Okay, so I have no concept of time. But you already knew that. Anyway, I'm all...I dunno, despondent I guess. I was really good earlier, all happy and giddy and stuff. Slate and Amethyst and I went and saw a movie. And it was all okay. And now it's not. Dammit, maybe I am bipolar. But it's not as bad as before. Before the happy pills I mean. I didn't crash as horribly, fall as hard. And, to be honest, I wasn't as high, either. I guess that's a good thing.
I'm all contemplative now. Thinking about things that should be left in the darkened rooms of my castle/mind. Behind locked doors without keys, rusted shut-and nailed shut, too. Things that have no business being in ANYONE's mind, much less mine. Things about the past. Things about the present. Things about the future. Things about things and things about people. Things about love and loss and hope and despair. Thoughts racing again, flowing down the river to drown or be eaten by the monsters. Yeah, lots of monsters down that river.
I miss the Smurfs.
"On my own pretending he's beside me. All alone, I walk with him til morning. Without him, I feel his arms around me. And when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me."
When will I get it through my damned thick head that I will always be alone in that regard. Am I so desperate that I'd fall in love with someone I'd never met? I did. How easily that one fades...and how easily it returns. My heart...I'd give it completely, tarnished as it is. I will love my loves forever. My first love, too, still has part of my heart. On my behalf and on Amethyst's. I still often wonder about the "what if's" and "what could I have done different's". Doesn't everyone?
And I'm still...sore from Thanksgiving. Not my body, just the rest of me. I blame myself, I go over it in my head, I feel so...damned contemptible. Intellectually I know what happened, who's to blame. Intellectually doesn't account for the parts of me that aren't intellectual. How much of those parts do I have left?
I know I'm all over the charts tonight, and for that...well, I'd apologize, but this is kinda my thing so I'd only be apologizing to myself. Which I do often.
"I have faith in medication; I believe in the Prozac nation. You play doctor but I've lost patience.
"Make excuses for behaviour; can my illness be my saviour. Hid my heart while you still gave yours.
"I've been loved and I've been hated, been picked up and been sedated. Mental health is overrated.
"But this is where it ends. This is where it ends."
And this I tell myself all the time: "The love I bear thee can afford no better term than this: thou art a villian." I even had it written backwards on my mirror for a while. It gets harder and harder to respond "The reason that I have to love thee...villian am I none."
I wish it were as easy to get out of this life as it appears to be to get into it. And even though I understand that stupid people breed, I am constantly astonished that two of them produced me.
Laters
I'm all contemplative now. Thinking about things that should be left in the darkened rooms of my castle/mind. Behind locked doors without keys, rusted shut-and nailed shut, too. Things that have no business being in ANYONE's mind, much less mine. Things about the past. Things about the present. Things about the future. Things about things and things about people. Things about love and loss and hope and despair. Thoughts racing again, flowing down the river to drown or be eaten by the monsters. Yeah, lots of monsters down that river.
I miss the Smurfs.
"On my own pretending he's beside me. All alone, I walk with him til morning. Without him, I feel his arms around me. And when I lose my way I close my eyes and he has found me."
When will I get it through my damned thick head that I will always be alone in that regard. Am I so desperate that I'd fall in love with someone I'd never met? I did. How easily that one fades...and how easily it returns. My heart...I'd give it completely, tarnished as it is. I will love my loves forever. My first love, too, still has part of my heart. On my behalf and on Amethyst's. I still often wonder about the "what if's" and "what could I have done different's". Doesn't everyone?
And I'm still...sore from Thanksgiving. Not my body, just the rest of me. I blame myself, I go over it in my head, I feel so...damned contemptible. Intellectually I know what happened, who's to blame. Intellectually doesn't account for the parts of me that aren't intellectual. How much of those parts do I have left?
I know I'm all over the charts tonight, and for that...well, I'd apologize, but this is kinda my thing so I'd only be apologizing to myself. Which I do often.
"I have faith in medication; I believe in the Prozac nation. You play doctor but I've lost patience.
"Make excuses for behaviour; can my illness be my saviour. Hid my heart while you still gave yours.
"I've been loved and I've been hated, been picked up and been sedated. Mental health is overrated.
"But this is where it ends. This is where it ends."
And this I tell myself all the time: "The love I bear thee can afford no better term than this: thou art a villian." I even had it written backwards on my mirror for a while. It gets harder and harder to respond "The reason that I have to love thee...villian am I none."
I wish it were as easy to get out of this life as it appears to be to get into it. And even though I understand that stupid people breed, I am constantly astonished that two of them produced me.
Laters
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