Resuming the Bi-Polar American

I'm back, for all it's worth, but I felt I had to discuss more of the issues of bi-polar as there's now more to tell.

After many years living as a bi-polar I now have realized that I have the ability to control or to abuse the use of the chemicals which live in my brain. Or rather are produced in my brain.

As I've said before we are a factory of chemical combinations which can create havoc, negativity, rage, self loathing, and on the other side, incredible physical strength and "High Times" like euphoria, if you're lucky.

I've always tended to lean towards the more hypomanic side, which I knew from an early age how to create without the use of anything other than a few less hours of sleep. Can you imagine what the junkies would do with my brain and my chemicals?

We often abuse them in the sense that what goes up must come down, there is much to be learned about the ability to rise and fall, like the sun and the moon, and I don't know at this point if I can actually master this.

After Graves disease set in there have been issues in my own thinking that I either learned from or would have been killed by them. I've never experienced my bi-polar the way I do now.

The comment regarding the suspicion that Grave's and or thyroid related disorders can achieve the same sorts of chemical changes in us, is in my opinion very much an avenue to research. I've seen much alteration in personality in people who have this hormone off balance.

But thyroid controls so many things that it is even more so a threat as well as a challenge for physicians to understand thyroid in all patients not only bi-polar types.

I've read much regarding the "personality" and physical changes in people who have a thyroid disorder and they can begin to react like a bi-polar without ever having experienced any of the bi-polar seasons.

So, I would agree if you see any changes in your friends or family that have not been there before, you may be dealing with the Chief of the hormones, thyroid.

The thyroid can alter other hormones, male and female, can cause weight gain or weight loss, can actually kill you without it in your body and kill you if you have too much or lead into what they describe as "thyroid storm."

Thyroid storm is when there is far too much of the chemical in your body and generally cardiac arrest occurs which cannot be treated.

Personally speaking, the thyroid issue is so complicated when mixed with the bi-polar personality and things have and still are out of my control.

For instance, this last month has been the most physically challenging month of my life, I would say on every level. Not that I've defeated it, I just keep going. I try to learn from everything that happens.

I don't fear death, I am however sometimes offended by life. I simply don't think it's all that fun or interesting if the world turns on it's own axis and there is a bi-polar world which has no awareness of it's condition.

Staying aware of your states of mind is imperative to us chemically improved, bionic brains which don't turn off sometimes even after they are unplugged. It must be somehow that we get the luxury of being frightening to others who only wish they could muster an original thought.

Or those who think we are somehow "disabled."

Are race car drivers disabled? No, they just drive faster than those stuck on the LA freeways at midday.

If an average person tries to understand the many challenges (I'm using this word as it makes use of the action necessary to deal with or understanding your unique chemical make up) of having to stay on top of the emotional and physical at all times, they would tire of it quickly.

The world is made up of many kinds of people, labeling is, well, stupid. So, the first people are the stupid people. Stupid means they are too frightened to open the doors of perception and let in ideas and accept their own individuality. That's all it is, as the usage of people being derived of some lesser quality is only a false idea. Everyone has something to give to this world.

Ignorance is bliss for some and honestly I am jealous as I can't really remain "ignoring" things that are trying to improve me, as sandpaper smoothes the wood and brings out the grain. Each issue I run up against is a chance, an opportunity to learn something new.

Remaining ignorant that bi-polar like issues are strictly for those of us given the label or title like in a movie, means that people will be clueless to their own reactions to experiences, other people, and their place in this universe.

We can all conjure up a chemistry that is unlike others, hence coffee in the morning.

Oh, yeah, give me a cup of coffee and I will talk for two days while swinging from a chandelier.

People want a "pick me up" and don't realize it's right there in your brain, pick it up. You don't have to drink it, eat it or smoke it, you just think it.

So, people go out to be on drugs possibly as they have not mastered or even begun to see what they are made of.

Alcohol, the nemesis of the bi-polar, the pain killer, the legal substance killing so many, it's suicide. Suicide doesn't mean you kill yourself instantly, it means you kill yourself and your spirit little by little until the parts waste away and death is your savior.

Well, I'm here again to tell you that I have experienced death and chose to return. Why?

First, I was grateful for the experience, but it wasn't what you think it might be. No, there was no angles or demons or bright lights, and Jesus, Buddha, Allah were all missing, there was only one word there spoken, and that word, was "death" with a question mark on the end.

It's really not all that exciting it's more of a release back to the security we all seek here on earth but can't have and the security we want to slough off when we get there. I knew if I died I would be bored.

Yes, death is boring, life is what we seek. But with balance we seek both and at times which seem to be on our own clock.

And our destiny, what is that about? I have begun to realize that I have experienced many types of people and situations in my life, and maybe they all have had a reason.

I sure hope so as I have been wondering lately if my time is not nearing, if I have learned all I came to learn, or if it's death in the figurative sense that I'm ready to make great changes in my thinking which will spill out in my actions and ability to relate to the world.

Many times I feel isolated as I do it to myself when I can't understand the ridiculous world people want to live in and like. We have been always under the guidance of this universe, we are part of the stardust that made everything including the things you and I may not like.

Judging the world is also a hiding place as we are not good or bad, we are both, and they are merely judgments. Good things happen that seem good but decay. Bad things grow up and around, but have a meaning too.

I happen to believe in God and that is what keeps me going as I struggle through so many challenges I feel overwhelmed much of the time. But I can't complain as I pray for these lessons, I think I may need to pray for "kinder and gentler" lessons.

But then again...I may enjoy this kind of life where I believe with certainty that everything happens for a reason and it is within each of these tiny events a rope dangling from the universe to grab onto.

After this last month, I just didn't quite get it together after I slammed my car door on my face. Yes, I know, it's ridiculous. Then I've now had oral surgery and my first tooth removed in my life, but lingering pain occurs, and another tooth has been harmed.

Why me? Because I deserve bad things or that I hit some ice in the road or I'm somehow a bad person. Probably not, those are judgmental ideas which don't create any sort of productive outcome.

"I think therefore I am," means more to me than probably the philosopher Descartes who is attributed with that famous quote.

My mind clears and it fogs over where I can hardly see. Depends on my thinking.

What is thinking and how do you do it? That is something nobody wants to admit, but what you think is a form of energy which can be used for many different things and take on many different tones or colors. It can also manifest in other ways such as illness or what I call physical pockets of lies we accepted and continue to hold onto.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about my own cognitive process which leads to the creation of many different types of actions and reactions.

When I react it's more unconscious than anything else. I want to improve and be more active than reactive.

And the kinds of actions I engage in have changed and I do want that.

But there is much to discuss and maybe time to do it. Today is your day, whoever, and whatever you label yourself as. If things happen you did not want to face, than it's time to face it. Why let things overwhelm you?

Everyone of us is here on this planet, this dirt and water balloon, hanging in space, and we each have choices.

Choices are like money, how do you want to spend it? Do you choose to stay happy as often as not? Or are your thoughts more trying to avoid a possible danger and cling to security?

You will have your security back the day you die. (And by the way your credit is cleared too)

But right now I'm going through a stretch which I could not begin to explain except that I prayed for healing for my health or more so not asking, doing. Now my body is doing some very strange things and I am talking to my body directly as to what it needs and wants to heal.

I've accepted this will be the time in my life where I clear out much Karma, or as I interpret it, things that have lingered too long in my life, fears and falsehoods I've accepted about life.

Next up: someone asked me about my "fighting" life and I know that it is something I must address to carry on. It's been a long life and I'm fighting against something I fought as a child: the twisted people who had me carrying around their lies and cruelty for far too long.

And this experience made me a lie detector too, which isn't always pleasant to know you are being told things that are not exactly real or true, but solely for the benefit of people who don't want or can't face themselves.

I've made a decision to face forward myself. Meaning I want to know what it is that drives me and no longer fear what I am. It's not an easy process and it is one I must do on my own as there are few who can even begin to understand my intentions.

And the energy I can conjure is something of a storm, so I try to keep it away from people who cannot understand or will be hurt even if that is not my intent.

I've lied to myself too, and that is where I begin my search for the core issues which drive me and my life. I've got conflict written all over me and negativity coming at me like missiles. I have people refusing to believe; people who have no hope; and those who are attacking me for reasons they don't even know.

Having experienced this before, in my childhood, I realize this current situation relates directly to the beginning, "my big bang" when this personality was born. And it's time to rebuild the foundation whatever the outcome.

Painful decisions have been made to remove certain people from my life as I go through it, and I only want them to know I do it for them, not me. I know I've told many of you to stay away from me for now, but it's for your own good. I have many deep seated, wounds that must be dealt with now or they never will be done again in this setting called my current life.

We will talk again...have a sunny day and remember you still have to deal with the darkness too, it's part of the cycle...of life. And it's not just us bi-polars.

The Spiritual Warrior against fighting...

I used to think that the only way to live and be strong was to fight. Sometimes it didn't matter what i fought for or against, it was a way to live. Or was it?

Things have changed dramatically for me, mostly because I inisist that they do.

Somehow I need to know who and why I am, and it doesn't go away. It's been there all my life. I went to every church looking for God or something God like, and what I kept finding was dissappointment. I needed information about who I am and where I am supposed to be going.

God seemed like the first place to look. Then it was people, I was always interested in the way people think and why they do what they do. But I seemed to gain nothing but a sad underlying world.

People were never happy with themselves and even more so they were less happy with those who might think it's okay to just be okay. I was like that, okay to do what I felt like doing.

But then the this personal happiness was challenged regularly with the help of those around me. It seemed I was not allowed to be happy and accept things for what they are and were.

I carried my childhood around like an anchor for years. I dragged it everywhere, telling the story over and over in my head, in writing, drunk on the front lawn.

Then came the time I had to tell the truth to myself, that it no longer mattered what had happened. The thought itself seemed to diminish me but it was true. It helped me become sick. I know that illness doesn't come from bacteria and viruses, recently anyway.

What I didn't realize was that it was okay to be me all along and that is was also okay to have been fooled into thinking of myself as less important than anything else on this planet or off it. It was a lesson learned. A tough lesson fought as I decided to say what I felt no matter how it was interpretted.

But no, I never had the incling to be "right." It was not about being right, it was about the level of wrongness, the things that could be changed if one were to set a course in that direction.

I've tried to do that, it doesn't always work, but I have more soul to me than I ever have. I see the levels of thinking, the trust I had wanted to have in others is actually in me, and that is where I got side tracked.

I started fighting.

I would say if I took a guess that the person I have the most problems dealing with is me. It's not about what others do, that can be solved generally with some focus on that outcome. But it is about what I do. And that is why I'm here on this planet with the rest of you.

You can't dodge it anymore than I can. Today I feel like I don't have all the much time in this particular drama left, and there are a few things I would like to do before that happens.

One is to forgive myself completely for not being what somebody talked me into thinking is a perfect life. I didn't and don't really think I ever wanted a standard life. I can let go of the things which are bad for me and hang on to the wisdom of the universe.

I may never fight again, or I may tear up the land with my claws, it doesn't matter, either way I will have to forgive myself, and let things that don't work go, and hold tightly to the map and compass which have been made for me.

It's again time for a change, as I've shared with some of you, I no longer want to live the life I've been living. I saw the core, the problem, and it's in me. It's a painful world, hard and tough for many, and it's easy going for others. Oddly, those two examples, the painful world, could be a Senator on Capitol Hill who only wanted to help, but had to see that he couldn't. Others who take the easy route, they avoid risks, confrontation, trouble, believing hot means hurt.

What do I want now?

Either my dollar bill back out of the machine or some candy...

Thus ends the bipolar American, but the end is always a beginning.

Are you a victim? Really, I'm asking, are you a victim?

I suppose I would call myself a free thinker in that I am not afraid to think for myself and accept that there will be people highly fearful that I do that.

Some people need to feel validated by other people agreeing with them. It's about as important as milk to an infant.

When we come to this website, we are willing to label ourselves bi-polar. But that label is for simple ease of communication like calling your dog, rover instead of small, short legged, curr. It is not to diminish, limit, or separate ourselves from the rest of the world. It could be bi-polar or even pie-bowler, who cares, it's just a name.

I've seen so many outstanding people who are bi-polar, incredibly intelligent, compassionate, and creative. It's exciting to listen to the hum which is the motor of their minds.

These people are my heroes. They are willing to be who they are and not only that but to cut through the phoniness which is the thicket the rest of society hides behind.

And I am my own hero.

None of us is sick, we are not adjusted completely to our systems which run different from that of others. We have in common a need to express our emotions directly. Not an attack, but an expression.

No victims, that is where I see a need to start with many of the teenagers and young adults I have met.

Being a victim is a hiding place that grows nothing more than solitude.
Hey, I've nothing against solitude and enjoy it quite a lot, but there is the balance issue again.

We are heroes, the unlikely heroes, who have been given a gift to think for ourselves. It is a tough place as we are constantly being questioned as to our motives, our thinking, we tend to get the average person talking about how we over think. Yes, it's God's balancing those who under think.

But this is the lesson for the week: you are not a victim unless you put your energy towards being one, believing in one, and thus often times you build it and it will come.

Well why do only the things I don't want to happen, always happen? I get asked that alot from teenagers who are in the most horribly insecure portion of their lives and cannot stop thinking about how "bad" things are and more is going to happen.

And then it does happen. It was psychic; no it was the devil; no it was my bad childhood. It was the scary movie I watched.

It all boils down to thinking you have no control and you are a victim. You can believe nothing happens that is supposed to happen. There are victims everywhere and they want to talk and discuss this chronic condition, victimitis, over and over.

The torment and torture, that the victim cannot change anything itself. Nothing good will happen and if it does, it means something worse than that will happen.

Where do we get these ideas? It's certainly not just bipolars. It's a widespread social problem which incorporates, psychology, medicine, pharmacology, and finally dodging responsibility.

We, and I mean the kids and friends and family who have come together over a particularly meaningful period of time in my life, where I had to decide whether to challenge what I thought was horribly wrong or simply move on.

Most who know me now and have known me in the past, could tell you that this may take years to resolve, because I believe if something is worth fighting for, then it's worth waiting to get it done right.

Each of us is worth fighting for, we must fight for ourselves. We must learn that life isn't sweet and mild, people are cruel and self serving whether we have been nice to them or not.

Inner confidence doesn't have to come from karate, meditation, high SAT scores, it comes from knowing that you're doing the best you can and you continue even when you fall, you get back up.

As I've said, we will produce many creative projects out of our bi-polar talent pool on these sites and on film. It will help us all feel included in the world which is what we all want anyway: is to feel loved and appreciated. And you thought you'd have to take physics to understand what turns out to be a simple answer to what really drives us.

But the twist there is that we have to "love ourselves and appreciate ourselves." It is an incredible answer to life's quiz show.

You can't lose when you know you are sharing in the creation. So, what you didn't come out exactly like a perfect person, well, Mein Kamph to you. And black is beautiful. Most people don't see that there is beauty in everything and everywhere. They are blind, aesthetically.

(I like that aesthetic blindness, I think I'll use it again.)

We focus on what it is that we want, what it is that would generally best serve us, then that is the direction the car will go. Keep focusing on the cliff, and have a nice roll.

More on how being a victim is not the only way to live or think....

More to follow...

A new year in bi-polar: yet another way of thinking

I apologize that I haven't had much in the way of time to come over here to my favorite site and write to the "order of the bi-polar disorder" but I'm now here for a few moments and have quite a bit to say.

A new year, yes, whatever that means. But what a "new year" means to me is an example of a photo album of my life. You really don't want to open 1967 or 2007, as it was rather, umm, ugly.

But in a way of learning to be more than what I was, there was nothing like those two years.

I've never had a moment regretting the horror that was those times. And how they changed me, frightened me, to the point where I could not even live with myself.

Not just not living my path, but resisting the path, kicked up dirt in my own eyes and by the time I was forty, the environment had gone dark on me.

However, that changed, as I called out to the universe for help. It wasn't about praying it was about creating. The two are much the same, except one comes from fear and the latter is from the tools, the powers, we are endowed with by virtue of being part of the universe.

It's this foible that man stumbles upon every single day and that is: we are not powerful, we are victims of the cold and chaotic universe.

Nothing could be farther from the truth as you can only know by doing. But we are so powerful it frightens us and certainly scares those who believe that only "some" of us are like this. (no it couldn't be me or anyone I know)

It's an exclusive club of power. Not at all. What a terrible misconception which could lead to a less than productive and fulfilling life.

We learn what power is along the way and it's not what I personally thought it was. I had some lopsided notion that power was "wise" and "unapologetic" for it's uique talents.

These talents are not unique. They are open and come from everybody. You have heard of the collective unconscious which is the universe from which we all feed, evolve and grow.

I've prayed for my friends, always taking a moment away from me to allow the chance that my positive thoughts may have an effect in a good way in their lives.

And maybe they can use it like fuel, carefully made by their friend and co-creator.

We have work to do and the tools to use to get it done.

I've always felt that I was missing something, something important, that should be there for me daily. The Swiss army knife of life.

If I am in a situation that needs to be opened up, I pull out the bottle opener, pop, and we're on our way. Put back the tool and remember that it was useful, and could be put to wise use again sometime.

Then there are the moments where things have escalated, a bipolar moment, a spontaneous combustion, and again the tools are there. I reach in and pick out the most likely useful tool.

It looks like a nice saw blade could cut away at all the bulwark set up to keep out the truth.

The book called to me

I want to talk about the books, your books, my books, the one's that speak to us almost personally, perfectly.

For years, if it didn't sound pedantic and delivered in a way that is almost placating the reader, it didn't appeal to me. I wanted or thought I needed something in concrete: the immutable voice.

Yes, I read bibles, looking for something to sustain me, yet I found myself more and more frightened of the world.

In seeking this security I ended up finding the fear. In essence I don't need to seek security nor do I need to run from fear.

A trip out of the way and I had the book

I didn't want to drive I was tired and it wasn't what I was up for. But I did it, and found myself in a situation where I would have to wait.

Not wanting to do that, I opted to walk around Kernville for a while, as the wind blew winter cold on me and in all the cracks of my jacket. I slipped into the antique store to have a look around.

Everybody coming in and out talked about the cold, and each time they did, it reminded me I was luckily wearing my long underwear that day.

Then I looked into the corner, books pulled into stacks below the shelves, looks like they were sorting out some new arrivals.

Although I looked directly at the book several times it finally spoke to me. "hello." Well, it was the lady from the store, but she came over to notice I was staring at this book.

I opened the book quickly, but I already knew I was going to buy it.

The clerk seemed to know too.

Next we will discuss what happened once I began reading the book...and is still happening....

Awash in a sea of confusion...

I remember some dumb poems I used to write when I couldn't or wouldn't be able to express my emotions in a direct and honest manner.

I've changed that entirely as I now wish to express my emotions, when and where I like. Here on the bipolar American is even better. For my friends and fellow bipolar american's this growth period is for you.

What does it represent? What does the bipolar do that is significantly different than other people?

Damn good questions, but now for the answer: balance.

The polarity which is life, we've got a north pole and a south pole, making the world bi-polar.

Being ill has been the toughest experience for me of late. I'm sure it therefore contains the most information I need to carry on, so I have to face the situation with complete honesty like a surgeon's blade cutting through years of defense mechanisms, negative characterizations of myself, family luggage tossed my way to carry, and the force which holds it all together: fear.

I no longer believe that a doctor can help me with this illness, I think I'm the only one.

Right now there is so much energy around me that is from the past, that is depressing and negative, but then I realize that I called it out, and now must put it away and to rest.

I sure don't want to stay in this atmosphere I've created for very long, and I can't imagine how I intended to live through this.

For some reason I was thinking about an old friend of mine who used drugs since she was a pre-teen and now she's over 50 and still using drugs. I saw her last year as I stayed at the house, she still lives at home, her father is quite old and an old friend too.

But she refused to change anything, she apparently wanted and continues to want to be intoxicated at all times, on anything from alcohol to psychiatric medications. Yes, it's a serious lifetime of decay going on.

Yet, she's a really nice person, but could never love herself enough to get through all the shit.

I see it now with kids I know here who are really struggling. One particular kid attempted to get into the military and was refused because of the practice of "cutting."

Now, he's either going to believe that there is something wrong with him, and allow this experience to verify that supposition, or he's going to believe that there's something wrong with them, and point the finger their way.

Here comes balance once again, the teacher.

There is something he's not being honest with himself about, something causing great amounts of pain which bring him to a point of consciously inflicting pain and altering his body.

Likely he will internalize this as more evidence of his failures and his feelings of being different and misunderstood.

What can change this?

Learning from it. What could he possibly learn from being thrown out of the military for cutting.

He could begin to ask himself why he's cutting. Not judge cutting as right or wrong, like the military did. They don't cut, they kill.

He also could realize that he almost went somewhere that he could have been killed or worse maimed. He may have had to kill other people, and really, likely, as sensitive a nature as he actually has, that may have been worse than being hurt himself.

The basic element to all of this, is balance. Not having the balance to look at each situation individually. And judging is not necessarily the same as using good judgement, so he needs to begin to understand that just to get to the surface to take a deep breath of fresh air.

We can never do exactly the same thing twice. That is an illusion. Because you cannot put together the exact time and circumstances it stands to reason you cannot do the same thing twice.

So, every single thing you do, is unique and good for one ride only. You might want to make it good.

But there are those who are caught up in the illusion of repetition, we all have believed it at some point, as we learn the vitality of each moment, of the here and now.

I refuse to struggle against all this old energy that has been churned up on the storm waves of my life. I can see and feel it all there, depression, anger, hopelessness, swirling around me, yet there is no clear and present danger to account for the onslaught.

I've been watching it for a few days not knowing what it all meant. Then I refused to be a part of what needs to be naturally molted, sloughed off, so that a new shinier skin can appear.

So, I'm not interested in wrestling with it, talking about it, or judging it, I'm ready to let it go.

I think healing is the letting go process. And I believe now that this current storm is directly related to my "illness."

When I focus on what I want and not what I don't want, I usually get it. When I'm in fear of not having something I want, then the consequences are exactly what I asked for. I asked that the universe verify for me that I will not get what I want by having fear.

I feel more fear right now than I have in a long time. In fact, it's been overwhelming. That's what gave this all away to me, I'm in far too much fear for it to be totally created here in the present time, this comes from way back.

As I've changed my beliefs, it has altered my actions, and therefore my energy.

Faith is something I am beginning to understand in a way I may even be able to casually explain it. It's such a powerful system to live by that we don't even recognize it's simplicity.

I like the fact that many geniuses such as Albert Einstein, have recognized the obvious evidence of the creator. The role of a "creator" has often been criticized and argued by those confusing religion, a series of rituals and dogmas which we are to adhere to if we are to move on to a "better place," missing the whole point.

(really religion is a manifestation to deal with the fear of death or death of the ego, as in old age.)

We are all made of the same stuff, whether you're an earthworm or a government employee.

And we are here. This is your destination.

Knowing that every single thing that happens or has happened has been in your best interest, for us to learn to turn something unpleasant into something better is emotional alchemy. Learning not to turn everything into a negative is another handy tool for the life kit.

When I know that I am from the same creator as everyone else, I am compassionate.

When I know that everything that is happening to me will be to my benefit, I am safe to learn from my mistakes.

When I know in my heart that my life is my service to this whole world, to the whole source, than I know I am a co-creator in life and take that responsibility seriously.

When I change my energy and create a positive flow, a truth, whatever we want to call it, I am powerful.

When I realize I don't have to change the negative energy, that I only have to create the positive energy; it requires no ingredients at all, except to have the awareness to put it into action.

I got these words of wisdom sometime last year from a friend of mine, and it made a difference in how I would soon be looking at my world.
"Get in touch with joy. Any idiot can be happy cause their life is going well. A Superior person aspires to be happy in spite of their fucked life! That's how optimists think. Love you lots. Forgive yourself every day."

No truer words could be said. Create happiness, it doesn't happen, it's a state of mind.

And forgive yourself everyday. I didn't know what that meant for a while, since I am more masochistic and prefer to crucify myself everyday, so I had to ponder that whole idea.

"What? let me off the hook for being stupid, I don't think so."

Then it became a reality that some of my physical difficulties are manifesting from my own brutal treatment of myself. Which I should acknowledge was borrowed from those around me who "loved" me.

As I realize forgiving myself is as important as forgiving others. Treating other people with more compassion than yourself, is what?

Not in balance.

I'm in the middle of a shit storm, and moments from now I may again get caught in the layers of stripping paint. Just when you think you found the bare wood, you find that a lot of layers can be painted over the long years. Although you maybe tempted to paint over the peeling layers, it won't work. It will all just strip away. All your work gone.

When you do get to the bare wood, sand it, and look at it like it's the first time, you may decide not to paint it. You may like it and just finish it, blemishes and all.

I lived in Greensburg, Indiana for a few years, in an old Victorian home, two staircases, years of wallpapering and paint, and we didn't know what was underneath.

Our entry moulding, staircase and railings were covered in carpet and paint. One day I was doing what kids do, racing up and down the stairs, and I tore the carpet.

After a great big family argument about how irresponsible, immature, and so on, I was for doing this damage, we realized that there was some really nice old, solid oak.

So, we pulled all the carpet, removed paint of various colors and shades, and found a beautiful 100 plus, year old, staircase. We, I actually did most of the work, finished it and it turned out to be a showpiece really.

How many of us are hiding under years of paint and wallpaper? I know I have been, and make a sincere promise that is not what I am doing anymore.

There's been a shift, moving a large tectonic plate, the rumble has been felt and heard. Real change is associated with resistance from the other side, the side that is used to you being a certain way.

I've never acted in a vulnerable manner, which makes me wonder how strong I really am. I have changed that now, and I can feel the shift, the shaky ground, and it's scary.

But that's where faith balances that fear.

(Just to let you know, so you feel better today, it works this way whether you're labeled bipolar or not. It's life.)

I'll be riding my own creation of the bucking, stubborn mule that I am. I'm sure it will be fun and full of kicks in the teeth.

Bi-polar Chic

Just to warn you in case of animal sabotage, I am getting sleepy, very sleepy...

A good friend of mine whom I met during one of the many upheavals which mark my life, wrote to me recently and told me what I am doing on these blogs, the fight I have put on, was "bi-polar chic."

And what she meant by this is that we bipolars are scatter brains who have more ideas swarming through our minds, at all times of the night I might add, than has existed since time on earth. We are weird for sure.

Because of the tidal wave of information we have a tendency to drop something, a goal, a career even and move on rather quickly to something else more interesting.

That has not been the case with me of late, I've been rather, umm, let's try to say or see it, "focused."

My friend happens to be a hypnotherapist and also teaches meditation (sshh, quiet, somebody's trying not to think), which you can only imagine, my frenetic mind must be quite the entertainment or irritation, same difference.

She's been one of the people who have kept me anchored to tasks, though I have not completed my books the way she wanted me to, I still am on those projects as well. All in good time.

She's also wickedly funny, and intelligent, and has helped me through a lot of walls and issues, always with encouragement. And to have her call me bipolar chic, was too cool.

I've been thinking about her great loss this year, losing her brother, and the greif it brought on, I pray for her all the time, and she knows that I'm always here too. And I know she will come through it all with grace and more understanding...

I think I am more clear on a daily basis as to what and where I am going. I'm following the trail of bread crumbs God leaves everyday and I eagerly watch and listen for the signs on the road.

I've had an incredible learning experience over the last years, decades, oh, hell, all my life, but particularly so now.

I've used more patience, yes, this is my standard for patience, it may seem low to some of you, but I'm pushing a cannonn up a mountain, and plan on shooting it off. So, I can't expect to do this tomorrow.

But there are things that are important to me, I've clarified this murky purpose I've felt hovering around my mind, and now feel more in contact with the universe, and all it's peeples. I feel content knowing now what I want, and also the confidence in my own ability to persist and carry out the actions necessary to get there.

(starting to doze, it's nighty night time, let's see if I can finish)

Bipolar chic: I like it. Thank you.

Somebody needs to tell me it's okay to take a break...I fell asleep during the last post

I just signed on here to look at and possibly finish my post on labels, and I started laughing when I saw what had happened. I fell asleep, you can see where I start to lose it, misspelling, then suddenly there's a whole series of question marks.

Either me, the dogs or the cat, hit that button and scrolled out all the question marks, and then I actually woke back up to finish it. But I apparently was so groggy, I didn't notice the repeated symbols.

That is both funny and sad, as I think I need somebody to tell me it's okay to take a break. Yes, I want to finish my story about labels and I will, (I'm leaving the post the way it is, it's funny) but I need to be okay to relax.

I just don't relax anymore. I don't know how really. I push myself as far as I can go, until, I get a blog full of cat or dog typing.

(Maybe the dogs saw I fell asleep and attempted to write their own blog. Just a thought, a stupid one)

Today, I felt good, got some shots in my neck, and the first thing I wanted to do this morning, was lay down and relax. Not do anything.

It was nice, sitting in bed, tired, but having really low pain levels. I didn't want to ruin it by driving or doing anything.

Truth, I actually sent my 90 year old neighbor to the store and then later for dinner, take out. He needed the exercise and we are quite a pair of neighbors.

The first time I met him, Brad, the WWII veteran, and general good guy, I was stuck on my roof and couldn't get down.

What possessed me to attempt the roof was unbeknownst to me, but I did, then got stuck. With no balance system getting back down the latter was tough.

I yelled for Brad, "help, umm, I'm stuck on my roof."

Finally, the elderly SOB heard me and came out and helped me off the roof.

He's been a great neighbor, I'm lucky, and at 90 he's doing pretty well. But he did have a stroke a couple years ago, and has had some health problems since then.

I watch for him, he watches for me, knows what time I get home if I leave, and knows when I'm back.

One day, I called him and he said he had fallen, and I could hear a slight slur to his voice, so I went over to check. He was disoriented and had a rug burn on his head from falling out of his chair. He has an electric chair, I don't know if it ejected him or what, but he slid in face first.

He wouldn't go to the hospital the stubborn old man he is, so the stubborn mule I am, called an ambulance.

We checked his blood pressure and off he went. When I got to the hospital 20 minutes later, I asked how he was doing, they said fine. I said, what do you mean fine, he's having a stroke, how's his blood pressure? She said fine.

I went in and indeed on the monitor, blinking away, was normal blood pressure. I asked what they had given him and she said, nothing.

Then the doctor came along and I grabbed him and told him he needed to recheck the pressure, as both the paramedics and Brad's home blood pressure test read him as high.

The doctor then said something about giving him different channel blockers, calcium blockers, and a whole show off list of medications. I stopped him to tell him Brad had been given nothing.

He yelled for a nurse and they used a new cuff and indeed, he had high blood pressure, so they began treating his stroke.

Long story, but it goes to show you how a small, strange incident can occur to change everything. What would have happened if I didn't go in there and check?

Well, one thing might be that Brad would not have been available today to shop and get Mexican take out for me, and I would have been hungry.

Somebody, stop me, and tell me to relax. I won't, but it's a thought...I'll just fall asleep writing.
Hey, readers, didn't you think that was weird, the scrolling thing? You should have told me my fly was down and there was spinach in my front teeth. Thanks.

More on labels, but the issue is being addressed in the blog: The jewel of the district, over at KVHD under fire.

Label makers

My sister said to me the other day, "I'm agorophobic," which means you are usual afraid of leaving your home, but it's translated as afraid of wide open spaces.

Anyway, I said what does that even mean, you're agorophobic? It's a label for something underlying. And then you are categorized as a mental health problem. Then you talk to doctors who want to give you drugs for it. Then the regular doctors have records of your "problem" contained only in a label, and base your treatment on this all inclusive title you now have. You tell your friends and family that you are agorophobic and they begin to treat you differently. They are worried, they want to intervene, they won't tell you the truth to avoid an argument. Then on some level you internalize this label and you deem it positive or negative. The symptoms are negative, but it gives you a way out from dealing with the underlying issues.

What did my sister really mean to say when she labeled herself? I think it was something difficult to cope with. It was changing jobs in a tough economy, a sick relationship, a pop on the head from the kids, the anniversary of her father's death, and on.

That's what she meant.

Those labels we hide behind them. The bi-polar label is a complex matter for me. I guess I accept all the connotations which go with it for the sake of helping others understand their chemical differences.

I'm emotionally and chemically different, and I refuse to say that it is not both good and tough at the same time.

Labels and judgments

People make judgments based on labels, and we are covered in labels, take a look at yourself. What labels have you internalized?

Are you an intellectual, stupid, average, happy, nice, mean, ugly, beautiful, old, young, strong, weak, cowardly, courageous, or one of many labels you have on you.

What does it mean to have all these labels

People think of you in terms of your lables. You are, say, a female, mother, overweight, white skinned, and you will be treated based on these first impressions.

Labels speak and portray certain things without any facts to stand pebehind them. I've recently dealt with such a person. I should call her no facts, that should her label.

But there is also the fact that we give labels to others: "she's an alcoholic," "he's a workaholic," she's a difficult woman and or "bitch" or he's a real "bastard."

I've entered situations where I've been given the "rundown" on people with a bunch of label making. The boss is fair up to a point, where he isn't really fair. He's a slave driver, a monarch, or whatever pejorative terms to come up with.

Now, I go meet this person with this impression in my head. Sometimes people don't question the label, knowing that if tlfey do, they dontinued and 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Imagine now that you have been scanned by the "average" mind, you also know how to manipulate the interpretaton by acting a certain way. Or if you gave completely false information, this person would have to accept the data until proven wrong.

Writing from the heart...

Although this blog is about a lot of things, bi-polar disorder, creativity, sprituality, life, love, happiness and fighting of course, I thought I would start here to explain what I will be writing about on my other blog this week.

It's a personal story, and it's a real story, of rural health. My interest in writing it is to stave off the bad medicine which seems to happen at the Rural Health Clinic in Mt. Mesa, California.

When I say "bad medicine" that means a lot of different things. I think about how the fact that I am bi-polar has kept me from getting treated like a human being over there.

I left the place two months ago, and have been planning this story since the last day I spoke to my doctor over there. It's not like we spoke, we hit a wall, and he thought that was okay. (I carry a sledge hammer though and walls don't bother me much)

This story, I hope, will make better healthcare professionals out of these people. Not that I think it will happen overnight: they're not going to read it and suddenly understand what kind of fuck ups having been going on over there.

I'm sure they will be angry with me at first. I think what I will be saying in it's rawest form, will be at the very least uncomfortable, and at the most it will have them blowing smoke out of their ears.

But when we don't complain, when we don't tell the truth, things don't change and illness festers.

Walking away from a situation only to know others will follow that same path and may suffer the same mistakes you endured, is not fair.

Telling the truth, is what is fair. I'm going to tell it like it was. All of it.

The community here can accept it or reject it, it's truly up to them. But I will have the knowledge that I tried to make a change.

Healthcare reform has less to do with insurance as it has to do with how we treat people, and how we allow the pharmaceutical companies to remain in control of the medications, while insurance companies control their part of the money. It's a mess.

It doesn't have to be, but it is. I was going to go into insurance as some of my family wanted me to work with them. They thought i would be good at it. I did go to the point of taking the classes and getting the license, then realized, what kind of fucked up industry is this?

I did not like it or respect it, knowing that with a few changes, we all could have good insurance, doctors could be paid what they want, pharmaceuticals could still get their share, and insurance companies could simplify and have all the money they want.

I'll preview this as I intend to outline the whole plan on the other blog: Your government, your problem: an owner's manual.

But what if every single person in this country put in money to cover their insurance? If you take the population figures, and multiply by $5, then you would have a booming industry. Anyone who is not a resident would pay more, and those on vacation here would have to pay a healthcare tax before departing their plane.

Done. Everyone has insurance, and everyone is treated. Volume. (I stole that thought from a CFO)

It didn't take much to figure this out, but our government can't seem to get those hands out of their pockets long enough to do the right thing.

Obama's plan should scare us all. It was thrown together too quickly for one thing, and second, the beneficiaries of the plans are the insurance companies and pharma. Nothing changed, it was just spun.

Back to the story, I am only one, but everyone is one, and all of us can do something about the things that come across in our lives the one's that call to us, our call to duty.

This story is calling me...See you soon Rural Health Clinic

Take your own advice

I've been thinking about this for a while now, and that is that we as social creatures feel we need to help each other out. In the course of doing just that, we come up with some "good advice."

"I think you should slow down the pace, take time to look at things while you're relaxed, and then come up with an answer. Don't do it while you're in a bad state of mind"

Hey, that's some good advice.

We all know sometimes we're in a mood or under pressure and we make a decision we would not otherwise make, and if we had only waited and relaxed we could have seen more of the picture to make a wiser decision.

But we rarely take advice. Yes, we nod in agreement, "good thinking", and then go about following our out of control emotions.

And we never seem to take our own advice, which is what this blog is about. Each of us at some time or another gave out some great advice, something that dropped out of the heavens in fact. We were even proud that we could so clearly see what somebody else should do.

Then a week or so later, we, ourselves, the sagacious advice givers, find that we should have taken our own advice, but we didn't.

It was good enough for somebody else, but then when we need it, we totally forget what advice we created. Suddenly we're lost.

I love my friends. They hear the wisdom of my advice and so gently throw it back in my face when I'm not using it myself.

But what is advice? Well, it's a plan to deal with a situation which the person has blocked, been in denial about, or cannot see for some reason the practicality of the suggestion.

Advice is suggestion and there is different kinds of advice.

There's advice about an issue like your taxes, where you really don't know much about it and you have to pay to get advice as what to do, what is the best course of action.

Then there's suggestions from people who have been around you and observed you and know from experience what type of advice to give you. They probably have said it ten times before, but you weren't listening.

"Oh, that is really smart, why didn't you tell me that before?" (I did)

Selective hearing and selective understanding is an issue we deal with when someone is in a situation that isn't necessarily good for them and they don't want to face it.

You say, "I know the car means a lot to you, but it's not worth the money to fix it."

"But I have had that car since I was in high school (which isn't an argument, more of an emotional response); there are too many memories to just give it away."

Now you can't give advice based on logic and reason to someone who is basing all their actions on their emotions. So, now you have the opportunity to give emotional advice, which is different.

"Do you think passing that car along to your son the automechanic would be okay as he could fix it and it would still be in the family. He might let you drive it around."

"Hey, that's good advice."

Then there's the bad advice, the type given just to make the person seem stupid, ugly or to put them down or to manipulate them.

"You know if you lost 2o pounds you would look so much better and people wouldn't look at you and say you're fat. And then if you just dress differently you could cover up those rolls you're cooking around your waste."

That is not advice or is it being said because your best interest is in mind. This is called fake advice to make the other person feel superior.

"You know you could have done so many other things, I don't know why you continue to work in this field there's no money there."

Again, it's all negative, its not intended for anyone's benefit.

Also, if you notice, people who give negative "advice" are usually the one's who are insecure. Both the examples above could be coming from people who hate their jobs and stay for the security and money, and a person overly obsessed with the way they look therefore the way others look.

But when you hear yourself give a gem of advice to someone you care about, use it. You will probably need it yourself some day.

Don't say to someone stop smoking cigarettes, and then light up.

Don't tell your kids not to stay out late and come crawling in at dawn.

Advice is a powerful tool for yourself and the people you care about. Just be sure you're doing it for the right reasons and if you are, then take your own advice.

We often want the best for our friends before ourselves. But that same sage wisdom can be used by you.

It's amazing how smart we are if we are not so afraid as to speak up but even more so if we are able to listen to our own words and utilize them.

Advice which is proven is another thing too.

It falls into categories such as direction, education, and friendship.

"I got the stains out of the carpet with a glass of wine and battery acid."

(Thanks, I might try it or not)

But advice should never be forced upon someone, we all have our own ideas about how we want to live, and feelings of the direction we need to go in, and that's when advice should turn into support.

"I really like how happy you are these days with your new job. You seem to enjoy it and they seem to appreciate you. You made a good choice there. Glad to see you doing so well."

People sometimes have issues of jealousy, and instead of giving support, they turn it into competition.

Same scenario: "I haven't seen you at all since you got that job. Hope you're getting paid for all your hours. And do you really think that commute is worth it. It's your life, I'm just saying."

Now, putting both these scenarios together into supportive advice: "I'm so glad to see you happy these days and I think your new job has really changed you and given you confidence. The only drawback I see is the commute. Do you think you could use the train?"

We share advice with each other, and sometimes we need to understand what we are doing when we communicate in this manner.

Sometimes I'll be telling someone something and I'll realize that it applies to me too. So, we both benefit from the exchange.

If you find that people give you mostly negative advice, then you need to stop listening to them. Keep the people around you who will be honest, straightforward, not critical and jealous.

There are always going to be those who can't see you for the great person you are, because they can't see themselves that way either.

My advice is this: understand that people do have things to say that can assist you on your journey, and you also have experience, wisdom and compassion to pass along on your way too. However, there will be those who will not be capable of having your best interests at heart, and therefore you may want to take heed that advice coming from these types of people is usually very self centered.
But there is wisdom in everything, listen and look for it.

(Oh where did I put it?)

For crying out loud

I'm all scrambled eggs this morning as I have a huge decision to make based on new information regarding my investigation into my local public healthcare district.
I've known for a while, or actually just sensed it, but now have information to prove it, that my case is way beyond my reach. It will never be solved or rectified.
The mismanagement that grows in the dark, moldy areas seems to have seeded itself at the healthcare district.
But it goes up and beyond where I can reach. I think anyway. I could change my mind on that.
I guess I'm just tired of elected officials serving themselves and not the constituents.
There's no change which can occur without some sort of radical action.
For instance, the healthcare insurance reform business. This is not an altruistic cause, this is about changing money from one special interest group over to another.
Real change cannot exist in a capitalist society. We're doomed. We will not be the roman empire, and we will fall by the wayside as our bogged down government cannot keep up with the necessary changes.
And honestly, they really don't care.
If they did, then they would not be fooling around playing games with people's lives. They would take their responsibilities seriously.
I'm always amused how the US constitution is used to argue about so many issues, but in the long run, it really has little to offer modern society.
We need new blood, new ideas, cutting edge technology which can analyze the new America we need to create.
It makes me nauseous to see what is happening in Washout DC, as the President is leading an army of the ignorant, in a fake battle for change.
What a mess, for crying out loud.
Where would one citizen even begin to tackle the entrenched and power seeking political machine?
I don't know. I'm going to be thinking about it though.
You have to be a little crazy to get things done. I've got that down pat.

Anyone who would like to join me on this quest which is going to seemingly bring me down off this mountain and on up to Sacramento at some point.

I really am sick and tired of the mediocrity which is the political system who gutted its educational programs falling behind in the world. "Stupid Americans" could become a perspective about us.

Oh, hell, I don't know anything right now, I'll get back to you soon on this...Laura Hart

I've just got issues (I'm sure this is part one of many)

The title of this blog was created a long time ago during a conversation. I got done telling a friend a story and as if to make it seem as if I understood what I said, I closed with "I just have issues."

We laughed. I wrote down the title and waited until some morning where I could explore that whole idea. And that's today.

Well, I guess the hot topic amongst my friends is my fighting issues.

"We're just worried about you."

How sweet. Well fucking worry about something else. I'll worry about me.

Fighting, hey, its for something.

But then again, going back in time, I remember my childhood. Fighting and lots of it.

Being bi-polar fighting comes naturally, as the chemicals needed to fight are always "that was the wrong thing to say" away.

My personal problem is people who threaten me. I must say if you're going to make a threat, you fucking better be prepared for my reaction. You may not have much time to react either.

Physically threatening me is a whole other matter. I'm unfortunately not afraid to mix it up with someone twice my size. The chemical burst which occurs when I feel physically threatened is nothing you can buy on the streets, well maybe, PCP.

I've been beaten up two years in a row, each in December, the first an assailant and next the pseudoboyfriend mistake.

My assailant who was battling someone who has been in many battles, (but I happened to have been healthy back then), actually, weirdly, after he gave up the attempted rape/assault and the fun of trying to subdue me for five hours, complimented me: "You're stronger than you look."

Yeah fuckhead I'm bi-polar. Whatever drugs you were taking, the ones I make in my own body are unadulterated and of a higher quality.

Had I been a normal weight, all muscle, this piss ant wouldn't have been complimenting me, he would have been in the hospital.

My fighting career started early. Not that I looked for fights but fights always found me.

For the most part kid fights are one thing, except when you have older kids bullying the younger ones. I was a bully buster though and took on some big kids who thought they were pretty tough.

Nothing like being a teenage boy beaten up by a rabid seven year old girl. I'm sure they're still in therapy over it.

I remember telling my parents I would be taking Karate, not piano. I remember reading their faces before the ultimate answer of, "hell no."
They were thinking, training this force? No thanks.

However, I trained myself. I was athletic in every way, and BP chemically, truly even as a young child, mine started early. I worked on fighting moves all the time, and applied them to real life.

When my parents divorced, my Dad who never said a real cross word to me as a child, left the household, my Mother pushed him out. Then she marries my stepfather who woo's my sister and I.

I then discover all there is to know about alcoholism and the blackouts, as my stepfather, had them regularly.

We couldn't have been more a miserable mess than this family mixture, and I remember it well, my stepdad coming home from work, just getting in the door, suit and tie, and he began talking really mean to my mother.

I never heard my Dad talk like that, and something triggered.

"Shut up," I told him.

He just smiled. Then I jumped on him and grabbed his tie and let my body weight pull it tight around his neck. His face turned red and he gagged. He punched me right in the face and sent me flying across the room into the door, where I slid down and looked at the blood trickling from my face onto my shirt.

I knew not to move. My mother and my sister were screaming, and he came over to look at me. As soon as he was crouched down in a vulnerable position, I struck. I kicked him right in the balls.

The fight didn't last long as my Mother's screams got the neighbors attention.

But this would be the first fight which lasted for years until I almost killed him one night. Then he almost killed me too.

I would always try to find a way to come into my house of booze unnoticed, because there would always, and I mean always, be a problem which lead to a fight.

It's not been necessarily a want to fight situation, sometimes it happens. I crept up back stairways, climbed the garage and went into a window, used many windows in fact. I didn't want to fight, I wanted to be left alone.

So, why this sudden physical violence in my life, now so many years later? I don't know completely, but I have a few ideas.

Then I piss off Mr. Martial Arts, pseudoboyfriend, with my usual flair. But that day I had a migraine was throwing up and could not deal with his problems.

So, I said and did some things which pissed him off to the point he punched me fast, cold cocked me to the face, and dropped me like a rock to the floor. Both my hands were full, so it was a total domination, chicken shit, move.

Then he lost all control, when I was down, he put his knee in my back and started to repeatedly punch me in the head. I acknowledged I was down and turned my head to the already broken and numb side and waited for him to get down hitting me.

I passed out for a minute. I imagine he expected to have more time time to pack and leave.

I opened my eyes, realized what had happened and got up to my feet. Now there was nothing in my hands mutherfucker.

He was leaning down packing his clothes as quickly as possible, he didn't realize I had gotten up and was standing right behind, with knives within reach.

But he was a sorry lot, no control of his rage, trained in fighting, stabbing and some other gang related things, and I wasn't going to kill him or even hurt him. He needed to leave immediately and never come back.

He turned and saw me standing over him, and startled at the unexpected sight, growled, "I'm going to kill you."

I said flatly, no inflection, "better people have tried."

He took a swing at me, which I reacted to and fell down. He ran out the door, "bye pussy, chickenshit, run."

I didn't file charges against him, as I felt sorry for him: he wasn't strong, he was weak and that made him dangerous.

His father was cop who blew his head off in front of the family, so I figured he had had enough. He knew better than to come back. At the hospital where they treated my migraine and my completely shut eye, they said, "you better lock your doors tonight, he could come back."

I said, "I'm leaving them unlocked in fact, and its up to him if he would like to do that again."

That's when I realized: Beaten up, but never beaten down.

So, violence reared its ugly head in my life, somehow I got through it. But I still have the feelings that if you want to threaten me then you are really playing with fire.

Usually, I believe in an eye for an eye, balancing out the scale. You punch me, I punch you. Not, you punch me and I drive my car through your rented apartment.

So, yes, I just have issues...

Sean Time: Level headedness

Our man Sean, is he not the epitome of levelheadedness?

err, maybe not...

photos by "the cameraman"

what is today?

I sometimes wonder where time goes and often forget what day it is. I think I'm busy and I don't really care, because once I wake up, kill some pain, I'm off to work.

Oh, "off" to work is meaningful. I grab my computer and a whole process begins in my mind.

As I always tell other writers, there's a story in everything, but just as much a story in nothing.

I wonder sometimes how people look at my blogs after I've been to a meeting. I'm sure they wonder what I'm going to say on the blog.

But they never know, because I never know until I think about it for a while.

And some people are scared of me, oh so sad, because there is nothing safe to say around me, I can make anything into a story.

I've been asked "where did you come up with that?" Why it's the muses, they talk to me.

They have so far not asked me to kill anyone so I think its pretty safe to speak with them.

Today, I have a list as long as my arm to get done, and I might accomplish some of it. Driving away from the house is part of the day. I wish I could drive my bed all over town.

With my pillows behind my head, a steering wheel pops up, and off I go. No need for air conditioning and I have blankets for heat.

But up here in this god forsaken valley, I'm sure the cops would pull me over.

"Do you have tags for this thing?"

"Yeah, it's on the end of the mattress don't pull it off."

"Oh."

"Anything else officer?"

"What is that under your blankets?"

"Oh, this, this is my bong. Want a hit?"

"Just get out of here and drive safely."

Yeah right...

Another day, actually a Friday, another round of whatever the universe has whipped up for me.

I'm so impressed so far, I just can't wait to see what's next. Maybe locusts in my bathroom, or rabid animals chasing me. It really could be anything, I don't count out any possibilities anymore.

When my life got this weird, I knew that it was "unpredictable" and there is no controlling it. So, I became weird and unpredictable too.

Now, I just don't care anymore, its the way it is and what will happen will just have to happen. Fuck it.

The start of the end

Wow so this is it my start to wright something someone will take in and say to them self " hay this guy is fucking nuts. " Now we can have some fun, not your kind of fun... NO!!!! my kind of fun is the kind that will leave your ass dead with no head, and me playing kickball with it HAHAHAHAHAAA!!!

No really I would just stab you in the gut and twist the blade, so I can hear you scream like a school girl! Oh shit sorry I got a little hungry, I get a bit insane when I don't eat. OK now that I had some food where was I .... well fuck I lost my train of thought..... Well you look nice did you do something new with your hair? No? well the glare from the window behind you must be it then. Don't look at me or I will have to smash your face in and drag your ass out the broken window I came in. Then the neighbors would hear me so I would have to kill them to...... Fuck I did it again? sorry I need more than a candy bar maybe a soda to. I'm sorry next blog Ill focus less on killing you and more on killing other people. This has been your friend and every ones : Sean Time