Also today, I had to travel to my grandparents' residence to fix an issue on their electronic easy-making machine many of us call 'a computer.' It turns out they had forgotten how to check their electronic mail and were ultimately confused by the prospects of refreshing a page, the transference of 'new mail' to 'read mail,' and so on and so forth. During the process, I was privy to a view of their online stock portfolio and my brain almost squirrelled its way out of my wee hole. The class of money we're talking about here is generally referred to by us poor folk as 'those people over there,' or 'the pompous shitlords who live up there on that hill yonder,' or 'teen celebrities.' I mean fuck.
My hallucinations and overall psychosis have been riotously worse over the past two weeks. I have woken up a number of times to a strange man standing over me and breathing loudly. There is constantly someone outside of my bedding room. I am paranoid beyond fuck-all, and the effort it takes to go outside for some Vitamin [insert letter corresponding with the nutrient supplied by the sun] has become catastrophic. I am in the worst mental shape of my life -including that time I had spine surgery and then my longtime lady friend ran off to another city because the prospects of a lover with spinal injuries disgusted her. This is worse by far, because in the end I realised we were never going to function due to that I would always categorise her as a passive-aggressive, stuck-up drama princess.
Also she met Jessica Simpson once at a clothing boutique and got a picture of them hugging and I definitely jacked it to that image more than once. I remember when I got that pic. I was working construction at the point and was rebuilding a burn-house's roof. I got the message with image attached, and stopped working for so long that my BFF and also my boss came over to look. They all McDealWithItted and I took my lunch fiesta early. We had McDonald's that day. I didn't think about food much. One time we had phone sex and I got so bored with it that I ended up playing vidya while she stroked her parts vigorously. We also had text sex, but that was even more boring so I went to the supermarket while that was going on. (At this point, we lived about 1750km apart, so actually flying to see one another and bang didn't happen all that often.)
I'm going to drink more and then watch Sherlock Holmes 2. The one with RDJ. I found that if I take enough drugs (prescription) or drink enough alcohol (definitely not prescription), I don't have as many hallucinations and I'm not as much psychotic.
Sometimes I try to explain to people that 'psychotic' does not mean I am a 'psychopath,' because the two are vastly different. 'Psycho' is short for 'psychopath' and not 'psychotic,' so there's no really-good word to describe what I am.
I don't know what I am either. Definitely fucked up. Certainly deranged. Absolutely single. Most obviously a person with zero boundaries. Also, I have a red beard. Other than that, I know fuck all about my identity.
But seriously, I'm taking off my pants now and watching Sherlock Holmes. I advise that you go fuck yourself (literally) and then have a martini.
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