WRITING


  • The Second Step: an Admission (but not Confession of Guilt)

    As with many young boys in the age with computers amd telephones, from a young age, and almost as soon as I could, I developed an interest in photographs and videos, of women, of a sexual nature. I refuse to call it directly as the common term “pornography”, here, because that denotes an industry that…

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  • The First Step:

    Okay guys, here’s the deal, im very consistent on the point i made at age 20: I am what is called “the resurrection”, or “eternal return”. I am also the thief in the night that the bible talks about, and the host of the book of revelation. You guys locked me up for the experiences…

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  • Does TRUTH Just Serve Me?

    No. That’s not even about solipsism. That’s just blatant narcisism. Even lies run out of time.

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  • I am Thursday 17

    Writing up a journal from early this morning and trying to call it content. All I know is, it’s definitely after 3, and most likely well after 4, on this particular Thursday. I’m almost sure I witnessed this on my Fiio. Speaking of the DAC, I’ve got it on right now, with the volume up…

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  • A Slow, Dull Ache (Journal)

    16th It’s just after half four in the morning. Classic quetiapine. Yesterday, near the end of the day I bought a case of Harp and drank 4 or 5 of them. Took my quetiapine and woke up and here I am. I must have woke up almost an hour ago, but from 3.30am onwards, my…

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  • I am an Overly Positive Cynical Pessimist

    3:00PM I just emerged from our thoughts and feelings group. I learned a new and valuable insight about myself that relates to an aspect of my core character. I need to write this down before I lose it. My friend was talking about the disappointment felt when someone lets you down after making plans. The…

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  • The Voices Were Always Real

    So, after getting diagnosed 10 years ago with Schizophrenia, I would boast for the duration, that I never heard voices or saw things other people couldn’t see. This morning I went to the Methodist Church I grew up in in my early years. I never liked it back then, but there was something dramatically new…

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  • THE SONG OF DIRTY BIRDS

    Hot and lucid, I consider,The fact of my birth,The assumption of mirth,As I write this with a chill,I display cold facts,I am a veteran,Of overheard chats. Like I say,I willingly participate,In the chain of events that led me here,To the facts that will precipitate. The song of dirty birds,Leaden with my names.Proud, disgusting boastful,Never anything…

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  • I’m Human

    I’m human. (Written 6th March ’23) I am a living human life with all the bliss, beauty, highs, lows, enthrallment, and challenges that are inherent with one such form of life like this. As many others echo the chant “I am different”, as it may seem, lurks in the shadow because instead of a flashlight…

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  • A Sterile Excerpt from What I Am

    The UK government is paying for my silence, because at the end of the day reflecting into other realities, I’ve inherited a lad, broken may he be. Here he sits on treasure he got collected for him by the dragon. His sense organs are satiated by the dragon’s gifts. All he has to do is…

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  • Duty

    I would like to posit the following statement: that a sense of duty is a valuable tool that separates man from beast, and like wheat from chaff, a man from a useless man. I write this as a pile of chaff in the corner of the mill. This is an attempt to wake me up,…

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  • Amidst a Fading Cold

    I don’t think anyone, especially myself, wants to hear about the minute achievements that made up all the little routines that kept me going throughout the night. But they’re there, they kept my head screwed on, and PRAISE BE, I have my physical and mental health to some degree. Tomorrow I will also have a…

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