bipolar is all about control and organization and making your own crap make sense to you
and you alone
and in the middle of the nite you re-arrange everything and then you wake up and everything is forgotten and your friend is like where in the fuck is my shit and is in a flurry and angry at you and you are angry at them for not understanding your logic, dis-logic, pretty much, and everyone around you suffers to all hell
but you are suffereing too. you’re “happy” and everyone just sits there and watches your self-nutsy campaign
and no one steps in to save you from yourself and stop your retardedness until you run out of the house and straight to the looner-lodge and make-out with four-point restraints and a tranquilizer needle in yer left hip and you are screaming this is traumatic this is traumatic
and you’re crazy for a little while
a long while
a hell of a long while
and you have to fix yourself with the help of others
but still
nothing can be said in your state to aid in snapping you out of those thoughts in the right way
you can’t even tell your own person how to make it work
and in the looner-lodge things get worse by “getting better” because your psychiatrist only stops by a couple days in the 7 day stretsh you are there and the nurses mind-fuck you and so do the other patients because they are schizophrenic, scam artists, suicidal, EVERYTHING you could dream of.
i told dylan that if i cannot be guaranteed prom kingage then i. am. not. going.
that’s nick my homeless indie photographer who smokes native indian cigarettes and has a ghetto tape deck in his humpty that plays your cassettes in slow-motion. sick!
i’m getting my first wisdom tooth and it couldn’t have exposed itself at a more suitable time in my life
so much wisdom so much insight so much truth
my left and right brains are channeling
the synapses are sparking like jumper cables in a vacant parking lot and you tell me that you don’t have the time to give me a boost so i sit on a curb to sharpen my senses and then i rifle through my wallet for the photograph of my neice and then i decree aloud,
don’t stir the pot by saying this that the other and assuming they wants to lay you
you want knives in my back or not, you fucking delivered them
i don’t have time for this mickey mouse bullshit
any friggin’ more
just remember what it was like in the beginning
before you ever came here
before we met
i moved to toronto and linked everyone and now i can’t be with you’s all ‘cos it brings me too much stress too much drama and too much pain to hear lies and gossip and rumors
i don’t want any part of it anymore
we can be friends and talk about the good ole gays when things were clever and angst-filled
don’t go all over the internet getting your link above mine just because you think it makes me angry
it’s kinda laughable
that you’re still like that
don’t go around commenting linking and fake-loving
‘cos i know what it’s really all about behind the scenes where “the magic happens”
a blog is a blog is a blog
you fully admitted you ripped me off from the start and this is the respect i get now
i took down ALL links and would link you gladly in a post and you know it but your ego won’t allow you to ask and you don’t even have to
i have far too many emotions over it right now to do anything about it
you knocked me up, i had an abortion and now i have an iud that is tearing my cervix apart
i never wanted to have an abortion and i know the hatemail that will come from mentioning it but yeh, not a day goes by that i don’t think about it
you did yer thing when i was a crazy loon and that shouldn’t have happened
the abortion had to of happened, all the medications i was on at the time, the thingamaling would of had arms growing out of it’s eye-sockets
and now i think i won’t go to heaven
because of us not because of you because i know that i am far from blameless in all of this
i chose my road i chose my path and all paths eventually lead to heaven but right now things are pretty hellish and this bloog of mine is a burden and a blessing sometimes it is one more than the other
