It won't be no joke when your nose is broke

I don't have a fancy banner, I'm afraid.

I've tried to resist this evolution but to no avail. The majority of my entries have become FRIENDS ONLY. If you would like to read all the gory details then just add me and I will notice and most likely add you back. Also please leave a comment here to introduce yourself and tell me how you found me. Thank you!

 Creepy community: Daily Doll

Please comment if you're still reading me.  Thank you.

 It feels so fucking good to be writing again.  I'm not sure if it's the writing itself, or the validation and praise I get from you guys.  I am a whore for approval and love.  Maybe it's both.  I guess it doesn't matter; I know it's good for me.

When I read over my entries from years ago I am impressed. I used to write much more fluidly and unself-consciously than I do now. It was good stuff! I'm hoping that what "they" say is true, that as I write more it will come back. That the memories will come back, and also the gifts.

 I just wanted to thank everyone who has maintained faith in me and in my journey.  It's meant a lot, and it worked.  Thank you.

I just got out of rehab again. You'd think that this wonderful boy would be enough to keep me clean and sober but he is just another human power and no human power can relieve me of my addiction. So I'm looking for a spiritual solution and I need it badly. I'm in oceanside on the freeway with my parents and Blake. We are going to meet my stepsister and niece for dim sum.

I have everything in the world and all this love. Everyone is going out of their way to help me, making crazy sacrifices. I'm grateful, I really am.

But right now all I can think about is getting high.

which sucks because Blake is next to me making up songs about surfboards and angry boats and he is this amazing child who makes everyone around him happy. and I risk losing him.

This is how it went:
- Dreaming - Blondie
- That song that starts "You are the woman that I always dreamed of"
- Express Yourself - not the NWA one
And then I remembered how much I love you
and I wished you were walking through the door
so I could give you a big kiss.
- Killing Me Softly - the original
Instead I texted you and hoped it wasn't as inadequate
as it really is.

I tried to skim over some of the LJ changes and controversy from a couple of months ago. All I know is that I just went to a friend's journal and saw ads. I don't think that is supposed to happen to "basic" accounts. Fix it!

I read somewhere a long time ago some guy's philosophy about drugs and alcohol. He said he wanted to try everything once, so he'd know how it was and wouldn't be curious forever. Maybe it's a common plan. I thought it was a cool idea and decided to do that myself. The problem with that strategy, of course, is heroin. Or oxycontin for that matter. Or slamming oxycontin or its equivalent in the emergency room, faking pain so bad you need it. You really do need it, but not because of the kind of pain they think you have.

Anyway, that was then. I'm grateful most of the time to be more or less clean and sober today.

I miss writing like a limb or a psoas muscle which is to say probably not enough. No, it's enough. Once I start then I miss it like water and I'm thirsty.

In the interim I've read all of Jane Austen, the new Janet Fitch (who writes Los Angeles so lovely and accurately that it's sad to look up from the page and realize it's 2008 and not the same city, really), The Ruins of California which is another brilliantly described slice of California in the seventies, and a handful of less memorable books. I'm starting The Almost Moon now.

I hope to come back now. I want to just write, forget about any pressure about chronicling Blake or motherhood or working on THE BOOK. Just write, here and now. Write. Blake is still a wonder, remarkable, funny, intuitive.

How's everyone else?