Does Howard Still Make Art?

Oddly specific things I find on the internet. “Idealism” folder in the Google drive. Howard was an artist. While time I’m just like “FUCK, well someone’s gotta do it.”

Roller Coaster

These last few days have been rough. A lot worse than how it’s been in a long time, but I managed to pull through without calling you or e-mailing you so I guess I’m getting better at living with this illness.

Still, I don’t know what to pursue.

I know I’m making small steps towards change, a new, brighter future but maybe right now, in this moment, as I type, I’m feeling impatient.

For the last 20 minutes or more I felt the clarity of mind I hadn’t had in a while, and it’s nice to know that I guess I come down from the high of utter madness, but still I wish I wouldn’t go crazy at all.

There are happy emotions and feelings mixed in with the negative ones too.

I don’t like that I revisit this love but I’m happy I’ve known love, ya’know?

All in all, I suppose it is what it is.

Do you remember “The Unbearable Lightness of Being?”
”Ess muss sein, muss ess sein?”

I got the updated german language version:

Es ist wie es ist.

Legal High Pontofications

Just typing to type here don’t mind me.

I don’t know what the fuck is going on with me.

I mean your birthday comes up and all of a sudden I’m suffering for two months.

I mean yeah, it makes sense that I’d think of you on your birthday. That’s what I memorized, I wanted to be there on birthdays, and all holidays, if I could, that makes sense, but making sense is not enough to rid me of my madness.

I’m split into two or more people.

I try to make my feelings small in my mind, cut off the thoughts, disregard the voices but still, if I don’t do anything, if I bottle up how I feel, I think I’d start taking my frustration out on the people around me.

At least that’s what I was like when I was a teenager, 13.

And my life, it isn’t perfect, but it’s beautiful.

I have been blessed, in many ways, and even in the way that I think I learned to love, that I love(d) you.

It doesn’t make sense to continue loving you, with all the nasty things you’ve said to me, and (for your own safety) sending me to jail, but every time I try to throw away these emotions, to drown them in misery, to strangle them knowing I should pursue someone else, they come back. Like a horror movie, but it isn’t that dramatic.

I love feeling love, I love the happy feeling these thoughts bring me, they are in fact, easing from time to time, but isn’t it bittersweet to love someone that doesn’t love you back?

And how do I go on explaining this to “the next girl” that I’ve effectively made a public shrine to you that anyone can see if they peer deep enough into my blog, into my life.

It’s sickening, and I think maybe I should just make this blog private, so no one can see, but I can already see the questions:

“What’s on that private page?”

“What do you have there?”

I’m not attempting to lead a double life.

Being with me would also mean being with my burden, and that’s true for anyone, but I do think this blog halts progress, in the sense that, someone interested in me finds it, reads it, gets upset and decides I’m not worth the effort.

Sweet Aphrodite, grant me the love that will move me beyond this burden, find me a love that thinks I am worth the effort.

In Jesus name.

Namu Amids Butsu.

Insanity Forever(?)

The voices have been mentioning you all day today, I feel like even if I take my medication, I can’t escape this new chapter that I’m in, and I’m hesitant to ask the doctor to increase my dosage, since I’m on an opiate and I already think I have a chemical dependency on it. That is to say, if I don’t take it for long enough, I can’t sleep.

The voices also go around telling me things you do and don’t do, things you remember, things you love. All of these totems, rituals, acts, objects, that represent me in your life, but nothing to avail me of my yearning. Some yearning in me that comes from beyond my conscious mind. Some cry of the soul that I turn to see and turn back from.

I’m going in circles. I’m feeling in circles.

Maybe I’m wiring in circles..?

The voices say your “husband” dumped out all of your medication, but this is a great reason to call your doctor, explain the event, and see if there is anyway your doctor could find you temporary or maybe permanent housing to escape an abusive relationship.

I don’t know if any of what the voices are saying is true, you yourself described it as “illusive ranting” (or maybe that wasn’t you, specifically) but if it is true, if any of it is true, that’d be my solution.

I have a headache.

Questions no one will answer

Saw a video on Instagram of a girl with her guy getting her period…

Should I always keep backup Freya in the freezer or do you not like frozen chocolate?

My buddy from Sweden keeps Marabou around the house but I think it’s just for him. He has a partner don’t get me wrong but HE* thinks it’s the best chocolate in the world…

Anyway…

It is pretty good chocolate though, lol.

I apologize

At the time I sent the gift basket of chocolate and crackers I didn’t think that I should specifically send the brand “Freya”

I apologize, to you, and the office, but I don’t think I’m going to do it again.

Meaning

Voices just said if you had stayed you would have behaved like Steiner, who galavants and does whatever he wants.

Now I’m finally hearing things I can understand.

Voices also said that in the past tense, and I know you’ve already said how you have a husband and a child.

Good. Hopefully the end of this will arrive soon.

Hospital

Voices are talking about this time I was admitted to the hospital by my grandmother and while I was on the stretcher a girl that looked similar/sort of like you walked in and pointed at me down the hall and walked out.

Obviously, the “thing to do” would have been to chase you down in the throes of my madness and get all the answers I needed to get or wanted to get out of you then, but I’m in my head even when I’m out of my mind and I knew that doing that would only make my situation worse.

Another week long or more stay at the looney bin and I am where I am now, sans other details.

I don’t know why they zero in and bring up these hyper specific events but hey, I guess I’m just rolling with it.

I have to pay more money to put Spotify on this page

But I will, so when people click this page the playlist of all those love songs will play and they can read and scroll and maybe that will create a more immersive “heartache/heartbreak” experience as they listen to all the songs of various and multiple genres that all really talk about the same thing in different ways… anyway, some “idealism”

Uhnoid

Voices say you were sexually assaulted in New York by your family.

That if we stayed together you would have left without any notice.

That you hate that I would be fine left alone.

Other things.

I’m just annoyed because I keep hearing this.

Unfaithful

Voices keep saying we broke up or if we continued to be together you’d be unfaithful.

So if that’s true I suppose it’s a good thing we’re not together.

On the other hand my feet are dipping into polyamory and I don’t know that I’d care so much at this stage in my life.

Don’t get me wrong dear reader: I would prefer monogamy, however, I am opening my mind to new or different relationship styles.

Anyway, listening to a new album, vibing at work, just trying to think about something other than you.

Weed Weed

I got high last night.

At first it was fine, but then the voices started to chime in, one by one, as I did my best to not consider them, not really take in what they had to say.

I had the feeling that I was being “passed around like a blunt” as each voice took their turn speaking to me, talking about me.

Some of them said I’m too good for you.

At some point I hallucinated someone vomiting on my right shoulder.

And in the middle of it all there were two polar opposite forces manipulated the muscles on the right and left side of my head.

At some point I called one of them “The loser singularity.”

The other, was apparently some guy you wanted to be with more than me.

There was more but all in all it lead me to today, where I thought something like

“Well maybe if I keep being wrapped up in these feelings, and there is no one to accept my expression of how I feel, maybe I’m destined to never find love again.”

And in that same experience, I was thinking, if I don’t write these things down, I don’t make them real. They don’t have a chance to be etched into existence, they don’t have any magic as some mental spell.

I don’t believe I won’t find love again, I think I would if I made it a priority, but it’s not, at the moment.

Beyond that, the world is large, and I haven’t met every woman on the planet.

I’ve thought if my partner asked me to delete this blog, then I would, I could, I don’t know if I’d start it again, or keep a notebook, my hope is that I’d be able to talk to them about my illness, and that we could move forward in treating it together.

But I don’t think I’m in such a decrepit state that I’m wholly unlovable, until the end of time.

Of course not, I know I can improve.

There traits belong to the two opposite forces in my mind that hate each other and yet want to emulate me.

And yet somehow, their real life counterparts have everything I could have ever wanted with you.

A wife and a child.

I no longer desire those things. If anything I wish to be forgotten, cast aside, so that I can reemerge in a new fantastical light that I have not been seen in before.

Even I’m annoyed at all this whining and writing to no one.

No one comments.

I don’t know if anyone reads.

But I can’t have it be bottled up either, and I’d rather if people wanted to, that they could engage with this.

Bounce ideas off.

Make light of it.

Something to take the edge off.

While there were also tales of you and incest, I chose not to write anymore detail about it, at least not in this large public space.

And also one of the voices was talking to Jessica, who admitted to the voice that we haven’t had words in almost 3 years now.

I wouldn’t treat her any differently because of it, but her voice seemed to know who it was that was pretending to be me.

Trying to steal my “psychic” identity.

Very odd.