I'm In The Middle Of A Party!

I hope that the universe is treating you kindly today. I am having a decent afternoon so far, but as we all know that can turn on a tanner. Earlier, I thought I’d lost my wallet with a hundred pounds in. For a dubious moment, I was eavesdropping on my persecutory voices, waiting for the uproar in celebration. Fortunately, I found it. My wallet, that is. I seek perfection in all things I do, as one minor slip in mood brings forth glee from my oppressors. The fact that someone out there is enjoying my pitfalls and downturns make the pitfalls and the downturns doubly hard to manage. Having a tough old time of it is one thing, but your enemies, laughing as well, while they continually boot you in the bollocks with their dart-tipped lead wellies, is another.

My hygiene has been slipping and so has my abode. I haven’t completed a proper tidy-up in months. It would be cool, I think, to give the presences around me some decent nice luxurious surroundings for them to put their feet up in, as they torture me. It’s the least I can do. I feel like a pig swilling in mud sometimes, with my grimy carpets and smelly bathroom (the drains are blocked). And meanwhile, these glorious apparitions cast in angelic shimmery aura sit on my sofa, chewing my ears off. It makes for a stark contrast. I don’t know if they are TECHNOLOGICAL HOLOGRAMS from the government, or simple boring old ghosts. Whichever, they always look pristine.

Along with the covert brain weaponry being demonstrated on me, I appear to have been swept off my feet like Mary Poppins, and ditched down on some far-flung distant realm where anything is possible, including thought implantation, thought deletion, many other mystic afflictions to do with thought, and time control.

I continue, even though I am 60 days away from illicit drug use, to have uncanny and bizarre visions from the preternatural dimension. Their empire consists of the living, the dead and the fictional. One moment I am in physical pain, as people who are not there cause me grievous bodily harm; the next I am in Nirvana, being rescued by the torment by perceptions of happy children who want to talk to me. I cope with these madcap ‘hallucinations’ by consuming alcohol and nicotine. I’m finding joy in the small things, like food. My current favourite is battered fish with pepperoni pasta.

At least I’m not a couch potato anymore though, watching daytime TV all day long. With a mind as infected with other entities as mine, all with minds of their own, and those probably infected with other minds besides, then there really is no need for Oprah or Jeremy Kyle or Peston. Or The Daily Politics. Or The Sky At Night. Or all of the other garbage they air. Repeats, most of it, anyway. I used to like my television, I’d watch anything to keep my mind occupied, but now my mind is occupied with survival from alien races, mental illness, and gang-stalkers. That was my old life. Now, We’re In The New.