Like a sentence to death I've got no options left...
I've got nothing to show now
I'm down on the ground
I've got seconds to live
And you can't go now...
I'm used to having a shadow at my left shoulder.
When it's late at night and I'm walking home, wondering why I'm bothering - wondering where it is I should actually be and with no damn idea... When I've stepped away from friends and disappeared, stalking off on well-heeled boots without a word because my head's screwed and I don't know what to say that I won't regret... When I wake up in the morning and go without saying 'goodbye' or 'I love you' because I don't know why I'm there or why I'm wanted and know I have to leave but not the reason...
As the grey of the pavement and the black of the tarmac slip away under my feet, Hayes is at my shoulder - one step behind and one to the left. And I can bitch at him, or scowl, swear or cry, knowing that he'll walk me to my destination and forgive me my trespasses because he can. The downside to this arrangement is of course that one garners strange looks at train stations and the like when one is attempting to have a conversation with Mr Murphy.
It is a strange surprise when walking and feeling the familiar shadow at your back, the attention of a pair of grey eyes upon you, to discover that in this instance your companion is flesh and blood and not just a fiction.
Still, it makes having muted conversations at train stations much easier and less likely to get one committed.
Oh, and I did actually try rice-crispies and chilli con carnie. It was all Anysbryd's fault. When I go strange he tends to encourage me instead of telling me to stop talking rubbish. Weirdly, rice-crispies are really good in that dish, they make it all crunchy. (Heh - fear my dinner parties.) Not sure anything like cornflakes would work though, think they'd be icky.
Went to the doctor. Tried to fit as much useful information into as short an amount of time as possible without using Ravenisms such as talking about my different coloured and behaviorally challenged neurons.
Doctor asked if I wanted to take sertraline again. I said 'blah!'. She said in that case the choice was basically fluoxetine or a drug from 'the next category' which had 'duel efficiency' or somesuch if prozac was not desirable or successful. (Is it just me or does this 'next category' thing sound kinda scary and hard core?)
Y'know fluoxetine comes in dark green blister packs and looks really scanky. But the pills themselves are turquoise and dark lilac which is prettier and less off-putting than it sounds... gods. I'm discussing whether my meds look pretty. Thoth help me... Heh. The first side effect listed in the packet is 'weight loss'. But - this is the good one - the second is 'anorexia'. *sniggers* That really shouldn't amuse me, should it? Ah well. So far I've felt mildly stoned after taking one (wtf?) and haven't been ill or anything (yey!).
Work tomorrow - with Mark - bleh =P
Drink with Ketch this evening.
Random drawings and attempting to sort my life out every other time inbetween.
Cause love, like an invisible bullet has shot me down
And I'm bleeding - yeah, I'm bleeding
And if you go, furious angels will bring you back to me...
I'm down on the ground
I've got seconds to live
And you can't go now...
I'm used to having a shadow at my left shoulder.
When it's late at night and I'm walking home, wondering why I'm bothering - wondering where it is I should actually be and with no damn idea... When I've stepped away from friends and disappeared, stalking off on well-heeled boots without a word because my head's screwed and I don't know what to say that I won't regret... When I wake up in the morning and go without saying 'goodbye' or 'I love you' because I don't know why I'm there or why I'm wanted and know I have to leave but not the reason...
As the grey of the pavement and the black of the tarmac slip away under my feet, Hayes is at my shoulder - one step behind and one to the left. And I can bitch at him, or scowl, swear or cry, knowing that he'll walk me to my destination and forgive me my trespasses because he can. The downside to this arrangement is of course that one garners strange looks at train stations and the like when one is attempting to have a conversation with Mr Murphy.
It is a strange surprise when walking and feeling the familiar shadow at your back, the attention of a pair of grey eyes upon you, to discover that in this instance your companion is flesh and blood and not just a fiction.
Still, it makes having muted conversations at train stations much easier and less likely to get one committed.
Oh, and I did actually try rice-crispies and chilli con carnie. It was all Anysbryd's fault. When I go strange he tends to encourage me instead of telling me to stop talking rubbish. Weirdly, rice-crispies are really good in that dish, they make it all crunchy. (Heh - fear my dinner parties.) Not sure anything like cornflakes would work though, think they'd be icky.
Went to the doctor. Tried to fit as much useful information into as short an amount of time as possible without using Ravenisms such as talking about my different coloured and behaviorally challenged neurons.
Doctor asked if I wanted to take sertraline again. I said 'blah!'. She said in that case the choice was basically fluoxetine or a drug from 'the next category' which had 'duel efficiency' or somesuch if prozac was not desirable or successful. (Is it just me or does this 'next category' thing sound kinda scary and hard core?)
Y'know fluoxetine comes in dark green blister packs and looks really scanky. But the pills themselves are turquoise and dark lilac which is prettier and less off-putting than it sounds... gods. I'm discussing whether my meds look pretty. Thoth help me... Heh. The first side effect listed in the packet is 'weight loss'. But - this is the good one - the second is 'anorexia'. *sniggers* That really shouldn't amuse me, should it? Ah well. So far I've felt mildly stoned after taking one (wtf?) and haven't been ill or anything (yey!).
Work tomorrow - with Mark - bleh =P
Drink with Ketch this evening.
Random drawings and attempting to sort my life out every other time inbetween.
Cause love, like an invisible bullet has shot me down
And I'm bleeding - yeah, I'm bleeding
And if you go, furious angels will bring you back to me...