This is real serious for dope

Here meth is white dope and heroin is black dope.  Pot is green dope.

People are just so funny here.

What is God?  Am I still God?  I don't really think so.  He cries that he needs a lone place.

I guess Mom wished me to greet her for her words, which were "people are people."

Those are ,my words, which are boring and useless.  I miss people who care about art.

Today I am going to find out whether I am going to the adult foster home this week.

Both Jamie and my brother want me to ho (go) there.  I am going to get drunk.  I am not going to use meth.  I won't be able to afford it.

I want to travel and go to graduate school, but I am lost.

In the system makes you a nothing.  Maybe I will find friends.

What difference have I made to anyone (such as Rusty the retired business professor who went to Northwestern and the Fletcher School of Diplomacy at Tufts University?)

evidently sisterhood does not apply to me because I am going into the system, which probably is much less harsh than I would find in New York, though there would be infinitely more chances to go to CUNY or Columbia or treatment places like that.

Is this good?

I am alone part of life.  Part of life.

Love under will belongs a lot of places.  The universe is only one of an infinity according to Kiristianna who had me stare at an extended Star of David to expand my horizons.  A multiplicity of crosses are in military cemeteries, where some pagans are buried with a pentagram to signify their paganism.  I wish I could write in the shape of a pentagram but I don't know  yet  if I can do that on a computer.  I would have to reprogram blogspot.

What wanks your people?

No more wanking.  Oceans.