Silence

Finally attached the camera and what do you know, it's been a while since that fuck has shown up nearby. Cat's sick. Taking him to the vet this week.

under the sun of satan

Money is coming in more fluidly and faster. I think Karin might be sick, I'll take him to the vet soon. I really need to find the strength to be more expressive here. I'm not sure what I set out to do with this. Sure I wanted to make a journal and keep track of my mood fluctuating but I've just been in automatic. Life is better as a drone.

Such cuteness

fuck it

Spring rain

It hasn't rained. Maybe it did. Who knows? Signed up to be certified and volunteer as a crisis counselor. Helping people has helped me in a way find a purpose. If I can't save myself then maybe I can save someone else. That's how I'll find salvation in the end.

I mounted a camera and downloaded an app to take a picture of that fucker and get notified on my phone.

Refills on Wednesday. My cat keeps getting bigger. Had another dream about her last night.

what the fuck

The weirdo from a bunch of nights ago is calling me again. The last time this happened I went outside and there was no one there. I live near a place infamous for drug dealings and what not and most of those people know me from high school so I'm assuming it's a tweaker. I'm gonna try to set up some way to take a photo of him or something.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charcoal-burning_suicide

Should be easy, right?

I know you've been reading. I need you to save me and give me that last push I need to go over the edge.

There is a pain - so utter -
It swallows substance up -
Then covers the Abyss with Trance -
So Memory can step
Around - across - upon it -
As One within a Swoon -
Goes safely - where an open eye -
Would drop Him - Bone by Bone -

- Emily Dickinson

Here is no why..

Reading these past entries worry me. I have no memory of them. Been forgetting my broken heart. Someone learned to mend it back together. All those past voices lacking self-awareness will burn though they don't see it yet. Something improbable but not dry.

lo-fi

I'm slowly regaining the desire to listen to music without getting flashbacks or freaking out. They were right when they said that I'd be back to normal, to just give things time. I don't agree. I'm far from the person I used to be -


I'll return to that thought later.




There's someone outside calling my name. It's 1:09 am.

taking time

Just a quick diddly: Don't mind the time stamps any of the entries because they are all wrong.

No one will read any of this anyway. Now that the purpose of all of this is cleared (mind the blog's title) I can proceed.

Looks like shit right?

There is something I find really amusing of having the blog look this cheap. It's almost as bad as a myspace.

In a few hours I start the army paperwork, hopefully I can get better benefits out of it. So far been emotionally stable since I woke up. I'm trying not to crack at it too much or risk relapsing into the mess I was yesterday.




"Chi dara fine al gran dolore? L'ore."

I have to find better things to write about.

John Clare in hiding

"John Clare frequently rationalizes his need to hide with that of the wild creatures. ‘Nightingales are very jealous of intrusions and their songs are hymns to privacy’. He often sees himself like ‘the time-killing shepherd boys whose summer homes are ever out of doors’ and he celebrates their workaday (and work a night) freedom in two splendid poems. He likes the idea that ‘The pewits are hid from all sight but the all seeing sun’ and that the martin cat ‘hides in lonely shade / Where prints of human foot is scarcely made’, that the hedgehog hides beneath the rotting hedge, and that ‘each nibbling hare / Struts quick as fear and seeks its hidden lair’. Though the robin seems to be fond of company and the haunts of men, and makes no secret of its dwelling. Yet when he writes ‘The Robin’s Nest’ he makes it a poem to solitude. Helpston, slogging away on the land, finds him time wasting and problematical. Often in village terms he is a skiver. Even when sharing its normal toil."   -   http://johnclareessays.blogspot.com/p/john-clare-in-hiding.html

Better late than never...

Here's to hoping that through the process of writing I can enact healing. I'm never that lucky. It is already dark outside I wish it was midnight already.

I'm haunted.

This morbid pain that has been creeping up on me since  last year has grown to the point of physical abuse behind closed doors. I've been sober for a long time now (is 7 months long?) though others would not agree. I'm afraid of my phone ringing, I'm afraid of what I might see in the caller ID...