My Room

My room feels like it belongs to someone else.

This room belongs to someone who died, and I'm just living in it before the deceased's family clears things out.

I always feel that someone or something has been in my room whenever I return to it. It doesn't feel like it's been searched or cleaned, just as if someone had been living in my room while I wasn't living in it.

I watched Blade Runner today, and I have to say it was pretty damn fantastic. My favorite part, which is likely to be anyone's favorite, is the dialogue. "It's too bad she won't live. But then again, who does?" "Nothing the god of biomechanics wouldn't let you in heaven for." And Roy's death speech/soliloquy.

I read Kafka's The Metamorphosis. How someone can undergo a personally catastrophic event out of their control, and how it inevitably effects the people around said person. Sounds familiar.

I also made a collage, using Gustave Dore sketches and the first several pages of a book compressed into 7 pt font. Public domain ftw.

Even though this happened, I still feel I wasted a day. This room is more like a cell.

One of these days

I really hope I don't end up like GG Allin. That would be terrible.

In all seriousness, many people react very harshly and terrified when you hear one 'extreme' idea. Ideas should not be judged by how 'extreme' they are, but how they are to be pursued. A lot of people I talk to say "You need help" after a half hour of discussion with me. That's not fair.


Whether or not I need help is completely irrelevant to my ideas.

My ideas won't change if you say that, they will be changed if you can prove that my method does not work for me.

When I lose an argument, I will agree. I am not the type of person to manifest futility for the sake of feeling superior. If I ask questions, it's because I'm curious, not because I want to contradict you or prolong the discussion/argument beyond necessity.

If I do not agree with you in the end, that means I have not lost, it means you haven't considered my perspective. Also, shame on you.


I am not opinionated, I have strong fucking convictions.

It's usually people who say "I have an open mind" and "I am accepting" who eventually shut down any progress I make in their heads.

When you think to yourself, and you come across what everyone else thinks as 'terrible' and 'wrong' ideas, even though it makes you smile, do not stop thinking about it. If you enjoy it, then please, don't handicap yourself. You may just have a marvelous idea, and it may just lead to what you could never imagine.


You're going to die anyway. You'll be better off crossing these ideas off your list, instead of letting them fester and linger in the back of your head.

I'm not crazy, I just prefer not to inhibit my conclusions and concepts because others think it is wrong.

What I always thought was extremely interesting is when I heard this lyric:

Without the threat of death, there's no reason to live at all.

If I had a choice to live forever, I would not. It would not make me memorable.

If you, the reader, lived forever with me, I wouldn't matter after a long enough period of time. I won't have any lasting wisdom, because I will last. If I came to my convictions in a relatively minuscule period of time, rather than given an eternal view, no matter how brilliant, it wouldn't mean anything. If we lived forever, I would not surprise you. We are both going to die, and be thankful, because it just makes life more precious. And who wants to live on this planet for that much longer, oilright? (This gave me a great idea for a short story.)

Often times I fear that my beliefs are stemmed from some sort of rebellion I feel in my life.

Also, because I said my last sentence, it doesn't make it true. If you dare use it against me I will harm you with civil and verbal justification to communicate this idea to you.


What is appealing about civility? The repression? The aversion? If you wish to yell, do so, if necessary. Only act if it is necessary.

If I had a country, I would make the first notion of my power the Anti-Civility Act. Right before the various autonomous acts and equality acts and social justice acts (whatever social justice means).

 Dear Inventor of Police Siren: Fuck you. I am trying to sleep.

A month ago someone called me a pseudo-intellectual. That hurts. I do not act smarter than I am, don't you know me? I act out on how I feel, not through some sort of intellectual endeavor.

I'm not smart, I'm not a good writer. I'm just smarter and better than the people you know.

When I'm older, you'll see greeting cards like this picture. Stick around, I won't be leaving anytime soon.

Oilright is my new catchphrase

Oilright is a combination of Oi! punks, the oil spill and alright. You know, the Skinheads (against racism). There's more than one type of skinhead. In fact, the first ones were black, back in the 60's. The black and white skinheads beat up on the Southern Asian immigrants.

Did you know that?

Today, Oi! punks and 'non-aligned' members of the working class.

So, in honor of the BP Oil Spill (because drilling for oil is solely Britain's fault), I took out the 'a' and put in the 'oi!'

Life is oilright. Oi!right.

There's this void.

For the past few days, I wake up at 12, and start my day at 8pm-9pm. I have come to understand how there is nothing to do in this town. It must be cabin fever.

There is so little to do that I am actually cleaning my room. Tomorrow I'll do laundry. Isn't that bizarre?

There is so little to do that I have been spending time thinking about lyrics and chords for folk songs.

I can read a book and stop reading on my own leisure, without interruption.

The only consistency in my life is depression and the ability to recover quickly from it. It's quite boring. I'll start listening to blues.


I'll close this post with This Bike Is A Pipe Bomb's Depression.


When you have nothing, you haven't even hope to spare
You're exactly where you want to be
You wouldn't have it any other way
Any other way would be complication
Depression ain't so bad
Makes you wish you'd never been born, but you always jump right back
Now I've been on top of the world, and I've been stuck at the bottom
I have kicked and I've crawled, tried to get my way back up
But there's nothing wrong with a break before you get back up
Depression ain't so bad
Look at all the good its done Robert Johnson

On and On and On

I still remember that night
it was the fourth of July
it's still engraved in my mind
and I'm not surprised
gang wars no guns hand to hand
you're black I'm white he's purple
but I still don't understand
I'm going to be alright
I'm going to be okay
everything is going to be fine
back off 'cause
I want to be alone
I want to think it out
and I'm thinking that I want to go home
look who's laughing now
I'll pull it off somehow
as I passed her by
I could see her cry
and I'll never forget the look
that was in her eye
and the music you know it played
on and on and on
so won't somebody tap her
on the shoulder
tell her life goes on

3 years 2 months 1 week 4 days
I'm always counting down
because there ain't no easier way
trust me
you know look that I tried
and if I said it's easy
then you know that
I told a lie
I'm going to be alright
I'm going to be just fine
one down five billion to go
am I next in line
and do I really want to know?
look who's laughing now
I'll pull it off somehow
as I passed her by
I could see her cry
and I'll never forget the look
that was in her eye
and the music you know it played
on and on and on
so will somebody tap her
on the shoulder
tell her life goes on

I still remember that night
it was the fourth of July
it's still engraved in my mind
and I'm not surprised
gang wars no guns hand to hand
you're black I'm white
he's purple but I still don't understand
I'm going to be alright
I'm going to be okay
everything is going to be fine
back off
I want to be alone
I want to think it out
and I'm thinking that I want to go home
3 years 2 months 1 week 4 days
I'm always counting down
because there ain't no easier way
trust me
you know that I tried
and if I said it's easy
then you know that
I told a lie
I'm going to be alright
I'm going to be just fine
one down five billion to go
am I next in line
and do I really want to know?
look who's laughing now
I'll pull it off somehow and he said
"as I passed her by
I could see her cry
and I'll never forget the look
that was in her eye
and the music you know it played
on and on and on
so won't somebody tap her
on the shoulder
tell her life goes on"

"Gifted"

This past week everyone tells me I'm a "gifted" writer.

I read this article, I hope you will too:


Existential depression in gifted individuals

Crashing

 I don't want to be reminded of being bipolar. I don't have any questions.

I can feel myself crashing and sinking. I feel like someone took me out of my life and put me in a completely different place. I feel lost. I don't know how I got here. I don't know what I did, whether or not I believe it is wrong.

Today was supposed to be fun. Instead, I stayed at home until 9:30 pm. I feel useless and irritable. I can't handle all this sympathy. I am used to just moving on, now the depression is beginning to feel like an actual issue. I'm used to feeling depressed, and now I'm constantly brought to the idea that depression is controlling every aspect of my life.

I can't focus on anything else because that's the only thing I've heard today.

I resent the fact that I'm going to a hospital every week. Confiding in a stranger is not comfortable.

Fuck this week. I guess I have to mention I'm suicidal to get this level of concern.

For the record/Diagnosed

For the record:

I am not a 'believer' or 'follower' in Satan. He's a myth. Whatever. I don't do things for him. "Hail Satan" is a joke. It's counter culture. I don't believe in Satan.

Here's my 'belief'

Diagnosed:
 
I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder. It's always been clear on this blog. Now it's incredibly frustrating:

1. The initial response was that I was going to kill myself at the mentioning of suicide seemed radical. 
2. Being constantly asked "Are you sad?" and "Are you lonely?" really made me feel sad and lonely.
3. Promising everyone I'm going to be safe.

Now I just feel angry. I knew it was always around, but I thought I was just a little off. Constantly hoping it would fade away, I just let it reside. I feel disgusted when I show my emotions to others, it's humiliating.

Questions are driving me insane.

The worst fears I've had became reality:

1. My family discovering this without my consent.
2. Feeling like a sick person to my family.
3. Generalized lack of understanding with most people.
4. Not being able to be alone.

There was more, I just can't think.

Telling everyone about my suicidal thoughts and personal issues I wasn't ready to divulge felt like being violated. Feeling pressured to speak, especially about issues I do not want to caused stress. 

It was always prevalent, but now that I'm diagnosed and being evaluated, the 'symptoms' are amplified. I have a disorder. I can't write right now, I'm too busy being reminded of all the medications I'll have to research and therapy I'll have to go through.


I can't write anything well, give me a few days.


The crushing pressure weighing down upon my weary back
The tedious routines of day to day poise to attack
The poisonous pollution and the pointlessness of care
And in a blink we blow away to dust upon the air