BMC. Groovy Maaannn.

I've been doing a little research because I've been experiencing quite frequent psychotic episodes. No. That is not an exaggeration. I am afraid of going crazy. And often times it really feels like I am going to lose it. IT being my mind.

Chances are I might have a personality disorder. Borderline Personality Disorder. Ey, what the fuck? I have all the symptoms. Every last one of them to the tee.
I could have some kind of dissociation. But... That's not much of a diagnosis. Dissociation is the plain description of what I experience when I episode.

I may have Bipolar II Disorder or Schizoaffective Disorder. But that really does seem like a dive into the deep end. I wouldn't know though. I don't have a PhD. Seems like the degree was wasted on my therapist. Who fails to classify my symptoms and attributes them all to my previous use of LSD.

Now, if you've done LSD no more than a handful of times... Would you call yourself permafried? I can't honestly say it makes any logical sense. These aren't fucking flashbacks. I don't feel a tinge of euphoria or experience an intensity in perception of colors. Fucking ey. My concept of reality is completely obliterated! It feels like my body is eviscerated! Fucking damnit. Don't doctors know ANYTHING these days? Shit. I've done enough acid to know what a goddamn flashback is. And I promise you... I haven't done enough CID for it to fuck me up THIS bad.

Now. Here's what's happening. The doc wants to throw me in the BMC for approximately eight weeks. Not because of what I've told him as far as my episodes go. But because of a dependency issue. Which in my opinion... Is quite a stupid reason to throw me in since I detoxed 5 weeks ago and have zero access to drugs. Plus, he is also fearing for my life. Says I may be suicidal. What the fuck? I haven't even attempted suicide. Not once.

Maybe once. TWO FUCKING YEARS AGO. I haven't even tried lately... Not concsiously anyway... Just when I'm having these so called "flashbacks." I just want the trippiness to stop. I want to stop feeling like I'm losing my mind.

Why can't he just give me meds and be on with his life? I'll go crazy in a psychward for sure. I'm not even suicidal! I haven't thought about drugs in weeks. I just want to stop thinking! Fucking damnit. Fuck this. What a stupid reality we live in. No wonder my mind tries so hard to pull me out of it.

I am a Subliminal Message

People don't believe me when I tell them it feels like I'm going crazy. But, when I bring up the things I see and hear and think... I know it doesn't make sense. It doesn't make sense when I hear it... But before it leaves my mouth it is this giant vortex that reverberates over and over in my head.

It often feels like everyone around me is tripping on acid. And it scares me to think like that because I realize no one is actually in an altered state of mind. It's just me. It's just my imagination. So then, does that mean that I am the one on acid? But I'm not. And if I'm not on any substance... Then why do I think this way? Why do I see and hear these things?

I'm blinded. I can't see straight. Everyone else is lost in their failed attempt at reality. And me? Where am I? I'm not here with them. And no one can see it. No one can save me. No one can save me from myself.

I am trapped. My mind has eviscerated my body... Leaving me only the escence of thought. I breathe in and exhale my recylced muse. And there is no escape. This is what I know and what I am. I am evanescent. I am a subliminal message.

I am not here. Not with you or anyone else. I seek connectedness, but I am completely and totally alone. For I am the subliminal message that you only think you see. You don't. You can't even hear me. For I am the backwards rhyme in your favorite song and the small print revitalized in the fibers of your television. Can you hear me now? No. You can't. It is impossible. And you can't save me.

Only death can free me from this prison. Only death.

Sobriety

I am a hypocrite. I'm begging you to stop. Please don't trap yourself the way I have trapped myself.

But you're not doing any worse than I am. You just don't have the will to stop. And how can I show you how close to the edge you are? How can I prove that this isn't what you need?

I need you to see how wonderful you are. I need you to see your potential. I need you to know you have too much to offer to be risking it like this. I need you to see that I love you too much. I'm scared to lose you.

And though I was forced to stop due to circumstance... Part of it was for you. Part of it was because I didn't want to see you cry for me anymore. Part of it was because I wanted to show you that I care. Part of it was because I didn't want to be a hypocrite anymore. I knew that if I wanted you to quit... I had to do the same.

Please. Don't become part of the trap. Don't lend yourself to this superficial high. Don't let yourself fall. You are digging yourself a grave you won't be able to climb out of.

"Something About Us."

You ever get the feeling that you only want something because you can't have it? I do.

Not to sound conceited or pompous... But I really can have anyone I want. All I have to do is win them over with my words and confidence. People really like confidence, just because they're all so insecure they admire it in other people.

And because of this, I knowingly manipulate people and gain their admiration. I toy with their emotions and lead them on. Why? Perhaps because I like to bring out the passion in others. Perhaps because I'm sadistic. Or because... Well... Who doesn't like that kind of attention?

I do it because I can. I do it because I can't make any profound connections unless people are seeking more than friendship from me. I do it because I'm alone and because people lend themselves to me and allow me to use them in this manner. I do it because people can't accept the fact that love is not ALWAYS an option. I do it because I'm a terrible person.

But. There is ONE person I can't have. Not because I haven't gained their admiration or won them over with my charm... But because their heart already belongs to someone else.

Do you believe it is possible to love two people at once?

I did all the work. "And from your lips [ I ] drew the hallelujah."

I've heard many a sweet word from you. The kind that indicate I matter as much as he does. The kind that tease and taunt and lead me to believe that I matter more. That I'm at par.

You've said, "Thank you for being you."
You've said, "I worry about you too much. I care about you too much. I love you too much."
You've said that you can make me happy and that you wish you'd met me sooner, that you wish things were different.

But they can't be. Everything happens for a reason. I came into your life this late... Because we weren't meant to be. You have what you were looking for and I just added a little spice. I was just a crush... We both just got a little carried away.

I only want you because I can't have you. And you only want me because you can't have me.
I manipulated you. I made you want me.

But everything happens for a reason. And here we are. I'm going to have to learn to fall out of love with you... And you will have to learn to go on with your life the way it is. You will learn to be satisfied with what you have. Why would you want to change anything about your current relationship... When there's nothing wrong with it? You were only lead a stray temporarily. You were manipulated. It's not your fault.

"It may not be the right time. I may not be the right one. But there's something about us I have to say. Because there's something between us anyway."
-Daft Punk

Lighter to Lighter

I live from ligher to lighter.
From foil to foil.
Pen to pen.
Straw to straw.
I don't need food to survive,
I need a cigarette to pull me through.
From one day to the next.
Day in, day out.

I reside in a place where;
One person has food,
And we all have food.
If one person has cigarettes;
We all have them.
If one person falls;
We all fall.
And we fall hard.
So hard...
We rot if we can't get up.

Some of us never do get up.
So we crawl.
We crawl so low...
Sometimes we lay.
And we lay for hours.

We don't hit rock bottom.
We ARE rock bottom.

I'm fighting a losing battle.
In fact, I AM the losing battle.
Sanity is gone.
My stomach is in a bowl.
The mirror doesn't lie.
My eyes are aged and dull.

I am corrupted.
I am tainted.
I hug hollow shells
And I kiss empty pens.
I lust for lust
And fuck because I can.

I am the losing battle
There is no victory.
There never will be.
Life is a losing battle.
And sadly, I'm here to stay.

But it's okay.
At least I have my lighter.
At least I have foil.
At least I have a cigarette...
To carry me through tomorrow.

At the Hands of Heathen Gods

They're going to tell me to sit and look pretty. "Keep your mouth shut and look innocent," my attorney will say to me as I enter the court house. And I will be forced to fight for a lesser punishment than what I truly deserve.

I want capital punishment. I want brutality. I pray to be hanged or burned at the stake. I don't want to live. But I wouldn't go as far as killing myself, though I thought of it many times. I simply take life for granted, though I try to the best of my abilities not to do so.

But honestly; who goes through life--day in, day out--appreciating every single moment of breath and soul within them? I can't do that. In fact, I feel as though my destiny is to die young. Not because I don't want to live, but because death is meaning. Death is a part of the cycle. And once I have died, perhaps what's left of me, my energy or essence or soul... Perhaps it can touch the lives of others, unifying us, connecting us.

But no. Death will not come to me so soon. My doctor tells me I am healthy and strong. The blood work came out clean. And I have years to go before I stem into the cancerous growth that I am meant to be. What am I saying? I'm already a cancerous growth. I am a parasite, leeching upon the host that is humanity and the people I love so dearly.

And this is why I am doomed. This is why I MUST die young.

I'm going to be told to sit pretty and look innocent and fight a losing battle. I'm going to lie and swallow my own deceit like candy, while the heathen gods and their Zeus judge me, and point their fingers. And why must I fight? I've already lost. But I have no path, no choice, no will. I belong to this system, this country, this order. My law, my emotions, my mind... They mean nothing. They are none existent. I have no say.

Life is in the hands of the heathen gods... And my judgment day is in the month of February.
They don't care to know where I've been. What I've done. What I've seen. What I feel. What I think. Everything happens for a reason and they don't even know that. Yet, they hold my future, my life in their hands.

I am a prisoner. I am a slave. I am trapped without escape. But it was this trap that brought me here in the first place. I am caught in the vicious current of life and I am drowning. I can't escape the cycle. It has me chained by the feet.

I only have faith in my inhalations. I can only have faith in the fact that I will exhale every breath I draw. I trust that I will wake up tomorrow morning. And I trust that I will not die when I walk out the door of my house. But this is all I can believe, because it is possible. Because I feel it. I see it. I hear it.

Uncertainty will be the assassin of my spirit. Already I can feel it; subtly withering away.

Hope is dead.