That float in the atmosphere as they overfill in the hearts of the vagrant souls all around me
The poor wandering ones, surely strayed from their true course, dying with every breath, longing for what is good and true, yearning for what I have, yet not knowing in the slightest what to do to reach for it Nothing like serenity, serendipidity, and no way to explain that it begins with me, not some external entity or deity;
They think I try to attribute it to the medication or the change of lifestyle;
Fuck that, it was all about a change of mind and a change of heart, nothing else could spare me from falling apart.
When you see your chest capsizing because your internal organs are like gravity, your heart ceases to beat, just one empty cavity and all you want is something to end your misery, THEN you know there has to be a better way, that you can’t be complacent any longer.
When your veins are pumped full and your eyes are pumped empty; when your soul is so bankrupt you couldn’t even sell it to buy back your dignity for a penny, you know the time for change is come. Fuck believing in G0d. Fuck believing in miracles. Seeing is believing, motherfucker.
It’s a miracle that someone thought to shove a tube down my throat and not let me die. It’s a miracle that there are others who can love me for me in those desperate moments when I am unable to love myself, that I might do the same for others in turn, that I might perpetuate the cycle. Yeah, it sucks. But what’s the alternative? Death? Nonexistance? Fabricated spiritual planes? Who the fuck knows? But while we’re here, why the fuck should we go out of our way to destroy what we have going for us; it’s really NOT THAT BAD.
If you’re reading this, you have access to a computer. If you have time to be looking at a computer, you have food in your belly and, for the time being anyways, a roof over your head. TELL ME WHAT ELSE IS THAT IMPORTANT. STOP BEING SO FUCKING SELFISH. FUCK THE AMERICAN CORPORATE CONGLOMORATE TELLING YOU WHAT YOU HAVE, WANT, OR NEED.
I don’t know if I “have” a bipolar “illness” or not. I just know that if I take pills x, y, and z, it keeps me out of the hospital. It’s scary to think that I’ve “let myself go” so far. Or maybe those with more MEDICAL knowledge than myself know better than those IGNORANT DRUG ADDICTED MOTHERFUCKERS who try and tell me that using prescription drugs is a weakness and I’m the victim of pharmacutical mind control. So what if my dope comes in Eckerds bottles and not little baggies? At least it’s standardized, I’m not going to jail if I’m caught with it, and people with a helluva lot more medical knowledge than me OR THEM tell me I should be taking it. SO FUCK THEM.
I’m so sick of hearing it. I’m sick of these motherfuckers trying to tell me I’ve brought this on myself. Like being psychotic, when it’s happened to me, was something I chose. Or drug addicted. That shit is so ignorant, and it makes me feel like smashing things. Like smashing ignorant belief systems more than things, really. This nation, this conglorporation, is long overdue for a paradigm shift, and it’s nauseating; you need more than prescription Marinol to keep it down if you catch my drift. Society is such a hard pill to swallow. And again, what’s the alternative?
I wanna grow up and save the world? Who hasn’t said that. Addendum: what person in their RIGHT MIND hasn’t said that? Problem is, everyone has their own conflicting ways of going about it. Constant turmoil, turbulance, bouncing, conflicting chaos madness maddening spinning no one’s winning patience thinning evil grinning angels sinning saints spinning in their graves as the situations get worse and worse scenarios hex and curse themselves vex and rehearse themselves over and over again as history repeats itself.
After years of waiting nothing gained does your life flash before your eyes you realize I’m a reasonable Man get off my case…
