i understand that the way meth is supposed to work is to mess up your rewards system. you end up addicted to a hormone, and not to meth itself.

but, my response is not give me rewards, or give me death!

rather, it's stop "rewarding me" and fuck off.

maybe there's some connection to the fact that i've never been a keener. i've never had an interest in being at the top of the class, or working my way up the ladder, or really winning at much of anything - i've always preferred to project mediocrity in the physical realm, and then be a god in my own fantasy reality. so, what meth is doing is setting off a hormonal reaction that i've never craved in the first place. and, i'm not craving for more, but pleading that they turn it off.

as i've always said: what "reaching for the top" means to me is that i must have left my beer on the top of the book shelf.

being awake for days is fun.

and, being stoned is sometimes fun.

but, being awake and stoned for days is the definition of hell.

i don't need or want drugs to help me stay awake for days at a time.

the manic phase is far more enjoyable when it's organic, because it doesn't come with an artificial buzz.

getting out of the apartment this morning took me away from the poisonous smoke for long enough to allow me to come down, which gave me an opportunity to actually sleep this afternoon, and i took it over running around looking for a means to incriminate the source of the smoke.

i'll get the drug tests done in the morning.

i have the windows open and my winter jacket on to compensate. but, there will no doubt be plenty more poison wafting up tonight.

http://www.cbc.ca/news/health/pharmaceutical-drug-company-doctor-physician-payment-disclosure-transparency-1.4169888

occam's razor is that the doctor was/is a shill for the pharmaceutical company, and was just looking for a new victim.

but, is there a chart? and is somebody taking orders?

you can never be sure what they do or who they call when they turn that corner...and mu experiences have made the paranoia hard to completely shake...

i think they'd jump at the opportunity to wipe me out. sure.

and, to the fucking dipshit calvinists left standing, get this through your thick heads: my aversion to labour has nothing to do with drugs.

i am sober, and i still don't want to work.

and, if i had to waste all fucking day at some stupid waste of time piece of shit job, i guarantee you i'd be more interested in blasting away my individuality in a blaze of dead brain cells, because i'd have nothing else to live for besides my own self-destruction.

i've told you repeatedly that this is a philosophical position, not a mental illness. and, people of the future, in a post-labour world, will look back on me as the only sane person on the entire fucking planet.

meth really isn't so dangerous - er "doctor" in windsor, ontario

my neighbours are smoking meth.

it's making me sick, so i went to the hospital.

they tried to prescribe me opiates as a painkiller.

fucking society. here's my prescription: destruction.

i'm not straight edge, but i'm a punk at heart, and i don't want to take non-recreational habit forming drugs unless i need to.

i have no interest in living in a designer drug society that prescribes a different pill for every problem.

so, you could imagine my frustration when the doctor listens to my description of being drugged by my neighbour's second hand meth smoke and responds with a suggestion to prescribe me painkillers.

i'll stick with aspirin, thanks.

"we don't prescribe aspirin."

yeah - i bet you don't have a contract with them, do you? you fucking pusher...

the thing is that she didn't drop it. she insisted that i accept an iv. and, i called her on being a pusher and stormed out.

all i wanted was a write-up for a vitals blood test. i want to know what they're poisoning me with, and how much damage it's done.

so, i'm going to try the clinic, instead.

fuck...