Your Mom

Apparently this has all been a plot by your mother?

I was taking a piss as the voices spoke to me and I thought was this some convoluted scheme thought up by a woman who couldn’t have the life she wanted to or was told she should have?

Apologies to your father if this table has turned the right way, but I honestly want to be done thinking about the horrors and their consequences.

Bi-Polar

Earlier in the day the voices were saying things like:

“ (your name)’s life is in the United States with Daniel Fairclough.”

And I felt my body swell up and in the back of my mind, before I decided to write down what I was feeling, I know I was happy to hear that.

This and all of these other things, if Schizo-Affective Disorder is one part bi-polar and one part schizophrenia I guess that bi-polar part comes from hearing about you. It’s tied together for sure but I get these bubbling waves of happiness that I don’t as effectively kill in my mind like I have with the waves of sadness, when they say you were cheating on me, which I went through and entire episode about with audio messages and everything before I got to the other side of that tunnel.

That was a tunnel of dread, this is a tunnel of love.

And what accompanies it are these thoughts that one day I can tell you in person, to your face that you are my favorite person.

That one day we can lay together in bed.

That one day I can and will embrace you again.

Then I take a deep breath and sigh loudly because that too is a delusion, a hallucination, or not even, just idle thoughts triggered by the hallucinations, more “illusive ranting” to use your words.

It killed me to keep feeling for you when I was with someone else, and while my heart is a little harder now I don’t want this to last forever.

I didn’t know

Voices are telling some revelation that loosely involves me or my blog and that it was talked about in circles and spaces unknown to me.

Voices also describe you as living like some Pack animal, stewing in your own feces and urine that never escaped your bedding.

So…

Ya’know…

A Wasted Life

One thing that seems to be brewing in my psychosis is this idea that because you were so committed to your plot for revenge that you sacrificed years of happiness that you could have had instead by staying and being with me in America.

I’m not necessarily sure I believe in that, because for a long time, and even now I’m barely above the poverty line, and it doesn’t seem to matter (at least for now) how much I work, I’m still living paycheck to paycheck.

Of course if we did our due diligence and got a place or lived where I am now and were on two or fucking 3 incomes here life wouldn’t be horrible, but I am absolutely measuring our happiness in our immediate material wealth.

Or maybe you’d want to travel, and maybe I’d be a teacher, and maybe we wouldn’t have children, and maybe in those bygone years we could’ve saved enough to at least own an apartment somewhere.

I can’t go trusting and just blindly believing the hallucinations, I know that, you know that, but these little, fragments of “what if” storylines, they nag me, and ever so slightly pull at my heart strings.

"Better Off"

Voices have been quiet or, in the background for the last few days but today they keep repeating “better off”

If you want to be with (your name) you have to have been “better off” - and what I assume it trails off into is “better off without her [in your life] “

I’m, trying to focus on losing wight right now, since my school term is coming down to about the last two or three years, God willing.

I’m starting to see the end of this journey, light at the other side of the tunnel, and the possibility of what the future could hold with nothing dangling over my head.

I’m excited to jump into my art projects, investing, and really enjoying my summer and winters, maybe a bit of traveling and then new job opportunities.

This isn’t about you anymore, its really about me being excited with quiet anticipation for the end of what would have been 10-15 years of school work just chasing a bachelors degree, but of course with taking one class at a time and paying out of pocket, and of course that also means, not attending when I couldn’t pay, but it’s almost, finally fucking over.

I’m happy to have accomplished this. Once my investing starts to bear fruit I’ll look into buying a car and start driving again, go places I want to see in and out of state.

Life is good.

I wouldn’t say “better off without you” because I’d love to share in these same joys or more with you,

but even without you that hasn’t stopped life from being good.

Idk why I’m writing to you

Really trying to consider what would happen if we got bombed. If I’d have to go to work, if I’d have enough money to keep paying for, really good to survive.

How will the system break down around me?

What are my next steps?

What about my family?

Scary stuff honestly.

I’m only writing here because I think in the past maybe you viewed my country positively.

And while there are still good things about it, good people here, why isn’t it enough to enact, proper, righteous change?

We need it so badly right now, but is there some larger power telling us now isn’t the right time?

What gives… I wonder.

This really has nothing to do with you. It should be on my main blog.

But if I die in rocket fire I don’t want to leave anything unsaid.

My family knows I love them.

My friends know I love them.

Hell you of all people should know I love you!

But I guess it doesn’t hurt to say it again.

Taylor Swift

Now I can add that Taylor Swift song to the playlist.

Voices said you’re starting to “see clear”and that you may staunchly be a lesbian.

Hopefully this self discovery you seem to be having in my head is true to you, otherwise I have no idea why I’m entering a self-realization process for someone else.

Very confusing, and in no way helpful.

Unserious

My mind keeps drifting back to the girl on the train in the pink jacket that looked so much like you.

The voices want me to believe ABWjr got on the train after me and just immediately made out with her, but then they say she started to laugh.

Like I’ve mentioned previously, if thats how you want to get my attention, I don’t appreciate it, further more, you have literally every other avenue to do it, and I’d respond.

Second, I don’t think I’d want to try and start a serious relationship with someone so unserious.

The future, my future, is not something I want to leave to chance or the whims of fate, y’know?

Anyway.

Playing Favorites

In my head it keeps repeating, or I keep repeating or some part of me, past or present, existent or non-existent keeps repeating to some image or effigy of you, you know who you are.

But the story so far is that you weren’t even there on your wedding day. That somehow and in some way you got a doppleganger or someone similar enough to stand in your place and you’ve been playing a long con on Howard for god knows how long.

This all developed in the psychic world over the weekend and into Monday, it’s funny, to say the least, but tragic to be on the receiving end.

Now the voices keep repeating that same old tired mantra to you, through me (for some reason): “you should have stayed.”

And that you would have been in love with me in my terrible 20’s as I hopped from house to house party drinking myself to death and blacking out drunk damn near every other weekend.

But the reality is, had you stayed, most likely none of that would have ever come to fruition.

C’est la vie!

VOLTRON

SO ALL THREE OF US NIGGAS HAVE TO COMBINE TO MAKE THE PERFECT MAN FOR YOU BITCH?! YOU DONT WANT ANY OF US MOVE THE FUCK ON!

One has to be richer

One has to be taller

Idk what the 3rd nigga needs I started laughing as I began typing this lmao

MSF'00

A new hand truly does touch the beacon, as MSF the person I described as that seemingly unknown black Norwegian actor is now the subject of my psychosis.

Specifically they’re again talking about Argentina.

They claim no incest happened at all.

They call back to that girl that you apparently went to New York with when we broke up, the girl you left there.

That was/is “someone else.”

But I’ve gone over this already, I know I have, because the night that dawned on me I erupted in laughter.

They call back to the picture you sent me, with the family at the table, Steinar looking almost angry, at least in my memory.

I’m not sure how I should be processing this information. It’s like there are two sides of this line, on one side, the horrors of incest, on the other side, the consequences of some girls actions for not wanting to be who she is.

I don’t know how to deal with either of them, I’m not equipped.