Being for the benefit of Mr. Kite...Women should consider themselves hummingbirds made of Iron

Don't just stand there with your mouh open like your catching flies! DO SOMETHING! I never said to halt. The opposite of productive is counterproductive (which is what your being (and it better be for the goddamn time being)). Find the equilibrium of yourself, balance that shit out. Don't store the work away on the highset most insignificant shelf. Right now the todom pole is shifting, your egyptian scae is movin' up and down sporadically by the hour. By and by, and by, and by....and by. Jiminy Christmas! I can't sit still! And I wouldn't wanna if I could. You should't do things to be good. As if you wouldn't, yes you would, I don't really think you should. Alledgally I'm a theif, a bandit, a traitor. I've commited treason on my own land. My hands are black in guilt. Brand me up, like a cow, I'ma bad man now. Oh lawd, I'm a freeloadin', freewheelin', sonofabitch and I ain't got nothin to hide cause I ain't got nothin' to show for my existence. See, I'm animalistic. I don't do nothin' I need to other than things necessary for my survival. That, and the occasional sneer at the world, and I won't quit my bitchin'. Never even think about that, even for a time amount in a smidgeon. I think I need to take my midol. My hormones, they be out of whack, think I'd oughta hit the sack, hit the fucking road jack!

Parasite

Not a real, full-fledged person anymore. Can't say I'm stil a ghost, but I will say that Connie has left her mind and soul. I suppose shes still in her body, well the physical evidence of her body has been left untouched, but her corrupt mind is controlling her body, so i suppose her body isn't under her command anymore. I ain't no general/commanding cheif of nothin' no more. Life is different now. Restless. Unreal. I don't know when it got like this. A dream brought me here. All of a sudden my past doesn't connect with my present or future. I don't get it. Restless, restless, restless. Sleep is for Austrailian wessies. they only REALLY sleep down' under. Actually, I don't have statisitcs to prove that fact, I just made it up. I just want myself back. Feel like a sociopath or some shit. like I'm going through the motions of caring so mush like I did before. I swear. I DID. It's not like I'm a rel sociopath. But, I've just becme different. Nostalgis gets me everytime. What I really want all the time is to be a child again. I won't though if I'm ok. Twitching. When did nothing become real? Am I supressing things or something? it's like I got raped or something. Did something traumatic happen to me? Or was it just that one bad time with pot? Everything became dreamy after that. I swear. And when I remember tat I think less about the whole "bipolar" scenario. I am hot. But everything has been conceted since he pot and that dreamy feeling. When I smoked my min went into a swoosh. Like everything god was wrong. And then even what was "sooo" right was the most terrible, vile, and wicked thing in the world. And I was saying I was the devil. It was terror for some hours. And then that other time with the one medication, the terror too, ll day long and my memory is impared now. And with that mdication the drwam I had that wasn't a dream, just a killer killing feeling. All this fucked me up. It has been trauma. Trauma that I'll never remember. Something bad happened in my mind which is as bad as something happening to anyone externally. What happened/whats wrong with me? Come back, come back, come back...Connie? What are you? An earthling still? Why has my perception been phased and dazed? I want to remember something. Something real. Since a month ago everything has been superficial. And Connie, she cries inside, se wants tobe COnnie. Connie is NOT superficial. What happened to make me feel high everyday? Bad "acid trip" for a month. Can I just go back? Connie can't just forget or not notice that ses canged in a bad and weird way where shes not hersef. She can't continue on like this. She needs closure and realness. And the answer. It all seems to be held above me. And everyday I think I'll find it more. I think I'll find it about 30% now where s I thought I'd find it about 1% when I started. PAUSE FOR AN UNSPECIFIED AMOUNT OF TIME. But, it's still not the same in writing I feel content cause I go to aplace. When I pick up the pen and go back to not writing and conscienceness I realizze again that my consciencess is altered. Scarily. And I hate acting like its ok. It's not. But then i also go back to not noticing it because I've become immuned to it a bit because everyday and every second I am like this. But I still hate it. It's satan, bee'lzebub. Someone perform an exorcism on my mind? Please? I STILL feel the day I smoked. And the other day I did. And the day with te medication. I still feel like I did in those times. Those days I am connected to. But not my past perception. My past perception was differnt from mind now. Past= real person, not noticing as much, yet, in a strange way, noticing more. I suppose the difference between then and now are the different types of things I notice. I noticed less things of one category then and more of another category, and vice verse to now. It's just all so strange. Sheer absurdity! I want to be rid of it all. Wash my hands of it. Too bad its not just grme, its sticky sap from a pine tree I so carlessly climed in my youth. That shit never comes off easily. I just want it to disprse, deteorate, dilute, dissenagrate, decompose, discombobulate and....fucking die. Perish you vermin! You parasit, you leech! Stop sucking the blood out of my conscienceness! You didn't ask for permission you scoundrel! But then again, scoundrels are known widely to refrain from asking for permisson so I can't be suprised. Although, (I never said I was suprised)...yet, tat doesn't account for the ongoing despair I have dwelled in for the past month does it now?

New perspective, as fresh as fruit

Music and words are mine again, it's awful lovely to see the return of such cherished friend. Self expresson, thats the stuff, in words and depth I love too much. It makes me me, It makes me breathe, the swift crisp air is now in reach. My old mindset I must empeach, for its time for a new constitution.. an' I heard it's quite the revolution. You feel the beat, you see the street, what doesn't bother you anymore is the heat, and ya don't even care if ya get enough to eat...malnourished in body, overstimulated in mind, even if cliche, your soul will always be alive. It has no beginning, it has no end. Starting point is blurry, ending is rusty, your perception is getting slightly crusty. Well sir, it's infinity and beyond, these feelings I possess ain't never gonna be gone. It's a love, it's a hate, it's a never ending debate. But sometimes the mouth thats wisest, is the quietest....and it reigns in a whisper.

Freedom

Self sufficient as hell, and I love it. Beautiful moments like this are the reason I exist. The moments where I feel I am perfect. Sounds narcassistic as hell right? But thats not what I mean. When you are at peace with yourself, you in turn are perfect. Your frozen in time. In a state of Nirvana. I know one thing true..my life will have a shit-load of ups and downs. But, when the going gets rough...I will NOT surrender. I'll remember these times and be...not exactly happy, not exactly satisfied...but hopeful. And thats enough to keep my resiliant ass goin. It really is.

Cynical, doubting, contemptous, remote, solitary, withdrawn. MOCKING.

Subconciously, I knew that when I was rid of my innocence, I'd want it back desperetly. But still, I tested the boundaries. What I didn't know back then was that it was time, and not experience was the only way I'd.."mature". I look back on those days, and my nievity and, I want them back. At least then, I had something to look foward to. Or at least something, some element of life..that was unknown. Now, I feel, I see all. And not much of it is postive. None of it's a mystery, and none of it is love and acceptance. See, thats all I've ever REALLY wanted...I mean isn't it what we all strive for? Maybe I'm just a loner. Maybe I'm scared. Maybe, I don't deserve anybody. I could go on and on and on until I die...the sad thing is that I most likely will. This right here is the problem. Why don't I just dive out there into the world? What is holding me back? Why am I sitting here writing about this? My apprehensions are my shortcoming. I am a thinker, not a doer. Maybe, I should "participate" more like the Charlie needed to from "The perks of being a Wallflower"..but how do I participate? Theres nothing I feel comfortable enough in doing. Nothing feels like it could ever possibly be.."fun"..what the hell is fun? It's all just a lie, everything they ever tell you. "It will all work out in the end", "Everything gets better after highschool", "Learn from you mistakes"...you know, everthing any adult has ever said to you..(although I've never heard anything woth my while)..all these adults...they are pulling all of our chains...they know life is, will, and has always...and will continue to be nothing more than a big pile of shit. Why are they attempting to cheer us up? Maybe they think they will find peace one day, as I did through early adolesence. NEWSFLASH people, LIFE WILL NEVER GET BETTER! It will cheat you from birth. I think my problem is that I have ran out of things to keep me occupied and interested. I have heard/ read/ researched about pretty much every interesting human being out there...and now I am bored. What else is there to do? Go on an adventure? I already told you...I am a thinker...not a doer. But...why is that? Why don't I ever get my srry ass up of of the couch and do something? Maybe, I am scared, or hopeless, or insecure. Maybe, just maybe, I will never know. God? You there? ...Can you help??...Just as I suspected....no answer.