OK, if you are into reading, into self-discovery, into quizzes and into yourself, I have the answer for you!  Thanks to Candy, I took the Book Quiz.  Six questions and they tell you what book you'd be.  If you were a book, see.  Then they say what this book that you might be shows about you.   Deep, in a Cosmo sex-quiz kinda way, no?  Candy is some sort of anarchist, looking for some guards and avoiding the tax-man.  Me?  Well, I'm back in the Watership Downs, my friends.





You're Watership Down!

by Richard Adams

Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're
actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their
assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they
build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd
be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

I couldn't shake it, you know?  That sick, cloying, self-ignited smell of sadness, of burn-out, of defeat and depression.  Waking from a tortured sleep, drifts of the last nightmare still smudged my mind, I realized dully that a life had been lost, again, to the power of addiction.

Despair and grief took a firm grip on me.  I was shaken and exhausted by the efforts that I'd made for the past week, in a losing battle.  The woman who had fought so hard to overcome her addiction, in part through me, had succumbed.  I only knew this because she never called me back after we split, nor her girlfriend, nor the old neighbour who'd put her up, temporarily.

I was supposed to go with Cricket to the shore today.  But the concept of even making words come out of my mouth was daunting.  I wanted nothing to do with people.  Nothing to do with the excitement of a holiday that isn't even mine.  I wanted nothing, but to be alone and lick my psychic wounds.  I wanted that ephemeral space that is not granted to those in need.  I wanted hope.

I went and had a terrible meal at the Mexican Post.  I should have stayed in my neighbourhood, where the food is authentic, cheap and great.  I next went and spent mad money at Head House Books, because this brand of escapism seems reasonable right now.  I moved onto Atlantic Books next, relentless in my persuit of other people's lives, other people's visions, other people's perfection.

I have an obscene ability to read.  I devour works on paper as a starving creature eats.  I've tried to curb my reading appetite by reading books of volume, complex concepts and even "quitting".  Of the latter, I would say that this was instrumental in creating this blog.  A frustrated reader attempting to write.

Speaking the truth is a quality that I have learned over the years.  It's a value that I have embraced, maybe to the discomfit of others.  The problem is, is that though the truth may set you free, some still are wrapped in the false promise that addiction states.

Addiction, like a mental illness, wants you to believe that you are well, regardless.  It, like mental illness, bares the odd fruit of desire, for it's effects.  It makes you believe that even though it has made you depraved, it is your best friend.  I believe that it induces that most confusing of diagnoses: Stockholm Syndrome.  How can one not help but fall for the drug or alcohol that at first made us feel everything that we had longed for?

The problem is, of course, ourselves.  Our mind and body have been usurped by a silent predator:  Desire.  The wish to be normal, fit in, feel O.K. about ourselves, to be beautiful, be happy, accepted, loved and painless.  For the addict, alcohol/drugs become a gateway to these desires, but ultimately backstabbing, lethal and relentlessly violent, the alcohol/drugs slam doors shut.  The only option left is surprisingly hard.

Death, or a sober life?

I stayed up too late last night watching the second series of HBO's "The Wire"; so the brunch with my neighbour Junior got blown off. This is strategically not the smartest move. Given to mercurial views on his friends and loved ones, he can be a fierce foe.

I had ignored my ringing phone so that I could keep sleeping. I've had a lot on my plate recently and it's exacting it's toll. The problem with Manic Depression, is that when you feel good, you try to cram as much living as possible into that time.

I'm volunteering at a women's prison on Monday nights, I have a part-time job, I'm taking an art class, I have somehow found myself on the "Please save this dog" e-mailing lists, ( I have found homes for a couple), I see my therapist once a week, I attend 12-Step meetings, I try and clean out the five litter-boxes each day, my car just died, I saw my mum for the first time in about six years and next week I am going to enjoy the fabulous experience of a Colonoscopy, as I am in quite a bit of pain. As my housecleaning and social life is spotty at best, these have been put not on the back-burner, but behind the actual oven.

Last weekend I helped Junior empty the coffin outside of his house, (Emptying The Coffin, 6/17/08). We had made tentative plans for brunch today, but I had to be an arse and stay up watching "The Wire", which I'd gotten from NetFlix. By the time I got up, my room-mate Cricket was just about to leave on her errands. I went with her, because without a car I need help picking up the twenty-pound bag of Science Diet for the cats.

I was totally out of it, but then we stopped for a meal at Sulimay's. The food and caffine must have done the trick, as my brain started to function after a delicious grilled chicken salad club sandwich and three large Diet Cokes.

Realizing my blunder with Junior, we ran our errands with the idea of buying him a peace offering. That was my second mistake of the day, because we found a new book shop in our neighbourhood. We had just come out of Villa & Hut, flushed with our gift for him, when we spotted the book shop. We had to go in.

Thirty dollars later I was the proud owner of "The Gospel of Judas", "Through the Lens" (both National Geographic hardcovers) and "The Encyclopedia of Natural Pet Care". Cricket resisted the temptation, with a struggle. Me? I need help when it comes to books, as I can never have too many and I will read them. The problem with this is that A) I read far too quickly, B) I don't have the money to spare and C) I have been trying to "manage" my book reading, as I find myself short of (A+B) + time.

Nonetheless, I love this evil place! It's an actual warehouse of new and used books. The guys have been operating online for some time, but have just recently opened the space to the public. And it's right by my bank.

I'm still waiting for Junior to return my humbly apologetic phone calls. I want him to have the wonderful wooden bowl we picked out at Villa & Hut. But most of all, I don't want him to be upset.