Scoreboard

Hello there, I hope this is reaching you well. I am quite well myself. Each day in my life equals 3.5% on my score board. My score board is very private and personal to me. It’s those numbers in the sky again. Every day I don’t use I get three and a half percent. When I use it reduces to zero. I call that mental state Popsville. Popsville is a horrible place to live, full of voices and hallucinations, anguish and pain and regret and shame and remorse ad sinfulness. The Rarefied Atmosphere is much more pleasant. I’ve just been the pub before church for example, pregabbed up and loving every minute of it. I couldn’t dream of pubs and churches in Popsville. I’m at home with the rats for company in Popsville. I call it that because everybody has a pop at me, insulting my teeth, commanding me to do certain stuff I don’t want to do, and generally being ball-ache.

I call the collective name for all of my voices Katy. Katy is so powerful, she has all the voices covered in my Thought Prison. I once knew a golden soul of a person called Ricky. Once he asked me could he borrow six rollies. Not one, but six. That’s Ricky. But he also used to say this: “Andy, can you think of anything? Can I think of anything?” I said of course I can think of anything, I can think of a pink elephant with an Indian Princess riding it, throwing flowers out to a crowd of hungry beggars. And other stuff like that for example. But can I really? Why an elephant, way a dragon if I chose so? Is that all there is in the universe? I want to think of anything! Not stupid elephants and dragons, anything! In Popsville, with Zero Percent on the score board, I cannot think of a single thing, my mind goes blank, and that’s where the devil comes in, to bum me from the rear and empty my pockets when he reaches around. Lol.

In The Rarefied Atmosphere I can breathe and think. The vermin in my flat don’t bother me, I’m bigger and better than them. Walking into a predominantly white pub doesn’t annoy me, nothing gives me a headache; I’m fine all the time. No such thing as a bad day, because the Good Lord makes good days for his children. I truly believe that, and my faith sustains me. It is so uplifting to know Our Lord and Saviour, the loving Christ Jesus. I have just ate his flesh and drank his blood in communion. Oops! Sorry, Jesus. Don’t worry, it was just bread and cranberry juice. My protective spirit Apocto, sent from God, reminds me of eternal love, which she promised from the sky. I have two girls called Air Monroe guarding my score board. It’s a split soul, don’t ask me why there is two because that is another story. My number is currently 114%. I can live with that, it’s a candy-coated number to work with. Please say just a two-second prayer for me, so I can carry on. Thanks.