HEROIN IS A DRUG TO MAKE THE WORLD GO AWAY

THIS IS A BLOG ABOUT A LIFE WITHOUT HEROIN



Saturday, 18 July 2015

Divorce from the Self

HELLO it is a hot sticky Saturday afternoon I'm not in the mood to post anything but I'm here so why not. Oh my computer that I use every day STILL doesn't offer me internet access. If you're wondering why haven't I had it repaired it's because I've been too busy using Microsoft Word to hand it in to some repair person for two weeks. Also I don't want its memory to be wiped. I NEED Word on that machine. I've got a horrible feeling that absolutely every program on that thing is going to have to be deinstalled. Every single one. Wow, that's going to be fun. Because the antivirus or antispam thing is blocking internet access... blah blah it's a long story.

I don't know why but I found myself thinking about my past and feeling very kind of ... what's the word ... I dunno. Sorry for myself? Disgusted? Lost? Indulgent? Who knows?? Well that's the thing you see, I think my biggest problem in life has been that I'm separate and divorced from myself. This makes me incredibly "objective" and excellent at second-guessing myself. But terrible at actually knowing how I feel. Lousy at living a joined-up existence. And very bad indeed at being one person instead of a collection of perceptions scattered all over the place.

I think that's why I turned to drugs. (Correction: DRUG singular ~~ h
eroin.) It made me feel whole and I have never been that. When I went mad a few years ago I was hearing voices every day and the voices are a kind of separation from self. When I was really insane it was impossible to tell whether I was thinking, hearing or imagining somebody else's dream. Nowadays I only hear voices when I'm really tired (I'm not talking about a dream ~~ I mean I'm awake when I hear them, but maybe you could call it a waking dream.) I sometimes see things... but none of that bothers me. Depression bothers me sometimes. Insecurity used to bother me a LOT. But I'm still to this day separate from myself... so how am I ever going to find out WHO I AM???

I'm sorry to everyone I haven't been in touch with but after this I really have to run; I'm too scared of staying online. Don't you feel like you're being spied on? Or that the internet is sucking your life away? I think one day we'll all be washing dishes and get sucked down a digital plug hole swirling with the babbling memories of times past and then we'll get swooshed away into the communal sewers of 21st Century Blues and wonder where the hell our lives went. Know what I mean?

4 comments:

Z said...

I hope you can manage to accept yourself as you would a friend. For myself, I prefer to stay in the present rather than dwell on the past too much - thinking about happier times than now make me sad, thinking about difficult times makes me sad, trying to work out why I did things is unsettling. I can cope with the present, that's quite enough challenge.

Please don't be scared of being online. You have friends out here.

IBU RISKA said...

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Saya sangat bersyukur atas rahmat yg diberikan kepada saya dibulan ini karna alhamdulillah melalui MBAH RAWA GUMPALA saya sekaran sudah bisa sukses atas nomor yg diberikan kepada saya dan saya yg dulunya cuma seorang TKW dari singapur yg gajinya tidak pernah mencukupi kebutuhan keluarga saya dikampun dan alhamdulillah berkat bantuan MBAH RAWA GUMALA kini saya sudah bisa pulang kampun,saya bersama keluarga dikampun sudah punya usaha sendiri dan saya tidak pernah menyanka kalau saya bisah seperti ini,jika anda ingin seperti saya silahkan hubungi MBAH RAWA GUMPALA di nomor 085-316-106-111...karna alhamdulillah saya menan nomor togel dari MBAH dan kalau uang indonesia 750 juta,,ini bukan rekayasa dari saya dari IBU RISKA.untuk lebih lenkapnya silahkan buka SITUS MBAH RAWA GUMPALA

Gledwood said...

Hi Z I try and stay in the present. And manage it most of the time... :)

waufel said...

You are a fine person Mr.Gledwood and you're not alone. Keep on writing, there're a lot of silent readers out there.
🎩👜
Greetings from two old farts.