Still pretty depressed.
I’m superficially calm, but deep inside me, a mad beast is howling itself hoarse and beating itself bloody against the walls of its cage. It knows nothing of the world but pain, and the only thing that lessens the pain is to howl and howl and howl.
That’s how I feel right now. I have this pain deep inside me that makes me want to scream, It’s like this ache that squeezes my bones and grinds my teeth and makes me feel like I could shatter and explode from the strain any second now.
Probably some kind of inflammatory response.
Or maybe I’m just tired. My sleep was interrupted by a phone call from my doctor’s office to tell me about the dermatologist’s appointment they told me about last week.
I guess the receptionist forgot to write down that she’d done it already.
This does not inspire confidence.
I’ll be seeing Doctor Chao for my B12 shot this Friday, so I can talk to him about it then, I will also give him the progress report on that pain in my right frontal peri-nasal sinus.
God, I love scientific jargon.
The basic report is that the problem persists but its severity has decreased since I got my sinuses to drain and cleared my ears and nostrils.
As long as I keep my sinus pressure down, the pain is minor. Easily ignored. So in the immediate, the problem is solved.
But there’s still something seriously wrong in there.
I think I should get my head examined.
By which I mean get my head x-rayed. IT really feels like there is something solid in there, and I would like to know whether or not that’s true.
Seems pretty unlikely. More likely is that the sinus cavity in question is somehow swollen shut while full.
Not sure what could cause that, but it’s my best theory so far.
Sleep’s been ample but poor. The residue of intense dreaming lingers in my mind and makes it hard to concentrate and/or stay focused on a task.
Hopefully, like yesterday, I will eventually get enough sleep to feel more or less awake.
Sleep should not seem like work.
And yet, it often does for me. Instead of being some kind of respite wherein I find comfort and renewal, it often feels like a chore I am obliged to do, an ordeal I have n choice but to endure.
And that’s not right. That’s not what sleep is supposed to be at all.
I wish I could just sleep the pleasant, peaceful, calm sleep of an infant and wake refreshed and re-energized and ready to take on the world.
Instead, I have deeply troubled and fitful sleep which leaves me feeling drained and bruised and depleted, like I should be in the ICU.
At least then, I would be moving towards healing. Instead, I am drifting slowly but inexorably towards my doom and I cannot find the energy to try to keep it from happening. All I can do is watch it come.
My own person black hole sun.
There is no other pill to take
That made you ill
Sleep now in the fire, indeed.
Still feeling angry and depressed. That black smoke spewing fire continues to grow inside me, making my eyes blurry from the heat and making my poor ears ring with its deep crackling roar.
And you know what? I think I’m starting to like it.
Burn, bitch, burn!
Go ahead, my little inferno. Rage. Devour everything weak or impure in my body and my mind and especially my soul. Drink it down in huge thirsty gulps, chow down on it in massive cheek-stretching bites. Gorge yourself on my weakness and pain and grow big and fat for daddy.
I am leaning into my nihilism and it feels fantastic.
I’m in the mood to stick a metaphorical finger down my throat and vomit all my broken thoughts and half digested pain all over the audience while screaming “Take it! Take it you bastards! Take it ALL!”.
I am sick of living with all this bullshit clogging me up and crowding me out of my own mental space, like I’m some kind of garbage hoarder who comes home daily with more “treasures” and can’t bear to part with a single soiled napkin or dirty diaper.
Well fuck that. Back the flatbed dumpster up to my window and I will throw out every single bit of garbage I have ever hoarded and then setthe whole thing on fire so I can dance naked around the fire, cackling like a demented demon and howling at the moon.
And with every howl, the laughter gets bigger, and deeper, and louder, until it resounds off of every flat surface and vibrates in every chambered space and fills every listening ear, from the tiniest mouse to the biggest whale, with my madness and my pain.
And yet I will scream and roar and laugh on and on into the heartless cold of the night until the world cries out for mercy and begs me to stop.
Only then will I relent.
Only then will my strange song end.
Only then will I know I have been heard.
And maybe then, I will finally be able to relax and get some sleep.
Man, this dark shit I’ve been writing is quite a trip.
Is there a market out there for this shit? There must be.
No idea what to call it, though.
I suppose I could add a shit-ton of line breaks and call it poetry. That would be acceptable to me. I consider it poetry in its current form too but then again, I know the state of mind I was in as I wrote it and where all the imagery comes from and trust me, itis not the place where rose comes from.
The images come straight from the soul of my dark heart. Down deep, where all the killing clowns and perverted penetrators and triple headed garbage monsters live.
See? Imagery like that.
So expect more or this stuff in the future, folks.
I’ve got a lot of trash to burn.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow,.