:\ empezar

I found out one of my friends is going to be leaving Facebook soon, deactivating her account. That puts a great sadness in my heart, honestly, especially considering what she means to me. I couldn't ask for her to stay just because of my personal emotions, anyways, especially if I know that'd prevent her from being happy in the long-run. Maybe we could be penpals or something of that nature.

It's weird, because I'm not really all that used to being attached to people... Kind of figures it'd happen when she elected to be my sister, though. And I told her minutes before I'd always wanted a sister.
Such is life.

Virtually nobody...

...really realizes what I do on a daily basis. How many people have I helped today? I helped one person who was mourning the impending death of a loved one, another who was mourning the loss of a relationship, listened to somebody speaking about their frustration about their living situation, another about the release of the worry of their friend and their self, another person about their depression and suicidal thoughts, another person about their father's illness, dealing with the aftermath of an article I've published and responsibility I've taken on, sometimes I just want to shut everything out. Even right now, I'm being spoken to by a friend. Do people think I give them my full attention, that they're the only thing that I could possibly have to think about? That they're my whole reality?

Oh yeah, then there's my friend moving back to Fresno and telling me about her classes. At least we'll be the same class together. Honestly, though, why do I do this to myself? It's so funny, because from another person's perspective, they think... oh god, and that reminds me of the other girl that was complaining because she said I was ignoring her =_=

WHY?

I'm already dealing with illness... At the same time, I realize it isn't all about me. I beyond know that, but I have to watch out for myself, I know...

...well, at least his self-esteem is back again. I lower myself to raise them up so frequently. School is quickly approaching...

This is becoming such a fast-paced existence... Is that what I want? I seem to be handling it okay, despite the fact that I'm virtually physically dying, roflmao. 30lbs in a month... from not being able to eat. It's such a weird gap between intention and inability. I know I SHOULD be able to do something, I get so frustrated I can't just do it through sheer willpower, yet I can't... like with my social anxiety and OCD. This time, it's anorexia. Not Anorexia Nervosa... I am pretty secure about my weight, generally speaking. I came to the conclusion health outweighs weight a long time ago, and I'm pretty damn fit... at least I was until this past year. Marching band is coming up in a month, but in this condition...

I can't sustain myself... at this rate, I won't even be able to survive, let alone do anything else. I can only lose so much body mass between things start going south VERY quickly... pfft, as if they haven't already been. Disassociation is a blessing and a curse, I suppose. I would be in a remarkable amount of pain right now if I could feel it, I imagine. Well, several people have the same intuitive conclusion of what it is I'm dealing with based upon my symptoms... something I was pretty much expecting for anyways.
It's the one bad thing I haven't had happen yet: cancer.

The doctor didn't even really have to inquire much further past the standard questions, considering I answered each one with "yeah" and she didn't even bother saying why she was doing a blood draw past the full blood panel my psychiatrist recommended I get immediately... like a month ago. Thanks parents. Hahaha...
Several for the lymph nodes. I am positive I have all of the symptoms of lymphoma, excluding one, which I may or may not have (I don't have a thermometer).
I'm certain she knows that, too. She probably realized I'm predisposed. She did have my history on record, after all...

Anyways, not that losing that much weight is a bad thing, I just hope it's fat, lol... I kind know it's not, though. What worries me a bit is that I don't know where a tumor would be. Most likely it's lymphoma, considering I've had almost all of the predisposing illnesses... or almost all of them, and have all of the symptoms specific to that cancer, but my lymph nodes aren't swollen like before... My lung and sinus infection is clearing up as the rash is spreading and I continue to lose weight, becoming further malnourished, but... shit, does it have a specific place, or is it the leukemia type? Because that would suck. Horribly. I'm not too fond of the idea of radiation of any type, period. I'm hyper-sensitive to shit like that. ._. I'm not really worried about dying despite my body pretty much expressing the signs, because my intuition is saying it's going to be okay, I just have to wait for things to proceed, but still, that's kind of annoying. Assuming my intuition is right, and assuming I lose my hair, I'm totally drawing on my head >:D I'll have an excuse to. It will be so badass, but this weight loss thing... it has to end. It has to end soon. It's progressing far to rapidly. I have faith it will end, but I guess I'm just kind of impatient. I want to know the "how" about things... I already know the "why?" at this point. It's funny how I still even want to deny that much. It's not even a bad thing...

My fate is to experience these bad things for the sake of the consequence, and I have long resigned myself to it. There's nothing else I'd want. I gave up my free-will long ago... I guess that allowed me to see past the illusion of it sooner, and I suppose the consequence of that was peace, once I knew how to see it. Pistis Sophia and the Philosopher's Stone... The endless cycle, transcending the peak and resolve, and synthesizing... bridging... 

It's shocking to think people would want to know me, but then it's not... I knew this was my fate. I knew it since I could know anything... I think some do realize what my reality entails... how it relates to their own, and what's coming.

Still, I've got to remember the short-term, too... that's where I'm deficient. Though just as real as what I know is coming, I have to sustain myself... unless this is the critical point approaching. I don't feel it yet, though... and now again I'm reminded that the beauty is the willingly unknown. That's what I chose. That's why they exist. I'll always know love is the why... for better or for worse. It's been a long metamorphosis.

It seems like a tangent, but is it really? Only to everybody else, I guess... but I wonder how far they can see without bridging into what only I've known this whole time. Maybe I don't give enough credit to other people. In some ways, I must not...

Krista tried to talk to me tonight... it's the second time today I've had to turn down the invitation to converse. I really am exhausted. I don't feel like talking to anyone... I barely feel like talking to myself, but at least this gets the thoughts out of my head, even if it physically hurts. The physical pain never seems to outweigh the emotional. Goddamn arthritis. 

I still wonder if being honest about my concerns is the right thing to do or not. I used to think it was selfish, but now I'm realizing that being honest about it allows me to show others it is possible, while I'm living, to be strong throughout my struggles. I've faced so many things alone that other people aren't aware of... they don't even understand my process of coping. It's not surprising I feel alone so often.

...and yet ANOTHER person tries to start a conversation.
....................

Well, there's an example of my introverted characteristics. >_>
So many things locked inside, I need to get them out somehow... self-injury comes to mind, but no. I can't return down that path. I slipped up not all that long ago, and now I have a new scar hidden away from the eyes of the world. I wonder how many of those I have at this point... Way more figuratively than physically, but the physical amount, I'm sure, is astounding... yet I don't count these things. Too many times have I fallen, bumped, scratched, bruised, bled where nobody can see. If I were to cry every time, would I have time to do anything else? It's necessary to retain some level of distance from that pain. I'll save my tears for the very end or take them to the grave. They're a waste of time. 

One thing I can happily say is I haven't been suicidal lately. There's a lot of irony in that statement, because of all times, you'd think this would be the worst in terms of my mood... Nope. Bi-polar disorder, you're such a troll. I'm bound to crash, I just hope it isn't soon. These things I can't really know, either, but there's also no point in dwelling on things I couldn't possibly know. I guess these questions just come and go... and that's okay. Everything is okay.

I remember when I was little... I used to be scared that if I closed my eyes, people would think I was dead, but more significantly, that I wouldn't wake up. Trapped in a perpetual nightmare... I don't fear that anymore. The irony is that there's not much left to fear, because I've been through virtually all of it. Even death, itself. Whatever life brings, the truth remains. Whatever I believe, I am the truth, even if that truth doesn't exist. Semantics don't matter... these utterances are lulling me to sleep. The sound of my thoughts echoing, more meaning lost with each phrase the essence is limited by... yet more falsity is created. Giving is taking, receiving is being gifted.

Now is a time for sleep. To my subconscious cocoon I return.
Home.

Echo...

I am truth.
To be trapped in ambivalence, words seem like sounds, sounds are chaotic, then the question arises: just where is the meaning? (I am truth)
If there's none within, none personal to give, then the question becomes "Just why do we live?" (Is it a choice?)
Sometimes there's a wall there. (Is this an illusion?)
Sometimes there are two verses being sung, yet you don't want to be limited by your perception of the judgement of others. (Are there others?)
No, on the contrary, you are quite alone, left only with yourself... (Can I be heard?)
You project your voice, and only hope for even so much as an echo, something depraved, even corrupt, because in the void there is only you. (Will this make me real?)
Eventually you even start to believe the lies, left alone inside of your cage; the system... (Is there any actual escape from truth?)
Falling into delusion... or is it awakening..? You start to question the validity of your own voice, when the echoes begin to accumulate, rebounding endlessly, and every time you try to speak, disproportionately do those ringing sounds drown you out, til you aren't the truth. (What is truth?)
You're still the slave to loneliness, but now those sounds you hear seem to become more like voices, and they begin to overpower your own. (I have a voice..?)
What is there to do, then, when you don't even know what you're truly a slave to? You become a songbird. (Maybe I always loved to sing; maybe I was never trapped...)
Further into delusion do you fall, because delusion is your only hope. All echoes take a life of their own, but now you have another to play with. Something not of yourself. (I love...)
You cling desperately now to those voices, now songs, but they always seem to go beyond you, beyond your understand, beyond your threshold; those which, even through your relentless pursuit of transliminality, they fade against your will. (If only I could reach a little further, hold a little tighter, maybe they wouldn't leave; maybe I wouldn't have this... feeling.)
In the act of creation, you splinter truth. In denying the whole, fragments you attempt to grab will turn to dust. Still, you try. (I am losing...)
Yearning so deeply, you will be abandoned; eyes fixed on illusion without, ungrounded, with no care for what is within. (It won't stop.....)
Your voice is weak, the echoes are gone, too tired to sing, the symphony you illustrated comes to a grand finale. Silence is the harmonizing feature of a beautiful song. (I am lost.)
Memories resound like echoes, playing over and over until they, too, are senseless. The purpose of a beginning is to have an ending. Something was real, but it wasn't you. (Now I understand...)
The sense resolves into chaos as truth begins to to emerge once more, taking you under, into its calling. (...)
... (I am truth.)

I tend to forget things...

...pretty easily. It's been a problem since I was little because it was a survival mechanism I had to access frequently. Pretty quickly I forgot the pain of yesterday, but it's true what they say.. The initial wound may heal,but scars never fade. Sometimes those scars hurt, and it seems that,like when you are hurt deeply,there is a reccurent ghosted throbbing,even if only in memory. This is probably it.. I may or may not be bipolar, but there is pain below the surface that byfar surpasses anything I could feel in one given moment. Pain that has accumulated over the passing of years and that I fear I will never be rid of. It comes to surface randomly.. and I,many times, can't say from where. I have forgotten, and this I will not forget. It's a shame,though, that when it breaks across that fine line it can ruin my moment,the present, the future..

Is this all a product of my psyche? And if it is, damn me. Why would I put myself through such unnecessary torment? It's not a concious choice, anyways. If I could end this, I would. I've tried and failed, and been reassured that this is something beyond me.. something that I can't completely alleviate on my own,or at least not through the courses of action in which I had engaged in. I don't like to be weak and dependent. I don't like to not have the answers,dwelling my own ignorance without direction..
Others say the first step is always acknowledgement, well OK. I did that.. I did that a long time ago. I can try to stay positive, and yes, I do my best. I've even tried to disregard it,sweep it under the carpet so to speak, but when the dust-bunnies clump together,pretty soon you have a monster and you can only wonder how you got in so far over your head. It's a scary feeling :\ I'm just glad,above all else,that I'm not there anymore.
My whole life, I have been warned, this will be a very significant part of my truth. Pat told me that my challenge will not to be overtaken by my depression.. that is the single biggest challenge I will have in my life.

According to official statistics, about a million people die by suicide annually, more than those murdered or killed in war.[35] According to 2005 data, suicides in the U.S. outnumber homicides by nearly 2 to 1 and ranks as the 11th leading cause of death in the country, ahead of liver disease and Parkinson's disease.

So why don't people consider mood-disorders a war of their own esteem? If you're a survivor of a physical war, it usually surmounts to dumb luck, but if you are a veteran of this type of internal war.. it is a result of courage and preserverance. That, I think, is worthy of being honored.

Graduation

People keep talking about how we're seniors and we're going to be graduating and how "Oh, it's so great".. all this crap.. but you know what? I don't even know if I'm going to make it to then. My mom ordered my cap and gown and
[evidently I fell into a coma not long after]

without regrets

There were some important things I had to learn this year.. like learning to let go. It has always been hard for me to know that I may actually care for people more than they particularly care about me,at least it was until I considered it in a different light. When somebody addresses their own need, the fuel mine. That's what allows this universe to function as it does..

"Everybody always says to live life with no regrets, but when you do,they get mad.."

It's like you can focus on hearing spoken words, or you can focus on the meaning behind them. You can focus on an individuals action, or you can focus on what they may have intended. You can present yourself like an encyclopedia, used only when those in need seek, or you can present yourself like an ambiguous excerpt, implying you have more meaning than you actually do.

.....

Use me, discard me like trash, tell me I am useless since you took all the good in me, tell me that I was nothing more than an object, the value to be drained at your disposal. Tell me.. tell me that you lied to me this whole time, that you were just like all of the other people who put such complete faith in.. tell me that this is all I meant to be to any person who could every come to mean anything to me for the rest of eternity. Tell me that I'm doomed... that this is fate.. Tell me how this is all my fault, had always been my fault, to blame myself, that I should be ashamed of myself.. Please, tell me I'm wrong, oh, so wrong..

Understanding our natural preferences had, at one point, been as natural as breathing, yet so much conditioning got in the way, and so much "knowledge" was acquired that would corrupt our intuitive judgment.. our understandings of our understandings became corrupt.

Desperately I try to retain whatever insight I have in my blessed moments of wisdom, try to remember "the truth".. and I guess the truth must be that we cannot always know the truth. We may not always understand the truth, but the truth will still exist. We may not touch,smell,taste,breathe,see the truth.. but it may be understood...

But what am I trying to do with my words and ways? Am I putting faith in her words or actions, because both have failed.. or am I putting my faith elsewhere.. Am I investing in my intuitive judgment of her nature? My beliefs are something I can maintain,regardless of changing circumstance, so in a way, if I were to put my full faith in her, judging initially that she is one pure of heart, and then considering that judgment a constant.. then no matter what mistakes she made, if she was truly pure of heart, the original pattern of behavior should persist despite the random errs of human nature.


Well, I need to remember it's okay to forgive myself for what I misjudged. It's natural for people to make mistakes.. and I can only justify forgiving myself, justify loving myself, if I choose to forgive and love others,as well.

... tell me I don't understand. tell me I don't care. tell me I'm wrong. tell me I don't love you, and that you're truly all alone. tell me I'm just a liar. tell me this isn't killing me. tell me those things if you believe they are true. I will swear to you they aren't.

Nobody really realizes...

How at risk I truly am. I'm trying; I'm trying desperately to figure out what it is I need, but I haven't found it, and I'm running out of time... I have limits. I can only withstand so much... I am about to meet my humanly threshold, and when that happens, nothing can stop what will happen in consequence. Nobody can. I'm just waiting to die, anyways... I guess it doesn't really matter, after all. I'll stop soon. They say insanity is going something over and over, while expecting a different result. I've been insane, trying over and over to find something that probably doesn't even exist. Something that won't exist in time.

"Something I wasn't sure of,
but I was in the middle of
Something I forget now,
but I've seen to little of..."

here we go again

I guess it must not really be new...

I keep thinking I just suddenly became this way... forgetting over and over... Forgetting I forget. I make the same mistakes, and I know it's necessary, but will it be the death of me?
    5/2010
"...but my intention never was to hurt her. I've never intentionally acted specifically for the sake of hurting people sadistically in my life. Especially not those I love... I don't trust myself, however. I'm so self-absorbed all the time, how could I possibly show real love? I'm just an inconsiderate moron, so wound up in their own affairs that they don't even notice themself becoming the very things they so strongly strive to oppose. What would she prefer? Me being honest, or me being a good friend? How could she appreciate and love something so disgraceful when everybody else (including its resident) would disown it? I know she is pure, kind and strong, yet... what would it mean to hope for love in return or to ask for it? I think it's wrong... selfish, despite its honesty... or maybe I've been wrong all along. I need to sleep. I need help from my dreams."

Why do I end up back there so frequently? I can see how deeply woven into my internal concept this motif is... very much at the core.

5/2010
"I know I must forgive her, them, us... So I'll pray. It will be a prayer of utmost sincerity... They couldn't have known what it meant... It's not their fault... It's a fault of the process; the negative that must exist for there to be love... for there to be love... I will be proactive... One day they will learn, and though it does not bring me comfort to think that they will suffer, too... I know they must learn their own lessons, just like I must... Yeah, that irony smarts a bit, but I just need to laugh it off."

This was over 2 years ago... both of these entries...

5/2010
"There's really nothing anybody could do about my feelings (or lack thereof), but Pat said I should not isolate myself because it gives no positive memories to draw strength or hope from, but...
I don't personally feel love, don't truly know any reason to fight for it, and it's like never even existed. Nobody could make me remember then, and all I know is pain. All I knew was the pain of ours that they wouldn't even know..."

...and yet another,
"Meh, Sara says they do care.
Sara contradicts herself with her own words.
Sara doesn't see the irony of being objective.
Sara couldn't know in this way, I shouldn't blame her.
So who is at fault, if anybody?
Aren't I the judgmental one?
In what strange universe am I superior?
In what deranged mindset am I different?
I fear this is all I could ever know to think,
I'm scared there's no purpose in learning."

I wrote so many poems...

"Nothing
there is nothing
that could help it
there is nothing I lack
nothing I need
nothing I want
but I'm still here

I don't even want to think about it
I want to not think

I don't want to do anything
which means I want to do nothing
and when I say I don't want it, it really means
I want to not want"

I'm so fucking done.

I'm tired of this bullshit. Life is bullshit. Yeah, this is the ego speaking, but guess what? It was never my real self to begin with. I'm tired of suffering every fucking day without reason. I'm tired of pretty much fucking everybody and everything. Except my cat. Sad that an animal is the closest I ever came to feeling cared about or dare I say loved. Better to die sober. Just to prove how fucking spent I am. I don't care about peoples' expectations. Yeah, I let them down, I let you all down, I don't care anymore, I can't care anymore. I have no reason to live; I'm done pretending I do. There was no meaning; I knew that. Make one up... I'm done. There is no point. NO POINT. I've been in pain for years, over 50 psychiatric medications, tried to kill myself so many times before. I will not fail this time. It isn't an option. Especially not the way I plan it. I will be dead. I don't care. I don't care what people will think about this. I don't care if it hurts. I DON'T FUCKING CARE. I should feel this, and I should feel that; bullshit. I'm not killing myself for the sake OF hurting people, I'm not killing myself to run away. I'm killing myself because I have no reason not to. I haven't had one for a very long time. No more running away... I'm gonna die anyways in the future, so what does it matter? What does my stupid life even mean to anybody? I'm socially isolated and I don't care. I don't fucking care. Everybody leaves. Now it's my turn. That something I needed... it was always just out of reach. Always; torture. I'm done with people pretending to care. I'm pretending not to. Now to make some final... I don't even fucking know. Wrapping this whole bullshit existence up and tossing it away with my life.

I said I'm making progress...

...but is it really the truth?

  I'm so depressed right now. I know my depression hasn't been as bad as it could be, otherwise I'd be considering suicide more seriously right now, so I guess that's good. Looking back tonight, however, at my past and questioning if coming out of the coma, into a world of difference, was the ethical thing to do for everybody else and myself. All perceived good AND bad was the product of that, and I'd been able to say that was justified to think it simply balanced out as an equation, but then it occurred to me today... that's not the best analogy. For some people, life truly isn't fair (in their perspective)... Would it be more just to return? Was it wrong of me, despite the good intentions? The Pistis Sophia.. This place of suffering and prosperity that I ended up; the product of my own decision to deviate... is it my fault? I know in the end, it all adds up to 1... truth... It began as one, and it doesn't matter how it fractures, it's still one in total, but did I taint it?
  How many are suffering and have suffered, because of me? Will those who have suffered... no, they'll still deviate, despite time... because they're me. My life isn't really necessary in the bigger picture, whether I live or die; I do this only for myself, consider all as an extension, knowing no true damage can be done, yet I gave birth to this illusion through... love. Is love ever a mistake, or is it an illusion? I... know, good or bad, or neither, it's my fault, but then what is the purpose of illusion? Was I deceived? In the end, she return, Sophia did, through admitting her fault... Was this a wrong, to make the other side right? But it's neither... isn't it? How much is dogma, how much is illusion, and why... can't I see beauty? Without it, my intuition is blinded, and I wander aimlessly, purposelessly... I could signify the turning point; the return... but... is that what's best?
I hate how I have this much power because of what I discovered. I hate it.
It's not about me, I know that, but I don't want this responsibility; I don't know how much longer I can handle it.

Maybe I should meditate, yet the storm in my subconscious continues to grow... will I be engulfed in consequence? I'm so frustrated, I want to cry... I feel like I'm forcing myself to live, despite suffering, for no reason... 


I told my friend I wasn't suicidal... I lied... Without beauty, despite this knowledge... I need help. Some sort of help. I'm back to where I was... knowing I need something, but not knowing what it is...


"Something I wasn't sure of, but I was in the middle of,
Something I forget now, but I've seen too little of..."


I'm way worse off right now then I want to accept. I know how close I am to the edge, and how little it takes to cause a domino effect... not much at this point. 

Too many things...

There are sometimes things I want to say; so many I doubt I have the capacity...

Just too much.

So much has changed since I last posted something, but I found a note today... I guess it was from a couple years ago, and it really made me think about things. I guess that's where I'll start.

"4-27-2010(Tuesday)

It's really coming down to the final run, isn't it? I'm not even sure what I'm going to do yet, or if I'm even going to make it...
 It's horrible, isn't it? I have so many things I should appreciate in my life, so many people who care and probably love me, but it can't change the way I feel... oh, the joys of being bi-polar.


So what am I going to do? I'm still running out of time with every second I sit here waiting... slipping away. So much anxiety about possibly making the "wrong" decision, like I carry the weight of the world, though logically I know it isn't the case. What I know is rarely what I feel. I'm so out of it


There's something I know I need, but I'm not sure what it is... Do I even belong here?
             "If you want something, just ask."
If only it were that simple... if only :( 


Clearly I'm pretty powerless right now, limited by my own pride and ignorance... my arrogance.


No, I'm not okay right now... not at all. And it won't stop the feeling. Nothing can stop this feeling... Alone and surrounded... Have I always been alone?


I have to see past this, I have to, or I'll just end up hurting myself again, worse probably...
~
(later that day)
It really doesn't hurt to die... I know this because I have almost died... it would have been so much easier... than this...
~
(later that day)
Meh... So begins the next event. I think I may feel slightly better, but still not very much, and I still would much rather go off on my own and be apart from everybody else."


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Looking at my drafts in my blog, that was they day before a suicide attempt. Then I remember Kenny, and the conversations we had the days before his suicide. I revisited them yesterday, knowing that I had to, even fearing what I'd find. What I learned is I did try everything I could... My humanity limited me. It was a period of time when I was very sick, and dealing with the symptoms of Lithium toxicity... I... hope those couple days leading up to his act; I hope... if I had been there, it wouldn't have made a difference. Based upon the way he was talking, it wouldn't have. Maybe that's part of why I was shut down too. I... was preparing. Distancing emotionally. That's what I always fall back on...
I remember now that I had recently been homeless, too. Huge stress on me, already... I was depressed myself.


I guess I'm kind of down today... I wonder if it's as bad as it was then. I can never seem to tell because I don't know how bad it is until I act on it, and I can't tell when I'm actually at the threshold between thinking and doing. I never really talk about it, anyways...


That note was from before I had ever been admitted to a psychiatric ward... I honestly did not believe I would make it to the age 18 back then. Even now, I don't know how long I'm gonna make it... It kind of feels like I'm living, waiting to die. Waiting for the pain to end. But what's the point? What's the difference between that and dying earlier? 


I help people, sure, but it's not like it changes me emotionally... It's not even because it feels good... It can be really tiring sometimes. Like what happened with Kenny.

Shortly after Kenny committed suicide, (when I was already dealing with suicidal ideation) I was date raped by somebody who was supposed to help me cope emotionally... Lovely.


So then, as if this is a shock, I tried to kill myself not long after... what WAS weird that it was subconscious. I took my sleep medication, then after it put me into a state where I wasn't consciously aware of what I was doing (like how ambien makes people sleep walk), I overdosed on two bottles of pills. I woke up and I was so confused... I didn't even know what happened. I didn't remember anything. I still don't. I just knew I was depressed... there were obvious risk factors, but to subconsciously want to kill yourself... subconsciously..... I think that gives insight into something pretty profound.

Hallelujah...

Things have gotten crazy. And when I say crazy, I mean by my standards...

That's saying a lot.


My health is getting worse, I've isolated myself, I'm unmedicated, my parents virtually hold me hostage in my own damn household. I can't even write about it anymore. Thinking about the whole situation is too exhausting... that's as far as I could get, I'm sorry.

It's been awhile; I've been up down and all around~

Now let me tell YOU how much being 51-50'd twice within the period of the same week is... not fun. Especially with the psychiotic lady down the hall you think is speaking intelligently until you learn over closer starts making animal noises, and the ex-con in the room next to you, just after being restraited decides to piss everywhere as a way of sticking it to the man. Or who knows, maybe he really just had to take a piss at a very inconvenient time? In any case, it was not to my benefit, and I heard all the nurses laughing and gossiping, and I just wanted to scream DON'T YOU FUCKING REALIZE SOME OF US ARE HERE AGAINST OUR WILL AND WE DON'T WANT TO PUT WITH THE NOISE OF YOUR PETTY GOSSIP ANY MORE THAN THE FOUL MOUTHED MAN WHO JUST PISSED HIMSELF IN THE NEXT ROOM. But I didn't. Very rarely do I speak my true opinion. I mainly just observe others', and if we share one, GREAT, I can bring up a topic and hopefully have more than a one-sided conversation, and that topic may lead to another, and as I get a feel for their temprament, the way they will generally respond to things based upon the strength of the preferences as indicated through verbal response and even microexpression, I can poke at carrying the conversation to a slightly deeper level. This part is the one where I really start pulling things out of the other person's psych they didn't remember were there or were trying to forget, but I remember usually, these are a essential ingredient in the total unraveling of a person.

Identifying, trust, dysruptive sense of self-worth, empathy, fears, memories(personal experiences), preferences(all kinds), philosophic mindset(receptive, dejecting, comparative, compatible, reflective, Echoic in certain principles) beliefs, adherence to internet compass...

These things are what flavor what we observe in personality and observe in a "person"... But what really is the person? Holos = oneness
perhaps this is an equal amount of void as matter, or a certain amount of matter is leaving from the void, then when the cycle retracts, it will replace probably anti-matter residing on the other side of the void, or blackhole. Like some of those perpetual moving objects... the universe expanding and contracting could be just like that... meaning there may be other sides to black holes... How many other sides... how many factual universe exactly the same ordeal... a motion that only in appearance, ceases, begins, and continues... but never truly began in the first place.

I personally believe any type of order and linear time are illusions...
Time= distance x rate
Okay, besides time being an order we artificially impose on society, it does seen to reprent the rate void could be dislocated within a period of time, using different types of stardized speedometers, timed automatedly, and obstacles. The obstacle (and all of its components) that go through the change are void, and maybe void is even the tiniest substance to exist, and maybe seed of all things as perfect distruction of molecule when there's no place to move as it vibrates would cause an explosion, or even the perception of implosion in the long term, as gravity returns everything to its due place. But what is Gravity? It is a "force" ?

2:09amAh. I try not to let it bother me. It usually doesn't.Report ·
2:09amI won't try to overdramatize the fact that does on occasionbut please know I care for you as a friendand if you ever need someone to talk to, or a shoulder to cry onI'll always try to be there to the best of my ability.Report 2:10amThanks.Report ·
2:11amI feel like some people think I'm addressing them personally when I say these things.Report ·
2:11am"Addressing them personally"?.Report ·
2:12amand in a way I am, but I'm not exclusive to one person, y'know... yeah, with the things I've told them and the promises I've made.Report ·
2:13amAh. Yeah, I know. I've seen at least one of your videos on Youtube. .Report ·
2:14amI still mean those words personally to youbrb.Report ·
2:14amk.Report ·
2:18amfor years I've been attempt to pursue a path of spiritual growth.Report ·
2:18amHow's it been working?.Report ·
2:19amwell, it's hard its ups and downs, but seeing somebody was in smiling, see purpose in life again, eyes-brimmed with hopeit's because of people respect othersand one side presents a more logical or sound point than their own mind has supplied them withthey have a paradigm shift and witch perspective to match the other one*switch.Report ·
2:22amOk, you lost me. Even at the first sentence, I was confused.Report ·
2:22amI've been having a lot of ups and downs with mood.Report ·
2:23amAfter that.Report · 2:23amBut seeing somebody(else) smiiling, watching them rescognize purpose in their life again, and seeing their eyes-brimming with hopethat gives me energyand more hopeand when people respect each other (after identifying with them) if two were debating a point, and one offered a thesis that was more valid and made sense to both of them, they would then procede to synthesize their belief systems, and in a way, it becomes survival of the fittest for the simplest, most sensical theories to be valuedisn't this like brainwashing people?.Report ·
2:27amWhat does the fourth large messa- Brainwashing people who choose to be brainwashed, in my opinion.Report ·
2:28amwhat were you going to ask before?.Report ·
2:28amWhat does the fourth large message have to do with the first three?.Report ·
2:30amit's the potential of what could happen when two people have been through two similar, difficult past experieces may act upon discovering they were only as alone as they were scared to reach out.Report ·
2:31amYes, but that has nothing to do with the first three things you said or I don't see it at least.Report ·
2:31amit's all what I want to cause.Report ·
2:32amOh. Ok. People need an instruction manual for talking to you. It can kinda difficult.Report ·
2:32amespecially when I'm almost certainly maniceven in my normally typing, it tends to come out irregulardoes this all bore you?.Report · 2:34amI don't connect with it. It's not boring me more than I already am, but I can't say I'm interested either.Report ·
2:35amI know it's illogical, but I feel sadness because you aren't emotionally invested as well as mentally engaged.Report ·
2:37amltm, sorry. I don't get emotional if possible. I don't like emotions for the most part.Report ·
2:38amI've thought that before toobefore I realize how useful it can be with memoryand that not dealing with the doesn't make them go away.Report ·
2:39amDoesn't change that I don't like them.Report ·
2:43amwhy don't you like them, anyways?.Report ·
2:44amBeing sad sucks, being angry makes it more likely that you'll do things you'll regret, and happiness is short-lived.Report ·
2:45amthat may have been true for you lifeso farbut there are two types of all of those thingsand their reason for being makes a difference too, because it could be a potential issue to resolve if there is a triggerwhat's your definition of "short-lived", anyways?.Report ·
2:47amDoesn't last long.

My head burns

fuck what everybody else says, I know the truth. all I do is hurt people. people look up to me, but for what? I'm so flawed, so horrible... all I do is fucking hurt people. And they try to act nice and suppress things because I'm so fragile, but I know my fate. I'll just end up alone, and in hell, and I'll stay there. why? because I condemn myself. I don't deserve love. I don't. I deserve pain. I deserve this, yet I'm so weak, I can't even take it. people think they're not good enough for me, well I'm not good enough for them. I'm not good enough for anything. and I can't take this pain. I can't... I can't fucking take it. I'm not strong, they were all wrong... so wrong... I'm a failure, and that's all I ever will be.

And when I finally understand

it is then that I will again awake to ignorance. When I am in total ignorance once more, it is then I will again awake to understanding.

ehhhh...

This is one of those moments where I really just sit and question how the hell I ended up in the position I did. Why? What is it that I feel I'm lacking that I need to keep seeking outside of myself? Why can't I just... accept the pain that's a part of living for me and get used to it? Why do I feel like that pain isn't worth living through, even for all of the people in my life, at times? Well soon enough I'll be bombarded by reasons, and I won't have anything to do with them besides dwell.

Bring on total sobriety.