Suitably Fine

Hello everyone. I’m in a suitably fine place at the moment. I’ve just got one of the hardest weeks of my life out of the way. Now it’s onwards and upwards. Psychosis was the theme of the day today in Pathways. It seems that everyone has got it at the moment. Then why do I feel so alone with my personal affliction? Most people who admit that they have it don’t go into too much detail. Maybe because it’s just too bizarre to share eloquently. I’m sick to the back teeth of it. It’s cursed me for over the last decade of my life. The strange part is that it has nothing to do with my mental health. It causes bad mental health, but it’s not a cause of bad mental health.

Anyway, I stayed in throughout the whole day yesterday, deeming it too cold to go out. Several but not too many cans of alcohol were consumed. The night was a rolling terror fest fighting the presence underneath my bed; alas, I came through it to survive until the daybreak of morning. Now I’m up and active in the local library talking to your good self. I’ve signed up to a new course this afternoon related around anger management but to be honest I’m failing to be excited about it too much. I’m failing to be excited about anything really. I’m thinking that my purpose is merely to get through a struggle, and not enjoy any happiness or bliss. Sheer survival might be the order of the day. I imagine that I’m working in my sleep, space-hopping to different realms on some kind of secret intergalactic mission, making several other inhabitants of various realms aware of my plight. I pray for lucid dreams, and I’m getting rewarded. I’m waking up with my mind blown sometimes.

I used to keep a dreams diary, but I wrote it in writing too small to read. It was writing meant for a magnifying glass. I believe it was shielded by the subconscious somehow, to prevent it from interfering with the veridical. Or something like that. Now I keep meagre notes about the people I meet on the astral and the circumstances surrounding them. Often, by the time I have a rollie in my gob and a coffee in my hand, I have a complete story in my head of where I’ve been and what I’ve done.

My boy David Abraham used to say that dreams are simply the last remaining thoughts in your head which you have before you drift off to sleep. Try telling him about intergalactic space missions in the pit. David was a good Christian family guy, before his wife cheated on him and wrecked his home. I liked his wife, Natalie, she had a fondness for egg salads. You should have seen their wedding portraits on the wall, they were beautiful. I used to go round to their home and watch horror movies together. Natalie has moved back to Preston, but David has quickly remarried and had another child. He battered his child once on the football field, because he fouled another player. I mean, really battered him like. Punched him, kicked him, the lot, it was all a bit excessive. He didn’t come across as a very prominent Christian when he was doing that! He also like to take penalties with his big toe. You know, where you poke the ball with your toe. We used to call them toe-bungers when we were little. Big Bad Bob in the local youth club was king of the toe-bungers. He used to hit the post and claimed he scored a goal, because the post was painted onto the wall. Okay, that’s it. See ya next time out!