I glanced up at a movie blaring at me from the big screen, the classic Cohen Genius, Miller's Crossing...
"You don't bump people!!! For the love of God! please don't! YOU DON'T BUMP PEOPLE!!!"
John Turturro's anguished charachter cried out, begging for his life.
Little did I know, I would be doing the same.

10-10-2k7
As the Summer sucumbed to Autumn, I found myself fending off negativity I had gathered throughout the year...harm injury and a death wish. All that negativity encapsulated into five (5) miserable spider bites. From the information I could gather, they were presented to me by 1 or more (perhaps an enfire family) of Loxosceles reclusa arachnid, better known as the Brown Recluse Spider. These spiderbites or "assaults" as I call them, were the effects of perpetual negative enegery pouring from my heart, mind and spirit. Ten years, actually, of poisoning my body and mind with meth and dangerous, random sex. It all has taken it's toll but in a positive way. These attacks have marked the gateway from which few have returned to tell the tale. As I leave this horrible realm, the voices tell me...
"This is your last warning, CJ. Leave now or there is no turning back."

And so I did, surrendering the glass, the fire and the will. In doing so, my body, heart and mind grew stronger than most sensible quasi mortals would dare to venture. My spirit, however lie dormant, fermenting over the anguish of Dubya's war for Oil and profit. Ohh! The mental festering of watching fellow serviceman coming home in pieces day after day. Could I make a sacrafice to stop this? Could I trade MY life to stop all this?? Could I trade MY life for the life of a VILE tyrant?...Such as ReichsFuhrer DICK Cheney? And so the self betrayal begins...

Lets go back a bit to the sweltering HOT 100+ August Dogdays of Summer 2k7 where my tan glowed and my virgins flouraished. It also marked an era of minority rule, social and political unrest within these Untied States. Without dipping into the poiltical MURK, as I always do, I decided to apply my knowledge of the "Parapsychological" or Magick to my opposition of the conflict by, perhaps helping ReichsFuhrer DICK Cheney's cold, feeble ticker come to a slow, grinding halt...as I fall over, no one the wiser. Hmmm.?

INTENT IS PURE: SAVING LIVES

TRADE OFF: UNKNOWN, PROBABLY DEATH

But the problem with this "trade-off" is HOW. After studying magick and its elements I'm convinced that my actions were sane and justified, despite the harshness. But desperate times call for desperate measures and I was willing to die to save others, as I am now...just not as radically as this. As each bite engulfed me, I realized I had stepped into a realm in which I had little or no control. I don't "deal" with the dark side. I don't bump people...at least not without a military order.

Setpember, 2k7
As my skin bubbled and fizzled, swelling with each and every painful infection, I realized I'd comminted my OWN product violation. I'd lived in the woods for YEARS with my grandparents without a SINGLE spiderbite. I had lost that protection I had carried all my life. All bets off, CJ. You had thrown yourself to the wolves (or whatever else) to bring down the most powerful man in the nation. Are you sure, CJ? Well???

Oct 1, 2k7
Upon the THIRD visit to the URGENT CARE, the doctor's mouth dropped and URGED me to leave immediately to the ER and get intraveneous anti-biotics. I did and went back home after seeing the packed ER. I waited till morning, 6am and got my shot in the ass, making this the SECOND batch of anti-biotics, PLUS a THIRD oral ainti-biotic.

Because the anti-biotics were mixed and so overpowering my hands and any exposed skin were breaking out THROUGHOUT the month or October. I dind't take photos as I was becoming more and more pathetic, showing up for work in Micky Mouse flip-flops and a severe skin rash. I was the lowest of the low, reminisceninet of lepers during Biblical times. I was a fuckin' mess of infected, red oozing meat and deserved every suffering moment.

It was while lying in that massive heap of misery that I recalled, prayed to call the trade-off..OFF. It was, at this POINT, unclear if i would heal. At best perhaps lose the whole leg, at worst it sloowly and PAINFULLY eats me alive. It was HERE I prayed for my life back, just as I prayed it away. I promised NEVER to step into that world again. But, of course I would have to MEAN IT. And so I did.

We found the spiders webs under my desk...directly over my legs. The desk was dismatled and the room was painted. I sit here now in penenace, healing, feeling.

October 30th, 2k7
The tiny entrance wound on Foot Roof FINALLY fell off in the shower. I placed it wetly on the bathroom sink, hoping the cats don't eat it.

Oct 31st, 2k7
Happy fuckin' Hallow's Eve. After remembering the scab It appears the cats did eat it. Oh well. that might be a good omen for my closure. The LARGE and obnoxious Marty McNasty Scab