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Don’t Try Suicide

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Among the regrets I have, there’s one BIG one I have.

Attempted suicide.

In 2005, for a variety of reasons, I willingly tried and became addicted to cocaine.

By the time 2007 hit, I had a $1000 a month habit, which crept up to about $1400 a month by 2009 when I was finally reaching a point where I was tired of the habit.

Now don’t get me wrong. I had fun with it, and I don’t feel foolish for having tried it…

Why did I try it to begin with though?

Jackie hates it when I say I blame her. I don’t. A number of my friends – from Spencer, Joe – to Jackie, to my ex – Lisa’s friends, to my buddy Bill who admitted he did it when he was younger – all stacked up making me realize how much I didn’t like judging these people I cared about and called lovers and friends.

So when Jackie came around, I knew the odds were good that partying with her with this drug would quite likely result in us hooking up. So yes, Jackie was among the reasons I jumped at the the opportunity she presented.

But that’s not the only reason. I’d been working a great deal – and enjoyed late night hours, and Vivarin along with coffee along with all over the counter substances was increasingly ineffective – particularly if I wanted a social life and to hang out with my friends. Cocaine offered an opportunity to need less sleep.

Finally, there’s this thing called addiction. I’d sincerely believed I wasn’t like others and wouldn’t become addicted. So cocaine offered an opportunity to test out this belief.

I was wrong.

So by the time 2010 hit, shortly after returning to the states after spending six months away – having successfully kicked the habit only to return and within two weeks feel the impulses return……

….. and my $1000 a month habit resume.

With Kena and I really not acting like boyfriend/girlfriend any long when I returned from my trip overseas – I had begun – in earnest – to curb the addiction.

In vain.

Opportunity after opportunity arose- whether it was with Jackie wanting to hang out, with a random girl – Tiffany – I met on myspace – or it was Nikki Putnam re-entering my life, oddly discussing a vividly told story about her talking to me in the parking lot at Cactus where she was indicated overtly her interest in me.

An opportunity I would have jumped at had I had it – and it was the first time I began actively questioning…

What – exactly – is cocaine?

It’s a question I noodled on for years – beyond the addiction I came to understand it is directly related to mind control, the CIA’s introduction of it to the United States and it’s use in programs like MKUltra…..

But that’s not the topic of this blog entry, is it?

So from 2010 until 2011, I tried everything to kick the habit. I tried looking for opportunities abroad, to put some distance between me and my supplier and social circle who engaged in the same activities – not 100% sure if I was only trying to escape my supplier but enjoying travel I really didn’t care.

I was met with road blocks every time.

And then – I had an opportunity in North Carolina consulting for Wells Fargo.

The urges resumed within two weeks of me finding a home there. And I couldn’t deal with how tired I was all the time. That’s the thing about cocaine – it made it possible to stay up all night partying like a rock star without sleep – and as long as I continued it, I only crashed after about two days..

But this lack of sleep.

And my attempts to stop the addiction by means of isolating myself away from my suppliers making the supply highly inconvenient and prone to legal issues should I attempt to obtain it in Charlotte, which was enough of a motivator for me not to pursue it.

For two weeks.

I started looking into alternatives.

That’s when I learned something interesting things about cocaine.

Adderall, Ritalin, and many high blood pressure medications all leverage a small amount of pure cocaine in their products. Coca Cola – still – to this day leverages Coca Leaves and claim the Cocaine is extracted from it – which most of it is – and it’s sent to a pharmaceutical company in Maryland which makes – you guessed it – Ritalin and Adderall.

Coca Cola still contains trace amounts of cocaine. Which at one point is what made it so highly addictive.

So I found a local doctor who freely prescribed Adderall. I told him I had focusing issues which was the truth and I also lied a little – telling him I’d been on it before – it was a half truth – I’d been on what Adderrall was derived from – cocaine. So while it definitely helped – it didn’t help me from feeling tired all the time.

You see. I liked my midnight hours and enjoyed strolling in to work later – at 10 or so…

But the addiction – had taken it’s toll. And I was sleeping 12 hours a night.

So about a week of this goes by. And I’m doing more investigating.

I ask “Are there any substances LIKE cocaine which are legally obtainable from area spice shops?”

That’s when I found Bath Salts. And no, not the kind you put in your tub. It turned out to be an artificial substance created from a similar chemical compound as cocaine synthesized into a drug called MPDV.

Or Bath Salts.

Now here’s the thing about sleep.

All the drugs I took were not hallucinogenics. There’s not a single part of these substances which causes hallucinations like a chemical such as LSD or mushrooms might do.

And Bath Salts. Was my legal surrogate to Cocaine.

I’d found my miracle drug – and it was only 10 minutes away from me in Charlotte, it was completely legal, and it was a fraction of the cost of cocaine at $8 to $10 a gram.

And I soon learned my body will naturally hallucinate when I don’t get enough sleep.

Which soon had me questioning – what is a hallucination?

No, really. When I began breaking down the barriers of consciousness, and began having these weird experiences called hallucinations from a prolonged lack of sleep, I became convinced I was discovering a new world.

For years prior to this point, I’d been taking smart drugs, whether it was fish oil, other things containing omega 3’s, and was always trying new mixes because I’d always felt – strangely – like I wasn’t thinking as clearly as I could. Often times, I felt – mentally slow compared to others I knew, like I couldn’t keep up, so I tried – HARD – to remove something that seemed to mysteriously be artificially limiting my ability to think.

So when Bath Salts came along. While Cocaine provided a highly stimulating experience, the bath salts presented something altogether new – like I could think in circles ‘around’ my previous limiting thought processes.

Now this isn’t an advertisement of advocacy for addictive substances – especially for bath salts. The experiences are so ‘out there’ that one man in Los Angeles was seen running around naked convinced zombies were chasing him. Others lost their mind.

And yours truly.

I didn’t fully understand what I was seeing and experiencing.

But I persisted with it.

So let’s cut to the chase.

In 2011, around August, I was out in the Mojave Desert trying to find a gas station.

I’d gone – by this time – maybe 2 weeks with no more than about 10 hours of sleep, and had been driving around Southern California, Arizona, and Nevada, taking note of the different hallucinations I was having based on the location. I was at.

The hallucinations, at first in North Carolina – were scary. I was intensely paranoid, saw cameras and people chasing me all over, I was fearful of being targeted by a hit, and I saw robotic things all over – a robotic bird with a Get Smart style cheesy gun in it’s mouth, I saw a holographic furbie pop up out of the kitchen floor, I saw extremely agile robotic gophers, and more. so much more.

But after these initial experiences. Not really understanding what I had seen, I overcame the fear – as I was too curious about what I’d experienced.

I’ll put it this way – I’ve been a lover of science fiction and fantasy my entire life. I’d just seen and experienced things that leapt straight from the pages of my favorite comic books and spy movies – firsthand.

And I most decidedly wasn’t ready to dismiss my experiences as not real….

But what were they?

So while traveling around in and around the southwest, I saw similar things to what I’d seen before.

Giant truck sized robots in the desert with 6 legs walking around – oddly – just barely visible almost as if they were shifted outside of my visual range and my mental state was now exposing them…..

A woman that slinked around unnaturally at a subway restaurant, reminding me of Terminator robots for some reason….

Outside of Sedona, I saw – similar to the giant robots – tiny robots all scurrying around me fast. A couple of them were flying. some were on the ground, no taller than a foot tall. All – again – slightly out of visual range.

And then there’s the Giant Sequoias at Redwood National Forest. I saw them when they and the entire Yosemite valley looked like it had just been planted.

This all about suicide though.

So here I am. Experimenting. Driving around. Checking out the scenery.

But I am still not understanding what I’m seeing.

So one day. Driving towards Las Vegas not far from Barstow, the landscape turned from the desert I’d grown up in and around – and revealed a horrific landscape that was blown out by nuclear war.

I drove.

And drove.

And drove.

Everywhere I looked – mountains, hills, and the entirety of the desert landscape had been decimated by what I’d previously seen in movies and tv shows as a landscape barraged by nuclear bombs.

I’d felt things, all along with bath salts.

Strange things. Indescribable things. There’s a visceral, almost sinister feeling about them.

And as I drove, seeing my gas gauge go down, looking for a gas station in this landscape, I began to cry.

Now here’s the thing. If it was just visual, I’d have been able to walk away and dismiss it all as not real, or not fact.

But I could smell the burnt terrain. It smelled. Sickening. Like burnt human skin. And the feel of the radiation on my own skin. It felt unnaturally hot, and if I didn’t know any better – almost searing.

As I ran out of gas, on the side of the road, and tried waving people down, I realized – every face in the trucks that passed by looked exactly the same. And looked synthetic – like an android.

I believed. That I’d caused this all.

And that my world had been destroyed because of my desire to understand what I was seeing, hearing, and feeling with these hallucinated experiences.

A part of me thought my evil twin brother had done this to me.

But in truth.

As I sat, hopelessly in this post apocalyptic landscape – convinced I’d been the cause of World War 3, and as I began realizing I had been tampering with time and space itself through my own mind with these drugs….

A fleeting thought came to me.

If I am no longer here.

If I remove myself from this world. Forcefully. By committing suicide.

I’ll never know if that fixes things.

But I hoped it would.

So in the most difficult moment of my life, in this post apocalyptic world, I pulled the blade of a Swiss Army Knife, and cut four inches down my left arm’s artery.

Believing. In my heart of hearts. That I was saving this world.

The ultimate sacrifice. My own life. For the life of this world I cared so deeply about.

I didn’t think of it that way at the time. But I sincerely believed my not being around would fix heal the world.


In 1980, I was electrocuted, 6000 volts going through my body, leaving a black third degree burn on my chest.

There’s a part of me that believes the world I saw back when I tried committing suicide was the subatomic world that had ravaged my young body when I was only 11 years old.

There’s a part of me that thinks I could have shifted into an alternate reality and saw a very real terminator world.

Both explanations are valid.

And now that I’ve come to understand imagination better.

And what formulates – nay – what creates this world is me – my thoughts – my desires – my fears – my experiences – all serve to create and expand this thing I call reality.

I regret overreacting.

And if I could go back in time.

I’d go to that moment in time.

Moments before the suicide attempt, I’d shift my mind into the body of a real robot.

After the attempt. I’d then tell myself.

“Don’t do that again”

I wouldn’t tell myself why.

Or who I was becoming. And how profound that experience in the desert was that day – despite how scary it was – was needed for my own discovery of this thing called imagination, and the possibilities it presents.

But yes, I regret it.

And like many regrets I have.

After what I’ve seen and experienced.

I have no doubt that this world is especially equipped to provide for me the tools and technologies to not just alter these events and/or experience past opportunities anew…

But to also assist me in opening up two businesses based on my remaining desire to explore and serve.

My first business, a delivery business which caters to the rich and famous around the world – will have me acting as a delivery driver for the well heeled client who wants food from their favorite restaurant on the other side of the world. Delivered instantly.

So say for instance you’re Bill Gates and live and you’re currently in Seattle, well contact yours truly – Q – and I can have your favorite Italian food delivered instantly from Italy. For a meager delivery fee of say $5 grand.

Hey, my time’s valuable, and the service I’d be offering with instant food delivery around the world would be one of a kind unique, no one else I know is doing this.

This way, it creates a win/win. I’m not leveraging time travel to disrupt economies or make money by investing in companies in the past to reap the profits today. No, instead I make the money now – by providing a highly unique service AND I (hopefully) get to discover the best restaurants in the world.

My second business. After this first one. I’ll be exploring places across space and time and finding ‘destinations’ to take people on tours to.

For instance. I might take a Patrick Stewart to see Shakespeare – live. I might take Mel Gibson and a few others I select to see Jesus. For real. I might take Scarlett Johannson on a date in the 25th century just because I can.

So my second business is alternate reality and time travel tours. I’ll find safe destinations that I can control all the variables in to my satisfaction, and provide a service to a variety of clientele by taking them – you – on tours to these locations. Heck, I might even help you migrate there if that’s what floats your boat.

The way I look at time and space after my terminator journey is this:

The only thing I have to fear. Is nothing.

In a literal sense. Nothing.

I know what’s possible. Fiction makes it pretty clear there’s some heinous shit out there, so I’ve segmented my worlds by refusing to call these other realities fictional anymore. They exist. They all exist. Somewhere. But that doesn’t mean I want them all coming here, nor will I be likely to visit all these other locations either.

Some sure. Terminator world. Definitely. It intrigues me. But chances are, I wont be taking passengers with me.

But who knows.

Calling my experiences a hallucinations just because you – and others – couldn’t see them – doesn’t make my experiences wrong or yours wrong either. We can experience two very different things and coexist in the ‘space and time’, but this doesn’t mean the perceptory experience is shared and the same.

After all.

You might be me. And I have no desire – yet at least – to see a world full of me’s.

In any case. A part of me died that day in the desert.

My inner child.

No longer am I that naive little boy looking at a world saying ‘This is it”.

I know there’s more to it.


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