FINALLY I have got the computer to write Japanese 日本語の表記体系. There are 2 main ways of inputting Japanese. The main system requires knowledge of the Japanese keyboard layout because when you tap out QWERTY, you get タテイスカン (ta, te, i, su, ka, n). So I use the version for foreigners. If I want to write "mouse" I spell out nezumi I see ねずみ on screen; then I press space and the Chinese character for "mouse" appears: 鼠; finally I can highlight and F7 to get the phonetic katakana spelling for nezumi, ネズミ which is what most young children would write as the character 鼠 doesn't appear on the Japanese government's 常用漢字 official 1945-character list. So it's lots of fun typing. Far more involved than trying to find the accented e at the end of cafe.
There's no other news. All I've done re this memoir is ponder whether to start at the very beginning or go straight into the action where I OD on heroin ~ second time anyone ever injected me I ended up in hospital for 2 or 3 days. I cannot remember how many; I was too out of it.
I've wasted money on gear that was just too weak for words. I keep wondering 1: why I continue to take it and 2: why I want to stop. I do want to stop but I don't even know why. Best reason I can give is that I'm bored of it and want to try life without it once more. I lived 2/3 of my life without heroin so I'm sure I can live that way again. My biggest problem is with methadone. It's so demotivational. Knowing I'm taking something more addictive, more poisonous does nothing for the self-esteem. I don't think once they've tasted a life on heroin most people will ever find any meaning in life again. For this reason I still think the kindest treatment for junkies would be to line them up and machine gun them all down.
I don't know why I am bothering with any of this. They say a problem is just something you haven't solved yet, which means I have no problem except life. When I was little a paeophile tried to pick me up. It's a shame that didn't happen because if he'd had half an ounce of wherewithall about him, wouldn't be here now. I wanted to see my memoir as a cautionary tale, but that's missing the point and implying my problem is rooted in drugs when it's not. The drugs were just my attempt at a cure. Since birth there has been something wrong with me. People seem to assume because I'm humanoid I'm human, but even that's not necessarily true. Maybe I'm a totally different species. By human standards, there's something badly wrong I'm not willing to fix it I know I will only get blame blame blame when I do. So I do nothing, not knowing what to do...
There might be an answer. Maybe I haven't found it; maybe I have. Croutons. I need more croutons.
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