i_am_softly_losing_my_mind pj going going gone it's hard to say if it cleared. combo of stone and soft stone. type it away. type it away typae it away type it away type it away type it away tiypee tiawya tityepapdaljdlf typee it away type it away type it away type ty ayw ever feel like there's nothing left, it's so unreachable, the blankets are cold, the empire is cold, it's not really lost but residing somewhere out of reach, out of reach groggy toxic groggy toxic sliding sliding sliding sliding sliding sliding into the extra prepared slime. i don't know how much longer i can take this. i can't hear my future. there are no recipes left. cloudy cloudy clouds. clouds everywhere. groggy toxic clouds. maintain it seems easy from where you're sitting, he isn't at all fucking lost, he's in control of his nightmare ship, he knows what to do. folks i'm slipping. there's nothing left to really live for i believe right now. no no no no no that's not a plea. i'll manage. somehow. how?? how?? how?? where do i go from here? wasn't it easy to just breathe and remember that i'm alive and that's all that mattered? didn't that happen once or a hundred times? cloudy cloud cold cloud. i want to tell everyone about myself. i want to know you. mum mute silencio you have ears i have many fears. i fear the knife and the bottle and the tub and the heights. never no way can manage. i pull through. the little ship that could. the steel pretzel of gnawlessness. is this yelping helping? heaping tablespoons. not like i'm gonna die when i'm 27 i know it not. like all the great rockstars. stars star cold cloud. 021011 ... blue star blathering and debating and advocating. my brain's coming out in pieces. sort of like my hair. it's an interesting feeling. like I'm donating small amounts of each sector of my brain every day to the causes of science and sadism. I wonder what will happen when there's none left? 021012 ... frAnk where do we go from here? what have we left behind? what do we bring with us? what do we find waiting for us? these are the questions, written originally in french, on the cover of the surprise box that was delivered to puppertwinkle at their recreated home on the bianca strada. there is no key and lock. there is no twine, ribbon, or filament tape that is keeping it fast. just a determinedly-painted wooden lid and two brass, ornate hinges to swing it up. it even creaked, like a cricket, when anyone lifted it. "it's adorable," the diminutive french maid offered. each day everyone has one waiting for them on their doorstep of their soul. this is basic kemulyan legend. foundational. from the womb, education begins. revolution commences. early childhood gleefully proceeds, singing the hundred songs along the blue sea, cry of gulls, nutrition center love affairs. and then one day the blossom falls off like a girl leaping from the cliff's edge. the swelling. the formation of fruit, the tiny rosebud marking the borders of creamy, white goodness. inside this box, i will find the answers of a thousand years, past my parents, grandparents, thier family and twisting, turning, until they are as small as you at the moment of your conception. i am not afraid to open it. i am unafraid. brave. courageous. strong. a decent fighter. defender. i am quite excited. adventure is the journey you make alone until others come to have fun with you. 021012 ... morphine. hrm? my mind is turning to mush 021211 ... Rhin shadowclowns. trolls. bluebloods. youareeveryone. youliveeverywhere. youlivenowhere. RHINisnotthere. iamnothere. ithurtstobreathe. IShouldJUSTgetofftheFUCKINGbus. whydidyoufuckingdoit? whydoyouhurtme? whydoyouplayWITHme? pleasetellmewhY. ithinkthatideservetOknowyoUallof you. itRustedyou. ...butmyHEADhurtsnow. imtiredofwriting. blatheblatheblathe. imaprincess. whyshouldistopnoworever? whogivesafuck. bluebloodsbleedblueblood. shadowclownsstrollintrolltowns. loveher. whisper. whisper. whisper. thoughts. voices. laughter. ultimate weapons. strike at me. RHIN do that. do this. i like it. i like sex. i like fruit. ilikesexonfruit. i'm hiding. lots of places to hide. WILLyousendmeaclue? shameonme. ...andshameonyou! the real me. i'mnot coming back! standing onthe edge. always onthe edge. whatifyoujustpushed?! i wouldn't tell! i might FALL. mytoesarecurled. listen. whisper.whisper.whisper DO you think that I can fly? Do you think that I can fly? Do you think that I can fly? Do YOU think that I can fly? Do you think that I can fly? Do you THINK that I can fly? Do you think that I can fly? Do you think THAT I can fly? Do you think that I can fly? Do you think that I can fly? Do you think that I CAN fly? Do you think that I can fly? Do you think that I can FLY? Do you think that I can fly? Do you think that I can fly? Do you think that I can fly ylf can I taht kniht uoy oD ylf nac I taht kniht uoy oD ylf nac I taht kniht uoy oD Do Do you Do you think Do you think that Do you think that I Do you think that I can Do you think that I can fly DO YOU THINK THAT I CAN FUCKING FLY?! 021217 ... p2 is_it_me or is nothing making sense anymore? 021217 ... ? if insanity made sense, then it would not exist. 021217 ... girlnamedlover sometimes is happens quietly. not anymore. I just want to scream. 021218 ... rubydee yet i continue to scream as loud as i can 050622 ... 5260 Well, I mean I thought perhaps that there was a moment when I would wither, when sanity and reality as I know it would become completly obliterated. This pointless seige upon the ramparts of my soul and the havoc and bedlam bludgeoning the concrete bulwark I have erected against the terrors they have marshalled against my mind, has had me almost making an open mouthed kiss to irrevocable madness. It is like a body worn down by a tenacious illness suddenly rallying back, some the immune system and the damaged tissue begins to regenerate. Sure slowly, sure. I guess the good Lord was merciful, is merciful and creates in me the presence of mind to surrender, to surrender all of my flailing and railing and importunations for peace and the scalding brine of my moral indignation which I'd hurl at them in the apoplectic seizures of the wanton flesh of my ego. Yes ego. I read something in Siddhartha a few years back that feeds me now even in these trying times. So I was talking about the act of surrendering to a coping mechanism that presents itself as a Divine or Higher being. This construction is the fulcrum upon which millions of people have empowered themselves to persever, is it mysticism? Perhaps. But my belief in this Higher Power allows me to take solace, to construct an image of "he/She" extending thier arms and taking the whieght of my woes off of me, because the accumulated whieght day by serves to burden the mind, it serves to pull the mind down by gradations in to chaos and delrium of desolation and despair. So you know I invoke a simple mantra, I repeat it over and over and slowly it changes my brain chemistry and at least to me in this subjective worshipful state I experience the release of all my torment into the arms of my God, into His weeping heart I lay my burdens down. The marauder of mens sanity and souls, the wolves, the sociopathic narcissists believe that if they transmit the conviction of thier hate, and desolation in the guise of that hate that it will constitute some kind of justification or substantiation for the horrible things they are doing and saying. They believe that it will have the effect of dislodging the certainty of the persecuted moral position, it will drown out his hearts prayers to his gods, that fear will supplant defiance and faith and humble abject worship. There is nothing more emphatic than hate except for maybe unconditional love but in the short term, one great ejaculation of hate is unquestionably emphatic. It can creep into the deepest darkest reaches of the imagination and tear of infest the glittering palaces, the respite you construct out of your minds eye with something that leaves you walking around speaking in an incoherent syntax, groping at the air. But in this thing, in this trail of my soul it will not be my ego, or my books that will save my - it will be the emptying out of everything I am and know to let go and surrender to that wich is beyond me and be filled, be filled with the presence of my construct of God. I do this so that the mind, my mind is clear so that I do not react at all, rashly or otherwise. So that my unperturbed silence merely reflects thier evil directly back at them. Do you see? What you hate is really yourself. You are trying to fill yourself with the pain you create in others but do you not hear the wailing of your very own heart? Let it....GO. You are weary, you have been carrying this whieght these boulders inside of you far too lond and it has taken a terrible toll upon you. Be well enemy and friend. 050623 ... Doar well said oE. 050623 ... 19131 you're welcome Doar. 050623 ... . . 070409 ... marked . 070409 ... but_i_am_hardly_losing_my_heart 070409 ... unhinged but soon things will start breaking loudly 070409 what's it to you? who go blather from