This is great news friend. So happy for you and thank you for sharing with us.
Here’s to a new chapter in your life. Wishing you all the best 
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I wasn’t going to post again until I had made significant progress, and gained confidence in my sobriety. Much has transpired for me across these many months. I no longer live in Boulder, Colorado, but now reside in Greenville, South Carolina.
† I’ve been sober for about a month. Joined AA six days ago, and now carry a white coin. The group understands my struggle, and their cookies and coffee are the best.
† Citizens fear me and/or think I’m cool. I spend my free time at Springwood Cemetery, where I meditate, read, or wander. You’re welcome to visit. Maybe join Ghost Tours on Saturday nights.
† Pray that the Blessed Virgin keeps me safe and sober. May she crush the head of my evil under her precious holy foot.
I shall return to update you.
Sincerely yours.
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Nice to see you back and hear this 
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Great to see you popping in and glad to hear that you are doing well.
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Let’s make it a weekly affair.
Well. A severe storm is passing through. I’m taking shelter at the library.
An acquaintance gave me a two-way ride yesterday, and my wallet fell out of my pocket at some point. I didn’t realize this until he had driven away. I sent him texts and emails asking if it was in his SUV, but since Sunday is the sabbath, he had turned off his communications until the following morning. It was stressful, not knowing if I’d ever recover my debit card, ID, EBT, etc. I felt so stupid. There was a time not so long ago when I would’ve shoplifted liquor and drank myself into a stupor. But… I didn’t. So that’s something. Turns out my wallet was in his vehicle, and he returned it to me. I respect integrity. Might upgrade him to ‘friend’ soon.
I am writing letters of reconciliation to my former friends and family members. I cannot send these letters, for I don’t know where any of these people are anymore, and even if I did, re-initiating contact would likely result in explosive drama. Now that I’ve said that much, let me define ‘writing letters’ in this context: I sit alone at night and speak out loud, as though dictating. Some persons are now deceased. My first stepfather died in 2015, for example. And he was a major influence on the person I am now. “I’m sorry that I failed you as a son, and put you under so much stress, when you were already working hard to make ends meet. You were disappointed in me, and I don’t blame you. In your position, I would’ve been angry and disappointed.”
I apologized to my mother for mistreating her, undermining her self esteem, and being a total deadbeat across my teens and twenties.
Anyhow. Watched Abigail, the ballerina vampire movie. Blood and Tears by Danzig is stuck in my head.
bows and departs
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love it! 
Glad you were able to find your wallet in tact and that the ordeal did not make you spiral out. That is huge progress.
Grateful to see your updates
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@JazzyS Thank you for the encouragement.
Good evening. My username is vagabond, and I am an alcoholic.
I lost at life. Now at age 35, all that remains is to create something new.
“Rename the thread Loser nature, luulz”
Beat you to it.
× Currently making an earnest effort to find housing and employment. And I’m beginning to think the ‘housing first’ mentality won’t bear fruit. If this next lead doesn’t lead anywhere, I’m going to buy a sturdy pair of boots and submit to the labor force.
Doing so will cut into my Social Security. And SS is difficult to get back once it’s gone…
× Practicing the 12 Steps may reawaken your thirst for the spiritual. It is then natural to seek a mentor. But be cautious. Research teachers and gurus before taking life advice from them.
Cult leaders can at first appear as chill and caring voices, there to help you unlock your potential. They can make you feel like you’re the star of the show, the hero of the story. But if you aren’t careful, you’re instead a shmuck and a cuck.
× Random spiritual shit (imagine Teal Swan whispering huskily to you in bed): view your ego as a product of your body and its experiences and genetics. The true ‘you’ is the consciousness which peers through your senses and wears the ego/personality as a mask. It isn’t God, but an emanation of God, like the rays of the sun filling pours in an object.
When lost within a hurricane of your own angst, full of anger and despair, know that the path is always open to rise above those clouds and experience the fresh air again. Realize who you are. The same as me. now give me your debit card deets
× Next time I’ll post a photo or two of myself.
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Great post! Wishing you luck at reclaiming your new life
Hope you are able to find housing and employment. 
Appreciate your updates and looking forward to seeing pics
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Keep going no matter what.
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Thanks for the replies.
It is a stormy season indeed.
My mood crashed last Tuesday. Mental health issues caught up to me, and tackled me hard. Depression, despair, loneliness. A darkness consumed me, drowning my hope and motivation. I felt utterly worthless, that my life had been for nothing. I couldn’t even pray. It reached the point where I could barely form a coherent thought. Each day was an age of Hell.
Somehow… I began feeling faint rays of hope again.
I shudder to think how drunkenness could’ve made the episode worse.
Have to be ready for next time.
As for pics…
Soon I must bid farewell to Greenville, South Carolina and head back to Colorado. Can’t recommend Greenville enough. It’s a beautiful town. There are many good and genuine people here whose kindness will help restore your faith in humanity. I know my photos don’t convey that, 'cuz I’m a recovering loner.
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So lovely to meet you friend. What beautiful pictures. Glad you were able to connect with some great souls and hoping that you will find more on your journey - Colorado is a beautiful area too.
So grateful that you were able to find the rays of hope. Hopefully you are feeling stronger in your sobriety 
Were you able to discuss these issues with someone irl?
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Naw. If asked, I might tell someone from church or AA that I’m having a crappy day, but I never expand much on the reasons.
Colorado and SC are indeed beautiful, in their own ways.
You’re very kind. Hope that you are well, and thanks for the reply.
May 27th 2024 : Memorial Day
From now on, we’ll have segments. Here they are…
Journal: Similar to what you find in an AA meeting, where I share an update and reflection related to sobriety.
Subplot: A brief opinion piece about the human condition, the state of the world, or whatever phenomenon.
Exhibit: Wherein I post (and source) artwork that I found on the internet. The tone will complement the other two segments.
JOURNAL
I perch on a tombstone, and ruminate for hours. I smoke and drink coffee. Doomscroll on my phone, listen to music. That sort of thing.
A person strolls the paved lanes. Some people are interested in fitness, while others came for the names, dates, and epitaphs. It’s almost like having company.
But they always leave before long and rejoin the world where time passes faster.
A young couple appears, a man and a woman. They hold hands and chat and joke. I try to seem disinterested. But I steal glances, for she is beautiful and her voice is sweet.
They are about to disappear behind a mausoleum. The man goes first, distracted as he talks. The woman hangs back a step, turns her head, and locks eyes with me.
My candle flickers back to life.
SUBPLOT
• It’s hot and humid here. A steamy pressure cooker. Rain, sun, rain, sun
• There’s always the sound of traffic in the background. It never rests.
• Confederates came and placed Confederate flags at Confederate graves.
EXHIBIT
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I like to visit the cemetery myself, actually. No one else knows I do this…it’s like my little secret place of refuge. I too like the serenity and quiet. Sometimes I like to sit in my car and journal, and then pay my respects to a few departed folks I knew. Congrats on your sobriety, and stay strong. 
WB
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@WilliamBloke Fancy meeting a kindred spirit. These settings are fertile for quiet introspection… reflecting on life through death.
June 3rd 2024
JOURNAL
Season finale. I booked a flight from Greenville-Spartanburg International Airport to Colorado Springs, CO. Two stops: Charlotte, NC and Dallas, TX.
Due to overbooking, I came very close to being stranded in NC for who knows how long.
Thunderstorms swept Texas like the apocalypse. We couldn’t land in Dallas right away, so we circled and circled above the clouds until fuel became low, then took a detour to my birth state of Oklahoma. Sitting to my left was a chill African man who ate from a bottomless bag of Cheetos. To my right, a sweet lady who reminded me of my grandma.
We made it to DFW hours later, where the shit show kept raging. Thousands of travelers packed and swarmed the terminals. Phantom odors filled the air. Constant bitching. Nobody, and I mean nobody, lightened the mood with a smile or one liner. It was ten hours of delays, cancellations, and gate switching. I recalled all the times in the past I’d visited airport bars and paid for their overpriced drinks.
At last we boarded our plane at 2AM… and it seemed we were almost ready to take off… and guess what? Someone forgot to transport a bunch of luggage. And the pilot’s clock was running out.
Cancelled.
Next available flight to Springs? 54 hours later. Six hours later: no new info online, help line is dead.
My homeless and rather prissy ass was stranded in Dallas, Texas. I said “kiss my ass” and hurt my wallet again for a Greyhound ticket.
Got to Springs exhausted, and called a friend in Boulder for a listening ear. She asked if I still had the pic she had sent of her grandfather’s 40 Years of Sobriety AA chip, which she kept on her prayer altar at home. She felt the coin channeled his energies I guess. “He’s adopted you too, trust me.”
PART II
That angry and mean inner voice, who may be the voice of the person who takes over when I’m drunk, is dimmer.
He knew how to survive. He knew how to wound the hearts of others, even with just words alone.
The reasons for his existence are probably obvious. It was to help me survive.
I never viewed myself as being hard enough. No phallic wordplay intended. But that always seemed to be the lesson, that I’m too soft and sensitive, and thus unworthy.
SUBPLOT
Attended a Quaker meeting last Sunday. Quakers, or ‘Friends’, sit together in silence and listen for a higher power. They believe that every person carries a spark of the divine. If someone feels inspired, they deliver a message to the group. They tend to dress modestly while living simplified lives.
Businessmen of old were happy to capitalize on the Quaker’s wholesome rep, leading to unsanctioned oatmeal, as well as brands of whiskey.
(Remove spaces after https)
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https ://www.minibottlelibrary.com/mbl/alpha/zz-h-other-usa/i/hirsch-distilling-quaker-maid-whiskey02.jpg
EXHIBIT
Marta Sokołowska
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Felt like posting early
6/6/²⁴
JOURNAL
I resolved to find a job before searching for housing.
My method for finding a job will be akin to fishing. AA and church are my lakes. I am currently meeting people, creating connections, and making it known that I am open to employment.
This method has worked for me before.
The traditional way of filling out a pile of applications across many different businesses, would require too much walking, too much exposure to the cruel sun, and has a small chance of success.
SUBPLOT
Public restrooms are scarce these days. Those that are available are locked behind a store purchase. Fair enough, until it isn’t.
Water sources are getting that way as well. It’s rare to find a water fountain that works. Hose spouts on the sides of buildings are now covered and locked.
Sidewalks are probably next.
EXHIBIT
Kentaro Miura, Berserk
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WOW that was a hell of a travel journey - glad that you were able to find a way to get to your destination and not lose your mind. Sounds like a lot of anxiety and negative energy as things were delayed and cancelled and no help lines available.
Wishing you the best of luck with your job hunt! Hope it is going well.
YIKES - i’ve heard of the public bathrooms in Europe asking for $$ - thats happening here in the states too? Now the water fountains not working either? That is a bit much. I don’t think ive seen a lock on a hose yet 
The world really is changing so quickly.
not meaning to laugh but you may be right – at this rate that is not inconceivable.
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The art you post makes me think of one of my childhood heroes, Peter Vos. Special artist with a special worldview. Just wanted to share.
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I really enjoy your writing and musings .
You are an old soul it seems for certain. You have a brilliant story to write someday and I look forward to that reading.
Be well and safe travels.
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Thank you for reading and commenting, @JazzyS @Mno @Chevy55
6/11/²⁴
JOURNAL
I’ve gone to 1-3 A.A. meetings a day for the past ten days.
Attended my first dharma recovery meeting on Sunday. It takes place in the same room as my home AA, and has its own cast. A pretty little woman gave me a bracelet and a new book.
Later that same day I met the man who I might come to call my sponsor. He sensed that I was hungry, and took me to the gas station next door and bought me snacks. We sat down face to face, and he assumed the role of my 12 Step doctor. Who am I? Have I truly surrendered to my higher power? Where am I holding back, and for what reasons?
I’m certain that he could read my mind at times. He echoed many of my thoughts, down to the idiosyncratic wording. Thoughts happening in the present. Revelations of dark days gone by.
Some of us feel the need to justify our existence. I tried to be helpful to whatever group. I searched desperately for ways to contribute value at every turn, fearing that my personality wasn’t sufficient, fearing that the group would ignore me, or discard me.
It was never enough. And after years of feeling like a weird outsider, after years of overcompensation… I gave up and left. I walked away with my ulterior motives unmet.
I don’t want to fully heal. Because I can’t imagine what it would be like to live as a whole being. I am addicted to my hatred and distrust of humanity.
Knowing this… maybe I can ask the higher power to reconfigure me. “Make me desire above all else to heal, so that I may become an instrument of healing for others.”
SUBPLOT
Shout out to the Catholic Charities of Central Colorado. They serve lunch seven days a week to the needy. A bit of a walk from my cemetery, but I usually make it there.
I get a plate piled with good food, including dessert, and a bowl of soup. It’s sometimes more than I can eat at once.
Meth-fueled hobo nutjobs provide the entertainment.
I may wonder where my next shower is coming from, or when I’ll get laid again, but I won’t have to steal to survive.
EXHIBIT
Contains an audio clip of Vincent Price and Jane Asher in The Masque of the Red Death.
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