everything felt steady till the next moment came

And life was flowing,

For a moment things were going my way

Then boom

Things flipped,

It was too much to quickly and yet not enough to confirm direction.

Sick of being a sideline act, called out by someone else's point of view

I am the star of my own.show and yet I claim no spotlight

I accept no.praise 

And yet turn in anger when I start to get some of what I give out

I turn on myself

Self sabotage.

But not in that blow everything up, movie style way

Just in small movements, gestures, thoughts

To diminish my own presence

I hate love

I hate it's big ass pull on you

Yet love is just the mechanism by which we, I, humans protect life

Love a product of wanting to maintain life

To which I.give a royal fuck you.

Fuck you whoever, whatever created a being to know that they know nothing

Is that not the torment of hell

Or just the privilege of a non suffering state.

If your not fighting to survive you have the time to pish posh about.

And what of this pish poshing.

Dissipating energy,

The point of a dying star,

Why is it not called an alive star?

And which would I call myself? 

Why call yourself neither as you know not whether you are the beginning or the end but from history...

From history,

From time,

You know you are a human who dies after using resources.

The only thing which is of your creation is your energy

And unfortunately,

Most of the time I don't even like mine.

Maybe what I give to others,

But with a view so distorted by self doubt,

It is with an fog of loathing in which I am surrounded.

There was a period of humour,

Where I brought the jazz to the jizz.

It is the artists that bring life to surroundings,

Yet my expression is stunted.

I am a curator of life at best.

Really I would definitely say I am explorer,

With the distinction that I have a misguided compass, double entendre?

No contradiction,

I seek what can't be found,

The why.

There is only belief and I no longer believe.

Yet I'm still a conditioned being and feel it.

I feel love still.

And so am torn.

In my hated love-life!

wish I was

So I have to live life knowing I'll be wishing 

Wishing cause I'm missing my inspiration

But remembering that when I wasn't medicated I couldn't use my inspiration cause I couldn't focus with cyclical thoughts

Solution

Find a couple of focused inspirations and pursue them

Answers

I really like coral, trees, abstract mathematical nature

Focussed I could explore documenting these

I could make patterns with them

If I'm a finder

An explorer then my focus would be discovering

How to discover?

Go searching the oceans

Teach Astra to snorkel

I think that's it, camping and snorkeling

Summer sorted!

It's beginning to feel a lot like christmas

Pain in every store

And there it is dwelling behind the facade
An unacceptance of life's joys and acceptance of the game I feel I'm playing
Let's face it though
It is the stories people want to hear, the game they want to play that wins
Not the face of an ugly truth that a sore mind bears
Say only the positive to keep on keeping on....successfully
And I'm so not good at playing the game
I wish my mum had never taught me the song:
"Nobody loves me, everybody hates me, think I'll go eat worms"
I must tell her to stop singing it to my daughter
What a terrible reminder of mine and another's pain and for her but frivolity!

Fading away in the world today takes everything you've got

So i spent 2 years see if i could live without clonzapam and a year and a half of that without but still on dothepin
2 years trying to see if I was strong enough to handle the thinking of societies way
2 years getting back a lost piece of human nervousness
2 years of feeling an overintensity of Rapido thoughts,
2 years of flickering and not maintaining a path because I felt the deviations and also thought with little long term focus
2 years to realise the tick tock of brain chemistry should not be heard
2 years of trying to handle my natural state of being
Can I not go with the flow
Or is my flow and my known pathway not congenial
I didn't find a pathway of thinking that I felt comfortable with
Never a comfortable person, am I more okay with being comfortable but never natural
Is my natural worth fighting for
I fought but I didn't want my natural, I couldn't handle it, too draining to do any longer
Now I'm not mentally tired anymore but I'm mentally bored
I think I was bored in the 2 years too though but there was always anxiety to avoid
It was so painful, definitely anxiety is the biggest pain I know and I know lonliness and heartbreak and failure but anxiety Trump's them all as it has no outlet
I think I created so much stomach acid I'm surprised I didn't pee poison
And yet at the moment I crave it
Not the anxiety but the feeling of whimsy
A whimsy feeling of going with your gut on something as simple as what to do with 10minutes
Because today I just put myself to bed or tv
Inspired not by ten minutes but more how to kill them
Another brick in the wall
I don't know if I ever was any different but I think I hoped I could be
You know my vision blurs and I have a sore neck
I could just be getting old
Maybe the days of whimsy are over
Life's whimsy feeling may you come to me now...I think I'll just say this and wait, learn the art of patience if nothing else.
Clock in an hour a day to doing that
Although tired I'm sure I'll clock out