Search confessions

It makes me feel dirty when I think about..

..buying weed at a government bud store..for decades they kept their thumb on the government realizes that they are going broke and they need the tax revenue...dont fool yourself it is not about our is all about the I think I will keep calling my buddy..he deserves the revenue and I salute the government with a little digitus imputicus..

Dumb Luck

Sometimes making it 'big' is just through dumb luck. I met my husband online 14 years ago. We both had entry level positions making 35k a year. He rose up the ranks quickly and now makes 500k a year. We live a very comfortable life. But I didn't sweat and toil to get here. I know I'm really lucky and am very grateful. But I know it was just dumb luck I met a really talented guy.

Does not compute

I don't understand how people go to gyms. I mean, I exercise and work out. But the thought of having to go somewhere to do it, and then be surrounded by a bunch of strangers, and pay a monthly fee. I get it, they have lots of cool machines you don't have at home. But there is not much you can't work out with a floor, dumbbells, pull-up bar. I know, I know, different strokes for different folks. I just find the thought of working out surrounded by strangers very weird. Peace and love to everyone! There is room for all of us here on earth!

Poly busy

Thought in would be great to have a few men at a time.Turns out its way more work then I could have imagined.All the amazing sex is not as passionate as one would hope and I’m getting tired of driving to them at their convenient.

No one cooked for me when mom died

Mom died a year ago. No one cooked for me, no one brought food. They helped a bit with clothes, books and other stuff. Fundamentally I was hosting them and had to cook and serve and make big decisions. Not once was a meal offered. Not once was I told to just sit and relax and allow myself to be cared for. The very day my mom died, the first friend to show up didn't even raise a finger and I had to cook for the both of us. She just talked about herself. Then, no invitations over the holidays. Alone on Thanksgiving and Christmas. No one called or invited. My neighbours knew what happened, they couldn't be bothered to have me over for tea. I am using this experience to remind myself why I want and need to leave the west coast. I'm hoping to find a better place.


It’s becoming increasingly difficult to be a person of conscience living in this city. Living in this city, for the lucky ones who can afford to, involves stifling your conscience on a daily basis. Pretending the scope and scale of blatant homelessness isn’t a crisis. Apologizing to those asking for money. Not gawking at the poor souls locked in a half-bent fentanyl-induced pose in the middle of the day, on a busy route. The constant need to turn a blind eye is turning me into a soulless callous person.

Driving the Midnight Streets

I can't sleep. Keys jingling as I shift into drive. I feel like a goldfish in a bowl. Around and 'round with no claims to a home. Where are the gentle places and soft melodies? Only saccharine brews and smiles. Where is that haven where I have a name? Seeking a snoezelen eremite paradise.

Paying myself first

When it occurred to me that the idea "pay yourself first" was more than just good financial advice—and it wasn’t selfish in the least—my life started getting better in all kinds of miraculous ways. I invest my time more wisely, don’t waste it on foolish people, and enjoy the sorts of simple things now that I had thought I’d only "get around to later". Oh, and I’ve socked away a lot of dough into savings. Life’s sweet.


My leaps and strides over the years have barely ever counted as babysteps to anyone I made matter . There was a point where my thoughtless enthusiasm attracted friends and even a lover, but as soon as I attempted to care I was low digits on the score cards. And I let it bother me. So much so that I got stuck in sadness and hurt. Yes I'm "sensitive ".. so f@#$ING what. I give up. I never came here to gain your praise. I don't wanna be anything anymore . Im the kind who can't fit. Enjoy. I can't do this anymore

The next step isn't solid

My spouse is mentally ill and not taking care of himself. We agreed he'd go to therapy instead of meds, but he's only gone a few times even though he needs ongoing help and therapy. Not only for his mental illness (bipolar), but to deal with abuse he suffered from horrible parents as a child. He hasn't taken any steps, is getting abusive, and after years I now feel like he's just been using me, that I've just been enabling him to abuse substances without any consequences and I'm just here to pay less rent and make lunch. He keeps making horribly dangerous choices without considering the consequences for anyone, and isn't seeing anything clearly. I'm trying my best to be supportive and urge him to get help and take care of himself, but he doesn't seem to care about either of us enough to do anything. I feel horrible, but also like he's dragging me into a dark dark pit there's no way in hell I'm going down into. I know I don't deserve to be taken for granted, to be doing everything for us every day and only being yelled at in return, but the guilt of leaving a mentally ill person has kept me here for so long. We've been here before and he thinks it's some sick game, it's normal for him now but I can't do it anymore. How do I take the next step when there's no stair there? I have no idea what comes next but I know I need to take the step.


Chaos at Billy Bishops

You were with a girlfriend upstairs near the back wall, I was in a brown suit with my Military...

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