strength, sunday and sanity…

I hate Sundays with a passion. This one is no different, even if the last few days have been a mild delirium brought on by funny legal fake stuff. anything to keep the grog at arms length..

And as Sunday, I am close to breaking point. since 10am I have been fighting that god damn urge to get pissed. Just get rid of today. Why? Tomorrow is no better. Every day is the same. Sundays just stink and feel like a crack in the reel where the pointlessness of it all loops over and over…

So what am I going to do… not even 2pm. the ebb and flow of strength of my will is wrecking my thoughts. an endless stretch of nothing lays before me, how to unburden myself of the necessity of enduring it… yet I know beyond the seeming insurmountable hurdle before me, is an oasis of sobriety. Something I crave beyond self destruction, once more. I no longer want to decay before the world, cast aside as the nothingness I have been treated as. I want to feel the relief of waking and not feeling dire. Of not having anxiety that runs through me so traumatically it takes my breath away and leaves me in such a panic, feelings of impending doom and finality… to sit with death, every hour of every day, is to not live at all… but to experience death infinitely, without ever having known life…

I despise this avenue of recovery. This route has many exits, so many lead back to obliteration… some to new routes, and some just forwards to the day, ultimately, where death will greet me.

What can I do to make it just this day. Just this 4 hour period. this marathon to beat my thoughts, to get there before they take charge, to lay down the rules for my mindset, no alcohol. No fucking alcohol. I am a cunt when I am drunk, to everyone. And I refuse to allow that arsehole to control me AGAIN. Fuck me.

meditation? perhaps an app on my phone that has walking routes laid out for people to ‘challenge’ themselves with – beat the times of others. no communication, just walk the route and record your time.  I could do this. I want to get back into outdoor activity, away from people, away from the cretinous society that lies and distracts.

mindfulness? once in a state of mindfulness I find it easier to maintain a sense of calm… but getting into that state is frustrating as it implies acceptance of the countless hours of endless nothingness.. I cannot fill the void with actions, actions have no benefits that I can see, at least within the scope of my options…

Sleep is the only recourse, and as yet I am wide awake, 2pm. Sunday.

I accept that today I will not drink. I am committed to remaining sober, regaining my composure, finding my path and resuming my life.

Every moment is the birth of a new event. It marks the passing of the last moment, and the preparation of the next. The only control I have is what I do right now, to remain accepting and committed.


Windows 10 – first impressions..

Having had tested windows 10 beta on a vmware vbox and found it to be different enough to warrant an install, but not of the beta. I had noticed a few glitches such as text appearing corrupt in explorer..

But lately I’ve seen the horror stories appearing all over the internet. People aghast at the audacity of having to sit through updates, which are sneakily sending all your private infos and id’s back to the super secret nsa agents who can’t wait to bust you in that adblock scam, you anarchists…

From it taking hours to install to it being full of spyware. If you’ve been playing along with google (and to a lesser extent samsung itself) then you’re already aware of selling your soul for the privilege of having a gps system in your phone, or having the nearest atm appear on maps so you dont have to meander the entire city on a sunday. Or just the simplicity of having your information transparently across multiple devices.

And even before this, cloud storage was the thing – apple were known to have exploits and backdoors long before google held much weight and certainly long before microsoft decided to play catch up and not break new water going nowhere…

So… I went through the hassle, signing up again to the M$ ‘let-me-be-a-test-dummy’ website, and waited…. waited and waited. NO email to tell me I’m allowed to go where no sane person has gone before…

I scrounge the website and find a utility called MediaCreationToolx64.exe which supposedly lets you upgrade to 10 offline, in order to manage multiple machines… I ran it, expecting to have to go through hoops and dodge catch-yas and so on, only to find that it asked me to upgrade, I said yes, and it silently went and got what it needed… near 3.9gb to be sure, but I was not interrupted once.

A short while later, a reboot. I thought it would now start the process of installing, but it decided to boot to the new Windows 10 desktop, and perform a few updates, and one more reboot, and that was it.

All of my settings retained. All of my documents associated correctly. Games still run without issue. One problem I had was with portable apps I use, the creation of the user appdata folder was denied,despite it being accessible by me. A short fix of permissions of the user folder to correct a buggy guid fixed this.

It’s snappy, I may even get used to using Edge – if it can maintain it’s so far big free usability.

I am rather impressed with Windows 10 thus far. In some ways it has reinvigorated the Windows OS, navigating the system settings and options is abut as far removed from a M$ experience as you can get, and it easily more in line with Android’s various setup/options menus.

This is the first time I’ve performed an Upgrade that has gone flawlessly.

As for any security issues… facebook, gmail, google… In some ways the inevitable nature of technology will require us to invent new ways of securing our info, and not just nailing wooden boards to the front door..  We can stand by the side of the road and yell “Down with Cars!!” but one day we will need a lift…


PS: Beware !!!
If you install the facebook app from the store, and you’re the sort of person who hates notification spam on your phone, I fear this will be no better. I never used the app on win8.1 so I do not know if this is new.. but :o the facebook app is shithouse anyway lol sticking with firefox and fbp.

Swings and Roundabouts…

Swings and roundabouts… the orbit may be growing, but it still draws me into peril before flinging me further out into the safety of the unknown.

“I’ve never posted anything, wouldn’t didn’t.” making me feel pathetic enough. Followed with “And even if I did, it’s none of your business.”

“It fucking was when we were supposedly still together.”

“I didn’t…”


“I did that once. My pic was reported within a minute of posting. Fuckers.”

Is a far cry from “I’ve never done anything like that, I wouldn’t, but you can think what you want, you will any way.” as she turns it onto me in order to guilt me for posting her own words saying she has. She was doing this while telling me she loved me and wanted me. Couldn’t even have the courtesy to be honest with me, while flirting with and posting nudes to people she barely knows, behind my back. So scared I’d get into her groups she threatened she’d quit them if I joined. Not because “They’re just for me.. my time” but because this is her. She told me she played a mean girl on the internet, but the fact is, she plays a nice girl. To see her so happily attack and abuse people on appearance or opinion, even out of the blue, it’s nasty. A Venus fly trap to be sure. interesting, but a one trick pony.

So, had it not been for reportahoes…


All of this while watching me crumble underneath the confusion of what was going on. She doesn’t even know the people. And the guy she is talking to here is the same guy she wrote a poem about…


But has never had guys send her dick picks. “my inbox is not flowing with dicks!”

I’m guessing it all started just around the time you were pulling away from me. Ahh no, that was all my fault, I remember now.  I was reading your public blog that you wrote a decade ago. Where you did basically the exact same thing to someone else before dumping him on the phone and going out that night to party. From marriage to nothing in 3 weeks. But to you that is stalking and me watching the same thing unfold before my eyes, is a reason I need to get help. None of it was true at all, all the images, the quotes, I imagined them all, they’re all out of context. It’s all satire.

Yet, Posting pictures of someones children from their public profile, is perfectly fine, because it’s in the public domain. And you believe yourself. You think nothing of bringing someones kid into your drama, but if I’m desperately trying to find answers to things I don’t understand and you’re simply not there emotionally to even care, that’s a big red flag.. and has been your reasoning ever since.

Failing to realise that as you pulled away, that was when I started to react. your slow fade was almost perfect.


She sent me a picture once, told me she had taken it a few days earlier. But we were not talking to each other so much then, so I wondered why she was randomly taking pictures of her nipple piercings… sending it to me days later. She was also selling pictures of her feet.


^^^ well now I know why. Why do I still feel this thing inside me? Betrayal sticks in my throat like undigested carrion as the sickness wells to erupt in a torrent of misguided angry fucked up thoughts.

She even writes poems about guys who send her dick picks… “My inbox has no dick picks, there are no dick pics..”

Yep. I was nothing more than a toy for this person who on more than one occasion makes reference to playing with her ‘prey’ a bit before leaving it dead on the porch.

Just being lied to over and over… that’s the part that hurts the most, because I let it happen.

Cannot internet tonight. Its going to be rather fucking nasty in my brain for a while I think… I can only hope I pass out before “he” consumes my thought processes again… god forgive me…

Saturday ramblings…

Ahh Saturday… not quite a weekday, not quite Sunday.. that slice of nothingness in between, where an uncertain anxiousness prevails. Not that the week holds anything of importance, it is just there. Filler. Time as a concept moving over it without change. The days turn into weeks, and they in turn become months.. years.. *sigh*

My brew did not ever become spirit. ha. shame. As sickeningly rank as it was, it actually was decent. eugh but never again. I think finally the naltrexone is having a definite impact on my urge to obliterate my thoughts. Or the mirtazapine. perhaps both? either way, it is now only from a lack of mindfulness in times where I feel stranded, that drives me to imbibe.

I still have a heavy heart when it comes to her. I think I always will. I almost held a precious flower, almost inhaled a wonderful fragrance others have known, that I will never. If the things that were said, were true, then at least we shared something… sadness fills me however, as I ponder what might have been, what should have been. But the words that were once spoken to relay my hearts devotion, now feel distant and vague. like a dream. and so I *sigh* once more… I will always love you.

Who knows now what comes next. Change is everywhere. For better or worse, I do not know. My Job provider is now being re-purposed. I will no longer be with them, after so many years… so many times they promised me help, so many times they failed. And now they are being ripped away, for a completely new mob to start afresh. And so I will now have to explain every single damn thing to someone brand new, build that communication. For all I know this new place will be 100% arse. All I know, is I am looking at it as positive. but should they push me beyond my capabilities, I will stumble, this I know.

I have finally been to my first session with the Next Step psych. And it was miserable. She appears to be uninterested in hearing what I have to say, which makes talking therapy pointless. Everything has fucked up, where I had placed so much trust. I needed the combination of all aspects to work as one. Urges, mood and talking. I ended up barely grabbing the tail end of one as the other lost it’s strength.. fucking prick of a world, and this country is the epitome of it all.

I feel bereft of strength. yet not weakened any longer. Nothing holds interest still. My body is wrecked by the last year or so. I look haggard and wretched. and I don’t care. I have no one to impress. I am not seeking to impress. We all die, and in death we all look the same. I certainly will not spend the remainder of my life attempting to find a mate. Ha, if my family is any indication, I’ll be dead in 9 years anyway. And I’ve spent my entire life self abusing, self medicating, intoxicated, inebriated, fucked up, off my face, delirious… whereas my father and his brother were only smokers and ate like typical poms. Both dead before 53. And I only fear the moment I realise my time has come, but not the fact it will… I fear that moment when I come to the realisation that this is it, everything I intend to do, I will never get to do, that thing I am about to do, 5 minutes from then, will never happen… gasping my last breath, as my last thoughts are of infinite nothingness.. it comes to us all. and no one will mourn me when I am gone. so let it come..

I look around this miserable world and I see painted cretins, adored by mindless miscreants who look down on reality from their artificial places of excess. fuck them. everything has to be fit, toned, tanned, all the bullshit.. you’re all going to die, you fucking idiots. Spend your lives wasting it on bullshit. as I look around my own life spent on nothing. nothingness. I came into the world with nothing, I lived with nothing, I will leave with nothing…

I offer the world nothing. I expect nothing. forced to abide by rules and laws I have no power over. A slave. a number in a register, owned by a government to be used as currency.

Saturday… as the week darkens and Sunday dawns, you have nothing for me.

Fuck this I need coffee. perhaps it will soothe the sneer on my face, fill the emptiness in my soul. And perhaps not…

Homebrew Pt 2

As impossible as it seems, the brew is still going well. It’s going to take time, I can tell. A hydrometer reading was still off the scope. Stupid beer hydrometer. But even more insane, a taste of the test draw revealed it has no abhorrent taste. Still sweet as all hell, but to be expected.

Constant air lock activity, not as active as I would have wanted, but no signs of ceasing the boil. A semi pleasant wort smell, and in all honesty, a fairly acceptable taste.

Certainly not a good taste, but from how I concocted the insanity mix, it seems to have worked rather well.

The cooler temps and the fact that I used bakers yeast will obviously result in a longer boil.

But having the setup running again, I can anticipate a trip to the brew supply store and a purchase of some goodies for the next brew.

Ahh it was funny, trying to open a dialog with Jody. Why did I even bother. A lost cause. Just as with Dary and her disgusting troll friends. I am just going to stick to my hobbies and forget I even had a heart.

sugar shine…

Desperate to keep busy, the only hobby that still keeps me in any way content is brewing. I’m shit at it, but that’s not the point. I can’t catch fish either, but I love fishing. Shame I cannot combine the two…


So, sans any real ingredients, I google’d a plain sugar brew. Obviously to make “fuel” in my still, so there is no need for it to have taste beyond not being fetid. ;)

6kg of plain sugar, with 1kg of that boiled with 1 can of tinned tomatoes, some vitamin B complex tablets and 1 sachet of bakers yeast, to create the yeast nutrient. I dunno. It’s a vague step, one that may very well result in 22 liters of foul water that will be ditched. But you cannot succeed unless you attempt.

And tinned tomatoes.. what else are they any good for?tomatoes

In my 25 liter brew tub I added boiling water and the remaining 5kg of sugar, mixed it till all dissolved, and then after ensuring everything in the tomato puree was sufficiently blitzed with a bamix, and everything had boiled, dumped that into the tub and added cold water up to 20 liters.


Checking the temp, it was slightly under 30c, and knowing it was probably a little too warm but having read people upward of 35c have had vigorous fermentation (albeit with more esters and fusels, just heads and tails to discard) I dumped in 2 sachets of bakers yeast. Again, no ingredients, all going on kitchen based shit…

SG reading was off the chart initially, I’d guestimate about 1055. my hydrometer only goers up to 1040. cheap rubbish kit thing.

I really hope it gets down to a reasonable level, meaning the yeast has eaten all the sugar.

Tandaco Dry Yeast. Fingers Crossed!yeast

1:35pm 10/04/15 it was closed and the air lock is in place.

The yeast was years old so I am either going to have no activity or slow activity.

I have successfully ferments with this before, a rather explosive banana brew. well, 2 liters of fruit pulp sugar and yeast, which exploded all over the place upon opening, to the fragrant stench of wine and slight banana. I never did get to drink it.

The nose on this wort is rather interesting. definitely has the vitamin b to it, but also a pleasant tomato tinge. It will be interesting to see how it tastes before distillation.

If it gets that far. But if it does, I will turn 20 liters of wort into 5 liters of spirit, which I will run again and then charcoal filter. even if 2 liters of clean spirit, that will keep my “alcohol heater” going for some time, and not bad for shit just laying around the kitchen.

EasyStill-Gear-Patrol-Full2:05pm 10/4/15 – Happy to see air lock activity has already started. slow, but there. Ahh relief ;)


And now for something completely different…Facebook can fuck off. :) every one bar 3 people on there are worth talking with, and I cannot justify the pain I suffer every time I wonder what she is doing, in her sordid pathetic world. It occurred to me recently, she told me not to think about her “Real Life” friends. I guess when you say you’re going to marry someone, you are seriously playing them along if you don’t even consider them “Real Life” to you…

Roll on Home Brew, I don’t care if you taste like fucking sewer water, I can hold my nose. And I’ve bought worse over the counter before.

welcome home winofiend. back to where the only one you can hurt, is yourself.


I have no idea what to do any more. Completely exhausted. Nothing left to focus on, nothing to motivate me, no goal to achieve or place to rest. Just the same thing, the same endless pain. Trying to be positive is so tiring. I can’t play guitar, I can’t code, I can’t do anything bereft of anything good inside of me. To have meant so little to someone who meant so much to me, crushing every cell in my body. I want to scream at the world. But alone, no one would hear.

This prison cell, this coffin, this miserable existence.

To yearn and crave, yet teased. Once more taken advantage of… I just have no idea what to do any more…