Yosemite Cocaine Mother

Last night I had dreams of a fantastical Island paradise in the vein of Yosemite; waterfalls, deep valleys, jagged green mountains. My mother comes into my room and finds cocaine in a bag someone left there; of course in my dream like now I'm sober and I say someone left that there; but I know she knows its in my life and its too late to stop the worry from happening.

Today is Day 8 of no party drugs, liquor, filtered cigarettes... I've been smoking weed and eating edibles til the cows come home, mainly to sleep, and for stress and anger, which are all exploding out of my body, brain, and spirit.

Truth is sometimes I wonder if this music career is like a cancer eating away at my life. I've made hundreds, if not thousands of "friends" from it, but how close are they and really how much do they give a shit about me. I am one of those old world artists saying I'm alone in a crowd... the ego, just in our little scene (which most of us seem to think it the end of the line) is preposterous, and yet there's nothing else as glamorous, as we steer the head of the bass beast on the west coast and influence the rest of the world.

I had started a nice little daily hobby of getting high by myself at home at least once a week, pretending to do projects but really pacing aimlessly around the house, overwhelmed at the huge list of talents I have, and not being decisive enough for just one. I have realized that I have completely lost my inspiration, my muse, the rabbit has ducked into its hole and I can't unearth it.

Maybe its Babylon's grips on my nostrils that's making me so unproductive.

Every day has been a struggle to remain positive; even though I'm surrounded by love, have a roof over my head, and maybe 5 jobs (I'm rounding up) to support myself financially.

But still... depression, and this feeling of being alone and yet surrounded by loved ones. On further borrowing into this thought, I'm feeling a thirst for being by myself. Why is there guilt that surrounds that. Maybe "feeling alone in a sea of people" is a preference. And what becomes of me then?

The life of an artist... self inflicted torture and being my own worst critic. Its glamorous, right? Right?

Today's plans:
1. Work on the intro to my first self-produced track, and look for new music.
2. Have a meeting regarding Betty's Butt-ER (my new cannabis product).
3. Get Kratom (my natural anti-depressant).
4. Consult and Dispense Cannabis at Kind People's Collective.