Earlier this week I worked a bookstore event that was in support of a charity that sends books to children in Ethiopia. The Author was so self-righteous and full of glowing reports of her success and how everything she touches is golden... she all but passed a petition begging for her canonization. The audience full of women with glowing eyes and children lost in the stacks making messes and more noise than necessary. Everyone in the room was sending out earsplitting vibes of "look at me, look at what a good person I am." The room was ice cold and nothing, but platitudes bounced off the walls.
If I were a believer, I'm certain I would go straight to hell for this reaction.
But I am not a believer.
I do not believe that people are good at heart;
so many have none.
I do not believe that life is good; keep the fucking stick figure away from me.
I do not believe that good things come from those who...insert what ever fucking banality one might wish to fill in the blank.
I believe that those who take for themselves, regardless the good of man, find happiness.
I believe some accidentally help man in the effort to touch themselves.
I believe that self-sacrifice is promise of sorrow.
I believe that one should never believe anything anyone says.
ever.
I believe nothing comes from kindness except by chance.
I believe in the laws of chaos,
Things happen,
and much of the time the things that happen suck hard.
I believe ignorance is the only path to bliss.
I believe I've encountered more wolves in sheep's clothing than a girl needs know to reach this point.
I believe it i my optimism, my hope for what might or should be instead of what is real, has been of no use.
I believe that when I finally really believe all that I think I believe and start living with myself in mind that I will be OK.
I believe this will never happen.
I believe I've learned to hate,
I believe hating is poison
I believe advice is never worth a shit less you walk directly in some one's shoes. Which can never happen, so...
I believe I don't know.
anything.
I believe I don't want to know
anything.
~PS~
after a good long sweaty run...I still feel pissy.
5 comments:
I want you to listen to Frou Frou. Let go, let go
Sounds to me like the housecleaning is on. Ride it out, pal. The extreme ends will pull in closer to a more liveable middle-ish eventually. Just hang on to you, and I'll be over here keeping an eye and ear on ya, awright?
L. Your depression is back. Your antidepressant dose needs to be adjusted or changed. Please don't be your own doctor.
w.
Please listen to w. (above). I quit antidepressants cold turkey some years ago and it was a bad decision. Why have you decided to go off them during this difficult tiem? Is someone giving you a hard time about them? Email me privately if you want to chat. I care about you. gjhpb AT hot mail DOT com.
L. I had to laugh this morning. I had not visited your site for awhile and missed the title of your last blog, "How the coming off antidepressants is going." I had just gone through the last two or three blogs and said 'WHOA' L.'s meds have stopped working:) Going back into depression is sometimes like settling into a warm bath. It feels soooo good to just let the rage flow. But its a chemical thing going on in the brain not a therapeutic thing. If you can, pick yourself up and regroup. Much Luck.
w.
Post a Comment