Highly Useful

Score: +3.5

That score might have been higher but my physical exhaustion is peaking. I had a solid 4 hours of packing and labeling today, and more tomorrow. I’m quite familiar with moving and I know the steps that need to be taken. The labor is the only obstacle.

Lots of connections are being made with relevant individuals, forwarding my career. I am more established and essential than ever before, and solidifying my status as a relevant individual in my local mental health community

Blog, right now, as I feel quite stated and exhausted, I have a sense of meaning that is hard to explain. I have an integral part to play in my community, city, county that I have yet to fully comprehend. I take steps forward, every day, to try and make a difference. This world is not right, and from whatever aspect of it that I can, I will try to change it.

I have been on and on about this. If anything, it’s evidence that I’m serious. I really do want to affect change, and I’m learning the things I’ll need to do to accomplish that. A lot of what I have left to give will be outwardly projected towards provoking action.

Tomorrow is another day of earning my worth. I demonstrate my dedication by continuing to be there, be present and helpful for an organization I believe in. One that has previously helped me immensely. I know we can bring something better to this county, and I’m determined to try.

I do, however, feel more alone than ever before. No one understands me. No one cares to know why. No one desires to know. The lack of personal interest may only be a temporary thing, subject to change. That concept is key, since I am a motivating force to help deviate from am unsuccessful norm to a productive alternative.

I wish.

There is nothing left for that. Those dreams are gone.

Time might be running out. Just do as much as can be done, and know in your heart, you did what was right. Die with honor.

The Knowing

There is this essential, invaluable defense against unjustified ridicule or other insane rantings from beyond the deflector shield, being unbiased knowledge of the truth of oneself. Truth is not subjective, but “interpreting” it is subject to almost nonsensical variance in meaning based on either preference, prejudice or agenda. If honesty is the policy of communication, looking out across the spectrum of delusional, insane responses to truth is both sobering and hilarious. The thesis being: prideful confidence allows for unquestioned defense from invasion of negativity from an external source.

I don’t let people’s lies and slander affect me in any significant way anymore (fuck did this take a long time to figure out). I have nothing to hide; I’ve endured the gauntlet of pain and the crucible of reconstruction. If there has been any poignant realization during all of this it is that I know, more clearly now than ever before, who I am. Coping with reality through delusion seems to be a rather popular means to and end in our “modern” society.

Without being too specific, recent events have inspired me to reiterate my stance on the truth and/or facts in general. I’m not afraid to be wrong, or of any of the actions of my past, because I am reconciled to the actual fate I have wrought, rather than the reality that makes me look good without having to do any of the legwork to make that possible. I tried to live like that, just believing what I wanted to be true, thinking people were someone they weren’t or could not ever hope to become. I eventually crashed, hard… and more than once too. No advancement of the self can be achieved if the construct of interpretation is inaccurate to what is actually going on (well, at least not for me). The only way to make a conception into reality is to do the work involved, but this is sadly impossible to do when the work is in another person’s head. All that remains is to look within.

My Blog archives are overloaded with evidence of my journey, even down to the most incremental daily steps. I have mood charts, spreadsheets and literally years of work put in to finding out who I am, who I want to be, and how I can honestly, proudly, get myself there. Months and years of introspection, analysis, argumentation, emotion, resolution and progress is what it took to advance my life away from believing in delusions and accepting the brutality and callousness of actual life on Earth. I don’t achieve any satisfaction justifying my inability to advance through the world by blaming others for my problems. Is that reassignment of responsibility easy? Fuck yes it is, like a fucking Snickers. However, it doesn’t move anything forward. It is often times the case that the people making the least progress are often the ones blaming as many others as they can for all that’s gone wrong. Our President being a fantastic example of this with a little whipped-cream white supremacy on top.

The point of this exercise is to establish a baseline interpretive guide to the ongoing success of new interactions. My attitude is twinged with what could easily be interpreted as arrogance, because there is some of that going on. When looking at two concepts of existence in such vastly irreconcilable contrast of value, I do take an opportunity to judge or label the one not worth its weight in flaming shit. It’s my choice who I choose to indulge, and deluded people are not going to take any more of my time. If anything, an individual’s desire to be “woke” from slumber is all that remains as mutual conversational territory.

From high above, it is easy enough to look down and gain perspective. It takes a lot of practice to do that. One should not see what one wants to see, but see what is actually there instead. It reveals the true darkness of the self, but also, a remarkable, beautiful confidence that radiates from within once all is accepted. This effusion continues to glow brighter as the fire is stoked with successes, adaptation, perseverance and trust.

This is the line that fosters my quasi-arrogance and sense of superiority, because (without any doubt), my way of doing things is better than what a significant sum of Americans have decided to embrace as a living mentality. Frankly, now that I understand myself, there are few things from the outside that attract much more attention that to be scoffed or outright laughed at. Think about how fucking miserable life would be if all the bad shit happening was being absorbed at intended potency? What a miserable fucking life. Instead, as the conductor of my own Locomotive, I have simply turned the screams of the roaring engine into a cacophony of giggles, and the outrage into hyperbolic bursts of cackling, wild laughter (I often extend all my fingers and hold my hands, palm up, in the air in front of my head as I laugh).

What an empowering thing to write. I am glad I am who I am now, and for all that my mistakes have taught me.

 

I heard the boom.

 

 

Pulse

Score: 0

Hi there. I know I haven’t been consistent as I hoped in the documentation department. To be frank, I’ve suffered of late with the symptoms of depression, subsequently, feeling less inclined to open up and make with the words. I have also been on a streak of having to jump up and down to get noticed or listened to about how I’m feeling, and even at that, there has been marked failure. No one really seems interested in me in what is left of my circle, or anything I’m doing for that matter. My enthusiasm for forward progress has been entirely self-generated.

I feel stagnant the last few days. I also have taken note of that and executed some structural action to improve. I have dedicated a slot to creativity on Wednesdays, in which I will attempt to forward the progress of my novel. I have a temporary goal of achieving the lofty benchmark of 30,000 steps in a single day at the end of the week. I have been close before, but never above 27,000. This weekend I have volunteered to represent NAMI Sacramento at the Pride Parade and festival downtown on Sunday. Its a good opportunity to meet people and spread the gospel of mental health awareness.

I’m isolating. My interests are becoming vastly external, and devoted to the cause of doing “good” for society. My moral compass points towards justice, and my actions speak to that truth. What I thought would be a very inspiring and radiant time of my life has actually created a sort of unprecedented solitude and near-universal interpretive disinterest. Never has my “popularity” been less, and my overall relevance has been diminished to just what I believe it is. I still have a great deal of pride in myself… maybe this is folly since it seems the resounding opinion is to the contrary.

Honestly then head-voice, ask yourself: “how does one step forward of all is lost?” Basically, you don’t. I’ve been to that place. It is misery, upon torment and pain. The spiral keeps going down forever. The only way is out. The direction is up. is it hard? Yes, surely, and with the obstacles there will be many… but an end to the ongoing cycle of torment with no hope of deviation. I, head-voice of doubt, hold on to that. It is my everything. I don’t want to be a useless pile of symptomatic protoplasm. I have a mind, a perspective, and something to offer this world still. I have stared into the darkness and let myself fall. I have been to that place and come back. There is a reason for that.

I won’t give up because I’m more stubborn than all these people around me who could care less what I’m up to, or any new people I meet who try to resist my meteoric trajectory. I’m my own motivator, my own counselor. I don’t need anyone else in this life but myself, and neither should anyone out there who has half a brain. I have been burned enough times to not touch the “others oven.” I will not be deterred, and I will push forward. If there is ever to be stability and completeness in my life, it begins with a dedication to the self that is unwavering. I have begun to realize the value of constructing a massive fortress over time. Trials add bricks, which build walls higher, and thicker. Soon, there is no need for others, when all that is needed lies within a fortification that will not be penetrated or besieged.

Is it lonely? Yes head-voice, it is lonely… you and I both know that. We have been through this point many times, and I did listen to you when we tried to recreate some spark from the past. Now, however, head-voice, I am not listening to you anymore. I am hurt enough to stop trying, and that will be the end of your complaining. You and I can plainly see the facts. Moaning is not going to help convince me that siding with you is a good idea… we’re moving on and ending this post, and if you don’t stop all that fuss I’m sending you right back to your room and closing the door.

..

zzzzzzzzzzzzztttt

 

..

 

..

 

..

 

zzt

.

.

.

AAAAHHHH!!!!

.

.

-{===|]

 

 

 

 

 

Detracitives

Depressed

Inconsistent

Scarred

Unattractive

Overweight

Infected

Diseased

Imbalanced

Stubborn

Frustrating

Perplexing

Uninteresting

Abandoned

Reprehensible

Regretful

Tainted

Vexing

Irritating

Saddening

Undesirable

Incomprehensible

Emotional Prose

Then, inching towards a sullen state, a dark and vast abyss opens, consuming the road ahead, plunging all into an empty, fathomless chasm. Saddened yet aware, the scream of descent echoes off the distant walls, reminding. Into the frigid air of breathless dark, penetrating chill advances on once supple flesh. A twirling, tumbling decay like so many insects ensnared in webs to be feasted upon later, the tumult goes on. Unrecognized, unappreciated and inherently deluded, the spiral plummets to new, frigid depths of denial. With only the bottom of suffering to relate, the empty hiss disposes, loathes, resents only. A predator of wrongdoing in the deepest recesses of regret disembowels, eviscerates and consumes. Leaving only a smattering of resin, the digested supplicant is no more. Faded hopes nothing more than a bloody smear on the forgotten cave wall where no one can see.

Drowned

Sparkling–

Just beyond fingers,

Reach,

Up to a sky gone down,

Wide-eyed with the impending–

Choking moments,

Being the hopeless last.

Suffering in gulping–

Swallowing breaths,

Engorged in death,

Drifting further–

Diminishing reaches,

Savior unknown.

Impacting rest,

Squeezed of chance–

Settle,

To be slowly devoured,

As nothing remains.

Sleep ‘n’ Bud

I woke up this morning acutely depressed, and spiraling in with a chaining frustration that was dragging me down before I even had a chance to get started. I made myself a cup of coffee and took a couple hits. This seemed to take the sharpness out of the sadness I was feeling almost immediately. Since then, I’ve afforded myself a few moments of introspection. I know now that I must start being more vigilant against my depression as I am relying simply on the Buproprion to keep me afloat in the happy juice department.

It is on me to regulate this, healthily. Allowing time to mourn rejection is expected, but sliding down the slope is not. I need to monitor and address as symptoms arise. I need to be careful not to over invest or expect the unreasonable. Shattered hopes can cause a decent farther into the pit than is logically necessary. There’s no ticking time bomb on my life, despite the desired alacrity. There is still plenty of opportunity to be had out there, especially with persistence.

I’m feeling alright now, and I’ve already started putting in some of the work applying for jobs this morning. Still chiseling away at my David, but far from complete. Zoom out that telephoto and just relax. Take positive steps forward, every day, and eventually, I’m going to get where I’m going. Patience is one of those lessons I still have to learn this go-round the consciousness stick. I’m not sure at all what I’m referring to there… It just kinda came out that way and I didn’t redact.