

Slowly, steadily, one after another of these tentacles gently wrapped around me, searing themselves ever so tenderly to my flesh. I seemed to mind each one a little less than the previous one. It had been a long time since I was this calm, this comfortable.

Then I tried to move an arm and was unable to. I wasn't terribly bothered by this, although it seemed like I should be. Then I tried to move my legs, and again I was unable to. I started to get a bit scared, but then I could feel all the tentacles gently, lovingly squeezing me in perfect harmony. They were telling me it was alright, this is the way it's supposed to be. Seducing me by reminding me of how comfortable and calm I was.

I could feel something being pumped into my body with every squeeze, but what awoke me was I knew that something else was being sucked out. I screamed and tried to fight my way free. Those gentle tentacles were suddenly steel cables, unbreakable and inescapable.

I was trapped, I had allowed this to happen. It had happened in a moment of weakness when I was tired and beat down from seeing the horror every day. I began fighting harder, the once gentle restraints were now tearing my flesh, white hot bands that would never release me.

Suddenly I saw a tentacle for what it was. It was something in me, craving to unknow, desperately seeking to unsee it all. As I realized this the band of steel collapsed. Then one after another snapped as I realized I was the one who had put them there.

I was free.

[Dysfunctional Cunt]

Complacency is a drug too, if I haven't said it enough already.  You get addicted to it when everything is quiet and OK.  Then when things get weird, you don't want to give up the quiet, the normal, the regular, so you cling to it.  You dose yourself with "Everythign is FINE.", because it's all suppsoed to be happening right? 

Just turn your head, act like the weird isn't there, and it will go away right? 
Only an isolated incident. 

That trenchcoat flasher on the corner?  You're only encouraging him if you blush, scream, or turn your head and hustle away.  Express approval if it's approval worthy, or express your distaste with a swift foot of editorial to the genitals.  This is problem solving.

I agree people want things to be ok.  They want their lives to run on that even keel and have smooth sailing.  

I'm not trying to solve the problem, I don't think there is a true solution and even if there is, the damn monkeys aren't going to cooperate anyway.

I'm the worst at if you ignore it then it will go away mentality.  I can't let myself get involved.  I can't save these people.  I cannot continue to wipe the blood off my hands and just go on like nothing happened.  Slapping bandaids on mortal wounds.  So I ignore it.  No it doesn't go away, but it isn't in my face anymore either.

Does that make me a terrible person?  Someone who no longer gives a flying fuck about the general population?  I've gotten to the point I don't care if it does or doesn't as long as I'm not a part of either the problem or having to come up with a solution.  

[Richter]

Complacency is a drug too, if I haven't said it enough already.  You get addicted to it when everything is quiet and OK.  Then when things get weird, you don't want to give up the quiet, the normal, the regular, so you cling to it.  You dose yourself with "Everythign is FINE.", because it's all suppsoed to be happening right? 

Just turn your head, act like the weird isn't there, and it will go away right? 
Only an isolated incident. 

That trenchcoat flasher on the corner?  You're only encouraging him if you blush, scream, or turn your head and hustle away.  Express approval if it's approval worthy, or express your distaste with a swift foot of editorial to the genitals.  This is problem solving.

I agree people want things to be ok.  They want their lives to run on that even keel and have smooth sailing.  

I'm not trying to solve the problem, I don't think there is a true solution and even if there is, the damn monkeys aren't going to cooperate anyway.

I'm the worst at if you ignore it then it will go away mentality.  I can't let myself get involved.  I can't save these people.  I cannot continue to wipe the blood off my hands and just go on like nothing happened.  Slapping bandaids on mortal wounds.  So I ignore it.  No it doesn't go away, but it isn't in my face anymore either.

Does that make me a terrible person?  Someone who no longer gives a flying fuck about the general population?  I've gotten to the point I don't care if it does or doesn't as long as I'm not a part of either the problem or having to come up with a solution.  

No, to a point it makes you a reasonable person.  None of us are expected or requested to jump everywhere, solving everything we come across.  There's a line in action, what kind of action, and inaction. 

You make a good point.  Excessive use of "I have to solve this", or too often caving into "If not ME then who?" reasoning will get you invovled in a lot of shit that is not your problem, and donating to every sappy ass charity in existence.  We need to dsicern where and how we do what we do, sicne there are whole industries grown around trying to make us help.

No set rules when and what falls where, no one said this was going to be easy.

[Adios]

Dok, sometimes you frighten me. And I am fearless.

Hawk,
exorcising voice mail.

[Doktor Howl]

Dok, sometimes you frighten me. And I am fearless.

Hawk,
exorcising voice mail.

Get an extra priest.

ALL YOUR VOICEMAILS ARE BELONG TO ME.

[Pope Pixie Pickle]

this fread is

It's been 7 months since I had my reality filters changed for me. Weed for Risperidone. i wandered around in a green haze for years, rather than fight my way out, and now I sleep all day and play games.  Im drowning in the drugs and the aftermath.

I cant see a way up and out over it all.  I miss the drug that fucked me up still. So, what will i do tomorrrow to change it? Probably fuck all. All the urge to do Something Else got ripped out of me and replaced with Some Kind Of Crazy.  All the avenues towards change seem to be long and filled with beuarocratic obstacles and poor mental health services.  i need to stop procrastinating. in fact i have done for 13 years now.

Maybe tomorrow I will start to pull my shit together.

[Doktor Howl]

this fread is

It's been 7 months since I had my reality filters changed for me. Weed for Risperidone. i wandered around in a green haze for years, rather than fight my way out, and now I sleep all day and play games.  Im drowning in the drugs and the aftermath.

I cant see a way up and out over it all.  I miss the drug that fucked me up still. So, what will i do tomorrrow to change it? Probably fuck all. All the urge to do Something Else got ripped out of me and replaced with Some Kind Of Crazy.  All the avenues towards change seem to be long and filled with beuarocratic obstacles and poor mental health services.  i need to stop procrastinating. in fact i have done for 13 years now.

Maybe tomorrow I will start to pull my shit together.

Tomorrow kills.

[Juana]

I spent about an hour last night, trying to come up with something. And failed, so I closed the tab and went back to my life in this little slice of Everything Is Fine - because that's a place, too. Hell, that's my half of the city (this city isn't a City, by the way. It wants to be, though, the silly thing). It's tense here, and anything that is different than or denies that Everything Is Fine (the Obama sign in the neighbor's yard, the "No on 8" sticker on their car) is loathed immensely. You can feel it, too, when you walk passed that house. It's thick and heavy in the air, and you sometimes hear the other neighbors make snide remarks about it while they watch football in their garage and drinking bad beer with the door open.



On another note, this kick-started a project long on the backburner, given that I spent most of that hour last night trying to come up with a way to explain the place I live in. Photo-essay ahoy!