Do you ever just feel crazy?

[newsclippings]

Cadmium and turpentine poisoning here I come!

But yeah my question is being butchered to a pulp. I always seem to feel an influx of emotions at any given point, hence, crazy. Unless I'm staring off into nothing.

[milo]

[NakedBear]

Nail biting is nothing compared to my little brother. He ate the skin off his his knuckles. He did it for years and years, and his hands were freaky looking.

[rowens]

Cadmium and turpentine poisoning here I come!

But yeah my question is being butchered to a pulp. I always seem to feel an influx of emotions at any given point, hence, crazy. Unless I'm staring off into nothing.

Maybe you're asking all the wrong questions.

[Magpie]

Cadmium and turpentine poisoning here I come!

But yeah my question is being butchered to a pulp. I always seem to feel an influx of emotions at any given point, hence, crazy. Unless I'm staring off into nothing.

Hi nc, I probably didn't answer your original question correctly in my previous post and....

plans for tonight

lose mind to be found at a later date
let 33 cups of tea go cold cursing every one
get distracted from kitchen to bathroom to plants to guitar to the
maddening creativity of over spontaneous spontaneity

make a list of things to do never to be done
talk to the room in various accents
questioning

more cups of tea gone cold
determined to drink one that's hot
only to be distracted
mid sip by gentle call of books stacked since last
crazy night day night sun up

cast occasional glances at sentimental television that
feels its been unloved for too long

shave perhaps
bath perhaps
food perhaps not

exit hurly burly
watch sunrise
stolen flowers
gathered feathers
then back

to

exit once more burly hurly
in a whirlwind
towards town
towards day
towards next night
carrying scars through till sometime

instant sleep

[newsclippings]

Cadmium and turpentine poisoning here I come!

But yeah my question is being butchered to a pulp. I always seem to feel an influx of emotions at any given point, hence, crazy. Unless I'm staring off into nothing.

Hi nc, I probably didn't answer your original question correctly in my previous post and....

plans for tonight

lose mind to be found at a later date
let 33 cups of tea go cold cursing every one
get distracted from kitchen to bathroom to plants to guitar to the
maddening creativity of over spontaneous spontaneity

make a list of things to do never to be done
talk to the room in various accents
questioning

more cups of tea gone cold
determined to drink one that's hot
only to be distracted
mid sip by gentle call of books stacked since last
crazy night day night sun up

cast occasional glances at sentimental television that
feels its been unloved for too long

shave perhaps
bath perhaps
food perhaps not

exit hurly burly
watch sunrise
stolen flowers
gathered feathers
then back

to

exit once more burly hurly
in a whirlwind
towards town
towards day
towards next night
carrying scars through till sometime

instant sleep

This is so utterly fantastic.

[rowens]

Do you ever feel like you're going to explode?

That you could rip a hole in the sky if you looked at it hard enough?

I used to be so-called manic in the years just a little while ago.
Now I'm pissed the fuck off all the goddamned time.
And I've never forgiven my parents for that Santa Claus thing. I loved that man.
I used to love beating the shit out of people, so somebody got me to become a wrestler, but told me I couldn't really hit people anymore; and that pissed me the fuck off too.
I'm one of the long line of people that wants to commit suicide because they can't stand the thought of death.

At least when I did the planned wrestling stuff, when I told them that they could really hit me, they did.

Newsy, why don't you post some more poems? See if I can stay on subject next time? And you can really hit me too, if you can reach me.

[Rook]

The other day, at my ex-girlfriend's sister wedding I was allegedly assaulted by a girl. There were twelve of us, drinking with the bride and groom by the Botanic Hotel. When my assailant approached me and sat on my lap, I was crushed with conflict. Luckily, I was also flushed with wine. The fact that an attractive blonde, whom I had never met before, was sitting on my lap, with her arms around my shoulder, was somewhat far more significant than the fact that my ex-girlfriend was sitting across the table, looking unimpressed. It beats me. She was the one who called it quits so I felt little remorse as I took the situation in. Of course that after about a minute, my rational mind took action. Who was this girl? A self-proclaimed gentleman must act as such from time to time to uphold what he pretends to be, so I carefully slid her onto the chair as I got up to face her and make my enquiry. As I turned, she surprised me for the second time. Like an arrow breaking down the wind, she tackled me onto the floor, immobilising me with her body. At that moment I felt a sudden pleasure. As I looked into her eyes, I understood what was happening. The pleasure of realisation. This lady was cooked. If I had to guess I'd say a fuckload of acid, maybe mushrooms or peyote. No, there is no way to get peyote in the Australian Outback, Is there? Well, she was cooked alright. It was then that my ex-girlfriend decided to take matters into her own hands. She got up and confronted the mysterious blonde, her fiery crimson hair reflecting the last few rays of sun. "Who the fuck are you?", she said. The silent assailant gracefully stood up and faced her. No hesitation; just the strike. And then it started. I will never forget it. Later, I overheard the detective saying that she was Canadian. A traveller.

And I never got her name.

[newsclippings]

The other day, at my ex-girlfriend's sister wedding I was allegedly assaulted by a girl. There were twelve of us, drinking with the bride and groom by the Botanic Hotel. When my assailant approached me and sat on my lap, I was crushed with conflict. Luckily, I was also flushed with wine. The fact that an attractive blonde, whom I had never met before, was sitting on my lap, with her arms around my shoulder, was somewhat far more significant than the fact that my ex-girlfriend was sitting across the table, looking unimpressed. It beats me. She was the one who called it quits so I felt little remorse as I took the situation in. Of course that after about a minute, my rational mind took action. Who was this girl? A self-proclaimed gentleman must act as such from time to time to uphold what he pretends to be, so I carefully slid her onto the chair as I got up to face her and make my enquiry. As I turned, she surprised me for the second time. Like an arrow breaking down the wind, she tackled me onto the floor, immobilising me with her body. At that moment I felt a sudden pleasure. As I looked into her eyes, I understood what was happening. The pleasure of realisation. This lady was cooked. If I had to guess I'd say a fuckload of acid, maybe mushrooms or peyote. No, there is no way to get peyote in the Australian Outback, Is there? Well, she was cooked alright. It was then that my ex-girlfriend decided to take matters into her own hands. She got up and confronted the mysterious blonde, her fiery crimson hair reflecting the last few rays of sun. "Who the fuck are you?", she said. The silent assailant gracefully stood up and faced her. No hesitation; just the strike. And then it started. I will never forget it. Later, I overheard the detective saying that she was Canadian. A traveller.

And I never got her name.

this is fantastic.

[rowens]

I became a drunkard, because I noticed that drunk people act the same way I do when I'm not drunk, and are adored and admired for it. But it's cool to be a recreational drinker and drug user that turns into a drunkard and drug addict; while self-medicating only makes you crazy and a drunkard or drug addict, and feared by all women except the ones you're giving money to. There's something about drugs and money that'll make the most sought after females go to places where they would never go otherwise without acting both scared and flaky right away. Flaky when the money runs out, afraid when the drugs wear off and the lies become obvious.

Psychiatry is a pseudoscience that legitimately works for people that want to be a part of society. I don't want to be a part of society, but I adore society women. And that's my tragic love story.

I'll be a part of society when I'm dead. Either that, or fade away. Because once you're dead, you slow down long enough for people that knew you to make sense out of you and assimilate you into some social paradigm. Or you're simply forgotten.

But my stark argument is always this: Anyone that has realized that they only have one life to live, and that life is becoming ever closer to the end as each moment goes by, yet they continue caring about social status and working to secure enough money and possessions so that they can continue working to secure enough money and possessions to continue working...they are just as insane as anyone else. Unless they love their work. And depending on what work that is, they might also be insane.

There are too many people in the world. And though I'm here in the middle of nowhere, I still feel crowded in and can hardly breathe.

When I see a person twitching and raving on the city street, I befriend that person as much as they seem interested in having someone to talk to, and they usually want to talk to anyone and everyone. And why wouldn't they? Existence is a lonely and complicated experience. It takes everything from you, and gives very little in return in comparison; and after it's taken everything, it obviously gives nothing. My only friends have been obsessed, broken lunatics. And even they would betray anything and anyone when money or drugs or social status options become available. Out of fear, out of desperation, out of loneliness, out of confusion, out of delusion, out of anger. But that could suddenly be true of anyone.

Self-esteem, respect, credibility; for me, none of those things compare to dignity and integrity. And so I don't think those attributes should often be as closely linked. I'm of the losers, and for the losers. Because there are lots of things in this world that many people would do better to lose. I believe in a lot less emphasis on being correct, and more on being true.

I've always felt this way, and years of accumulating medications, doctors, hospitals, disastrous relationships and families and friendships, and failures have never changed that.

The only reason why I don't leave this wretched place again is that, for the time being, I'm still too much in love with a few misfits that are themselves anchored to this place no matter what. And that's really the most insane thing about me.

[newsclippings]

We work for the man because we want independence. <-- Hah.

It's all about freedom anyway, it's just how you interpret it.

[rowens]

Loving somebody, even loving yourself, is the most gruelling slavery there is. And I'm all for it.

[newsclippings]

It's all in how you look at it.
Though I don't want to fall in love.

[rowens]

I have an obsessive need to experience what others are feeling and thinking. A girl I knew told me it wasn't obsession, it was just empathy. But she surely wasn't sympathetic about it. Even though she could relate a little bit, and we were going to work on writing together, she found it too disturbing after a while and disappeared like they always do. It jeopardized her own sense of self. I'm able to distance myself from my sense of self for long periods of time; but when it rolls back over me, it's like having your flesh ripped off and then having your damaged nerves respond days after the fact. Like a wave of sick heat rushes through me. That's when you need somebody physically there with you, or too much of you gets caught down in that sick place, and won't come out with the rest of you. But those are the times when people you need are less likely to be around. And the more you lose, the more of you that's trapped down in the sick places, the less easy it is to find anyone that's willing to be around you at all.

But I think if people can truly appreciate the adventures of their own minds and bodies, and that of other people: all that's there going on in the world of the body, they can understand why it's so important to travel the world. Technology makes the planet seem smaller than it is. And it's numbing for most people. I don't like being numb. I break the buttons on computers when I type my books, they're such flimsy machines. And I don't like them; they violate my sensual preferences. I often feel that typing on a computer is like making love to a woman through her husband, or her pet, or worse yet, her welcome mat. And I think preferences are important.

It seems to me that with all the exposure people have these days with the Internet, and all the conversations I hear people having, that they would be numbed to anything "strange". But it seems people are becoming even more uptight and more sensitive to things that lead them into fear and hatred. Most people just pretend that they think something's weird or scary for face value with the people they're around; but they do it so much that it becomes their actual feelings and beliefs.

All people are stupid sometimes, even the most intelligent and understanding go through phases where they seem to forget what they know. But many people are never intelligent. And that makes sense, since when looking at "the big picture", self-conscious intelligence is an abomination among us furry animals. But you have to fight off the healthy, normal people, because they're the ones that are going to eventually kill you.

[newsclippings]

I had another episode this morning.

[billy]

i read above anout the question being butchered....my honest answer is no, not really
i seldom if ever feel crazy. i've felt anger and a host of other emotions but only crazy whilst fighting. oh, an an odd occasion whilst using change, though that was more paranoia than crazy.

[rowens]

I have a hard time counting money, maybe that's why I'm always losing it. But mostly I'm spending it, or giving it away. But I have a hard time with counting change or any kind of money.


..................

You had an episode, Newsclippings? I'm glad to see it wasn't a series finale episode, or I'd miss you.

I have to go see who just showed up at my room.

[rowens]

I've been butchering questions for decades.

[newsclippings]

"I do this! Time after time after time! I do all this shit for other people! And then I wake up and I'm empty! I have nothing!"

I watched Silver Linings Playbook last night and it was perfect. A very real movie.

[rowens]

I've heard of that movie, but I've never seen it. I saw the trailer for it a while back. The actress in it is named Jennifer Lawrence; and I remember that because I liked the way she dressed, and that got my attention, but not much else. I usually end up watching horror and science fiction movies. But I watch all kinds when I'm pressured to. I use to make low/no budget movies with a friend. And I used to watch movies a lot more than I do now. I just find that I relate to horror and science fiction movies more. That's just how I see the world: horror and science fiction.

I think I didn't watch Silver Linings Playbook because I liked the way Jennifer Lawrence looked, and figured I'd get jealous.