I READ BACK OVER WHAT I POSTED EARLIER. I know what I post tends to include contradictionas. I notice them when I read it back. I'm always stuck between a rock and a hard place; not knowing whether to tell the truth and sound childish and solipsistic. Or to lie and be less dull. Or to lie and be funny. I'm not in the mood for comedy right now. And by lying I mean diversionary truth.
I'm glad my head is not focused. If it were, I would feel more negative than I do. You see it's the act of writing that focuses me, giving a misleading impression that how I write is how I think.
I always thought that what the dr called an illness was actually more of a coping mechanism. A few years ago I wanted a big place in this world. I wanted to be like Oprah Winfrey. Someone who is seen to have achieved great things.
Perhaps I can't focus myself because I shouldn't focus myself. Something I learned from psychedelic drugs that when my reality and concencus reality failed to agree, I shouldn't make sudden moves or drastic changes that might have untoward effects in the concencus world. I'm usually aware when the two realities are out of sync. The world's idea of wellness is being at one with the world. But I prefer my own reality to the world's coldness.
So I don't know whether the world is hounding me to death, or whether my own expectations and those of the world merely disagree. In many parts of the world people are happy merely to eat. If only life could be that happy. "If a man shall not work neither shall he eat," says the Bible. And I don't work.
If you've just tuned in and are wondering what I'm talking about, read the post below. I'm still not sure whether I should have posted it.
I don't know what to do, I don't know what to do.
Yes I do! My intention is to give up drugs of all kinds. I wish I could be washed clean of methadone too.
The best thing that happened today was that Tonkie Ears, the mouse, ran right up to me and then climbed into my shoe. He looked so cute peering into it. He vanished into it. Reappeared, then scuttled away. That was the best thing by far that happened yesterday.
LOOKING FOR LUIGI - Casa natale di Luigi Pirandello As a French and Italian undergraduate back in the late sixties and early seventies, one of the authors whose work was to h...
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