Wednesday, May 26, 2010

Codeine and Vodka

sans vodka.

I'm high off codeine right now. It feels very similar to marijuana, except with codeine you have to deal with the terrible taste and initial nausea. With codeine, there is also more of a physical tingling/throbbing sensation, particularly in the hands.

At least that is how it is for me.

I'm about to seal the deal and smoke some (vape!), but not before entering a few words into this white text box...

Wait a minute -- *takes puff from inhaler after cough attack* Ahhhhhh.

- - - - - - - - -

The reason I am abusing substances right now is because I seem to have bacterial bronchitis at the moment. Well, I suppose this is not abuse since this is all legal. (Feel free to skip the next few paragraphs, it is a bit redundant)

I have been sick for the past three weeks. It started out with an innocent tickle in the throat, just in the morning and at night, for a few days. Slowly the feeling grew stronger, but I, being the dumb retarded ingrate bitch that I am, ignored it, until I felt an increasing sensation of daily fatigue, but all was manageable.

Until that Thursday two weeks ago when I woke up with that horrible swollen swelling brain dizzy feeling. Since I had already been waking up and feeling sick already, I tiredly proceeded to my morning class, only to find that the feeling was ever increasing. I came home desperate for my bed. In it, I collapsed, and the sensation of murkiness subsided as I fell into a deep sleep.

This phase of the sickness continued for a couple days, then transformed into a few days of extreme congestion, then extreme runny nose, and now I seem to be in the final (I hope) phase, Cough Til' Ya Die (nix on the dying). (Fareal though, I was contemplating going to the emergency room on Sunday night when breathing got difficult, this prompted me to finally see a doctor the next day)

Of course, these symptoms love to mix-and-match, but for the most part, I'm just in coughing mode now.

- - - - - - - - -

Was there a point to me stupidly describing my very-bad-cold in detail? Of course not, there is never a point to anything I am saying.

But, probably what I am trying to say is that my body feels like shit, and as seen from my last post, my mind feels like shit. On top of that, a cold sore has developed on my lip, which is not only gross, but also troublesome because I never used to get cold sores, but now I do, due to my body being constantly weakened by physical and psychological stress. AfterawhileallmybitchinggetsreallyredundantandIcangoonandonabouthowunfortunateIam, but perhaps I can reduce my argument more-

The other day, I was watching Addicted (say hello to my inner sadist) about a woman addicted to prescription pills. Boy, was she fucked up. Day in and day out she'd be poppin' those pills, and it's not like she'd go crazy and recklessly run about town with a fucking machete. Rather, she would sit on her couch and eat cereal, and suddenly slump over and fall asleep into her cereal. Then awaken and spend the rest of her day as a drone, entering and leaving reality, quiet with her body tilting at various angles.

There is our world, but she simply wasn't in it.

Okay, it sounds frightening, but in a way, I understood. To not want to deal with all these affairs- family affairs, friend affairs, work/school affairs -the business of life, a never-ending to-do list. You pop em' pills and it's an escape.

Unhealthy, nonsensical? Yes. But do I sympathize? To an extent, a smidgen of an extent, yes. The older and "wiser" and more stressed out I get, the more I sympathize with such behavior. Who wants to deal with the daily bullshit anymore. Who wants to work with the premise that you must earn money, because that is the fundamental tool for success in this society (more or less). Who wants to make relationships with people that ultimately will never understand you.

So that is when you start to become a drone.

There is more to life, I understand that. I am not a cold-hearted bitch, at least not completely, not in essence. But there are times when I'd like to clear my mind, lose all this negativity. So that part of me "understands" drug abuse.

Anywho, thank god fo' weed.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Black Birds On A Scarecrow

As women, we are under constant threat. A thread of hair lies misaligned, our makeup is not perfect. A shoelace is stupidly, untidily untied, but stupider is not wearing heels or "female appropriate" shoes. Our body is misshapen, and our face, asymmetrical.

Our body and our mind, is at times, a disaster, and we spend our whole lives trying to "fix" it, if only it were possible.

Machines and scientists and scalpels to fix your body, but nothing to fix the psychologically oppressed mind of a woman.

Never thin enough, never smart enough, never good enough. Women are constantly teetering with their self-worth, always in a battle, of Am I Good Enough, Was I Ever Good Enough, and Why Can't I Be. They are constantly comparing, denying, and objectifying themselves.

And for what? the prize of the male gaze, intellectual gratification, personal worth, "love"... ...the most ridiculous part being that we're to attract men (speak: MEN!!!), and so it is for this that we've twisted the ideal image of the female again and again- He says that this is what she must look like. He says this is what she must act like. In the meantime, she struggles to become a She.

It is no coincidence that amid thousands of years of human existence, across different cultures and spans of time, the woman has been condemned, always placed at the bottom of the social strata*. And for what? For childbirth? For our weaker bodies? Our soft minds? Our incapacity to learn?

I don't know where I'm going with this. Only that as I gazed at myself in the mirror this evening, I was so unsatisfied with what I saw. It was not just my reflection that disappointed me, but my wavering attitude towards life, my inability to meet my own wild/outrageous expectations -- the failure of passing some retarded test I had given myself.

And for what? What am I trying to prove and who am I proving this to? What is the point of all this?

As a self-conscious preteen I had always imagined not a world of humans, but a world of souls - where there is no physical manifestation of the self, just souls to judge each other by. True character. Doesn't exist, of course. Merely a fantasy.

I'm not having the best night, for sure, but I'm only wondering what day I, and other girls like me, will quit being fascinated by the mirror and what we see (and don't see). The Reflection is an Infection.

I had pondered this as I stared at my dark brown eyes, the dark bags underneath that highlighted my tired skin. Now, my fingers try to form the thoughts I had been thinking at the time -- Believe me, my reasoning sounded far better in my head.

I cannot, do not, speak for every female. I am merely trying to shed light on a short feeling of female insecurity that all women feel at different times in their life, this feeling that Society (patriarchal society, what have you) slapped in our face with His dick.


Anyway, some other time I can develop my thoughts more on this. Knowing myself quite well (and yet so unwell), tomorrow I will probably be posting something on Why Women RULEEE and get all Amazonian and shit. And then Why I Love Men, and there'll be a picture of Zak Bagans in raver pants.

I mean, who cares though. We're all just sum hoes and bitches.

*but still above the Jews.

Monday, May 17, 2010

Make you feel that way

Make you feel that way...

Up and early for the hope of a brand new day
See a homie you ain't seen since back in the day
Fresh haircut fitted wit a fat ass fade
End of work, we chilling on a Saturday
How you felt when you first heard the data came
Rakim KRS hey I had that tape
Cooling out with ol girl on a fat ass date
Find a hundred dollar bill wow man that's great
Get promoted at your job up to management
Plot a long time finally a plan has made it
Time I feel I wanna shout, man its real that way
Wanna think of things that make you feel that way


Christmas day when your mamma got your first bike
Type of feeling when you went and when your first fight
How your team felt winning championship games
Celebrate in a huddle dancing in this rain
Have a thought see a shooting star cross your screen
Put in hard work finally your living your dream

Deaf man get his hearing now in come vibes
Blind man get sight see his first sunrise
Dumb man speaking out, now he's load and clear
Earth through your chout smile so proud ya wear
Going in your third eye for the styles ya hear
Making music that'll bump for a thousand years
Eating right feeling conscience like health is first
Said a prayer that's sincere and you felt it work
Times I feel I wanna shout, man it's real that way
When I'm thinking things that make you feel that way


All up in her vibe something coming over me
Summer days more likely that you notice breezes
Winter days more likely that you notice heat
When I'm warm more likely that you notice me
In the dark it's more likely that you notice light
In the light more likely that you notice night
Hungry more appreciation for that meal
Dead broke more appreciation for that grill
A bad day'll make you really notice ones that's good
And that'll make things a little better understood
Times I feel I wanna shout, man it's real that way
When I think of things that make you feel that way
Make you feel that way...

(Ya know its like ahh like the most greatest feeling you could ever feel
you like just total illation. Sunny day, just that day.
You know its just like you know just the most joyous feeling
you could ever comprehend. You know, chilling with your family.
You know just you know just really really feeling,
feeling the moment, with the folks. Ya know really really really just chilling.
It's love. It's love. It's love)
Song makes me happy. Lyrics are a go.

I had a bad day. I was exhausted. I still have a bad cold and have been coughing till my eyes tear up. From dawn till dusk I'd been working on school related things: waking up at 6 am, driving to Davis, realizing I never did my homework due at 10, stressing, giving up, bullshitting, realizing I would be busy all afternoon and night, and on top of that, had a group meeting at 9 p.m. of all hours, and still more to do after that.

All because I didn't do shit over the weekend except play.

At the same time I thought of how wonderful the weekend was, how much fun I had with my friends, laughing and joking and fucking the weekday, because fuck the weekday.

And I was thinking this morning as I was driving in the Monday Bay Area fog gloom, falling in and out of traffic, how much I hated the start of Monday; that's when the flood of thoughts come in and all the things to do and how much I suck and how much school sucks - back on the Monday grind when I fucking hate the Monday grind.

Fuck the grind, fuck Mondays, fuck routine. So sick of the same shit day in and day out. So fucking pointless.

Such are the relentless negative Monday morning thoughts of May Yang. Not like this every Monday, but on particular Mondays of stuffy nosedness, headachiness, cloudy, rainy, stress-provoking, almost Finals, Monday, Monday, Monday. Didn't U2 mean to write "Monday, Bloody Monday" instead of whatever crap they wrote? Sundays still have promise. Monday is only good because it leads to Friday.

All in all, I felt like this all day:
Cloudy headed, disconnected, & fucked-up looking.

It wasn't until the end of the night did I remind myself of the Universal Rule of Chill. Just gotta chill sometimes.

I'll be cool man. Just gotta take it slow, breathe a little, laugh a lot, smoke up when I need to. I got all the right tools - friends, family, etc. - just gotta u-til-lize my resources, yanno? & shit.

Pop dat Dayquil/Nyquil, (didn't know combining Sudafed and Dayquil could potentially cause death), drink cough syrup like you're Lil' Wayne, smoke a blunt, whatever.

Coo'. Chill.

Everything's coo'.

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

A trip down memory lane

Some of my best memories have been made while high.

I could have pages and pages full of fun/funny/questionable high memories, had I made the effort to write these things down.

Sudden flashback(s) of before I "came out" with my pot smoking:
The ritual of going to a certain friend's house late at night. Sitting on her bed, waiting for her to pack that bowl in her hardy ass bubbler. Sneaking out quietly and hiding in the shadows outside. Inhale. Hold it in. Let it out. Oh shit. Cough. Giggle. Oh shit car's coming. Oh shit was that your dad. Again and again.

Going back inside her room and chillin'. A lot of times we would whisper for no fucking reason. Then we'd be like, aye! why da fuck we whisperin?! Watching television. Sitting in silence for long periods of time. "Dude we've been sitting here for like 20 minutes not sayin' anything!!" "Nah dude, you trippin, it's only been 2 minutes." "WHAT THE FUCK1". Explosion of laughter. "See, now we're not whisperin'." "Yeah, why the fuck were we whispering." I swear this conversation seemed to happen every night.

Deep thoughts thinking. A floating body. Being in another wooooooorld.
Well. That was a whole 'nother stage of my personal "high evolution". Highvolution. That was when I first started getting high on the regular, but not on the daily. Just weekends and breaks from school. My tolerance was much lower and each experience was very special.

It all seemed so damn special to me.

Like, oooh, it's late. Everyone's going home. Time to smoke. That special time to tune out.

No complaints. Not sayin' my high experiences aren't awesome or meaningful now. They totes are. Not sayin' I don't get high to tune out from the big bad world anymore. But the aforesaid story is a very special part of my High Life. The whole ritual. Of getting high with your good friend before all your good friends were toking (well, to be fair, they ALL were already, just not as much as now).

Also the secrecy...
made it fun.

The exclusiveness.

Don't get me wrong though. I still got mad passion for pot. That was just another chapter of mah life.

I be movin' on now and shit. I speak different too! Motherfucker!

note: Contrary to what you may think, I am not high right now. I am merely contemplative.

Monday, May 3, 2010

It's 3 am and I'm ruminating over the shet-load of things I must do this week. They include:
  • A midterm
  • A "midterm interview" - basically an oral midterm for Chinese class
  • Advising appointment
  • A quiz on Freud's "The Uncanny"
  • 2 quizzes for Chinese class
  • A Shakespeare essay (4-5 pages)
  • Schedule my first interview for my editorial internship (gulp)
I'm up right now after spending the latter part of the night studying for the midterm - still a long way to go, but have to stop and continue after my Chinese class tomorrow. Am now trying to finish my Chinese homework that is due in the morning. And thinking on what day shall I start x in order to turn in x on such and such day? (Example: Must read Shakespeare on Tuesday and have outline done by Wednesday? Read "The Uncanny" on Tuesday before class, but then when do I finish the chapter on Psychoanalysis? Etc, etc.)

I'm stressed out - need to time-manage more efficiently.

My memory is becoming more and more impaired. I forgot where I read - a Yahoo article I think - that the type of person who, on the daily, is forgetting where he/she is putting his/her keys a minute after putting them not just a "forgetful" type, but simply overscheduled. Biologically (neurologically?) inept to handle this much.

A brain can only handle so much. A no-brainer, really.

Also doesn't help that my body serves as a chimney for all that pot smoking. Knowing that I would be regretfully busy this week, I left my newly purchased quad (of C-4, a potent hybrid) at home. Less smoking this week, lady. (I do have an edible on me -- it's waiting.)

If you'd like to take a peek at my smoking habits the past month, please check out my daytum account. These statistics are from a lot of guessing. I think it's fun!

I'm clearly a stoner. I don't know why I'm sober right now. Oh right, that homework...back to that.