Shut Up, So I Can Hear You

Most writers write badly because they tell us not only their thoughts but also the thinking of their thoughts.


Friedrich Nietzsche


What comes to your mind?

Screw the Golden Rule, Apply Wasabi Lubricant

Do not do unto others as you would that they should do unto you. Their tastes may not be the same.

George Bernard Shaw


What do you think?

Pope Denies Allegations, Offers to Settle out of Court

With or without religion, you would have good people doing good things and evil people doing evil things. But for good people to do evil things, that takes religion.

Steven Weinberg

What is your take?

It is as it is and so it is

Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.

George Bernard Shaw


Anything come to your mind?

It's Unbelieveable! I Found Purpose!

I joined SETI

Biggest Loser of the Bipolar Ring

Well it's official. I've just cruised through most of the members of the Bipolar Ring and it appears I'm the biggest loser. I guess I'm a low functioning bipolarite. It seems like so long ago that I had a wife, a house, a partnership in a small but successful tech company. I was earning 60k annually with year end profit distribution which ranged from 5k to 10k, not too bad for Florida. Now I reside in a transitional housing facility and live off $780 a month courtesy of Social Security. The building is situated under a highway over pass. Yes, I live under a bridge : ). Attached to the building is a soup kitchen. The parking lot is often populated with the homeless stretched out on the medians in filthy clothes awaiting the next food serving. I know this sounds like poor pitiful me. I am attempting to give an accurate description of my circumstances. It's the truth. I'm here writing this instead of turning to jello watching television. What is it that I have to say...it's becoming clearer that it doesn't really amount to much. You may not think I see the all the things I've got going for me, a place to stay, some money, forgot to mention I have transportation. This post is getting me down. Need to publish and start another rant.

I'm Scared Again

Suicide is once again a common thought. I have a soft rope resting above my ceiling tile. There is a small skeleton hanging by its' neck on my south wall. I can't help but be amused at the thought I had to get a soft textured rope to hang myself with. Seeing it in writing however makes me think that it's my way of having some control, some relief, in a life where if feels like I have little of either. I rent four walls, I live in a rectangular box approximately 11 x 22 which is contained within a transitional housing facility. I've been here since May of 05. PBS news is disturbingly present in the background as I attempt to bloodlet my soul. Is it there with the intent to keep me from being even more alone with myself? Yes that's probably it. No that's definitely it. I am in my night cycle ( bedding down in the early morning hours ) where things get dark and eerie after Charlie Rose signs off. I'm having a really hard time letting it flow, so many different thoughts, so many different paths I could-need-want to explore with my keyboard. And yet many times I feel like a potato, a void, unable to muster any meaningful thought beyond having the thought that I really don't have much thought, leaving me feeling inferior. I don't know if it's my condition that gets in the way of me following through most things that I begin. You see I don't know where I begin or exist apart from my condition. How can I possibly accept that I am inseparable from such a stigmatized plight? I know many people suffer from uncompleted project syndrome without the malady of mental illness. How do I know if and when my thoughts are within relative norms or when my debilitating depression is clouding all my sensory perceptions. I've been clean and sober since 10/25/04. It has NOT been a feat which has taken a great amount of effort. You could say I got scared straight. I went psychotic/paranoid/nuts which resulted in a few hospitalizations. It also cost me my marriage, my job, my dignity. I believe my drug and alcohol abuse was the impetus that sent me over the edge. The thought that I could slip into a state so far away normalcy is terrifying. Now I fear it could occur naturally. Could I possibly be so organically defective? That answer awaits me, perhaps never revealing itself. However the thought continues to loom ever present in the familiar recesses of my mind.
I've been trying to start this blog/journal for sometime now. I have this fantasy that it may lead to some social/cyber interaction and perhaps a career/purpose may result. I'm approaching my mid forties, I'm certified crazy. I receive $780.00 monthly, courtesy of Social Security due to " my condition". I'm getting a bit tired and my rear end is sore. I am feeling hopeful about continuing this effort regularly. I need to do this, I need to write, I need to discover who and what I am.
I will try and write about my past in the future to perhaps excise some of my guilt and make some sense out of the blur that is my past. This blog is intended to be a public journal. I don't know how if ever it will become recognized by any search appliance, one can only hope I suppose.