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And now for the diary entry I did when I was 21 and in college. I see the mania and remember the events that began to spiral out of control, which lead to this exercise. This is the first of three entries and the only time I wrote a journal in my life. Have fun.
Journal (plus or minus a day)
I want to crush happiness today and the hallucinations continue along
with the overwhelming over-developed sleep and circadian rhythms.
I am never slightly rested and refreshed and reality seems to be slightly
out-of-phase-and-pace with the natural world. I wish and supplicate
for forgiveness and ascendancy to another avatar or incarnation or
whatever the letters of the day say.
I am profound and profoundly sad with absconding bits of trivia
called happy thoughts and it needs to be a cognitive transcendence.
I in physical means, I mean nothing and must move to another state
and it is not California.
***
I mean, maybe, a sensual suicide to the instinct drive can take us
beyond Nirvana.
Happiness is relative and not a right as the
foolish, antiquated Constitution contends as it edges are foxed and brown.
Emotions seem to have
evolved to be the causation of behavioral changes and controls to
create cohesion in the family and individual ties.
Emotions are
too dangerous for this simplistic species or maybe that is why?
They will destroy themselves with their own hands masturbating away
until the universe turns off the porn and sends them into a stammer with
a quick slap to the groin. Auto-erotic chokers swing themselves
because they believe it will get just a little more. A sensual suicide, I wish
not to indulge but they do it because they feel it might be their last so
they must get more, and more and eventual it will kill them but save
them from further fears. Without elevated consciousness, species wide,
then this world is doomed, as a term for destiny, for homo-sapiens and
hopefully.
I am not so hopeful for myself, but my own fears keep me from doing
what I should have done years ago.
I am afraid. I am afraid of what I need to do to grow and become.
I know what they are and I am being an irrational fucking hypocrite.
***
I need to hyper-hydrate and cleanse my frayed mind as the body has a
liver.
My temple is in shambles, the marble ruins melt in the acidic storm
of the cerebral, cerebellum, pons, corpus callosum, and whatever
lobes frontal or occipital but they all get inebriated, drunkard brain
Bullshit intoxication hypocrisy but I keep doing it again and over
along with another time.
I do it again and do it to forget that I did it before and will do it again.
Guilt is oppressive but also can be impetus for great change. There are
better reasons for that though. If it wasn’t me I would probably think
myself a cock sure, arrogant plebe in the sense that I believe I can be more
than, even with the bibulous behavior.
***
Romantic LOVE is impossible for me now as one must trust their guts and
Betrayal is my tapeworm.
I don’t feel much of anything until I get sedated and intellectually abated.
Maybe that is why I get so wasted to not feel so wasted.
No EMOTION without coercion. Numbness, Hate, Anger, Sorrow, Rage.
I can do that sometimes without it. Hope, love, happiness, optimism,
compassion, empathy I need something for these things either to bring it
on or destroy because it may be better without them.
Live or die, I know what to do and it is up to me now.
It is all right to be afraid. It better be, but all things come to a divergence
or convergence. It is up to me now.
I will or maybe I won’t?