10 Grams of Meth in a Toilet

Posted on by meltingneurons

I know a man who threw away 10g of meth. Down a toilet. Intentionally, during a moment of lucidity. He woke up from his dream. He didn’t do it for the posturing or the bragging, he did it because he had a fucking moment and things added up.

He saw his future was his past and all that was going to come again. The regrets. The broken relationships. The self-hatred. The loneliness and the pain. The body count and the desperation. The stagnation. The missed joy and thrill of life. The empty smile and the personal failings. The prayer for death unanswered.

It hit that water in the toilet and didn’t even stain the water with some indication of all the soil and grime that its brand had left over the years. All the marks on his morals. His appreciation of life. His awareness and understanding of the world and himself. His inability to connect and always be “other” – not in a way he was proud of, but in a way that left him sullied and greasy where it would always be felt most.

He wasn’t going to revisit and replay what had come before. He was learning gratitude for all the experiences, painful or pleasant, and that meant realizing that the pain had only needed to happen once. He didn’t need to put his hand back into the fire like always. it was still fucking hot and he was worth more than scorched flesh. He wanted to, could, and will become more. He’ll evolve, be seen in the mirror as true to himself, a good friend, an honest and genuine man, and as a survivor not an unchanging Peter Pan chemical fiend. Wreckage for decades as his only gift to the world, a Lost Boy playing pirate to his own loot.

He had learned, was learning, would continue to learn. He would grow.

I know a man that threw away 10g of meth. Finally took a dive and emptied a bag, got back on the horse, and welcomed in a change for once.

Stay that road fucker, I miss you.

Gratitude in Babbling

Posted on by meltingneurons

I threw away – more than I can possibly ever know or be able to reclaim. Pissed on kind intentions and raged misery and ego all over the plains. Took a journey on down a reflective road to see all the sights, but clouded my own vision with diatribes and babbling, kept looking for fights.

I don’t know what the future holds, I really don’t. I’m finally finding a sense of comfortable joy, in fits and bursts. Though I sabotage and get bent on all of the angles, I still view the world like it’s filled with radiantly brutal warriors and angels.

If I’m wrong about that I can deal, I’m no winged wonder, I’ve been a sinner down and deep where I did it with zeal. Things are getting better, bit by bit, and as the aha moments come rolling in slowly I’m determined to do a new schtick. Be less of a fuckwad, a characteristically shitty bastard, aspire for genuine goodness, where the ins match the outs and I don’t get so lit.

In all that the shitshow has been, I’ve been authentic and genuine with intentions which paved the road. Indulgent and ego driven crying woe is me and missing the love for the gold. I feel there’s a crossroads, and maybe it’s gone past–but if today isn’t my last then there’s a sun rising that will spew out something less ugly. Empty promises and words that they sound, like a toddler I’m making strides, looking at legs and feet that are found. I hope that the memories will linger forever, not turn tail and hide.

With all the mess that it’s been, and the errors all around. I’ll take my shovel of shit, make less of a sound. Inside everyone that I meet, I still see a chance for a spark, a moment of beauty, that sets each of us united by something, never alone from the start.

I’m coming back to myself in whatever ways that I can, stripping away the poisons bit by bit (I say that while high, I see the hypocrisy, can’t avoid it). I’d like to give back what was given to me, have some of those mercies that others granted passed back with sincere care, compassion, patience, and something I’ve heard of but rarely had attention for, empathy. Life may have been pain, self-inflicted and then spread around–today I’ll stand grateful, humbled, astonished, and numbed by humanity as they abound. I appreciate on the basest of levels, the journey it’s been, the cost it tolled on those who cared for me, and the joys and smiles of the future.

For all that this is lilting, and trailing off poorly, thanks for all the fish you miraculous world, despite the fact I’m running late, the new morning may come early. I’m at a loss for words now, and I’ll need to do some review, but to anyone who spent meaningful time with an ungrateful oddity, thank you, I apologize, and I love you, thank you for taking the time to help me see everything around me with new eyes.

Thank You

Posted on by meltingneurons

When I was covered in blindness,
one voice called out with love and empathy,
understanding, and compassion without compare.
It said “Find your inner peace,
be happy with who you are
fear not the monsters in your mind,
you don’t understand even what they are”.
The sound pressed heavily
on a head split wide with fears
found measured pain to empathize
sounded like it had shed its share of tears.
It said, “I’ve walked this path,
I’ve trod where you have been,
forward but never straight,
no signposts will you see,
until you’re past where it begins.”
In those lowest moments,
the light seemed not to shine,
the wielder of the loving whip,
a teacher I once thought of as a divine.
Was giving as was got,
despite cups of repetition while I whined, .
So while I beat myself to pieces,
unerringly fueling on the game,
focused on my misery and anger,
while inside I was broken hearted
and obsessively driving myself insane
At last it past, the world and love was open,
anything was possible and real life itself was the reward,
I went on down the familiar trails in a rage,
I’d forgotten completely what it felt like to be bold.
In those precious moments,
That second birthing chance,
where I was open to myself for once,
I could have run on forward,
a knight onto horse while grabbing lance.
I faltered then, that moment and the one that followed fast,
I wouldn’t make the moves.
I wallowed in resentment and the past,
Became an asshole at so many points,
didn’t believe I was capable of making a new choice,
reaction took over hearing,
washed out that blessed voice.
Personal truths and understandings,
Passions and pursuits that now I will pursue,
taking steps to get real help
to actually follow up on what I say I’ll do.
The capacity to look inside,
to be a creator and a giver,
someone who makes instead of breaks,
an actual member of the world,
instead of just some guy.
I’m in a place where I’m finding myself,
and the confidence to be okay with who I am,
I’d like to offer up my gratitude,
and my apologies if I fucked it all up
made it so nothing went to plan,
I took the road most comfortable,
the devil I knew seemed easier,
I know that now for what it is,
a betrayal and a filthy sham..
There were answers in your words,
they echo in my head,
If I had bothered to hear rather than be heard.
I might not have wound up halfway dead.
Now that I’ve been laid bare,
To where my eyes could finally see,
I’m taking breaths of air and life in baby gasps,
becoming something better than an asshole,
someone that I’ve never really been, me.
Recognizing that life is beautiful and valuable,
something absolutely wonderful,
if you reach out and confront true potential,
tread softly, think lightly, and try not to react.
Actually decide to be a player in the game.
Get your points from being who you are,
no matter what that looks like,
the truth will take you far.
Embrace love in all its forms
and own your actions instead of placing blame.
So while I still may stumble,
Hell, I know I get way the fuck off course,
there’s something I need to say
that I lacked the ability or clarity for.
that my actions made impossible,
that I wasn’t ready for until today
I’d be arrogant to presume I could say them best,
I’d heard this song and wondered at the words
it’s so damn clear it seems,
I missed the message all those times,
while walking through a dream,
missed the hope for the fears,
I’m finally able to reflect and smile,
rather than focus on the screams
“Thank you for all the doubts, and for all the questioning,
for all the loneliness and for all the suffering.
For all the emptiness, and the scars it left inside.
it inspired in me, an impetus to fight.”

The lyrics used are from VNV Nation, all credit due to their brilliant writing. Here is their song “Gratitude” which you can listen to and read the rest of here.

I Was a Stigma to Myself

Posted on by meltingneurons
All credit to Emotive Brand for the image.
So often I would sit and wail about "why"?
The frustration unending,
the obsession ongoing,
a gut wrenching demand to understand 
that in itself
kept me from the knowledge,
the peace I sought.

Sick in the head druggie,
psychopath,
crazy as a shit house rat,
lunatic,
insane,
addict,
"something's wrong with that kid" -
Drug user stigma phrases shown on an image with a haloed syringe from the words.
All credit to Stonetree Harm Reduction for the image.
I tried to own those labels
make them something to be proud of.
I tried doing that,
by doing all the things
I imagined people with those labels would do.
I followed that up,
by demanding that I not be persecuted,
not be judged,
not be looked at differently,
though I had just behaved in a way that demanded all those things happen.

Now I come to terms,
sit with the idea of peace,
find pride not in my actions
but in the understanding
that awareness and acceptance bring.
To know that I am not an actor playing out roles,
that I lost myself,
but I am a survivor,
no longer needing to play the role
of victim or perpetrator anymore.

It's a small thing,
Which means so much to me.
To be able to introduce myself,
engage in a conversation,
with confidence.
Know that I accept who I am as a being,
that I no longer let labels
define who I choose to see myself as,
act as a script for my identity,
or be my scapegoats when I screw up.

That like so many others,
I am the hero
and the villain,
of my own story.
That my abnormal mental states, 
my addictions,
all the resulting experiences,
are gifts to allow me opportunities,
to shine my brightest
against the backdrop of adversity,
and decide just how much of it there would be.

To know that there are others out there gleaming,
and if we encounter each other
it could be in the form of respect and love,
admiration for the battles fought,
no matter whether they were felt won or lost,
an opportunity to compare notes and grow.

I'm not ashamed of who I am,
or where I am today,
I am disappointed in many of my choices
but they have been mine to make,
and they were made.
I used to have a vision of the perfect person,
someone that I would measure myself to
and inevitably fall short.

Today I am me,
released on the world
perfectly defective,
beautifully abnormal,
gifted with challenge and capacity for growth.

All of it,
so that I have a chance to become
an oh so slowly evolving,
human being.




Shine the Light

Posted on by meltingneurons
Showing denial as an image.
Denial.

An imbecile with brains to spare,

if only it didn’t get wasted on recklessness and flair.

A heart of gold that’s caked in grim so foul by

denial in fluid form quite thick with salty accusations.

The entropy which held his corroded soul?

Only his own beautiful and despairing wiles,

his mental contortions and poorly calibrated machinations.

Knowing where to breach the wall starts up a new trip,

destination target of personal acceptance where he wouldn’t have to be so slick.

So out the fingers onto board,

let introspection guide–it’s time–

now to scour honestly at what really is inside.

The good, the bad, the disgusting and the brave.

Let’s turn the light where it should shine,

come to love yourself and be unafraid.

Written during an interlude to personal evaluations that have been a long time coming. It’s not all black or white, and that’s how I’ve looked at it for so long–either I’m a good person or a bad person. Reality is I’m a good person who has done and does bad things wrapped up with a bad person who does good things as well–happens to support the delusion that while I’m doing one I’m not the other. I have despised myself, been hopped up and arrogant, placid and timid, confident and sincere, dishonest and truthful–but I have never really sat down and recognized the individual parts of the whole to welcome them in and actually come to peace….my hope is that for whatever reason, that process starts today.

Actually doing some of the work for once instead of just expecting understanding to shit brilliance on me at some random point.

This runs in conjunction to me getting back into treatment though I never thought I would and despite still (poorly) struggling with the old demons. And, while terrified that I’m just wasting oxygen while doing it, I’m finally engaged with a full PACT team of recovery specialists to help give me a pathway and outline to work within to get healthy mentally and spiritually–become a viable member of the community instead of a pariah.

Last thought I suppose, because I know I’ve ground out so much vitriol here on my vomit board over the years–self indulgent and caked with inconsideration at many points–unappreciative of much that happens around me because I don’t understand the workings of the world nearly as well as I once pretended. Today I’d like to express some gratitude for the strange things that happen, both the uncomfortable and the “saving grace” moments. Times when you find that missing pot which vanished, or you forget to turn your headlights off for two hours but your car still turns on, your friend just happens to be there right when you turn the corner, or that any of us find love to begin with. Thank you and my gratitude to the invisible universe that makes it all happen. I’m going to marvel at the beauty of it more and perhaps be less confuzzled and distressed by the parts I don’t understand.

Much love, and thank you for reading.

-Melting Neurons

Many Voices

Posted on by meltingneurons

The tails on most all the letters go wavy, curl left
to a place they’re drawn to instead of from.

Many, however, jut down aggressively as though engraved,


digging trenches in the flesh of pulped tree skin.

Some lay delicate and feminine in their perfect order

others are hewn out with unkempt urgency and demand.

Each flourish, keystone whimsy given form

holding tight the lines, the words, the sentences.

Reviewing the ink gives eyes a chance to wander

pages strewn with discordant emotional ink stains.

The beauty in being fractured as a human being

is that you speak in many voices while seeking to find you own.

Ghosts of words and men on Bourbon St.

Posted on by meltingneurons
Image credit to Destination America

Older man now still chasing the speed of youth,

that magic release it felt like when finally

words would reel off the end of mental tongue

hang lovingly over the thought of pausing

crash headily into a flock of fuck-its

on a once clean and crisp page.

Chase that dragon and his friend,

slavishly bursting with a desire to create

fabricate, detail out something grand.

Have people questioning their perceptions

wondering where time has slid off too

drop by drop, carpe diem, another glass fragment

shifted out the bottom of the hourglass.

There are no epiphanies though,

no monumental Staffordshire bulldogs of arousal

that fucking bark and yap to be released in a crescendo of brilliance.

Just a desire for words it seems.

Something to quell the silence, push it away

give the erratic husks some movement back inside

where all those fiend spun neurons lie gasping.

Deeply depleted, running on random jolts

and chemical cocktails of enthusiasm,

diving for the closest rush of emotional splendor

so that I can etch away its finery

longing and pisspants whining for the chance at joy

but always refusing to bask in happiness.

Because all the words at my beck and call,

And it turns out….

….no, no, no, NO, not another one of these baleful fucking tunes.

Let them slip slumberous and scantily clad,

banshees at a jazz show on Bourbon St.

wailing in satisfaction that they are free and alive

settle down to some post-mortem beignets

a fresh cup of chicory blasted caffeine sludge

one last “hand grenade” to balance the boat

skin those yapping pups into submission

waiting for the dark to creep back in.

Blessings past death and the holocaustic ruin

peppered across an ignoble pursuit of the end of everything

weak-kneed, monochromatic, repetitious cycle rinsed and repeated,

a prayer to consistency and predictability

stability held dear during the wildest storms

even if just to dig one more shovelful.

You carousing, pithy skin sacks of arrogance and shame,

I see you there, you aren’t forgotten.

Clockwork paved roads that seem to spill wheels and gears,

springs and mechanisms all across my feet as I unwind another,

stumbling, less regularly, less urgent the staggering,

less is there that violet hue of madness thickening the air

glossing out the glow that once we all embraced in ourselves,

saw in everyone, sought to share with each stranger.

words and a face shattering grin,

perfect tone, chuckle, and off-kilter phrase

each syllable an expression of fireworks

ruptured too early and spraying fearfully shiny things

spontaneous wonderment at existence.

The belief that if I just keep writing,

The words will lead me inward and home—

—and I’ll finally have something special to share again.

Changeling Duet

Posted on by meltingneurons
Something, just something.

Fucking Schizo

Posted on by meltingneurons

If I saw the world with more love than confusion,

I would be less volatile and be more human.

So though I give all I think I can,

Reality is fleeting and leaves me half a man.

Another round of choices made and reactions gone all wrong,

I thought I finally chose the joy instead it was the same old song.

I’m sorry that I’m flawed and cracked the walls a bit,

It’s up to me to enact the growth and be worth all of this shit.

.

Hey there Teacher

Posted on by meltingneurons
Fuck-ing bull-shit.

Hey there Teacher,
with the faltering step and the windblown hair.
What’s the story all about,
the one you told from the side of your mouth.
Where honesty met a curve,
tongue lolled to one side and spilled out some verbs.
I know it’s tough to turn the glass,
that shining mirror which overwhelms the past.
Where bullshit shines greasy like sludge,
and all the distortions are gone,
back to the mud.

Hey there Teacher,
with the drugs in your system and cheap sex on your brain,
Do you remember when you stopped learning and just sought out pain?
Stopped spitting out wisdom and bought your own lies?
I know you know the system and how it all spins,
I didn’t think you one who would cheat to win.
Thieving and twisting until your charm is clear,
problems abound but you never paused to hear.
Words and actions meant to help and soothe all your fears
but you were too deaf and I was too near.
Fucked up actions that caused all the pain,
hell you admitted the abuse from your side but then changed the game.
Cut out the bullshit and tell it all true,
I’ll try the straight route and see what you do.

I cheated – when I thought things were open,
so you fucked three more guys and used sex as a weapon.
I hurt you with words – called you freeloader and more,
you called me a psycho, a piece of shit, pathetic, and evened the score.
I didn’t make changes in the ways that I should have,
didn’t take the time to address my behavior in the ways that I could have.
Stopped taking my meds to test out a theory,
that I wasn’t so crazy just misinterpreting the scenery.
I didn’t have the courage to stand by my gut,
so I broke like a loser and washed myself free of blood in the cut.
I didn’t trust you completely and thought it was trash,
an actress putting on skins and a falsified past.
I actively ignored you and left you to your own devices,
was bitter and hateful and often times spiteful.
All the while I bent the world to help you realize your dreams,
pulled out the stops, went into debt without question,
begged on street corners when shit went south even though I wanted to scream.
Started school, accepted disabilities, got a job, begged my family,
all to put food in our mouths.
I changed my approach a thousand and one ways,
became more patient, understanding, sought to attain empathy,
sympathized, recognized, and upended my reality,
all so that I could spend time with you for some much needed days.
When I asked for time and some space to calm down,
you pushed, poked, and prodded – gaslit me all over town.
You had me fooled for so long that I lost who I was,
abused me emotionally, mentally, and then called it love.
When push came to shove at the end, long past due,
asked to be friends then found something to fuck with again, even if it’s true.
So I snapped and said I was done and that it was all dead as could be ever
blocked you like I’m supposed to and wished this would all blow over.
I’d forgiven you for everything,
moved past it into the future where I saw smiling people and less lies.
Then you guinea pigged me and question why I lashed back,
you robbed me digitally for the last of my stack –
the money I sent you strings free the week before when I still had nothing,
might as well have been burned.
The cops could have put you in jail,
they have your license plate number now–watch out for that tail.
I asked them to drop charges and they said they would,
my comment was, “she’s in a horrible situation and deep down she’s all good.“
But then I find you spewing hate all over my safe place,
the one outlet I find online.
Evidence says your besmirching me everywhere at this point,
reaching out to other exes and raising unnecessary hell all over this joint,
trying to get my goat got – and I understand that’s just fine.
So realize that while you’re smoking that next bowl,
hooked on the shit and getting tagged for it on the down low,
I’m happier now for a month then I have been since I met you,
not intended as a stab, just honesty, since I look back on our time with regret and much rue.
I regret and apologize for all of the fights,
we should have never been together, you and I just aren’t right.
You were my entire world, believe it or not, and by you my sun set and would rise.
Special you wanted to be and special you were,
now you are nothing but a nightmare and a thieving cur.
And if you want to go fire with fire we’ll both of us burn,
don’t make me reopen charges and shine a light on your emotional spurn –
meth, dick, deceit and theft, you’re the one no one should trust,
hell, I shouldn’t have for a second and I hate that I still feel like I must.
So go lay in the gutter all filled with hate,
funny how it rings so loudly as manipulative a classic NPD emotional quake.
Fuck your intolerant and misjudging voice,
you’ve slandered my ass far too often to care, but that was your choice,
I learned enough from you and I’m done with the lessons,
you speak pretty proudly for a someone who treats their latest attachment as a lifelong obsession.
Clearly your conscience is clear, there are no places of doubt,
I wish you would actually finally cough up your bullshit stories and stop playacting on what this was all about.
Shower someone else with a thousand dull points,
bleed your issues on them till you’re all run dry,
except that you don’t want to do anything about them, you don’t even try,
you just want the sympathy to help you look good and pure while you endlessly justify.
Goodbye for forever, and good luck out there,
Please don’t come back into my life,
we shouldn’t have married, I was no husband and you were no wife.

Hey there Teacher,
with the red eyed face.
I made mistakes and fucked up your life and made it all bad,
but I thought we made our choices ourselves and shouldn’t be sad?
I adored and admired the person you were,
but now you use my name like some dirty slur.
I won’t darken your days or your nights,
all I ask is you get gone and do what is right.
Teacher, you’re all that I needed,
but it’s time to staunch the wounds and stop the bleeding.
Good luck in life, I don’t wish ill on you despite what you’re feeling, I swear,
someday, hell, you might even see that I genuinely cared.
I found that “me” that I lost,
the confidence now to not get talked in circles like a fighter might box.
I’ll share my happy with the world with refinement and friends,
now that your sickness is gone I can finally breath again.
No more second guessing – nothing that won’t make sense,
Hell, I’m back on my meds and feeling peace and its wealth.
Feeling feelings again that aren’t belittled or kept stealth.
I’m free and wished you well while you stole from the bank,
no more parasite on my soul and my heart watching and mocking
while the ship ran aground and sank.
I’m not perfect, I’m deeply and totally flawed,
but your hate is misplaced, and your speaking all wrong,
if I was more talented I’d try and put it to song.
At least then you’d pay attention and might actually have listened,
which I didn’t do until it was too late,
that’s another fault of mine, an ommission.
but that’s ok, it was an error, something I would have changed, a MISTAKE.
So Teacher, the class is dismissed and we’re out of session,
I’ll end this babbling shit show with some questions.
Why is it that you hate me for everything that’s passed?
You’ve done just the same, mimicked my every action in fact –
each nail you drive home, does it stick also to you?
Do you recognize the hypocrisy your hate is laced thick with?

Do you even fucking care to just look at what good times we had as a gift?
The only thing left when the love died was respect in what you were –
does it hurt to know now that she’s gone, that imaginary incredible girl?
The one who says she wouldn’t tell anything but the truth,
never be vicious, always patient and would never steal.
You’ve broken every value you pretended you had,
why am I’m supposed to be the one that leaves this situation feeling terribly bad?