I am still a rat in a cage.
All of your justifications and explanations for the horrors you present to me, Steinar, come late, on the shores of ears that wish to be deafened, eyes that wish to be blinded.
Another message for Steinar
Because I hear you in my psychosis saying
“Know why you don’t want your wife? Because I would want one”
What was the fucking point in all of this?
If you were this much of a monster why do any work to hide it? Why embrace me? Why am I still living if all of these hallucinations are small facets of the truth?
What the fuck is happening to me
This is why-
This is why we can’t have nice things.
It’s just a power vacuum of people not allowing one another to have what they want or be happy with what they have.
Someone “pulling the strings” or rather “turning the dials” to warp and twist our perceptions of reality, to make the known unknown or force us into “unthinkable” calamity.
They are correct when they say “If Daniel Fairclough knew, he would kill someone”
I don’t think I’d kill one person however, I think I’d murder everyone I could get my hands on.
You’re the last person on Earth
And somehow that translates to you being the last person on Earth to get what you want.
Voices keep saying you are shit to get/do whatever you want, but if you go somewhere there’s someone that always finds you, your “father” and this relates somehow to you still using that same phone number, or at least that’s what’s displayed on your employee profile: the phone number to your fathers Nokia.
I wonder if you/he is still using that old brick too. They were/are marvelously study.
The voices in my head are like, fighting to give me a better life, and they keep going “I WANT TO KNOW MORE!” And this somehow is in regards to you.
They say when I was growing up no one wanted me because ABWJr “turned all the way up” and declared he was homosexual, and he’s been going back and forth with MSF to figure out who he really was/is or if he was actually me.
All this and more surrounds me.
The voices ebb and flow like the tide.
I’m gonna go have another beer.
Black Metal
The things you do to “never be included” in “Black Metal” are the things that are supposed to inspire Black Metal.
In my head, Black Metal talks about the absurdities and injustices in the world, but before they can get inspiration to write their music, they have to see someone or perceive someone performing the acts.
Unfortunately, it appears that Black Metal isn’t inspired to speak out on these atrocities, just because they exist, instead it tortures people to perform them before the music can find its voice.
The long con.
i.e.
it wants the daughter to suck her fathers penis to get inspiration to make the song.
It wants the stranger to be murdered to get inspiration to make the song.
I’d even go as far to say not only does the Black Metal artist want it to happen, they want to be there at the scene of the crime, when it happens, they want to witness it.
Terrible.
FYI
I did look.
I did see you “going down on” the Chinese food box, but I don’t know if I saw Steinar’s penis or if you were sucking off spare ribs.
I saw you brush your teeth and spit after too.
Voices say you only did it because you wanted to die, but what the hell do I know?!
Murder
Voices say you were in on the plot to kill me when I met your parents.
That if I was “anyone else” I would’ve been murdered in that hostel/inn room to inspire black metal.
Now, however, I get all these voices in my head talking about suicide or me being a “martyr” so if I had died then wouldn’t everyone had gotten what they wanted?
None of this makes any sense to me.
“Only me”
Voices go: “Only Daniel Fairclough would be able to say something like that now”
And if you have become some grotesque abomination, please, someone show me.
Something tangible, like I’ve been doing. Picture, video, audio.
Help a brother out.
While I’m still in a good mood…
What I hate the most about myself is that I still think of you fondly, even the “new” you.
I keep thinking of ways I’d care for you, I keep holding space for you in my head which is ultimately my heart.
After that last post I hallucinated a voice saying “if I had an Instagram you’d be blocked” and, while that is a fair, if not, reasonably reality, I also see us talking again, laughing, caring about what’s happening in one another’s lives.
And I don’t know what to call this other than the all encompassing term, “love.”
It’s just here for you, whenever you want it, and maybe it will always be here for you, because as damn hard as I try to push past it I always seem to find myself confronted by it in one way or another.
It doesn’t suck that I love you.
What sucks is that you don’t love me back.
One more
Same post.
I wish I knew your Instagram (if you had one) so I could send you memes
New Meme
But this could be as much me as it could be you
Consume Urine and Feces
Voices keep saying you only cook Howard feces and urine to eat, and he doesn’t know how to take care of himself, or hold down a job.
I think, a situation like that is no place for a child, let alone a grown man.
Voices also say “that’s the opposite” over and over again, but to everything. I know I’ve said this before but I stopped trying to decide what’s the “truth” in all of my hallucinating.
They recently said that last email exchange, where you said you’d spread “racism” about me was “the opposite,” which I didn’t expect to hear, because I had been using those words, remembering those words to ground me in reality, to try and prevent or stifle my “natural,” “warm and fuzzy” feelings for you.
I feel like an Olympic ping pong ball.
High hopes
I should t be hopeful, with everything that I know, but the voices make it sound like it’s the opposite.
I know what I should be thinking and believing, that I’ll never see or speak to you again, but it’s like my brain is tricking itself to “be positive” or think “maybe someday” when you have made it abundantly clear that the inverse is true.
Why is this happening?
Why am I like this?
Basically...
How long will this last?
Is psychosis forever?
“Yearning” has become popular online recently but I don’t think people know how much yearning actually sucks.
Unrequited love.
All that jazz.
Autism
Voices in my head make you or “someone else” sound like this autistic chick:
https://www.instagram.com/reel/DSsZJ0RkSf_/?igsh=MXBraHA3czF4cmFocw==
Like this is what I have to look forward to in a relationship with you or “someone else”
P.S.
Ok clearly that can’t be “you” and by “you” I mean the “you” I address when I say “you” (you know who you are) because you have a job. You are working. Or were, I found said job, etc.
Make it make sense
So, if everyone else, but you, was operating under your username, why did I meet you, if you weren’t also interested in me?
It sounds as if, in my psychosis, that ABWjr, who has been pretending to be me all these years, along with MSF, met “someone else.”
But I met you, I even checked to make sure it was you, and shared my information so you knew it was me!
If your “mother” held space for me or your “father” and “Odin” was interested in my music then what? Your family will fight over me to see who gets to continue their relationship with me?
I can already tell I can’t have a relationship with your mother.
I’m not homosexual, so there goes a relationship with your father or brothers.
I only had eyes and ears and a mouth and a nose and all my other senses pointed at, thinking of, trying to court and woo, you.
Why would anyone else matter?
LOML
There are so many variables at play.
Voices earlier in the day said you’d pinch me because I’m honestly dreaming if I thought we were getting back together.
And quite literally I had that dream.
I don’t remember it now but I remember going through the day and going “wait no that’s not true.”
I’ve been thinking about you so much without thinking about you.
And yeah, the psychosis kind of forced my hand when it comes to admitting how much I love and adore you, but the psychosis also makes it feel like I never knew you at all.
I’m not, slamming my head against a wall about it or anything but I can’t pretend to be apathetic either.
I’m numb, but I still feel, at least in small amounts.
No more screaming into voice recordings.
No more video threats of coming out of the closet.
No more trying to do anything just to get you to respond.
That’s all that was.
But why were YOU so damn important.
Why wasn’t it a girl that actually lived nearby? Someone that wouldn’t cost $4,000 to visit regularly?
And why’d you get into a relationship so quickly?
How’d you get over me so soon?
Why did I drag myself near deaths door so many times, so frequently every time life decided to try and put someone else in my arms?
That’s over now but I was such a sad, wild man.
And I’m over here still rapping about it, thinking of you, wishing I knew what was true, wanting to see you, only knowing your name.
What else is there..?
The Dark Urge
It’s not really a window of clarity, but I’ve noticed I’ve come to a point in my condition where I blog less, where I reach out less.
This isn’t to say that the voices have stopped, but also, and they instigate, that they have some frequency that can force me to type or give me the feeling that I want a dialogue with you.
By now you should know that you are the greatest love of my life, and I don’t intend to have anything or anyone take your place, at least not at this moment, but I find it odd that the voices kind of, sound as if they’re toying with me, like I’m some puppet on their strings.
True, I have to will myself to write even something as simple as this now, but if you were within arms reach of me, after all of these sweet nothings do they think I’d sit in a room idly with you for even a moments notice?
Yes yes yes the “puppy love” phase dies, but aren’t Norwegians known for “enjoying the silence” and if it came to the fact that I was listening to music and you were reading a book do they think I wouldn’t ask you what you thought or give you the paper for a sudoku puzzle or put my head phones on you to listen to a song that makes me think of you or ask you what you’d want to eat later or if you’d like to watch a movie and etc etc etc?!
The possibilities are endless.
But the fact of the matter is that you are literally thousands of miles away.
Medication not working?
Been on new meds for a few weeks now, but honestly it feels like my psychosis is getting worse.
I woke up Saturday morning legitimately thinking we were going to get back together, before I shook my head and realized the voices have really been doing a number on me.
I think after these next 6 months if this keeps up I might ask my doctor to increase my dosage again, but I gotta do something to lose weight too.
Realistically I have to do both, work on the voices and work out, at the same time, but this sucks. It wasn’t even going to not suck but man, this sucks.