Posted

I was just wondering if I have become completely without hope.
I figured it was true, the way I felt. My recent behavior and the resulting
outcomes, but my wonder is then, how can one go on living without hope?
Then I thought, perhaps hope is there, but I just cannot see it.

In a way, words are dead. Miller was right. My verbal output does not
indicate the behavior of the thing. So I suppose the word then is hypocrite.
The word indicates an actor at large. I don’t want to be an actor, nor do I want the
thing I refer to this way either. Thus I seemingly don’t have control over the thing
itself. However, I have noticed when the behavior storm arrives, I am hardly
present. That is the stress level overrides my analytical thinking self, thus only
a reptilian instinctual creature is left, one that is obviously left to bad habits,
dangerous and risky behavior. How can this stress be so overwhelming to put
short-term relief above that miserable outcome?! That complete avoidance of
responsibility to gain an abundance of pleasure, although a slight relief
of pressure would probably do just fine?! I don’t know what is ignorance?
I need my own definitions to some extent, a refinement or clarity of those
that remain shrouded behind a veil of ignorance.

Author

Posted

Boy do I feel dumb. Sometimes I can’t imagine how I can
achieve anything at all. It’s surreal. Then that feeling passes
and life goes on. I can’t say if all this is chemical in nature, these
thoughts and pauses and sentences. I feel tired of prying. Now
I real tired again this evening. I was an ok week, but it sure wasn’t
any reason for celebration. More dismay regarding the psychiatric
drugs. To feel restless. To be so blah. Blah and blah. I watched
Moneyball this week. It just happened. I watched a baseball
game too – a couple innings maybe. I am getting old and I am not
so caring about most things. I believe I can say things and things
don’t make sense too. I can feel this, but know that something else
may be more true. It sounds right, but I know it’s gibberish. I don’t
care. I agree. It’s only right, the world is not here. I am not…was…
Lost that. Don’t care. Picasso had a blue and rose period. I have
my don’t care period. Hard to believe I am here, but that’s perhaps the
beauty of this, b/c later I will be able to return to this and wonder if I wrote
this. But I won’t be sure. Just like I can’t be sure right now. Make sense.

Author

Posted

It’s very hard to believe in a lifetime at this point.
I can sense much is forgotten about myself.
So much is changed with age that it’s hard to make a whole.
I am watching some movies again. It’s fine I think, but I can
tell it’s annoying to me, the ease at which a decent flick is
obtained. I just watched Wilderness and then Marriage Story;
both are fine movies. The acting is above par.
The speed of light is constant. This is not valuable information I suppose.
Albert Einstein’s sun sign was Pisces according to sidereal astrology; just made
it in – between 0 and 1 degree (30 degrees being the max for each sign).

Author

Posted

I’ve been reading about astrology again. Um no.
I had an unexpected UTI.
The level of stress seems high, but that mostly
happens when one is falling behind. Um no.

My sister has a Hulu account, we watched a documentary
called Free Solo. Kudos to Alex Honnold.
I also was keen on the phenomena of speed cubing. So young.
Then finally I saw Theory of Everything. Now I’m waiting
to read A Brief History of Time.
Ok.

Author

Posted

It wasn’t a good week last week.
I had an escort and 3 binges at strip clubs in NJ.
I don’t like escorts and I don’t like strip clubs.
I don’t like drinking to get drunk.
I thought I was somewhat mentally ready for this,
but I guess not. This is super depressing. I can’t
believe I turned out to become like this. Depression
isn’t an excuse for such bad behavior, but what it’s
not like I’m happy with myself. I thought I was stronger
than this. I know I don’t need like that much sex.
Like maybe a little to survive, if that, but no way like this.
This is a psych-trip that has spiraled downward. It’s not
easy to admit a weakness, beyond the surface level. If
I am lusting for sex and shit, I need to become more
determined to seek the righteous path. I can’t go down
like this. I admit I was really scared, b/c I thought that
this is it, time has run out, I won’t get back on the right track.
And in a way, it’s true, time has run out, and I am not doing
well. How many setbacks can a person take? With this
type of disease, the shame and embarrassment are actually
compounding the chances of relapse. I need to become
revitalized and transcend this BS. Time is like an enemy
when the recovery starts. The start is very hard, and makes
one feel the impossibility of the task. As the days pass, the
worst is over, the emotions come back under control. The fear
and anxiety abate, and it’s time to be vigilant. So how come
it happens? b/c I forget; like a hurricane’s inertia. Warnings
of impeding doom will not help, but only a strong desire for
righteousness will suffice. In the moment urge and compulsion
are strong, so quick and overwhelming, like a big wave that
crashes over me. Only a superior desire for good things, like
Hawaiian song, can shield my spirit. The outlook is not good
and weakness sets in and that physical weakness causes
mental weakness. I guess just don’t give up the fight.

why does goodness, being good, not appeal so much? i need
detail? what’s good? good is good, but what’s good? not
moving the lawn, not cooking, not washing, or cleaning, not
meditating, not this or that. not painting. what’s good?! i can’t
find this strand! i need that i believe. how can I fight the urge to
just cave in and disappear forever into the darkness? it must be
like a computer program thread or something, the simplicity of just
sitting and drinking in a dark place and looking at girls dancing
must be numbing my pain away. of course it is! how can i find a
mind that wants to destroy this habit? how can i be so dumb to
think that there is love there? lust is there. what is that? it’s
pleasure no? pleasure-pain, yin-yang. how much longer?
don’t be scared. why not? i am. i know, i know it’s destroying me.

One thing, I never think about all the bad times at the clubs right
before I’m ready to go, just about the chance to be really
satisfied. This is perverted right? Anyway, that tells me my
intelligence is being hijacked by my hormones. It happens every
time. This tells me I’m in over my head too.

Author