Well I feel quite bad i haven’t updated this blog for eight days! This is for a combination of reasons. The first being general laziness and a feeling of depression. The second is my left hand still hurting like a SHIT!! and the third is that since Sunday night i have had ARKHAM HORROR the AMAZING board game that can be played alone. Yes when I write that out it sounds a little odd, however you read alone and many people play computer games alone so why not play a board game alone? I started on Sunday playing sunday night just to get a general understanding of the rules but have become utter hooked... in-fact i need to get back to it as one of my characters (i’m playing 3!) has gone and got lost in time and space, and there is a rumour going round that all our hard work closing up the gates is soon to be undone! That last bit will mean nothing to you if you never played the game, but i assure you it is vital i return to the game!
We (Vicky and I) plan on playing the thing together but i must finish my game so i can accomplish something other that ‘rest and relaxation’ before the weekend. So more to follow hopefully a big lump written tomorrow afternoon....
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
day to day stuff
I see dead people. Or at least people standing next to death. In the last 3 months I’ve been in hospital on 3 occasions. The first, an extremely pleasant experience that involved looking at amazing images of our unborn child. No dead people that time. The second however a far more traumatic experience involving an extremely painful hand incident. This time the place was utterly full of dead people. Dead people and whispering devils and malignant spirits. Evil was most definitely in the hospital that evening. I was so glad to get out of there I gibbered at the taxi driver like a child. Finally, a week after the initial hand injury, and I have to admit with a head full of clonazepam, to keep the demons at bay, I returned. This was yesterday. I did see the demons again but I held them at bay. Yes funny isn’t it. I do not think people understand this thing. These things I see and hear. The drug I take at night is not making these demons go away. They are on the buses and in the bus queues and in the shop windows. They generate a great deal of fear and interest in me in equal amounts. I know it is some chemical imbalance in my brain that causes me to see, to smell and hear these things, and yet HOW! How do tiny amounts of ‘chemical’ in the brain make these things happen. These things real. Yes hearing voices of things and of people I know are not there is something I seem to deal with almost without thinking about it but seeing devils in bus queues in Tooting, well often times that’s quite hard to stomach. And FOR FUCKS SAKE you doctors with your 20 minutes of chit-chat and a little green bit of paper of drugs do not work. You have NO insight. I only ever met one that didn’t seem jaded to the point of being like a wilted uncared for grey house plant gathering dust in the corner of a drab stale smoke stinking small time insurance firm….
And so good doctors I have no faith in you. Yesterday I arrived at the fracture clinic and there was no record of any appointment having been made for me. I was not on their system. My hospital number did not exist. I was a ghost in their ‘at breaking point’ machine. The red mist that had caused the sodding problem in the first place was all around the edges. The other people in the waiting room seemed in on it and were rubbing there clawed filthy hands with glee. I was told just to wait so I sat down with the trusty ipod shield as protection. I was listening to the evil works of an artist called angerfist, fighting darkness with darkness. Now the guy, well I say guy, he was a very young boy, squint up your eyes and he could have been 12, told me he’d look into this little problem and I ‘might get seen by someone today’ but to wait 15 minutes. CUNT. I patiently waited 22 minutes, I know as I timed it on my ipod. And returned to the desk. Ooh yes sorry someone might see you in the next half hour, you will have to wait be it will not be long. I asked if I had time to go get a drink, the little boy said this would be fine. I didn’t get a drink, I went though the corridors filled with whispering devils out for a cigarette. I smoke too much, and there is no place worse to smoke as cigarette than outside a hospital. A woman in a wheel chair with some kind of bandage on her head approached me and asked if I had a spare cigarette. ‘no’ I said and she seemed to mumble some kind of archaic spell under her breath. Was this an ill omen. Was I to be waiting here all day?
I returned to the now nearly empty waiting room, the spoon benders and the clusters of demons had vanished like whisps of sulphur smoke and for some reason I had begun to get a strangely good feeling. Within five minutes of my return I was seen! Seen by two very kind faced doctors who both had obviously read my supposedly none-existent notes and had the decency to treat me as a human being.
“your hand is broken but it is healing very well. You need to use it. It will hurt, it will hurt for months. BUT if you use it all the time”(at this point they showed me some exercises I have been doing since leaving the hospital!)”it will heal without complication. Do not play cricket.”(bummer!!) “but it will heal itself” and with this I was done. No need for physio as I think that I reassured then I could now go off and heal myself. I felt a weight lift! WHOOOOOOPPPPPEEEEEEEEE I am not crippled, I am not in a cast, and I am writing this with two hands. The devils and stench had also lifted, I felt rushes of adrenaline and joy. I treated my self to a cold refreshing pint of 1664 in a pub Oooh what a pub! Filled to bursting with the dregs but the truly good. I was sorely tempted to have more than one pint but did not. I had had bad luck that I have not yet mentioned. The getting on of the wrong bus took me to the wrong Tooting (not for the first time!) and so I’d had to get a tube.
NOTE: I suddenly have a love of the tube, where previously I would have avoided those tunnels I have become an overnight convert, any excuse and I’m down there like a flash!
I had also lost ten pounds. I have become an expert at losing things. I lose pouches of rolling tobacco at least once a week and I have also lost my bank card, a mobile phone, an oyster card …the list goes on. This ten pounds I had lost today was to buy electricity (we are on a meter) ooouuuucccchhhh my fucking hand hurts, but they said it would.
I got up at 5:15 am and wrote this, it’s now 7:37 and it is getting light outside. I know today will be a good day, an adventure of meeting new people, who, like my self have mental problems, but are not some state organised group. Nope, these guys are from a chat forum I’ve used for a year or so which is especially for people with mental health problems. I may, if I am lucky be getting a bunch of original cramps vinyl which is extremely exiting. WOW!
NOTE:I have old long established friends who for what ever reason seem to think these problems I suffer are something to be dealt with like a cold or a broken arm. I love these friends but find their lack of understanding rather stupid. Bright people can often be more stupid about certain areas than stupid people, if you see what I mean. I actually believe my little meek and rather silly cat has in some way more insight and understanding.
Now finally a note on the figure painting. I will attempt to draw before I paint the little monsters and dwarves I have been working on. It is an utter fuck to be unable to use my hand properly and well but no doubt over the coming weeks I will be howling out my frustrations, however I will persevere. I think I need a good and long electrical extension lead to light these figure as best I can, so that the ones I have painted can be photographed, not on a plain white background, but on the scenery I have been building for them. I also have a car model to work on, however I may well look into the whole ‘air-brush’ thing for that…. I’ve always fancied an air-brush.
And so good doctors I have no faith in you. Yesterday I arrived at the fracture clinic and there was no record of any appointment having been made for me. I was not on their system. My hospital number did not exist. I was a ghost in their ‘at breaking point’ machine. The red mist that had caused the sodding problem in the first place was all around the edges. The other people in the waiting room seemed in on it and were rubbing there clawed filthy hands with glee. I was told just to wait so I sat down with the trusty ipod shield as protection. I was listening to the evil works of an artist called angerfist, fighting darkness with darkness. Now the guy, well I say guy, he was a very young boy, squint up your eyes and he could have been 12, told me he’d look into this little problem and I ‘might get seen by someone today’ but to wait 15 minutes. CUNT. I patiently waited 22 minutes, I know as I timed it on my ipod. And returned to the desk. Ooh yes sorry someone might see you in the next half hour, you will have to wait be it will not be long. I asked if I had time to go get a drink, the little boy said this would be fine. I didn’t get a drink, I went though the corridors filled with whispering devils out for a cigarette. I smoke too much, and there is no place worse to smoke as cigarette than outside a hospital. A woman in a wheel chair with some kind of bandage on her head approached me and asked if I had a spare cigarette. ‘no’ I said and she seemed to mumble some kind of archaic spell under her breath. Was this an ill omen. Was I to be waiting here all day?
I returned to the now nearly empty waiting room, the spoon benders and the clusters of demons had vanished like whisps of sulphur smoke and for some reason I had begun to get a strangely good feeling. Within five minutes of my return I was seen! Seen by two very kind faced doctors who both had obviously read my supposedly none-existent notes and had the decency to treat me as a human being.
“your hand is broken but it is healing very well. You need to use it. It will hurt, it will hurt for months. BUT if you use it all the time”(at this point they showed me some exercises I have been doing since leaving the hospital!)”it will heal without complication. Do not play cricket.”(bummer!!) “but it will heal itself” and with this I was done. No need for physio as I think that I reassured then I could now go off and heal myself. I felt a weight lift! WHOOOOOOPPPPPEEEEEEEEE I am not crippled, I am not in a cast, and I am writing this with two hands. The devils and stench had also lifted, I felt rushes of adrenaline and joy. I treated my self to a cold refreshing pint of 1664 in a pub Oooh what a pub! Filled to bursting with the dregs but the truly good. I was sorely tempted to have more than one pint but did not. I had had bad luck that I have not yet mentioned. The getting on of the wrong bus took me to the wrong Tooting (not for the first time!) and so I’d had to get a tube.
NOTE: I suddenly have a love of the tube, where previously I would have avoided those tunnels I have become an overnight convert, any excuse and I’m down there like a flash!
I had also lost ten pounds. I have become an expert at losing things. I lose pouches of rolling tobacco at least once a week and I have also lost my bank card, a mobile phone, an oyster card …the list goes on. This ten pounds I had lost today was to buy electricity (we are on a meter) ooouuuucccchhhh my fucking hand hurts, but they said it would.
I got up at 5:15 am and wrote this, it’s now 7:37 and it is getting light outside. I know today will be a good day, an adventure of meeting new people, who, like my self have mental problems, but are not some state organised group. Nope, these guys are from a chat forum I’ve used for a year or so which is especially for people with mental health problems. I may, if I am lucky be getting a bunch of original cramps vinyl which is extremely exiting. WOW!
NOTE:I have old long established friends who for what ever reason seem to think these problems I suffer are something to be dealt with like a cold or a broken arm. I love these friends but find their lack of understanding rather stupid. Bright people can often be more stupid about certain areas than stupid people, if you see what I mean. I actually believe my little meek and rather silly cat has in some way more insight and understanding.
Now finally a note on the figure painting. I will attempt to draw before I paint the little monsters and dwarves I have been working on. It is an utter fuck to be unable to use my hand properly and well but no doubt over the coming weeks I will be howling out my frustrations, however I will persevere. I think I need a good and long electrical extension lead to light these figure as best I can, so that the ones I have painted can be photographed, not on a plain white background, but on the scenery I have been building for them. I also have a car model to work on, however I may well look into the whole ‘air-brush’ thing for that…. I’ve always fancied an air-brush.
OUCH....
Last Friday evening my anger (probably mainly at myself) boiled over the top of the pan, down its sides, and stained all the top of the cooker. This anger stemmed from a silly pointless remark. I will not go into the cause, other than to say this:
a) it had NOTHING to do with Vicky
b) It had been building up all week.
c) Well c is see below….
My Grandma was ninety last week and a huge family do had been planned for this last weekend. Due to weather issues, it was all rather up in the air if the thing would take place. I had decided about two or three weeks previous we would not attend. However huge storms of guilt raged in my brain. These storms were fuelled by winds of uncertainty as to whether the thing would take place at all. Also a stinking filthy sense of inadequacy and self loathing further helped to push me towards an explosion.
On Wednesday (the actual day of the birthday)I’d called my grandma. This went well, exepted for an unexpected (I didn’t know he was there!) call of
“goodbye Philip”-in a tone seemingly filled with sarcasm and… well I don’t know what, from my uncle. My uncle, a strange man, I’ll leave it at that.
These to words had played over and over in my mind like a paranoid lunatics tic. “do they all hate me?” “do they disbelieve me?” “…am I going mad here…?” etc. And so on Friday night I called up my folks had a silly …well not row, as it was mainly me shouting. This ‘discussion’ ended very abruptly due to being called ‘boring’ , I probably am went going through the shit-storm of hell that is a near psychotic-hyper-mania episode.
The red mist was the shad of dried blood. I paced for a few seconds then with my left hand (yep, kids, the left hand of my left-handedness) took a full swing at the bedroom door. Now I say swing, it was more of a karate style straight out from the body style attack then any kind of roundhouse effort. I chose (not that I was really debating with myself which of the doors in the house to assault!) this door as it had a towel hung over it that may have cushioned the blow. It didn’t. the pain in my hand elbow and shoulder was instantly extremely intense. But also a huge relief from the mental pain my brain was giving me. OOOOOOUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCHHHHH!!!!!! Ouch ouch…
After say twenty minutes of agony Vicky called NHS direct, and on there advice we got a taxi to the nearest casualty. Which was not yet experiencing its usual Friday night melt down but still seemed an utterly forlorn and dismal place. Blah blah, I got seen etc, after three x-rays they were still unsure if it was a brake. I hand broken my little finger years ago in a similar (although alcohol fuelled)event whist at college, however it had gone untreated properly. The x-rays I had last Friday did show up something but the doctors said it could be related to this previous injury. I can move all my fingers and had no pain in my wrist, which is apparently a good sign. So I was sent on my way with 2 ibuprofens and a crap sling. So, that is the story of how I damaged my hand. Since then much has happened and God alive its only Tuesday, however due to having to write this with my right hand, something I didn’t contemplate initially due to my right hand being a)useless b)actually surprisingly weak, I can’t go into detail. I can’t be arsed to go into much detail as it’s taken me nearly two hours to write this( although I have had a shower and breakfast as well). The best advice I found via google was on a site run for and by bouncers! Its most common and seemingly important advice is REST. Total rest of the hand now, will pay well for itself later on. So that is what I am doing. However frustrating it is I am not using my left hand for anything at all… so as I say this is not the longest blogspot.
One last thing. I have a new and profound respect for all accident victims who have to radically adapt there body us and out look after loosing limbs or becoming wheelchair bound. It is not just a physical thing. The anger and guilt riddle my brain at my own stupidity, but also utter general frustration with the stupidest of things (try making a sandwich, tying your laces or making a hot water bottle with one hand) is making me the eqivalate of, well, a bear with a fucking busted paw…
Peace out, see yaz on the flip side….
a) it had NOTHING to do with Vicky
b) It had been building up all week.
c) Well c is see below….
My Grandma was ninety last week and a huge family do had been planned for this last weekend. Due to weather issues, it was all rather up in the air if the thing would take place. I had decided about two or three weeks previous we would not attend. However huge storms of guilt raged in my brain. These storms were fuelled by winds of uncertainty as to whether the thing would take place at all. Also a stinking filthy sense of inadequacy and self loathing further helped to push me towards an explosion.
On Wednesday (the actual day of the birthday)I’d called my grandma. This went well, exepted for an unexpected (I didn’t know he was there!) call of
“goodbye Philip”-in a tone seemingly filled with sarcasm and… well I don’t know what, from my uncle. My uncle, a strange man, I’ll leave it at that.
These to words had played over and over in my mind like a paranoid lunatics tic. “do they all hate me?” “do they disbelieve me?” “…am I going mad here…?” etc. And so on Friday night I called up my folks had a silly …well not row, as it was mainly me shouting. This ‘discussion’ ended very abruptly due to being called ‘boring’ , I probably am went going through the shit-storm of hell that is a near psychotic-hyper-mania episode.
The red mist was the shad of dried blood. I paced for a few seconds then with my left hand (yep, kids, the left hand of my left-handedness) took a full swing at the bedroom door. Now I say swing, it was more of a karate style straight out from the body style attack then any kind of roundhouse effort. I chose (not that I was really debating with myself which of the doors in the house to assault!) this door as it had a towel hung over it that may have cushioned the blow. It didn’t. the pain in my hand elbow and shoulder was instantly extremely intense. But also a huge relief from the mental pain my brain was giving me. OOOOOOUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCHHHHH!!!!!! Ouch ouch…
After say twenty minutes of agony Vicky called NHS direct, and on there advice we got a taxi to the nearest casualty. Which was not yet experiencing its usual Friday night melt down but still seemed an utterly forlorn and dismal place. Blah blah, I got seen etc, after three x-rays they were still unsure if it was a brake. I hand broken my little finger years ago in a similar (although alcohol fuelled)event whist at college, however it had gone untreated properly. The x-rays I had last Friday did show up something but the doctors said it could be related to this previous injury. I can move all my fingers and had no pain in my wrist, which is apparently a good sign. So I was sent on my way with 2 ibuprofens and a crap sling. So, that is the story of how I damaged my hand. Since then much has happened and God alive its only Tuesday, however due to having to write this with my right hand, something I didn’t contemplate initially due to my right hand being a)useless b)actually surprisingly weak, I can’t go into detail. I can’t be arsed to go into much detail as it’s taken me nearly two hours to write this( although I have had a shower and breakfast as well). The best advice I found via google was on a site run for and by bouncers! Its most common and seemingly important advice is REST. Total rest of the hand now, will pay well for itself later on. So that is what I am doing. However frustrating it is I am not using my left hand for anything at all… so as I say this is not the longest blogspot.
One last thing. I have a new and profound respect for all accident victims who have to radically adapt there body us and out look after loosing limbs or becoming wheelchair bound. It is not just a physical thing. The anger and guilt riddle my brain at my own stupidity, but also utter general frustration with the stupidest of things (try making a sandwich, tying your laces or making a hot water bottle with one hand) is making me the eqivalate of, well, a bear with a fucking busted paw…
Peace out, see yaz on the flip side….
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
not real!
ONCE AGAIN NOT SPELL/GRAMMAR CHECKED ...so may well make little sense
This situation is not real. It didn’t really happen. Its so utterly fucking stupid that it couldn’t happen. So bare that in mind as you skimp over it ….
Lets say there’s this person just like me, and he claims a form of benefit that involves providing a note from the doctor. Lets say this person in the last couple of weeks has seen 3 different doctors and a student one. Blah-blah, cut the point, the person knows that the note from the doctor is due to run in the next week or so. Now this person is a little over consiensoius ( a polite way of saying rampantly paranoid) at present and decides to give the benefit providers a call. Now this call goes with out issue (as sometimes there can be huge boiling pulsating purple issues stinking up these types of calls)and seemingly simple advice is given: get an appointment with you doctor (that’ll be the GP then)` and ask him/her to give you an ‘overlapping’ sick note as they are having problems processing these things at present. So far so simple. A g.p’s appointment can be made for the same day if done as certain way and as the person would rather just get this thing out the way that is what is arranged, for 4:30pm. Now our hypothetical friend arrives at 4:25 to be told his appointment is now actually at 4:40pm. No problem he waits. We all wait to see the g.p, its part of life’s rich, joyess pattern. Our friend does however experience rampant paranoia not helped by a weird TV repeating on a 2 minute loop a story about a fat crap hospital Dj talking about ‘getting on’ in the music industry. This TV looping hell is inescapable as it has subtitles , and the pixies in the ears (the band on the ipod, not actual pixies inside the ears) can’t block that out. Anxiety levels are rapidly raised. Creeping terror also raises its moronic head. However just in time (as said fella was about to pull from his black trench coat and go on a murder rampage in the surgery…why has this never happened?!?!?) the appointment comes up on the ‘digital fuckin display’
Now this is it as I see it. Our ‘can’t-possibly-be-me’ person has a simple enough task. Obtain a slightly over lapping sick not and leave. However the dumb idiot can’t keep his mouth shut as he can see straight into the G.p’s computer. He sees it said bipolar and conversationally remarks that it is not now bipor but actually schizoid-affective disorder (or as I like to call it ‘another made up name for something no one really understands’)this sends g.p into some kind of verbal fit. He states that ‘that is not what I have here, and it was probably a locum who did that blahdee-fuckin-bullshitblah.
“no it was a consultant I saw last week, I doubt the letter has reached you yet, and to be honest I’m not here to chat shit right now, just get the sick-note and run”
“sick note? But yours hasn’t run out yet, I can’t give you overlapping sick notes that would be illegal and also I might be dead next week”….(yep he did actually say to the hypothetical me, that he might be fucking dead next week like WTF!?!?)
…”erm…right …erm well I phoned up this morning to find out about this from the benefit people, they told me to get one sent off as soon as possible as they are having problems (voice slightly getting louder)…and I’m only the messenger don’t shoot me!”
“no I’m sorry I can’t do it”
This exchange goes on like shit ping-pong but with bollocks words instead of a little lovely plastic ball ….FUCK IT is what hypherthetical man wants to scream as he pulls out his Mad Max style sawn off shot gun and blasts at close range round after earth-shaking ear bleeding round off buckshot into gap’s face. Is that as a littler strong.
Lets just say for the record this. The gp has told the patient the other doctor is not a consultant (he is) has given a wrong diagnosis(I’d never said it was 100% accurate yet)told me he might die next week, and finally actually called me…erm I mean our made up patient a schizophrenic. I feel I have the right to be a little wobberly on the anger management side. But … erm.. hypothetical patient, regains his composure, shakes the g.ps hand as a jester of good will and leaves.
Lets imagine the illness is a physical one.Lets say our man has a broken arm due to an acciendent involving swerving the fork lift truck to avoid as drunken clown chasing an escaped rabbit. Or a smashed leg gained by a falling piano. G.p says, no,no no its not a broken arm/smashed up leg, its piles. You’ve got piles, I might be dead next week and elvis lives in my cupboard at home. I feed him on bird seed, he hates it but I will not bow into his constant desire for speed-ball burger….
Would this happen,which part I hear you cry ,dearest of readers, for you are very dear to me and I love you all….Well the answer is, any/none or all of it. Because thatds how bonkers it all is.
Now all this occurs on Monday evening, and so lets get back to being not hypothetical but real. I planned at least a week ago a trip out on Tuesday to buy model making supplys for the Royal college. This is a mammoth task which I have been both dreading and looking forward to. I will not bore you tits right off with the details but it all goes very smoothly, with the aid of the trusty ipod and camera (slide show of pictures taken here). The only hiccup is getting on a wrong bus, finding and being at the wrong side of hyde park. Now there is no snow left in central London. None. However hyde park has held on to its snow and crossing that park was so utterly bleak and beautiful it rendered me emotional!! …the Royal College of Art shop is now a little cupboard, but they have every thing I need for 72.35% less money than anywhere else in London. This is all good but I might have worn my legs out a little, and the high I’m on from managing to deal with town trains people etc suddenly disappears when I get home and actually start thinking about the hypothetical situation with the G.p …. I begin to wonder if what he said was true…fuck. That coupled with a rather stressful situation regarding my grandmas 90th birthday leads to suicidal thoughts. Horrific mind pictures of fire and blood….
Which brings us bang up to date. It is 6:49 a.m so I reckon I got up at some point just before six. I did however go to sleep by 11:30pm so that’s a good amount of sleep and I am going to go modelmaking made today. And only leave the house to post off a letter. BRILLIANT!! … I do need a soldering iron though….
PART 2 …solar flares and texas chainsaw massacre.
Texas chainsaw massacre is a true classic of American cinema. It is horrific,menace filled terror show brilliance. It also features strange footage of solar flares in its title sequence, this is possibly a little known fact. The sun was quite active in the mid seventies when this film was made and its storms where blamed for many things. More on this later folks….
This situation is not real. It didn’t really happen. Its so utterly fucking stupid that it couldn’t happen. So bare that in mind as you skimp over it ….
Lets say there’s this person just like me, and he claims a form of benefit that involves providing a note from the doctor. Lets say this person in the last couple of weeks has seen 3 different doctors and a student one. Blah-blah, cut the point, the person knows that the note from the doctor is due to run in the next week or so. Now this person is a little over consiensoius ( a polite way of saying rampantly paranoid) at present and decides to give the benefit providers a call. Now this call goes with out issue (as sometimes there can be huge boiling pulsating purple issues stinking up these types of calls)and seemingly simple advice is given: get an appointment with you doctor (that’ll be the GP then)` and ask him/her to give you an ‘overlapping’ sick note as they are having problems processing these things at present. So far so simple. A g.p’s appointment can be made for the same day if done as certain way and as the person would rather just get this thing out the way that is what is arranged, for 4:30pm. Now our hypothetical friend arrives at 4:25 to be told his appointment is now actually at 4:40pm. No problem he waits. We all wait to see the g.p, its part of life’s rich, joyess pattern. Our friend does however experience rampant paranoia not helped by a weird TV repeating on a 2 minute loop a story about a fat crap hospital Dj talking about ‘getting on’ in the music industry. This TV looping hell is inescapable as it has subtitles , and the pixies in the ears (the band on the ipod, not actual pixies inside the ears) can’t block that out. Anxiety levels are rapidly raised. Creeping terror also raises its moronic head. However just in time (as said fella was about to pull from his black trench coat and go on a murder rampage in the surgery…why has this never happened?!?!?) the appointment comes up on the ‘digital fuckin display’
Now this is it as I see it. Our ‘can’t-possibly-be-me’ person has a simple enough task. Obtain a slightly over lapping sick not and leave. However the dumb idiot can’t keep his mouth shut as he can see straight into the G.p’s computer. He sees it said bipolar and conversationally remarks that it is not now bipor but actually schizoid-affective disorder (or as I like to call it ‘another made up name for something no one really understands’)this sends g.p into some kind of verbal fit. He states that ‘that is not what I have here, and it was probably a locum who did that blahdee-fuckin-bullshitblah.
“no it was a consultant I saw last week, I doubt the letter has reached you yet, and to be honest I’m not here to chat shit right now, just get the sick-note and run”
“sick note? But yours hasn’t run out yet, I can’t give you overlapping sick notes that would be illegal and also I might be dead next week”….(yep he did actually say to the hypothetical me, that he might be fucking dead next week like WTF!?!?)
…”erm…right …erm well I phoned up this morning to find out about this from the benefit people, they told me to get one sent off as soon as possible as they are having problems (voice slightly getting louder)…and I’m only the messenger don’t shoot me!”
“no I’m sorry I can’t do it”
This exchange goes on like shit ping-pong but with bollocks words instead of a little lovely plastic ball ….FUCK IT is what hypherthetical man wants to scream as he pulls out his Mad Max style sawn off shot gun and blasts at close range round after earth-shaking ear bleeding round off buckshot into gap’s face. Is that as a littler strong.
Lets just say for the record this. The gp has told the patient the other doctor is not a consultant (he is) has given a wrong diagnosis(I’d never said it was 100% accurate yet)told me he might die next week, and finally actually called me…erm I mean our made up patient a schizophrenic. I feel I have the right to be a little wobberly on the anger management side. But … erm.. hypothetical patient, regains his composure, shakes the g.ps hand as a jester of good will and leaves.
Lets imagine the illness is a physical one.Lets say our man has a broken arm due to an acciendent involving swerving the fork lift truck to avoid as drunken clown chasing an escaped rabbit. Or a smashed leg gained by a falling piano. G.p says, no,no no its not a broken arm/smashed up leg, its piles. You’ve got piles, I might be dead next week and elvis lives in my cupboard at home. I feed him on bird seed, he hates it but I will not bow into his constant desire for speed-ball burger….
Would this happen,which part I hear you cry ,dearest of readers, for you are very dear to me and I love you all….Well the answer is, any/none or all of it. Because thatds how bonkers it all is.
Now all this occurs on Monday evening, and so lets get back to being not hypothetical but real. I planned at least a week ago a trip out on Tuesday to buy model making supplys for the Royal college. This is a mammoth task which I have been both dreading and looking forward to. I will not bore you tits right off with the details but it all goes very smoothly, with the aid of the trusty ipod and camera (slide show of pictures taken here). The only hiccup is getting on a wrong bus, finding and being at the wrong side of hyde park. Now there is no snow left in central London. None. However hyde park has held on to its snow and crossing that park was so utterly bleak and beautiful it rendered me emotional!! …the Royal College of Art shop is now a little cupboard, but they have every thing I need for 72.35% less money than anywhere else in London. This is all good but I might have worn my legs out a little, and the high I’m on from managing to deal with town trains people etc suddenly disappears when I get home and actually start thinking about the hypothetical situation with the G.p …. I begin to wonder if what he said was true…fuck. That coupled with a rather stressful situation regarding my grandmas 90th birthday leads to suicidal thoughts. Horrific mind pictures of fire and blood….
Which brings us bang up to date. It is 6:49 a.m so I reckon I got up at some point just before six. I did however go to sleep by 11:30pm so that’s a good amount of sleep and I am going to go modelmaking made today. And only leave the house to post off a letter. BRILLIANT!! … I do need a soldering iron though….
PART 2 …solar flares and texas chainsaw massacre.
Texas chainsaw massacre is a true classic of American cinema. It is horrific,menace filled terror show brilliance. It also features strange footage of solar flares in its title sequence, this is possibly a little known fact. The sun was quite active in the mid seventies when this film was made and its storms where blamed for many things. More on this later folks….
Monday, January 11, 2010
3.a.m.
WARNING THIS BLOG ENTRY IS UNEDITED AND MAY MAKE UTTERLY NO SENSE!
03:39 a.m
So its half 3 in the a.m and I am woken by exploding night terrors burning fires, the end of the world. Olazapine is a made up drug. Either it doesn’t work for me or I am imunne to its powers of ‘have a good nights sleep’ effect. Mind you I did go to sleep hours eslrier than usual. On Vickys behalf I had hot milk woth all the trimmings and went up the wooden stairs to Bedfordshire before it was 11 p.m Events rapidly overtake one an other and this horrid stinking wet cold weather is to blame in more than one way. I lost my temper very rapidly and without any warning last night. I lost it like I don’t remember losing it for a long long time. Maybe that’s why I’m up at this time… Also I am reducing the amount of cloplazapapmaam or wtf ever they are called so seem to be way more irritalble. ISN’t it fucked?? The p.doc is happy to stick you on a drug for months that causes diebeites ,massive weight gsain, shrinking monkey brains and it’s other many side effects seem worse than any of the favours it has to offer, but, ween you of the stuff that seems to actually help. Now I don’t mind being addicted to a drug. A legal drug. I’ve smoked for too long anyway. OOooh jesus god alive and all the saints and angels I feel very very bad and low. At least, due to low cloud cover its not dark outside. Its orange. This is just the ramblings of a lunatic. Affected by the cycle of the moon the victim falls into a strange pattern.
“hows your sleep?”-a standed phyc-docts question. Answer: totally lacking in any pattern or power. I love the night anyway. I hate it when the n light starts coming, although lately just that has been enough to make me feel less mental. My sicks itchy like the old velvet underground song. Its ‘cos of the weather. But it feels like its ‘cos its 4 in the fucking morning and you csan see why I’m so fucking angry….
I have snippets of different early cure songs slapping about my head walls.
I have ideas so wrong and mad and bad I dare not write them down. I have a chance to see family members I haven’t seen for yesars and years and years but am so safriad I just can’t face it. I can’t face anything with out a`fight with my own brain. I can’t watch tv or listen to the radio. These things quickly become noise of devils. Whrn will I start getting better? It’s been weeks now, to long to be going through all this squalled mind fuck filth …. Like that (it’s a modern mash up I think) over-and-over-and-over-and-over. Blah blah blah …. Whaat can you do at 4a.m other that write and write. I’m not worried anymore about sticking this on the internet. Nobody reads it. HAHaa….oh I need anti-itching cream, a bath of it…
Every thing is really good then every thing is really bad then it all goes good again and I have no control over any any any of it. I will sit here and write because doing that is better than sitting here doing what? What can you do at 04.04a.m? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKK…….
I’m gonna writer about something other then me. Im’ going to write about the last truly great film I saw. It is called DEAD SNOW. It is a Norwegian horror-comedy. It has zombie-nazis and great references to all the old gore-films. In the early eighties when the VHS palyer first came out, the big Hollywood production houses were scared of it. They did not release there films on it. This is why, back then, the strange dirty video rental corner shops where filled with all kinds of ‘nasties’ because it was the smaller independent and forgin production houses that were putting out filmds on VHS. Dead Snow is on of thoughs. A true video nastie. And it loves being one. At some point (it was before scream came along)… could have been as early as ‘the evil dead’ grimey seedy video nasties started making references to other grimey seed video nasties. You will see film posters for other genre films on the walls in genre fims. The victims will be watching something on the tv….like I think nancy in ‘nightmare on elm street’ is watching the evil dead on tv whilst trying to stay awake.
Its funny and more than a little warped I think , that I’d put this kind of film on to zone out to more than any other. But I know why I do. I do because the sicker, bloodier the film, the more fun the film makers had making it. Don’t get me wrong, there is a line. ‘last house on the left’ ‘I spit on your grave’ ‘etc, the real explotation stuff is hard to\ watch. I don’t think its this type I’m on about. I’,m on about the self aware silly shockers ……
This is just fucking therapy now. Don’t bother reading it, I’m probably the only person who will read it and I’M only reading it cos I’m writing it….
4:20 a.m
What shall I do?
03:39 a.m
So its half 3 in the a.m and I am woken by exploding night terrors burning fires, the end of the world. Olazapine is a made up drug. Either it doesn’t work for me or I am imunne to its powers of ‘have a good nights sleep’ effect. Mind you I did go to sleep hours eslrier than usual. On Vickys behalf I had hot milk woth all the trimmings and went up the wooden stairs to Bedfordshire before it was 11 p.m Events rapidly overtake one an other and this horrid stinking wet cold weather is to blame in more than one way. I lost my temper very rapidly and without any warning last night. I lost it like I don’t remember losing it for a long long time. Maybe that’s why I’m up at this time… Also I am reducing the amount of cloplazapapmaam or wtf ever they are called so seem to be way more irritalble. ISN’t it fucked?? The p.doc is happy to stick you on a drug for months that causes diebeites ,massive weight gsain, shrinking monkey brains and it’s other many side effects seem worse than any of the favours it has to offer, but, ween you of the stuff that seems to actually help. Now I don’t mind being addicted to a drug. A legal drug. I’ve smoked for too long anyway. OOooh jesus god alive and all the saints and angels I feel very very bad and low. At least, due to low cloud cover its not dark outside. Its orange. This is just the ramblings of a lunatic. Affected by the cycle of the moon the victim falls into a strange pattern.
“hows your sleep?”-a standed phyc-docts question. Answer: totally lacking in any pattern or power. I love the night anyway. I hate it when the n light starts coming, although lately just that has been enough to make me feel less mental. My sicks itchy like the old velvet underground song. Its ‘cos of the weather. But it feels like its ‘cos its 4 in the fucking morning and you csan see why I’m so fucking angry….
I have snippets of different early cure songs slapping about my head walls.
I have ideas so wrong and mad and bad I dare not write them down. I have a chance to see family members I haven’t seen for yesars and years and years but am so safriad I just can’t face it. I can’t face anything with out a`fight with my own brain. I can’t watch tv or listen to the radio. These things quickly become noise of devils. Whrn will I start getting better? It’s been weeks now, to long to be going through all this squalled mind fuck filth …. Like that (it’s a modern mash up I think) over-and-over-and-over-and-over. Blah blah blah …. Whaat can you do at 4a.m other that write and write. I’m not worried anymore about sticking this on the internet. Nobody reads it. HAHaa….oh I need anti-itching cream, a bath of it…
Every thing is really good then every thing is really bad then it all goes good again and I have no control over any any any of it. I will sit here and write because doing that is better than sitting here doing what? What can you do at 04.04a.m? FUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKK…….
I’m gonna writer about something other then me. Im’ going to write about the last truly great film I saw. It is called DEAD SNOW. It is a Norwegian horror-comedy. It has zombie-nazis and great references to all the old gore-films. In the early eighties when the VHS palyer first came out, the big Hollywood production houses were scared of it. They did not release there films on it. This is why, back then, the strange dirty video rental corner shops where filled with all kinds of ‘nasties’ because it was the smaller independent and forgin production houses that were putting out filmds on VHS. Dead Snow is on of thoughs. A true video nastie. And it loves being one. At some point (it was before scream came along)… could have been as early as ‘the evil dead’ grimey seedy video nasties started making references to other grimey seed video nasties. You will see film posters for other genre films on the walls in genre fims. The victims will be watching something on the tv….like I think nancy in ‘nightmare on elm street’ is watching the evil dead on tv whilst trying to stay awake.
Its funny and more than a little warped I think , that I’d put this kind of film on to zone out to more than any other. But I know why I do. I do because the sicker, bloodier the film, the more fun the film makers had making it. Don’t get me wrong, there is a line. ‘last house on the left’ ‘I spit on your grave’ ‘etc, the real explotation stuff is hard to\ watch. I don’t think its this type I’m on about. I’,m on about the self aware silly shockers ……
This is just fucking therapy now. Don’t bother reading it, I’m probably the only person who will read it and I’M only reading it cos I’m writing it….
4:20 a.m
What shall I do?
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Roast duck legs for tea....
Paranoid
I have suddenly become extremely paranoid about this. This Blog. It has come to my attention by way of a whisper and a nod and a wink that it is a bit risky. The phrase ‘their firewall’ has been made aware to me. I am therefore considering stopping the whole thing. This of course is evil insidious raging paranoia of the worst kind the creeps, with the skill of the pink panther (the dimond thief, not the cartoon cat) into your brain and will not leave you alone.
I had a similar short burst of weirdness in the supermarket this morning. I was`not mentally prepared and all there way there (about a ten minute walk) I was getting oddly nervous. How does this work? Where does it come from? Why can’t the brain be controlled better?
FIGHT IT! Fuck the idiot thoughts that seem to not actually be your own….
I have an vague knowledge of how this internet thing works and I imagine that if these gibberings where a problem to anyone I would be made aware before they cut us off!! See? Paranoia!!!
However on a plus side, THE plus side after weeks of little over 3.5 hours of sleep and a maddening energy that controls me not the other way round, I finally (possibly done to my love being here all the lovely long weekend) fell asleep on the settee (couch for the poshers!) for over an hour, and last night had a good six hours solid sleep. Good fuckin Christ alive sleep is a healer of all kinds of mental soups. MENTAL SOUP!!! Hahahahah….. oh dear what a lot of cake mix…...
Don’t worry dearest readers this shit happens all the time, people say silly things and people don’t half the time know only have the time what on earth it is their on about. Why? …Don’t ask me I’m nuts HAHAHAH….lovely roast duck for tea yippeeeeeee!
Also please excuse any bad spelling due to the hurried nature of this post, why? You ask.
Well the old paranoia was playing up in my brain so much I thought if I threw it out of my my brain, through my fingers onto the keyboard and out onto the webnetinterblog blah-blah, the paranoia my well go away…. It has.
That’s it for now… I have a bunch of monsters to paint!
I have suddenly become extremely paranoid about this. This Blog. It has come to my attention by way of a whisper and a nod and a wink that it is a bit risky. The phrase ‘their firewall’ has been made aware to me. I am therefore considering stopping the whole thing. This of course is evil insidious raging paranoia of the worst kind the creeps, with the skill of the pink panther (the dimond thief, not the cartoon cat) into your brain and will not leave you alone.
I had a similar short burst of weirdness in the supermarket this morning. I was`not mentally prepared and all there way there (about a ten minute walk) I was getting oddly nervous. How does this work? Where does it come from? Why can’t the brain be controlled better?
FIGHT IT! Fuck the idiot thoughts that seem to not actually be your own….
I have an vague knowledge of how this internet thing works and I imagine that if these gibberings where a problem to anyone I would be made aware before they cut us off!! See? Paranoia!!!
However on a plus side, THE plus side after weeks of little over 3.5 hours of sleep and a maddening energy that controls me not the other way round, I finally (possibly done to my love being here all the lovely long weekend) fell asleep on the settee (couch for the poshers!) for over an hour, and last night had a good six hours solid sleep. Good fuckin Christ alive sleep is a healer of all kinds of mental soups. MENTAL SOUP!!! Hahahahah….. oh dear what a lot of cake mix…...
Don’t worry dearest readers this shit happens all the time, people say silly things and people don’t half the time know only have the time what on earth it is their on about. Why? …Don’t ask me I’m nuts HAHAHAH….lovely roast duck for tea yippeeeeeee!
Also please excuse any bad spelling due to the hurried nature of this post, why? You ask.
Well the old paranoia was playing up in my brain so much I thought if I threw it out of my my brain, through my fingers onto the keyboard and out onto the webnetinterblog blah-blah, the paranoia my well go away…. It has.
That’s it for now… I have a bunch of monsters to paint!
Saturday, January 09, 2010
on being mad part 884532
Written at 6a.m Saturday Morning (of this much I am sure.)
Well yesterday I to see the doctor. The Big Cheese. The man with the plan, the governor, the God father of all things mental! And quite frankly Wow, I have a new hero. Well that might be taking it abit far but his utter candid honesty, no bull shit approach was such a breath of fresh air. Don’t let me get carried away here he’s not fuckin perfect, far from it. It’s just nice to see one who treats you as a human on equal standing rather than a body of fat and bone that needs pumping up with enough drugs you don’t mind day time tv….
However the big news is that my diognosis my be different, from what it has been for years! Yes folks I ain’t no manic depressive ‘i’m ‘schizoaffective disorder’ STOP Please don’t see the word schizo and think schizophrenic. As I am of the understanding these two diagnoses are TOTALLY different.
You see these shrinks have a special language they use to confuse the patients and then later the same day most likely confuse themselves. In order to be a good head doctor you have to come over as if you know what you’re on about. Now I ain’t sayin these guys don’t know what they’re on about but sometimes a use of a fancy word here and there helps them a)feel secure in what they are saying b)confuse and amaze the patient into the understanding that the doc knows best.
Example: a person with bi-polar (me up until yesterday, possibly!!) will experience Mania. Google it. A person with schizoaffective disorder may experience hyper-mania. Now as I see it in the English laugage ‘hyper’ means ‘more/more intense ….you catch my drift here buddy? However in the arcane world of phyciastry Hyper means the opposite. Hyper-mania is not as severe as straight up mania. SEE? ….no? well yes, it is confusing. It confuses me leading to anxiety which in turn irritates the condition. It is a murky noir world, this world of head-shrinks, that’s for sure!
And so I have symptoms of both bi-polar, which are rapid cycling mood swings coupled with aural… nope that’s not the word, a-aural (?) WTF ever, I hear, sometimes voices, Voices and growls and shit like that. People with straight up bi-polar don’t get this. Exept they do! But their voices are different…. Oh fuck me sideways its all crazy ahahaha!!!!
A few other things I remember of the intense half-hour or so I spend with this beautifully-minded man was his need to find out from me the pros and cons of digital dicta-phones, and his odd relationship with the notion of the occult. I saw this because at one point we were speaking of this subject and he said he ‘didn’t believe in it’ , how ever later he used the phrase ‘if I had a crystal ball’ . Now in my book the mention of the idea of having a crystal ball suggests prophecy. A classic occult practice. Read into this what you will, I personally think these phrases slip into the English language then jump out and bite us on the ass/arse!
Also a print on the wall was so utterly distracting as it had a frog, a monkey, a naked woman, an amazing waterfall, a native American Indian fella and some kind of magic plant in it1 This kept destracting my already distracted mind, and so I have blank areas in my mind of the conversation with the doctor. Next time I will take a Dictaphone!
So that’s that …confused? I am, but then I’m half mad, half the time, making me fully mad for quarter of the time …. Beep-beep.
Anyway apart from the appointment itself the business of going to the hospital and getting back totally feckled up my legs! Yep I have the legs of an unhealthy 70 year old!... this is my theory. It was a maximum of 2 degrees yesterday, bloody bloody cold for sure. I wore a tee-shirt a shirt, a hoody and and a thick coat. As well as a hat a scarf and gloves. My Upper body was fine. My lower half had on the single layer of jeans. I walked skidded and slipped from Brixton high street to Lambeth hospital. Probably a twenty minute walk, I also the walked back down streatham high road as I need very badly to look for bargains in second hand shops! I diddn’t really notice at the time but I reckon my legs were actually very cold. So I gets home and fall fast asleep on the settee (a blood rare event at present) woken by the phone I get up to answer it only to find the old legs aren’t even attempting to work!!!
Now whilst in Brixton/streatham I saw many poorly dressed people I saw a man in a tee-shirt and thin hoodie! What the fuck they felt like later that day is beyond me…Moral of this story, when its cold dress up warm or your legs might pack up.
FINALLY …..DRUGS I have possibly become addicticted to the drug that stops me being ill. WHY THE FUCK is it FINE to take lithium for years but not clorazalazaplaziopam or what ever its called?!?!? The stuff works man! Whats the problem?
Right I’m off to read a bit more of Crowley’s book 4 ….. see yaz….
Well yesterday I to see the doctor. The Big Cheese. The man with the plan, the governor, the God father of all things mental! And quite frankly Wow, I have a new hero. Well that might be taking it abit far but his utter candid honesty, no bull shit approach was such a breath of fresh air. Don’t let me get carried away here he’s not fuckin perfect, far from it. It’s just nice to see one who treats you as a human on equal standing rather than a body of fat and bone that needs pumping up with enough drugs you don’t mind day time tv….
However the big news is that my diognosis my be different, from what it has been for years! Yes folks I ain’t no manic depressive ‘i’m ‘schizoaffective disorder’ STOP Please don’t see the word schizo and think schizophrenic. As I am of the understanding these two diagnoses are TOTALLY different.
You see these shrinks have a special language they use to confuse the patients and then later the same day most likely confuse themselves. In order to be a good head doctor you have to come over as if you know what you’re on about. Now I ain’t sayin these guys don’t know what they’re on about but sometimes a use of a fancy word here and there helps them a)feel secure in what they are saying b)confuse and amaze the patient into the understanding that the doc knows best.
Example: a person with bi-polar (me up until yesterday, possibly!!) will experience Mania. Google it. A person with schizoaffective disorder may experience hyper-mania. Now as I see it in the English laugage ‘hyper’ means ‘more/more intense ….you catch my drift here buddy? However in the arcane world of phyciastry Hyper means the opposite. Hyper-mania is not as severe as straight up mania. SEE? ….no? well yes, it is confusing. It confuses me leading to anxiety which in turn irritates the condition. It is a murky noir world, this world of head-shrinks, that’s for sure!
And so I have symptoms of both bi-polar, which are rapid cycling mood swings coupled with aural… nope that’s not the word, a-aural (?) WTF ever, I hear, sometimes voices, Voices and growls and shit like that. People with straight up bi-polar don’t get this. Exept they do! But their voices are different…. Oh fuck me sideways its all crazy ahahaha!!!!
A few other things I remember of the intense half-hour or so I spend with this beautifully-minded man was his need to find out from me the pros and cons of digital dicta-phones, and his odd relationship with the notion of the occult. I saw this because at one point we were speaking of this subject and he said he ‘didn’t believe in it’ , how ever later he used the phrase ‘if I had a crystal ball’ . Now in my book the mention of the idea of having a crystal ball suggests prophecy. A classic occult practice. Read into this what you will, I personally think these phrases slip into the English language then jump out and bite us on the ass/arse!
Also a print on the wall was so utterly distracting as it had a frog, a monkey, a naked woman, an amazing waterfall, a native American Indian fella and some kind of magic plant in it1 This kept destracting my already distracted mind, and so I have blank areas in my mind of the conversation with the doctor. Next time I will take a Dictaphone!
So that’s that …confused? I am, but then I’m half mad, half the time, making me fully mad for quarter of the time …. Beep-beep.
Anyway apart from the appointment itself the business of going to the hospital and getting back totally feckled up my legs! Yep I have the legs of an unhealthy 70 year old!... this is my theory. It was a maximum of 2 degrees yesterday, bloody bloody cold for sure. I wore a tee-shirt a shirt, a hoody and and a thick coat. As well as a hat a scarf and gloves. My Upper body was fine. My lower half had on the single layer of jeans. I walked skidded and slipped from Brixton high street to Lambeth hospital. Probably a twenty minute walk, I also the walked back down streatham high road as I need very badly to look for bargains in second hand shops! I diddn’t really notice at the time but I reckon my legs were actually very cold. So I gets home and fall fast asleep on the settee (a blood rare event at present) woken by the phone I get up to answer it only to find the old legs aren’t even attempting to work!!!
Now whilst in Brixton/streatham I saw many poorly dressed people I saw a man in a tee-shirt and thin hoodie! What the fuck they felt like later that day is beyond me…Moral of this story, when its cold dress up warm or your legs might pack up.
FINALLY …..DRUGS I have possibly become addicticted to the drug that stops me being ill. WHY THE FUCK is it FINE to take lithium for years but not clorazalazaplaziopam or what ever its called?!?!? The stuff works man! Whats the problem?
Right I’m off to read a bit more of Crowley’s book 4 ….. see yaz….
Thursday, January 07, 2010
all things DVD ,,,,,and other stories
My Father doesn’t own a DVD player….
I live about 250 miles south of my Mother, Father, Sister and her two spoggles. My folks live in the tiny village of Ricall off the A19 (I think) between Selby and York. A lovely if somewhat (actually only in the winter) bleak part of God’s own county. Is it County or Country, anyway its Yorkshire. Yes I was born up there, is Sheffield, and I am extremely proud to be a Yorkshireman. My child will be a Londoner born. Which I think is something to be equally proud of, but, I’m afraid very,very different from being Yorkshire born and bred. Not to worry though am`sure the little blighter will turn out fine, and not at all like me who is as mad as two boxes of frogs singing about cheeseburgers to the tune of some random punk song ….WHAT??
Gone off the beaten track I have, so back to Yorkshire. Ooh pre the york to selby main road (what ever its called, Riccall had a crazy old railway bridge, I recall.. I recall Riccall ….*burp*
Anyway my folk live at the end of a littler tiny winding road with nothing beyond them but great flat fields. The romantic notion of Yorkshire is that of the Dales but a lot of its as flat as a pancake. I only say this so you are under no illusion that I was brought up in some idyllic stonewall filled james herriot style village frolicking about in water falls and shit. Nope it was all about Selby and York, Selby being back then at least, an utter shit hole, and in complete contrast York being a global tourist destination due to the shambles, the minster and the mickle gate run. Thatcher fucked Selby. She ripped its heart out. A community so reliant on one industry having that industry taken away from it is bound to be messed up for a while… Now where’s all this leading I hear you as you wonder about not finishing it and going back to that teapot you were bidding on, on Ebay. Its leading to this MY FOLKS DON’T OWN A DVD PLAYER!! Amazing! They have a TV a family of four could live in , and digital so they get all the free channels, and they do have a mac-book, but come on man that tv was built for the cinema experience. And so for my mothe’rs birthday I’ve told my dad he MUST purchase a DVD player. Now I am a bit of a film buff and, lets say have the technology to ‘lend’ them, long term many many great films however a bit of advice to them would I believe, at this point be rather helpful, so, purely for my dad, who I know is an avid reader of this dribble, is a little guide to the getting of a cheap and cheerful DVD player….
1) make sure it can play DIVX dvds.(CLICK HERE FOR MORE INFO)
2) …there isn’t a 2, that’s it!
No I’d say ARGOS was your best bet, but even a larger supermarket.
NOTE: supermarket??!?!? Fucking surely those places should be called satan’s evil hell holes. I believe that the lights in those places are set at a certain frequency to do something to the brain. The flicker frequency in lights is known to cause fits and headaches so why not a mild feeling of ‘yes I do need two of everything I came here to only buy one of’
people become zombies in those ‘temples to consumerisum’ wandering around like that film day of the dead, which is quick apt really, being that that film is a wry cynical take on the notion of the American shapping-mal/shopping-mall…. WHAT EVER!
Anyway back to DVD players. I EMPLORE YOU FATHER !!!! you need, want, and once own will, dearly love (especially with that whopper of a TV!) this little slab of technical wizardry.
NOW remember go get a DVD player with DIVX today!!
I live about 250 miles south of my Mother, Father, Sister and her two spoggles. My folks live in the tiny village of Ricall off the A19 (I think) between Selby and York. A lovely if somewhat (actually only in the winter) bleak part of God’s own county. Is it County or Country, anyway its Yorkshire. Yes I was born up there, is Sheffield, and I am extremely proud to be a Yorkshireman. My child will be a Londoner born. Which I think is something to be equally proud of, but, I’m afraid very,very different from being Yorkshire born and bred. Not to worry though am`sure the little blighter will turn out fine, and not at all like me who is as mad as two boxes of frogs singing about cheeseburgers to the tune of some random punk song ….WHAT??
Gone off the beaten track I have, so back to Yorkshire. Ooh pre the york to selby main road (what ever its called, Riccall had a crazy old railway bridge, I recall.. I recall Riccall ….*burp*
Anyway my folk live at the end of a littler tiny winding road with nothing beyond them but great flat fields. The romantic notion of Yorkshire is that of the Dales but a lot of its as flat as a pancake. I only say this so you are under no illusion that I was brought up in some idyllic stonewall filled james herriot style village frolicking about in water falls and shit. Nope it was all about Selby and York, Selby being back then at least, an utter shit hole, and in complete contrast York being a global tourist destination due to the shambles, the minster and the mickle gate run. Thatcher fucked Selby. She ripped its heart out. A community so reliant on one industry having that industry taken away from it is bound to be messed up for a while… Now where’s all this leading I hear you as you wonder about not finishing it and going back to that teapot you were bidding on, on Ebay. Its leading to this MY FOLKS DON’T OWN A DVD PLAYER!! Amazing! They have a TV a family of four could live in , and digital so they get all the free channels, and they do have a mac-book, but come on man that tv was built for the cinema experience. And so for my mothe’rs birthday I’ve told my dad he MUST purchase a DVD player. Now I am a bit of a film buff and, lets say have the technology to ‘lend’ them, long term many many great films however a bit of advice to them would I believe, at this point be rather helpful, so, purely for my dad, who I know is an avid reader of this dribble, is a little guide to the getting of a cheap and cheerful DVD player….
1) make sure it can play DIVX dvds.(CLICK HERE FOR MORE INFO)
2) …there isn’t a 2, that’s it!
No I’d say ARGOS was your best bet, but even a larger supermarket.
NOTE: supermarket??!?!? Fucking surely those places should be called satan’s evil hell holes. I believe that the lights in those places are set at a certain frequency to do something to the brain. The flicker frequency in lights is known to cause fits and headaches so why not a mild feeling of ‘yes I do need two of everything I came here to only buy one of’
people become zombies in those ‘temples to consumerisum’ wandering around like that film day of the dead, which is quick apt really, being that that film is a wry cynical take on the notion of the American shapping-mal/shopping-mall…. WHAT EVER!
Anyway back to DVD players. I EMPLORE YOU FATHER !!!! you need, want, and once own will, dearly love (especially with that whopper of a TV!) this little slab of technical wizardry.
NOW remember go get a DVD player with DIVX today!!
Wednesday, January 06, 2010
The Day after twelfth night.
The Day after twelfth night.
I’m not sure of the date, or in fact the day. What I am sure of is today is the day twelfth night. Well actually due to the fact that it is 6a.m It could almost still be twelfth night, but i think twelfth night finishes at midnight. There are various theories on the whole subject. So last night we took down the decorations as it is not only bad luck to keep them up but also it’s like inviting evil spirits into your house for the year. Another tradition is to eat all the Christmas food up, so I roasted the last few nuts in honey, ate a Christmas pudding and had a few chocolates. The thing is gifts, I hope, are different from actual food stuffs bought in special for Christmas. You see this is Christmas, a Christmas thing. I was going to go all google just then to find out the Occult significance of twelfth-night and how it fits in with the equinoxes but I‘d rather not go nears that web for information of that type as the web is full of unreliable nutters. The strange time of post Christmas post new year finished last night with the total removal of all things Christmassy from our house. Well I say removal, we put it all in a box in the cupboard…
My mental health seems greatly improved and I have slept well for the last few days. Up until tonight/last night. I awoke at 4:42 according to the clock and lay there listening to the hellish utter silence. That turned into the sound of the blood rushing around in my body, and that caused, I,m sure, my blood pressure to rise…. So I got up. Let it be said now for the record that there are not many people left that I actually really like. By that I mean(and this is only because of the rapid-cycling manic depression, I’m not sure it’s all the time)like enough to spend hours of my time with. In fact I can only really think of 3 and one of those is not even in the same continent!
People, at every turn of event, rile irritate infuriate me. I have a very very short fuse!. Although with that also comes (as I think I have mentioned before) the seeming ability to talk to anyone! So I suppose you could-put me down as your ‘A’ typical nutter who will A)talk to you but B)may lose his temper very quickly and ramble like a nutter.
IN OTHER NEWS
It’s snowing… oohohooohhoho stop the clocks-OH MY GOD!!!!! I think I feel this way-because of the ‘blanket coverage’ (see what I did there) of the snow on the news. I come from Yorkshire where for 4 months of the year we have snow every day. Up there they also have machines called gritters. Annoying to get stuck behind but generally a good thing. Here in London gritters do not exist. And the humans in-charge of putting grit out don't know how to do it either. I have been noticing a gradual rising in the number of the big yellow grit bins around the streets int her last few days. I notice this but I do not notice actual salty grit on the pavements. Last evening for exercise and to pay a cheque for the lovely Vicky in, I walked to Balham. From Streatham to Balham via Tooting Common. I changed my ipod by putting every song/artist with the word strange in my itunes into it.
NOTE: IPOD I love you… my music collection that exists on hard drive and contains 47.2 days of music. That’s 13414 tunes. Some of which are two hour mixes. Putting the word strange in the search gives me 39 tunes, or 2.7 hours of music, easily enough to get to Balham on.
As I walk I notice there’s bright new yellow grit boxes…. But no grit. I mean around the boxes there is grit, but the pavements themselves are grit free. Odd. But not unpredictable. London can’t handle snow. I love it and god willing our Vicky will be staying home today HURRAH!!!!!! (a pregnant lady should not go out in such conditions) …although its not feet and feet of snow as some predicted.
SO that’s my mental health and the snow covered. Just to go back to my mental health, I think I am getting slowly better all together. Although my short term memory is shot up to fuck I feel generally less out of control(LINK TO OUT OF CONTOL CHEMICA BROThersd).I feel both more and less my self. More, because I seem a bit more in control, but less because the drugs A B (likens to drug info) remove a bit of my soul and replaced it with paper mache mush. The gray mush the paper mache is when it’s still wet, which looks actually a little like brain matter….
FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT I utterly fucking hate hate hate this sodding wanking illness. However there is the plus side. A creative bomb that has laid dormant in my mind for far to long has finally exploded releasing this web blog and a million tin men and places for them to stand and drawings and paintings and films etc…
Patrick Bateman is my favourite fictional psycho serial killer. Well not my favourite, that would be the man they call leatherface (although I think really his name should be the man who wears the mask of human skin) If I had to do a top five, I couldn’t at the moment because I can’t think that hard. Bateman, however, may not have been a killer at all. It is suggested that the whole thing was in his mind. Anyway the reason I like him so much is his coldness, his lack of human empathy. His narcasisim is paramount to his character. It is at the core of his ‘non-being’. Also I love his love of the business card. Something I’ve always loved myself. The business card. Pivotal in the wooing of my love, but that’s another story…
You see does it make you uneasy to read that I am a big fan of fictional serial killers. I must admit it troubles me a little, but I live with it. The reason I mention the whole Bateman thing is his raging fury with people. I relate to that. Obviously not to the extent of wanting to kill them, its just I feel, when unwell like this, my fury rises with scary speed when I am confronted by a situation I can’t fix/figure out/deal with. This fury takes over and most times I shout. I keep it in check most the time but I worry about it. Worrying about this of course causes me stress… you can see a pattern emerging here can’t you….
Well time as passed Vicky has got up and gone to work, I walked her to the station due to the snow, but all trains are running so she’s not staying at home… shame.
….and finally I’ve set up a ustream live snow watch streaming brilliance of love and joy, sorry for these ramblings…. Peace out monkey nuts….
P.S Don’t worry about all that serial killer stuff, i’m only mucking about.... i’ve never been ‘creepy crawling’ and have no idea who Ed Gein is.... ;)
I’m not sure of the date, or in fact the day. What I am sure of is today is the day twelfth night. Well actually due to the fact that it is 6a.m It could almost still be twelfth night, but i think twelfth night finishes at midnight. There are various theories on the whole subject. So last night we took down the decorations as it is not only bad luck to keep them up but also it’s like inviting evil spirits into your house for the year. Another tradition is to eat all the Christmas food up, so I roasted the last few nuts in honey, ate a Christmas pudding and had a few chocolates. The thing is gifts, I hope, are different from actual food stuffs bought in special for Christmas. You see this is Christmas, a Christmas thing. I was going to go all google just then to find out the Occult significance of twelfth-night and how it fits in with the equinoxes but I‘d rather not go nears that web for information of that type as the web is full of unreliable nutters. The strange time of post Christmas post new year finished last night with the total removal of all things Christmassy from our house. Well I say removal, we put it all in a box in the cupboard…
My mental health seems greatly improved and I have slept well for the last few days. Up until tonight/last night. I awoke at 4:42 according to the clock and lay there listening to the hellish utter silence. That turned into the sound of the blood rushing around in my body, and that caused, I,m sure, my blood pressure to rise…. So I got up. Let it be said now for the record that there are not many people left that I actually really like. By that I mean(and this is only because of the rapid-cycling manic depression, I’m not sure it’s all the time)like enough to spend hours of my time with. In fact I can only really think of 3 and one of those is not even in the same continent!
People, at every turn of event, rile irritate infuriate me. I have a very very short fuse!. Although with that also comes (as I think I have mentioned before) the seeming ability to talk to anyone! So I suppose you could-put me down as your ‘A’ typical nutter who will A)talk to you but B)may lose his temper very quickly and ramble like a nutter.
IN OTHER NEWS
It’s snowing… oohohooohhoho stop the clocks-OH MY GOD!!!!! I think I feel this way-because of the ‘blanket coverage’ (see what I did there) of the snow on the news. I come from Yorkshire where for 4 months of the year we have snow every day. Up there they also have machines called gritters. Annoying to get stuck behind but generally a good thing. Here in London gritters do not exist. And the humans in-charge of putting grit out don't know how to do it either. I have been noticing a gradual rising in the number of the big yellow grit bins around the streets int her last few days. I notice this but I do not notice actual salty grit on the pavements. Last evening for exercise and to pay a cheque for the lovely Vicky in, I walked to Balham. From Streatham to Balham via Tooting Common. I changed my ipod by putting every song/artist with the word strange in my itunes into it.
NOTE: IPOD I love you… my music collection that exists on hard drive and contains 47.2 days of music. That’s 13414 tunes. Some of which are two hour mixes. Putting the word strange in the search gives me 39 tunes, or 2.7 hours of music, easily enough to get to Balham on.
As I walk I notice there’s bright new yellow grit boxes…. But no grit. I mean around the boxes there is grit, but the pavements themselves are grit free. Odd. But not unpredictable. London can’t handle snow. I love it and god willing our Vicky will be staying home today HURRAH!!!!!! (a pregnant lady should not go out in such conditions) …although its not feet and feet of snow as some predicted.
SO that’s my mental health and the snow covered. Just to go back to my mental health, I think I am getting slowly better all together. Although my short term memory is shot up to fuck I feel generally less out of control(LINK TO OUT OF CONTOL CHEMICA BROThersd).I feel both more and less my self. More, because I seem a bit more in control, but less because the drugs A B (likens to drug info) remove a bit of my soul and replaced it with paper mache mush. The gray mush the paper mache is when it’s still wet, which looks actually a little like brain matter….
FUCK IT FUCK IT FUCK IT I utterly fucking hate hate hate this sodding wanking illness. However there is the plus side. A creative bomb that has laid dormant in my mind for far to long has finally exploded releasing this web blog and a million tin men and places for them to stand and drawings and paintings and films etc…
Patrick Bateman is my favourite fictional psycho serial killer. Well not my favourite, that would be the man they call leatherface (although I think really his name should be the man who wears the mask of human skin) If I had to do a top five, I couldn’t at the moment because I can’t think that hard. Bateman, however, may not have been a killer at all. It is suggested that the whole thing was in his mind. Anyway the reason I like him so much is his coldness, his lack of human empathy. His narcasisim is paramount to his character. It is at the core of his ‘non-being’. Also I love his love of the business card. Something I’ve always loved myself. The business card. Pivotal in the wooing of my love, but that’s another story…
You see does it make you uneasy to read that I am a big fan of fictional serial killers. I must admit it troubles me a little, but I live with it. The reason I mention the whole Bateman thing is his raging fury with people. I relate to that. Obviously not to the extent of wanting to kill them, its just I feel, when unwell like this, my fury rises with scary speed when I am confronted by a situation I can’t fix/figure out/deal with. This fury takes over and most times I shout. I keep it in check most the time but I worry about it. Worrying about this of course causes me stress… you can see a pattern emerging here can’t you….
Well time as passed Vicky has got up and gone to work, I walked her to the station due to the snow, but all trains are running so she’s not staying at home… shame.
….and finally I’ve set up a ustream live snow watch streaming brilliance of love and joy, sorry for these ramblings…. Peace out monkey nuts….
P.S Don’t worry about all that serial killer stuff, i’m only mucking about.... i’ve never been ‘creepy crawling’ and have no idea who Ed Gein is.... ;)
Sunday, January 03, 2010
greasy insomnia....
It’s 6:18 in the a.m I’ve been awake since 4a.m I got up at five 30 a.m. I can’t sleep. The tablets just cause side effects. Their purpose is lost on me.
Let me start at the beginning.
Sat the 2nd of jan 2010 Yep a new decade, anyway Friday night I slept well. A good solid 7ish hours. I woke up and fell out of bed. This is not a joke. Olanzapine affects the balance, and this is worse first thing in the morning, as you take the filth last thing at night. Other than wobbling about all over the place I felt pretty good actually. In fact I felt utterly amazing, a`heightened sense of everything being brilliant and perfect’. This feeling was aided by a beautiful weather day of pure blue sky. I spose I must have got up at half seven. By 11ish I was so full of beans a combination of things led to me rushing up streatham high street on an important mission to the gift shop that does a side line in jokes. You see I heard then on the radio talking about indoor fireworks.
NOTE: writing this all down at this time in the morning is like therapy. If I have a night of little sleep like this I make a special drink, it is becoming more complex every time. First it was just warm milk and honey. Now it is a slowly simmered witches brew of milk, honey, nutmeg (a real nut that comes with its own little gre#ater so the nutmeg powder is as fine dust) cloves, and a little slice of real vanilla pod. All good old fashioned spices that have possible occult connections….
Indoor fire works. I suddenly remembered.... smoke bombs! As a child I used to love these silly little gray things. If you’ve never used one I tell you you’re missing out!. But I think smoke bombs and photos. Take pictures of the figures with the smoke haze of one of these things as a special effect. So I decide I need some!
Ipod Ipod makes going out bearable. Actually more than bearable. I feel great. I must look a`bit mad with my silly cap sunglasses and hood up but I feel really good. Not in a manic way in a normal way. I think (prematurely) that I may well be getting better.
NOTE manic depression turns money into some sort of quick fix hit. You spend it and you feel happy, so you fucking spend as much as you can. I think this is how it works…
In the joke shop I have a strange conversation with the shop keeper. When I’m in a manic phase I will talk to anyone, I love talking to people but this can cross over into a terror event. However this chat was lovely and the guy sold me smoke bombs, an eye patch and some vampire teeth. I also buy a reduced Christmas pudding which at about 8:30 am today I will eat with custard. Outside I feel great. When I get home I feel great too. Vicky is going out so I am left alone for a few hours. This is fine as I have the endless task of tidying and model building. I have dry skin all over my body. It’s like insects crawling around under my skin. A hot shower works wonders but at quarter to 7 a.m this is not a solution. Where was I....?
Tidy house tidy mind. Vicky gets back and I’m buzzing away too manic to play the board game(did i mention we were planing to play Arkham horror boardgame?) so fiddle about all evening making my model walls and stuff. I decide as it’s the last real night of the holiday (I know there’s Sunday to but vicky’s off back to work so ….well more on that In a bit…) to have a few shandies. BAD IDEA! Now I drank shandy throughout the holiday period without any problems. Not that there were any problems, only the desire for more, which is of course a problem! I also needed some cream cheese as I wanted to eat the cream cheese with the smoked salmon sitting in the fridge…God I fucking dribble on don’t I but fucking god alive it’s good to sit here at 7 a.m writing it all out!
Anyway I started feeling woozy and suddenly the shandy tasted rank and I pour it down the sink. I vow right there and then not to drink for a month. The first month of the decade. I know I can do this as I did it last year….
The woozy drunk feeling is utterly repulsive so ,probably the wrong thing to do
I make a pot of coffee to sober up. Can I just say right now that I love my cat she’s ace! She’s right here purring away like a steam train…I’m gonna go to sainsburys at about 7.30 am as we are having a house guest today. An old college friend of vicky’s which I must confess am a little nervous about. I’m fucking utterly nervous about everything. The other night I was filming the kitchen ceiling because there seemed to be noises coming from it… Vicky came in and the noises stopped. See, I’m totally nuts.
So here I am 10 past seven in the am scribbled all this random shite down so no one can read it but it’s therapy for me so there…..
I’ve had a maximum of 3 hours sleeps. I feel frantic with a weird wired energy that causes me to stand on the brink of the abyss. One way is creative, positive and worthy. The other is a nightmare not even worth thinking of ….
The supermarket is now open(no, its not open ‘till 11a.m on a Sunday!) .Ed). I am going to go to it in a bit. Also the sky is lightening up looking\like another clear blue sky day. The lowest point is way behind me and I am looking forward to a whole new day of fun.
NOTE: I think the tablets are fucking utterly shite. What’s their point ?!?!?! all I seem to get is the side effects… 10 mgs. Of olazipine should knock me out for 6-8 hours solid. Thing is if I tell the doctor this what will they do? Increase the dose. Yep, that’s the backward logic of it…. So I myself will say no to their drugs(well not no to the drugs but no to further increases in amounts...). However a month without ANY booze will be good. And I will not drink coffee after 5 p.m from now on…
So that’s it, my personal writing therapy done for another day, cause no doubt the spelling grammar and meaning is all shit but at least I feel better…. And it’s proper getting light outside!!
NOTE:Candi statans version of that ‘throwing your hands up in the air is WAY better than that art student/kooky/flakey whatsernames version….!!! HAHAHAHAHAHaaaaaaa.....
I’ve even gone on itunes and bought the original and a funk remix of it. And another thing although John Halts original ‘police in helicopters’ is a powerful political song, Dopefishs’ remix is pure dubstep gold.
NOTE 2 : i went to sainsburys and it was closed.... not open ‘till 11a.m!! .....its nw 9:45 pm on sunday night vicky is killing nazi scum in the computer game return to castle wolfenstein to take her mind off going back to work... i had a nap and my well stay up doing the models again.... see youz laterz!!
Let me start at the beginning.
Sat the 2nd of jan 2010 Yep a new decade, anyway Friday night I slept well. A good solid 7ish hours. I woke up and fell out of bed. This is not a joke. Olanzapine affects the balance, and this is worse first thing in the morning, as you take the filth last thing at night. Other than wobbling about all over the place I felt pretty good actually. In fact I felt utterly amazing, a`heightened sense of everything being brilliant and perfect’. This feeling was aided by a beautiful weather day of pure blue sky. I spose I must have got up at half seven. By 11ish I was so full of beans a combination of things led to me rushing up streatham high street on an important mission to the gift shop that does a side line in jokes. You see I heard then on the radio talking about indoor fireworks.
NOTE: writing this all down at this time in the morning is like therapy. If I have a night of little sleep like this I make a special drink, it is becoming more complex every time. First it was just warm milk and honey. Now it is a slowly simmered witches brew of milk, honey, nutmeg (a real nut that comes with its own little gre#ater so the nutmeg powder is as fine dust) cloves, and a little slice of real vanilla pod. All good old fashioned spices that have possible occult connections….
Indoor fire works. I suddenly remembered.... smoke bombs! As a child I used to love these silly little gray things. If you’ve never used one I tell you you’re missing out!. But I think smoke bombs and photos. Take pictures of the figures with the smoke haze of one of these things as a special effect. So I decide I need some!
Ipod Ipod makes going out bearable. Actually more than bearable. I feel great. I must look a`bit mad with my silly cap sunglasses and hood up but I feel really good. Not in a manic way in a normal way. I think (prematurely) that I may well be getting better.
NOTE manic depression turns money into some sort of quick fix hit. You spend it and you feel happy, so you fucking spend as much as you can. I think this is how it works…
In the joke shop I have a strange conversation with the shop keeper. When I’m in a manic phase I will talk to anyone, I love talking to people but this can cross over into a terror event. However this chat was lovely and the guy sold me smoke bombs, an eye patch and some vampire teeth. I also buy a reduced Christmas pudding which at about 8:30 am today I will eat with custard. Outside I feel great. When I get home I feel great too. Vicky is going out so I am left alone for a few hours. This is fine as I have the endless task of tidying and model building. I have dry skin all over my body. It’s like insects crawling around under my skin. A hot shower works wonders but at quarter to 7 a.m this is not a solution. Where was I....?
Tidy house tidy mind. Vicky gets back and I’m buzzing away too manic to play the board game(did i mention we were planing to play Arkham horror boardgame?) so fiddle about all evening making my model walls and stuff. I decide as it’s the last real night of the holiday (I know there’s Sunday to but vicky’s off back to work so ….well more on that In a bit…) to have a few shandies. BAD IDEA! Now I drank shandy throughout the holiday period without any problems. Not that there were any problems, only the desire for more, which is of course a problem! I also needed some cream cheese as I wanted to eat the cream cheese with the smoked salmon sitting in the fridge…God I fucking dribble on don’t I but fucking god alive it’s good to sit here at 7 a.m writing it all out!
Anyway I started feeling woozy and suddenly the shandy tasted rank and I pour it down the sink. I vow right there and then not to drink for a month. The first month of the decade. I know I can do this as I did it last year….
The woozy drunk feeling is utterly repulsive so ,probably the wrong thing to do
I make a pot of coffee to sober up. Can I just say right now that I love my cat she’s ace! She’s right here purring away like a steam train…I’m gonna go to sainsburys at about 7.30 am as we are having a house guest today. An old college friend of vicky’s which I must confess am a little nervous about. I’m fucking utterly nervous about everything. The other night I was filming the kitchen ceiling because there seemed to be noises coming from it… Vicky came in and the noises stopped. See, I’m totally nuts.
So here I am 10 past seven in the am scribbled all this random shite down so no one can read it but it’s therapy for me so there…..
I’ve had a maximum of 3 hours sleeps. I feel frantic with a weird wired energy that causes me to stand on the brink of the abyss. One way is creative, positive and worthy. The other is a nightmare not even worth thinking of ….
The supermarket is now open(no, its not open ‘till 11a.m on a Sunday!) .Ed). I am going to go to it in a bit. Also the sky is lightening up looking\like another clear blue sky day. The lowest point is way behind me and I am looking forward to a whole new day of fun.
NOTE: I think the tablets are fucking utterly shite. What’s their point ?!?!?! all I seem to get is the side effects… 10 mgs. Of olazipine should knock me out for 6-8 hours solid. Thing is if I tell the doctor this what will they do? Increase the dose. Yep, that’s the backward logic of it…. So I myself will say no to their drugs(well not no to the drugs but no to further increases in amounts...). However a month without ANY booze will be good. And I will not drink coffee after 5 p.m from now on…
So that’s it, my personal writing therapy done for another day, cause no doubt the spelling grammar and meaning is all shit but at least I feel better…. And it’s proper getting light outside!!
NOTE:Candi statans version of that ‘throwing your hands up in the air is WAY better than that art student/kooky/flakey whatsernames version….!!! HAHAHAHAHAHaaaaaaa.....
I’ve even gone on itunes and bought the original and a funk remix of it. And another thing although John Halts original ‘police in helicopters’ is a powerful political song, Dopefishs’ remix is pure dubstep gold.
NOTE 2 : i went to sainsburys and it was closed.... not open ‘till 11a.m!! .....its nw 9:45 pm on sunday night vicky is killing nazi scum in the computer game return to castle wolfenstein to take her mind off going back to work... i had a nap and my well stay up doing the models again.... see youz laterz!!
Friday, January 01, 2010
first blog entry of the new DECADE!
i feel like my brain has been removed. Not because of booze, but due to the tablets i’m on at the moment drink is a forbidden pleasure... mind you i did drink a LOT of shandy!! Any way at midnight last night this happened !!! ....I think the olanzapine is really starting to kick in now. I remember from the last time i was on it, a much higher dose than this time. I think it made me feel like frankenstien’s monster (also i moved around like him). The drugs i’m on are not mood stablisers, they are anti-psychotics and calmer-downers (or as i call them mongers-cos they ‘mong you out’ basically ...and if you don’t know what that means you’ve lead a very sheltered life) the song “Gouge away” from the album doolittle by the pixies pretty much somes it up. So i’ve already forgotten what i just wrote and might end up repeating myself, am i repeating myself....repeat, that’s a funny fucking word if you say it over and over (repeating it!)....
Arr yes, this mood stablizer thing. I may not be psychotic but my mood goes up and down faster than Big Daddy Don Garlits . And so yesterday NYE was a real rollercoaster.
EXAMPLE: We went up the high street in the morning, both vicky and I. Due to being with Vicky i did not take along my ipod. Big Mistake! ....we split up, she went in library and i went to the massive totally bonkers 99p shop (i utterly love those shops, they are the greatest thing caused by the global economic melt down), to purchase 100 party poppers. However this thing occurred:
A)the noise in there was all evil and wrong, like a 45 played like a 33, or this (which is utterly intriguing) ...where was I? You see i’m not sure if it really is actually physically possible to feel your blood pressure actually going up, but this did seem to be happening. Colours and lights attack me in the brain and people seem to turn into devils etc. This is very easily avoidable, just with the use of the ipod! yes apple’s mother fuckin ipod seems to work better than all the ‘mongers’ in the land...
That said i was strong enough to get through it. On a sideline the manic episode of manic depression makes spending money almost as good as sex, so my money don’t last all that long. Why, for instance, did i buy a batman for a fiver when i can’t even concentrate on reading for more tha five minutes....actually it does have nice pictures. I’m rambling now....
IPOD IPOD IPOD! i utterly love you, you stop all the crazy outside stuff!!
So anyway the afternoon was spent sort of getting exited, actually i made this at about 9a.m that morning... The mood swings i go so high i want to dance about hug and talk to every one, to feeling so utterly depressed i would love to just do a Cobain. Also, at random times it’s like wanting to cry and cry.... fucking happy shit this innit! ........i’ll get things back to happy and fun now...
So NYE was spent with my lovely vicky and our cat.... who i nearly killed with party poppers....
we made loads of party food, ate it all then felt like big fat pigs....
One the up side, in fact definitely a big highlight for me , was making a cheese fondoo or is it fando? You know what i mean (heres a picture!) anyway it was so tasty my actual taste buds grew large in appreciation.
at midnight we watched tv. and let off party poppers.
I slept like a log and for a good seven hours, no voices or evil dreams....
NOTE:hopefully this is making some kind of sense, as i said above i’m drugged up on legals and can’t stop doing about five different things at the same time, so whilst writing this shite am also building multiple models, and making silly little films... PEACE OUT MUTHA-FUNKAS!
Arr yes, this mood stablizer thing. I may not be psychotic but my mood goes up and down faster than Big Daddy Don Garlits . And so yesterday NYE was a real rollercoaster.
EXAMPLE: We went up the high street in the morning, both vicky and I. Due to being with Vicky i did not take along my ipod. Big Mistake! ....we split up, she went in library and i went to the massive totally bonkers 99p shop (i utterly love those shops, they are the greatest thing caused by the global economic melt down), to purchase 100 party poppers. However this thing occurred:
A)the noise in there was all evil and wrong, like a 45 played like a 33, or this (which is utterly intriguing) ...where was I? You see i’m not sure if it really is actually physically possible to feel your blood pressure actually going up, but this did seem to be happening. Colours and lights attack me in the brain and people seem to turn into devils etc. This is very easily avoidable, just with the use of the ipod! yes apple’s mother fuckin ipod seems to work better than all the ‘mongers’ in the land...
That said i was strong enough to get through it. On a sideline the manic episode of manic depression makes spending money almost as good as sex, so my money don’t last all that long. Why, for instance, did i buy a batman for a fiver when i can’t even concentrate on reading for more tha five minutes....actually it does have nice pictures. I’m rambling now....
IPOD IPOD IPOD! i utterly love you, you stop all the crazy outside stuff!!
So anyway the afternoon was spent sort of getting exited, actually i made this at about 9a.m that morning... The mood swings i go so high i want to dance about hug and talk to every one, to feeling so utterly depressed i would love to just do a Cobain. Also, at random times it’s like wanting to cry and cry.... fucking happy shit this innit! ........i’ll get things back to happy and fun now...
So NYE was spent with my lovely vicky and our cat.... who i nearly killed with party poppers....
we made loads of party food, ate it all then felt like big fat pigs....
One the up side, in fact definitely a big highlight for me , was making a cheese fondoo or is it fando? You know what i mean (heres a picture!) anyway it was so tasty my actual taste buds grew large in appreciation.
at midnight we watched tv. and let off party poppers.
I slept like a log and for a good seven hours, no voices or evil dreams....
NOTE:hopefully this is making some kind of sense, as i said above i’m drugged up on legals and can’t stop doing about five different things at the same time, so whilst writing this shite am also building multiple models, and making silly little films... PEACE OUT MUTHA-FUNKAS!
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