(no subject)
in a fit of confusion, lack of sleep, cold, hunger and under the influence i wrote this cryptic entry in my journal, it scared me so much i had to post it online.
...The last thing i want to do is inconvenience people. the first thing should be different, but alas it is not, and my life is incomplete because i have no ambition to complete it for myself. ...Higher thinking results in lower living, but i dont accuse myself of either of these dilemmas.
In the middle of this depression that haunts me, and a nagging indecisiveness that cripples me socially and fundamentally. in the midst of this mind wrenching turmoil and confusion that ensue after the drugs wear off and i can hear the voices again. the impending disaster and cataclysmic repercussions that follow its every movement waiting to strike leave me with no options but to stand still.
I just want to...to make me happy i have to disappoint someone else (nothing in life is without sacrifice). but after thinking 'group' for so long, it's hard to think 'individual', and specifically 'self'. have i been brainwashed? am i self medicating with submission?
burnt hair and lost thoughts fill
my vision, i can only guess at
their intentions or meanings.
losing focus on reality
creates a log in the mind
that only time can
heal, as well as
mend back to
normal, but what is normal?
and how does one become
such an unknown
quantity. i feel
like i have
lost a
small
portion of my life
to the ever present
danger of trust.
working a path
through the
thicket path that is my
mind and sub-conscious
i can only create
super-images
and half-conscious images
that form from a jumble
of lost, disoriented
and random thoughts.
...The last thing i want to do is inconvenience people. the first thing should be different, but alas it is not, and my life is incomplete because i have no ambition to complete it for myself. ...Higher thinking results in lower living, but i dont accuse myself of either of these dilemmas.
In the middle of this depression that haunts me, and a nagging indecisiveness that cripples me socially and fundamentally. in the midst of this mind wrenching turmoil and confusion that ensue after the drugs wear off and i can hear the voices again. the impending disaster and cataclysmic repercussions that follow its every movement waiting to strike leave me with no options but to stand still.
I just want to...to make me happy i have to disappoint someone else (nothing in life is without sacrifice). but after thinking 'group' for so long, it's hard to think 'individual', and specifically 'self'. have i been brainwashed? am i self medicating with submission?
burnt hair and lost thoughts fill
my vision, i can only guess at
their intentions or meanings.
losing focus on reality
creates a log in the mind
that only time can
heal, as well as
mend back to
normal, but what is normal?
and how does one become
such an unknown
quantity. i feel
like i have
lost a
small
portion of my life
to the ever present
danger of trust.
working a path
through the
thicket path that is my
mind and sub-conscious
i can only create
super-images
and half-conscious images
that form from a jumble
of lost, disoriented
and random thoughts.