Wednesday, January 11, 2006

January 11, 2006

9:40 AM - 1/11/06
~Got Paint?

Needless to say, I have no desire to be awake right now. Worker dudes needed to do their thing though. Was woken up by a courtesy BANG, and then treated to Grace Slick asking me repeatedly whether or not I wanted somebody to love... whether or not I needed somebody to love, then deciding for me, apparently, and telling me that I'd better find somebody to love. Shit, the way I see it, all I really need is somebody to shut the fuck up and turn the radio down.

I think that they're painting today. I heard the sounds of plastic and paint cans. I did that once... painted apartments. The job didn't last long. The woman I was working for was a complete head case, and my head wasn't all that better. I liked the job, but I'm a little too anal retentive to be all that good at it. I'm in there trying to make it perfect. You're just supposed to throw the paint up there and get out. I think that was in '94, right before the restaurant job. Right before I completely fell to shit and ended up in lock up again. That was the whole "the roof started leaking" time period.

I think that someone dropped a paint bucket. My floor just shook. I called out, "Bless you!". I wonder if they heard me. I swear these apartments are made out of paper. I keep looking outside for the Big Bad Wolf.

Guess I should check the mirror.


12:29 PM - 1/11/06
Wednesday, January 11th, 2006

My head is full. So much is in there, so much I want to spill out... so many stories I want to tell. At the same time, I want to crawl into the skulls of others, find what I want, and add it to my info vault.

I don't want to learn from anyone. I just want to take what I want. I don't want to stroke anyone's already overblown ego by letting them think that they're actually teaching me anything. It's rare that I come across people who can teach me jack shit. Been there, done that, wrote the fucking book. What I want from people is just enough information from their brains to completely subdue them. It's all about control.

It's all about posturing and pretense.

It's all about protecting myself from those who would rip me to shreds... or getting back at those who already have.

My mother is German. Aryan. The person I was raised to believe was my father is Jewish. My mother converted to Judaism. She re-married another Jewish man when I was about 10. After I turned 18, I went to the tattoo parlor. The first professional tattoo I ever got was the Nazi Eagle.

It's all about growing up.


6:28 PM - 1/11/06
~Masked

My head is all over the place. It's choppy though... streams of thought stop and start. Things start making sense, then they seem to be complete bullshit.

There's a place my mind goes... it shifts... switches... alters... then, off it goes. It usually happens right after I feel sort of functional. I get up, check my e-mail, do some reading, take my meds, take a shower, get dressed, take the trash out, check the mail, make something to eat. I brush the pain off and make a phone call... I pace... I feel as if I'll be just fine... I can do it, I just have to get organized. Sometimes this lasts for quite a while. I start getting organized. Life starts changing. Then, I'm smacked in the face with reality. All of a sudden, I realize that I'm completely delusional. All of a sudden I realize that I'd just been playing some sort of messed up game with myself.

Yesterday, I got a shower and got my mail. Today, I actually vacuumed my floor. I just sat down here... I was pacing back and forth... thinking, thinking, thinking.

I can feel it, pulling me. My brain feels like it's being pushed by my spine.

I'm losing touch with people. They're seeming less and less real... no more real than the people on tv. People seem hollow... like puppets. I fade away from myself... my arms are not mine... I don't use my eyes to see, I see through these eyes.

Words lose their meaning as they appear on the screen.

Soon, my mask of sanity will slide off. Soon, reality and delusion will switch places.

...and I won't care to know the difference.

No comments: