time. My house is more of a mess for my attempts to clean it. Recently I lost an important piece of paper and tore the place apart searching for it. I still have no idea where my old passport has gone. I need that passport. Even though it's out of date, it's the only proper form of ID I have.I keep telling myself I ought to get off my arse and get a job. There was a programme on telly only the other night telling how all the sick and disabled are to be thrown off benefits and forced to work. What job could I possibly do? I'm qualified for nothing. I used to enjoy working with people but that would be very hard now. Ever since I went psycho I can't bear to be in crowds, can't handle looking into people's eyes. They make me too paranoid. Sometimes I feel the government is trying to hound me into suicide. Nothing makes me want to live more than knowing somebody wants me to die! Yeah: sheer bloodymindedness will see me through!
I tried to do some research on whether or not methadone works as a mood stabilizer. I suspect that in many people it does. Heroin certainly does on me and far more than methadone ever did. And this is where I ran into problems. With methadone not stabilizing me, my mood plummeted. During the worst period I couldn't even handle my fortnightly appointments at the methadone clinic without first dosing myself up on heroin. I couldn't handle the pain.
When I feel the way I do now, there's almost no subject that doesn't put me in an angry or negative mood. Even the Chinese language annoys me, because they simplified their characters after World War II. The whole joy of Asian langauges is that they are complicated. So simplified Chinese is a sheeer offence against nature! The Japanese simplified many of their characters too, but they strayed nowhere near the vulgar excesses of the Chinese who, for example, hacked horse from 馬 into 马. Whoever's responsible for that travesty should be shot between the eyes.
Anything that remotely impinges on politics annoys the living crap out of me. London annoys me because it is too small, underpopulated with irritating compromise-skyscrapers: tall enough to be a blot on the landscape and totally out of character with traditional London; nowhere near tall enough to be internationally impressive. Anything to do with addiction treatment annoys me beyond the pale because addicts should be offered injectable diamorphine prescription (or else shot dead). Something drastic should be done and methadone is just a toxic compromise. Blah blah blah everything's bad. It should all be done differently and the laxness, the mediocrity, the uncaringness of everyone in society appals me.
My only joy in life, apart from Hammy from Tales in the Riverbank, is the Japanese langauge. The people who write the textbooks should be shot between the eyes, because they teach you to read in European characters!
It took me MONTHS to figure out how Japanese sentences are actually composed in Japanese script (which is not entirely phonetic). By learning the script I now have a vocabulary far in excess of anything I ever knew in French or German at this stage. I know the names of 25 animals. I can talk about atomic bombs, volcanos and elements. Traditionally Japanese formed its technical vocabulary by compounding Chinese characters, so manifold new words can be formed just by slamming them together. Even there you have the issue of irritating homophonous words. Example the syllable shi し can be represented by no fewer than 56 Chinese characters: 市,詩,氏,詩,師,死,史 and so on. Sushi is written 寿司 but you could spell it out phonetically すし in hiragana or スシ in katakana. I can't explain why I find the Japanese langauge such a source of enduring fascination, but I do. Somedays I have found myself thinking: I wonder how you say this? And I wonder how you say that? Which is how I learned the words for bee 花蜂, wasp ワスプ and hornet 雀蜂. A hornet is onomatapoeically named a soo-zoom!
Well I haven't said anything new today have I? Here are the 2 links I dug out:
1: methadone treatment for bipolar disorder
2: methadone and morphine as antidepressants
I've gotta go. It's late: past 3 in the morning and I must keep up with the Joneses. Sorry the Anna Grace Youngs and compose my memoirs!
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