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against my better judgement


blood fart

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haters need to step off. chiiil.

 

i read this yesterday. i was going to comment that you remind me of my ex girlfriend who i cut off contact with after a long drawn out relationship. i wasn't going to post that because it didn't seem necessary, but i actually spoke with her today which is something i never thought would happen. she's home from the army and seems to have pulled her shit together nicely. we'll see though. last time she came back on leave she was bangin dope the whole time. hopefully she won't.

anyway, be good, stay safe, keep clean, stay positive.

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bloodfart

 

i would love to see him someday, and be able to say something to him that could have only come from you.

 

and leave him to wonder, WTF?!

 

His name is Einar KrisTjan Einarsson.

People call him Kris Red.

You should call him Frank D Panther.

 

I can tell you some things to say to him in Icelandic.

That would freak him out if you called him Frank D Panther and said something in Icelandic about cats and money.

 

Then throw a cup of pee on him.

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haters need to step off. chiiil.

 

i read this yesterday. i was going to comment that you remind me of my ex girlfriend who i cut off contact with after a long drawn out relationship. i wasn't going to post that because it didn't seem necessary, but i actually spoke with her today which is something i never thought would happen. she's home from the army and seems to have pulled her shit together nicely. we'll see though. last time she came back on leave she was bangin dope the whole time. hopefully she won't.

anyway, be good, stay safe, keep clean, stay positive.

 

Hopefully your ex can stay clean and make a happy life for herself.

I always like happy endings.

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BF if you drop a book will it have more personal stories, most of the intense stuff happens to other people in your stories i know publishing to a board you have to keep somethings private. But i think when someone writes book esopecially involving this bad of drug addiction it is alot more personal and graphic you have pretty much kept out alot of stuff about yourself meaning details of horrible things private. Will a book be more intense, or am i just having to much of an imagination? Maybe im just thinking to much but i would think your personal experiences would cement the stories if written in book form.

 

just thoughts.

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I am not sure how detailed I will be comfortable getting in my book.

There are things I know I will never speak of.

Things I pretend never happened.

I don't know if I want to have to re-live any of that.

 

There will be things written about only myself.

It's just there are always a lot of players in most things I have been through.

And not everything will be about past drug addictions and crime.

When something takes up 10 years of your adult life, it's hard to not have a majority of your experiences relating to that.

 

I will probably write some about my childhood, as well.

Things that shaped me.

 

I have things that happened in the last 5 years that I will write about.

Relationships.

Death of close friends.

My niece.

Vacations.

Family life.

Things like that.

But for the most part, my life is pretty average now.

Not saying I still don't have adventures from time to time.

Just mostly, it's pretty mundane.

 

I don't know exactly what route I will take in my book.

What I will and will not talk about.

 

Like I said, I am very comfortable in who I am.

But that doesn't mean that I want to put everything out there.

 

It doesn't make me mad when people talk shit about what I have to say.

Or tell me to go post on some emo board where they will love me.

Time and time again, people have shown me that they appreciate what I bring to the board.

Those who don't, there is always the "ignore" option.

Feel free to use it at any time.

 

Thanks for always having my back, dudes.

Really.

It makes it easier for me to talk about things when I know that you guys got me covered.

 

And not everything will be sad.

Or depressing.

Or whatever.

People tell me all the time that my words make them depressed.

But that they can't bring themselves to not read what I write.

Double edged sword.

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His name is Einar KrisTjan Einarsson.

People call him Kris Red.

You should call him Frank D Panther.

 

I can tell you some things to say to him in Icelandic.

That would freak him out if you called him Frank D Panther and said something in Icelandic about cats and money.

 

Then throw a cup of pee on him.

 

 

 

i'm gonna have to remember this somehow

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I spent high school with 2 girls that were very much like you. There were many other people but us 3 were always together.

One is in Alaska in the air force, is married and has kids and the whole normal life. When she finally got clean she vanished for like 4 years.

Two hung hereself in a tree with a chain in the woods by where we use to live. SHe hung there for over a year till some kids found her and drug her home to there parents thinking she wasnt real.

Ive kinda kept up with all "those" friends since ive moved on from that life. Most are still fuck and there are days where i almost long for it,even after all the years, fuck the rent, fuck the car payment, fuck it all, mostly the pills. pills were nice. ive been drug tested almost monthly for the last 5 years and im glad, id slip if i could.

 

BF do the book, and keep posting your stories, they are the highlight of the board as far as im concerned.

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Against my better judgement tonight I will go hang out with my BFF's soon-to-be-ex-husband again.

He says he wants to buy me Sparks and pay to get my hands/fingers tattooed.

Man.

Sometimes I can be such a horrible wreck of a human being.

And an even worse friend.

 

There is a little sign on the wall next to me that says,

"You will never overcome your fear that your writing is insipid or incomprehensible or trivial--write in spite of it."

 

I guess my mom's little motivational bullshits work.

To some degree.

 

You guys have fun tonight.

Nobody die.

Or go to jail.

I will try to do the same.

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i really really love this thread. i grew up with two counselers so i hear some of these stories but its nice to step away from all the "graff" and /no homo and shit talk and hear some real compelling storys that really make you think. keep it up blood fart, its great to hear that your life has changed for the better. props.

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Last night.

Things got real radical.

Then real guilty.

About things being so sexy.

 

I showed up at my friend's place.

There were some metal dudes there.

We talk about things.

Me being totally awesome.

Shit like that.

 

One of the dudes looked familiar.

In the everyone knows everyone way.

We meet and shake hands.

I know he has a twin.

I tell him I have met him or the dude who looks exactly like him before.

I didn't tell him how.

Or that I had a drunken bromance on the concrete floor of a warehouse.

After some vegan potluck and punk show.

Years ago.

That I know either him or his twin in the biblical sense.

 

 

So.

We weed.

Dranks.

 

We go to the neighbors' place across the way.

 

l_d552136a0e4020e2d66d53625780f56a.jpg

 

I get my hands tattooed.

In a spare bedroom.

By a nerd.

His out-of-work stripper girlfriend got me totally weeded.

And then I fell in love.

With a sweet cat.

That was pretty into hugging me.

We talked a little back and forth.

About him being totally adorable and cute.

 

My buddy told me he could see my heartbeating fast.

In the vein in my neck.

I told him it was all the magic and excitement in the air.

He understood.

 

We go back to his place.

His mom is passed out on the couch.

We hide in the record room.

I believe he pulled the ol' King Diamond romance move on me.

 

He told me how it was something important that he paid $20 for my tattoo.

Because he doesn't pay for tattoos.

For himself.

Or anyone else.

Ever.

I think it was the metal dude way of telling me he loves me.

 

He also did the whole,

"It is so radical hanging out with you and I always have a really excellent big fun time and you rule and I am glad we know each other and are friends and hang out."

Shit.

 

Awkward.

 

Sometime in the evening I realize it is hard for me to stand and not swerve.

So I tell him I need to lay down.

He couldn't fold out the loveseat fast enough.

It made me laugh.

At him.

For his eagerness.

 

I told myself that making sex was off-limits with him.

To think of it like making it with a 13 year old.

Morally unacceptable.

 

Later in the night I realized I am a huge jerk.

With no self-control.

Or morals.

This all hit me as dude was peeling off my jeans I had poured myself into.

And again when I actually said,

"Don't be so loud, I don't want to wake up your mom."

Really.

I am such a horrible person.

 

The only thing that can wipe away this guilt is cream gravy.

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Guest shai_hulud

Meh. At least you didn't stab him and steal his record collection.

 

I got into a similar situation recently with a friend of mine. I think I told you about this, BF.

 

Same thing. Long night of drinking, I don't want to take the bus home, and I didn't even get to finish the sentence, "Is it all right if I...." before she was making out with me.

 

Clothes came off, things happened. I'm not really into hooking up with girls (ho nomo) right now, for a lot of reasons that are totally valid to me. Yet, I did this..and haven't talked to her since.

 

I feel a little bad....but, it really wasn't what I had planned for the evening. I could have kept my clothes on, but I didn't...so, that's on me, I suppose.

 

You'll be all right. You're not the first peoson to do it, or the last.

 

Oh yeah...i like the way RJD is framed and flashing the horns in the middle of the shot.

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It's not really a big thing to me at all.

I mean, sure he is technically still married to one of my best friends.

But they have been having trouble for some time now.

And are getting divorced.

Whatever.

 

It's kind of weak that I can see that he is in love with me.

And that I should try not to be so awesome and make things like that happen.

But he's moving out-of-state today.

So it doesn't really matter.

 

He has given me so much radical shit this last week.

Trying to show me he cares.

 

It's whatever.

I'm not worried about any of it now.

Just saying.

Shit happens.

Sometimes more than once.

There's nothing I can do about it now.

Except regret it.

And I try not to regret anything.

 

It was real awesome at the time.

Even if I knew it was wrong.

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