06.11.14 (Day 319)
When I was younger; so much younger than today, I never needed anybody's help in any way...
Or so I thought.
But now those days are gone, I'm not so self-assured...
So said The Beatles. And The Sex Pistols sang of anarchy. Happy days of innocence?
Anarchy does work. Or it would if it were allowed to rule: there's a paradoxical statement. Or is it an oxymoronic one? Is my life worth saving? What would those who save me get out of the deal? Me. Is that worth it? At the moment, I don't know. I don't know if I would were the shoes to be on different feet.
My own feet fear to tread. Wherever I go I'm either walking on eggshells, treading water or walking through treacle. I wish I could be normal; I wish I could walk on water as some think I do.
One of those was one of the many young adults I helped out and who now seems to have it in their head - and those of their elders - that something went on. It did: help. Well if anyone wants to involve the law, I already have. Who better to prove proof positive? Dig, delve; do what you want. You won't find anything when there's nothing to find; unless you can get into the mind of a deluded individual. I wish someone could get into my mind and tell me what's going on in there.
I'm stressed and strained. Perhaps I should be tressed and restrained.
Same as yesterday (and the day before, and the day before that), I wonder: what now? To wonder or wander? I ponder too much.
I'm sitting in the tidy kitchen which I helped to deep clean. There's food all around me but I can't eat it. It's like being on a hunger strike: but what am I striking against? Certainly no-one here in the safe house. I feel like striking against the system and slowly dying; recording every moment on this blog so that those who never knew what it's like to be mentally ill and cast out may one day learn. And be judged guilty, as I've been of so many crimes I haven't actually committed.
I have people after me. They want my life: they want to take it. I'm tempted to let them have a go. Maybe I'll sustain permanent brain damage and not have to suffer this thing in my head. No-one understands mental illness unless they suffer themselves. And those around us do indeed suffer. We make them.
Yet still I try (I'm very trying, I know); to rebuild my life and get a business up and running. But would you trust a mental case or someone suspected of so many lies in your kitchen with a knife? Or a hot pan of oil? I could hide the truth but if you take me on, you get what you see. It takes bravery, I know. I know all about risks as I've taken many in the past and still do. It takes a leap of faith: jump! I know I want to.
Don't follow the system. Don't be governed or policed. Anarchy is about people power. Do something different.
Take on me... (A-Ha); employ me.
Open up the door.
Help me get my feet back on the ground. Help me if you can, I'm feeling down...
When I was younger; so much younger than today, I never needed anybody's help in any way...
Or so I thought.
But now those days are gone, I'm not so self-assured...
So said The Beatles. And The Sex Pistols sang of anarchy. Happy days of innocence?
Anarchy does work. Or it would if it were allowed to rule: there's a paradoxical statement. Or is it an oxymoronic one? Is my life worth saving? What would those who save me get out of the deal? Me. Is that worth it? At the moment, I don't know. I don't know if I would were the shoes to be on different feet.
My own feet fear to tread. Wherever I go I'm either walking on eggshells, treading water or walking through treacle. I wish I could be normal; I wish I could walk on water as some think I do.
One of those was one of the many young adults I helped out and who now seems to have it in their head - and those of their elders - that something went on. It did: help. Well if anyone wants to involve the law, I already have. Who better to prove proof positive? Dig, delve; do what you want. You won't find anything when there's nothing to find; unless you can get into the mind of a deluded individual. I wish someone could get into my mind and tell me what's going on in there.
I'm stressed and strained. Perhaps I should be tressed and restrained.
Same as yesterday (and the day before, and the day before that), I wonder: what now? To wonder or wander? I ponder too much.
I'm sitting in the tidy kitchen which I helped to deep clean. There's food all around me but I can't eat it. It's like being on a hunger strike: but what am I striking against? Certainly no-one here in the safe house. I feel like striking against the system and slowly dying; recording every moment on this blog so that those who never knew what it's like to be mentally ill and cast out may one day learn. And be judged guilty, as I've been of so many crimes I haven't actually committed.
I have people after me. They want my life: they want to take it. I'm tempted to let them have a go. Maybe I'll sustain permanent brain damage and not have to suffer this thing in my head. No-one understands mental illness unless they suffer themselves. And those around us do indeed suffer. We make them.
Yet still I try (I'm very trying, I know); to rebuild my life and get a business up and running. But would you trust a mental case or someone suspected of so many lies in your kitchen with a knife? Or a hot pan of oil? I could hide the truth but if you take me on, you get what you see. It takes bravery, I know. I know all about risks as I've taken many in the past and still do. It takes a leap of faith: jump! I know I want to.
Don't follow the system. Don't be governed or policed. Anarchy is about people power. Do something different.
Take on me... (A-Ha); employ me.
Open up the door.
Help me get my feet back on the ground. Help me if you can, I'm feeling down...
Of course you are worth being saved you are the most careing,loving person I have meet and you deserve all that in return so that one day you will feel happy with life again so don't give up mate.xxx
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