the ugly half of neurotic panic--
- unnerving as hell
- an illustration for a children's book
Saturday, February 28, 2004
the ugly half of neurotic panic--
- unnerving as hell
- an illustration for a children's book
the half-assed business plan: go out and buy this merchandise, write down that strategy, contact this lawyer by telephone, print all of this out, sign and send that paper out, buy a specific software, then sigh and try to stop being so nervous.
hire a different attorney versed in international law, send in massive orders for various essentials, and then fly to central asia on vacation to kill time and anxiety but instead write a destination guidebook while away.
return home to receive, assemble, package, and ship out product. note anything which has gone wrong and establish a plan which counters each circumstance. call in next order before flying to south east asia for a film project. pen second guidebook during those boring foreign late nights.
return home, place an advertisement soliciting help, hire a dependable employee, teach that employee how to receive, package, and ship out product. call in next order.
take chuck to london under the guise of a city break but use the trip maintain our property rental.
return home. add second product to the cycle while continuing on with the first and employ a second person. ship it all out. investigate minuscule statistics in finances and finally feel secure enough to cut my own personal paycheck.
at the end, i will have an income and a life.
fine.
why am i scared?
why isn't this exciting?
what is the problem? i cannot work for someone else, and so why attend to a position at a time prescribed by another person or wear their chosen uniform? could you imagine placing yourself in the position of employment where you are given a manual which defines workplace attire? seriously, how many people are considered to be so out of control that they essentially need to be told how to dress? apparently a lot. could you entertain enduring a situation where you are not in full control of all operations? why decide not to matter at what you do? why not be integral and own your own decision? why not decide to own all decisions?
all which needs to be done is for me to follow my own outline. obviously this outline differs from the sarcastic idea posted above, but in reality, i should plan to forgo sleep and peace until the new bank accounts prove i am productive.
fine, but... everything is a big risk.
consider:
life without a disability is such a big risk.
or, life with a disability is a much greater risk.
i was a nervous wreck just waiting in the car tonight when picking up chuck from work. younger drivers were acting obnoxious by squealing their tires. pedestrians can never seem to stay in crossing lanes and step out into traffic without a glance. car alarms were sounding. rambunctious children were barking along in time with the car alarms. chuck was late. i tried to merely skirt the edge by holding the top down on impending maniacal panic.
stay home, stay in.
disorder serves a safe purpose.
no, i'm almost bored to death.
"it's safe inside this house," says agoraphobia.
consider: why it's undoubtedly much safer to avail oneself to the outside.
how does one go about finding commercial office space to rent? what are the laws? can i get by with "just an office" or does it need to be specifically zoned? is it a waste of time to scan the classified ads? craigslist? is securing a rental in los angeles county a situation which entails dealing with a realtor? the location neither needs be desirable nor specific, but the office should consist of two secure rooms. it also requires access to a restroom-- whether it be en suite or located down a hallway. how much is this going to cost? is that price high per square foot? what is the average rent here? i am not looking for much, but am obsessive regarding intricate value.
am i confident enough to house stock, other business supplies, files, and a computer in an office away from my home? isn't that the whole point of having an office? would you think is it safe to disregard anxiety? should i be weird and work in the office overnight the first week to get a sense of potential crime and what happens in the area?
how does one go about hiring a regular employee to package orders? no, i mean 'beyond' the hiring process. what if that person is a thief? should i just do everything myself? if i did a background check on someone for a $10/hour packaging job would it look like i am overreacting? how typical is it to run a character check on employees? how does one go about trusting a key holder *even if* that employee has solid references? if an employee was valuable and i paid double the going rate because the work meant that much to me, would i look like a buffoon?
what if i really am blindsided by a situation not over analyzed? do i just buy great insurance to keep peace of mind? i have insurance now and lack peace of mind but if something actually happens and insurance pays my damages, how can this rectify a ruined reputation? am i the type to use a disaster to create an individual sense of a culture of poverty?
do i really want to act on my plans? if i did, wouldn't i have been proactive last year? perhaps i am not ready? perhaps this entry proves i am not in a calm enough state to proceed. or, does this paragraph prove i will worry so much that nothing will go wrong except for my very tentative way to process?
what if i lose everything and it results in my having no place to live?
- make a point of paying the insurance premiums.
- calm down! a business loss would not conflict with my home.
what if i get too much attention and freak out?
- if a publicist is needed, the business will be able to afford one.
what if i get sued?
- i will not get sued.
- the business has the potential to get sued.
- the business will be insured.
but i have several other upcoming projects and income from those...
- what is the life plan after that? nothing. do this.
[a billion other nervy questions go here]
[slashing them down to result in seemingly logical answers go here]
hire a different attorney versed in international law, send in massive orders for various essentials, and then fly to central asia on vacation to kill time and anxiety but instead write a destination guidebook while away.
return home to receive, assemble, package, and ship out product. note anything which has gone wrong and establish a plan which counters each circumstance. call in next order before flying to south east asia for a film project. pen second guidebook during those boring foreign late nights.
return home, place an advertisement soliciting help, hire a dependable employee, teach that employee how to receive, package, and ship out product. call in next order.
take chuck to london under the guise of a city break but use the trip maintain our property rental.
return home. add second product to the cycle while continuing on with the first and employ a second person. ship it all out. investigate minuscule statistics in finances and finally feel secure enough to cut my own personal paycheck.
at the end, i will have an income and a life.
fine.
why am i scared?
why isn't this exciting?
what is the problem? i cannot work for someone else, and so why attend to a position at a time prescribed by another person or wear their chosen uniform? could you imagine placing yourself in the position of employment where you are given a manual which defines workplace attire? seriously, how many people are considered to be so out of control that they essentially need to be told how to dress? apparently a lot. could you entertain enduring a situation where you are not in full control of all operations? why decide not to matter at what you do? why not be integral and own your own decision? why not decide to own all decisions?
all which needs to be done is for me to follow my own outline. obviously this outline differs from the sarcastic idea posted above, but in reality, i should plan to forgo sleep and peace until the new bank accounts prove i am productive.
fine, but... everything is a big risk.
consider:
life without a disability is such a big risk.
or, life with a disability is a much greater risk.
i was a nervous wreck just waiting in the car tonight when picking up chuck from work. younger drivers were acting obnoxious by squealing their tires. pedestrians can never seem to stay in crossing lanes and step out into traffic without a glance. car alarms were sounding. rambunctious children were barking along in time with the car alarms. chuck was late. i tried to merely skirt the edge by holding the top down on impending maniacal panic.
stay home, stay in.
disorder serves a safe purpose.
no, i'm almost bored to death.
"it's safe inside this house," says agoraphobia.
consider: why it's undoubtedly much safer to avail oneself to the outside.
how does one go about finding commercial office space to rent? what are the laws? can i get by with "just an office" or does it need to be specifically zoned? is it a waste of time to scan the classified ads? craigslist? is securing a rental in los angeles county a situation which entails dealing with a realtor? the location neither needs be desirable nor specific, but the office should consist of two secure rooms. it also requires access to a restroom-- whether it be en suite or located down a hallway. how much is this going to cost? is that price high per square foot? what is the average rent here? i am not looking for much, but am obsessive regarding intricate value.
am i confident enough to house stock, other business supplies, files, and a computer in an office away from my home? isn't that the whole point of having an office? would you think is it safe to disregard anxiety? should i be weird and work in the office overnight the first week to get a sense of potential crime and what happens in the area?
how does one go about hiring a regular employee to package orders? no, i mean 'beyond' the hiring process. what if that person is a thief? should i just do everything myself? if i did a background check on someone for a $10/hour packaging job would it look like i am overreacting? how typical is it to run a character check on employees? how does one go about trusting a key holder *even if* that employee has solid references? if an employee was valuable and i paid double the going rate because the work meant that much to me, would i look like a buffoon?
what if i really am blindsided by a situation not over analyzed? do i just buy great insurance to keep peace of mind? i have insurance now and lack peace of mind but if something actually happens and insurance pays my damages, how can this rectify a ruined reputation? am i the type to use a disaster to create an individual sense of a culture of poverty?
do i really want to act on my plans? if i did, wouldn't i have been proactive last year? perhaps i am not ready? perhaps this entry proves i am not in a calm enough state to proceed. or, does this paragraph prove i will worry so much that nothing will go wrong except for my very tentative way to process?
what if i lose everything and it results in my having no place to live?
- make a point of paying the insurance premiums.
- calm down! a business loss would not conflict with my home.
what if i get too much attention and freak out?
- if a publicist is needed, the business will be able to afford one.
what if i get sued?
- i will not get sued.
- the business has the potential to get sued.
- the business will be insured.
but i have several other upcoming projects and income from those...
- what is the life plan after that? nothing. do this.
[a billion other nervy questions go here]
[slashing them down to result in seemingly logical answers go here]
the day before my lease ends it is reasonable to feel my world is over.
[deleted: five thousand words of fear explaining the urgent need to assemble new plans and complete current projects in order to support my new lease. i forced change by putting myself in a situation where 'just going out and getting a regular job' would never come close to covering the rent. thought i have purposely set myself in this situation, i continue to feign disinterest in 'tangible things' but may need to have them to sustain the process. i fear growing accustomed to physical items or luxury and roll my eyes at those who can enjoy it-- blowing off their situation as too rich. excessive. a very fat life. what if physical items get taken away? what if the comfortable lifestyle isn't sustainable? having nothing is a twisted way for me to counter the possible threat of deprivation. it appears death must actually lurk inside of my home rather than outside... etc...]
what have i done?
[sidebar: my thoughts keep returning to an underweight millionaire i once knew who rented a closet-sized room in notscott's mother's home. he could not open the door to his room fully because the space was so small it would hit his twin-sized bed. when the house was sold and the man needed to move out, notscott's mother appeared not to care, and was under the impression that since he had bags of money socked away, it equated the ability to just go and rent the first place he found.
is it not obvious the man needed to rent a 'space' somewhere at his similar monthly rent of $300 and not lease a $1500 per month apartment down the block? his future living situation was no one else's concern, but to this day i am appalled by notscott's mother's complete lack of BRAIN. she (was clearly not trying to ease things in her own mind about his future and) kept reciting that the man could get a better place and seemed excited at his possibilities. (?!) i think about him all of the time and wonder if he is still waiting for it to be safe enough to go, do, and have.]
if i continued to live in a small condo where my monthly bills totaled virtually nothing per month, there would have been no reason to try. easily another year of mine would pass by without facilitating dramatic changes. if there is no stretching required, why reach? this blog is at least good for that-- i see that i am sick of writing about improving my situation. i am tired of saying "i don't know how" when i do know that it is impossible to have every answer prior to taking the first step. i am tired of feeling that i may appear as lazy as the people i criticize. like i told someone last year, "why don't you stop writing about what you want to do and instead go do it. possibly then your blog would be interesting." ouch. alrighty then, i hear me.
when the other shoe drops, i catch it, so what is the problem (...aside from fearing the telephone, the arrogant yet incompetent staff working the counters at the local post office, and threats of ultraviolet radiation). i immediately read people and perpetually maneuver them with vocabulary. for two years now i have logged in to blogger to document the stupidity seen when outside, but yet i stay indoors and worry-- this has to stop today.
[deleted: five thousand words of fear explaining the urgent need to assemble new plans and complete current projects in order to support my new lease. i forced change by putting myself in a situation where 'just going out and getting a regular job' would never come close to covering the rent. thought i have purposely set myself in this situation, i continue to feign disinterest in 'tangible things' but may need to have them to sustain the process. i fear growing accustomed to physical items or luxury and roll my eyes at those who can enjoy it-- blowing off their situation as too rich. excessive. a very fat life. what if physical items get taken away? what if the comfortable lifestyle isn't sustainable? having nothing is a twisted way for me to counter the possible threat of deprivation. it appears death must actually lurk inside of my home rather than outside... etc...]
what have i done?
[sidebar: my thoughts keep returning to an underweight millionaire i once knew who rented a closet-sized room in notscott's mother's home. he could not open the door to his room fully because the space was so small it would hit his twin-sized bed. when the house was sold and the man needed to move out, notscott's mother appeared not to care, and was under the impression that since he had bags of money socked away, it equated the ability to just go and rent the first place he found.
is it not obvious the man needed to rent a 'space' somewhere at his similar monthly rent of $300 and not lease a $1500 per month apartment down the block? his future living situation was no one else's concern, but to this day i am appalled by notscott's mother's complete lack of BRAIN. she (was clearly not trying to ease things in her own mind about his future and) kept reciting that the man could get a better place and seemed excited at his possibilities. (?!) i think about him all of the time and wonder if he is still waiting for it to be safe enough to go, do, and have.]
if i continued to live in a small condo where my monthly bills totaled virtually nothing per month, there would have been no reason to try. easily another year of mine would pass by without facilitating dramatic changes. if there is no stretching required, why reach? this blog is at least good for that-- i see that i am sick of writing about improving my situation. i am tired of saying "i don't know how" when i do know that it is impossible to have every answer prior to taking the first step. i am tired of feeling that i may appear as lazy as the people i criticize. like i told someone last year, "why don't you stop writing about what you want to do and instead go do it. possibly then your blog would be interesting." ouch. alrighty then, i hear me.
when the other shoe drops, i catch it, so what is the problem (...aside from fearing the telephone, the arrogant yet incompetent staff working the counters at the local post office, and threats of ultraviolet radiation). i immediately read people and perpetually maneuver them with vocabulary. for two years now i have logged in to blogger to document the stupidity seen when outside, but yet i stay indoors and worry-- this has to stop today.
Friday, February 27, 2004
after finishing illustrations for the week there is no doubt i am a stoner who now can do nasal socal promos for indie 103.1 FM or create spongmonkeys ads for quiznos restaurant.
how i hate scrambling for a drivers license or second form of photo identification when standing at a check out register. i was just carded at walmart for buying sharpie permanent markers. that's odd. california has no state law regulating the purchase of indelible ink. the computerized cash registers never require the cashiers to card at michael's arts and crafts or at any of the upscale art supply stores in the gallery district.
if walmart actually believed that their practice of 'refusing to sell specific items to underage minors' would interfere with the harm caused to property or themselves, then why not request identification for the various bleaching agents, automobile solvents, razors, staples, and primatene mist tablets they sell? a lot of damage could be done with zip ties and the power tools sold in the hardware section. why not nod to the perspective of 'the people for a more perfect world' and card over the purchase of trans fats found in prepackaged snacks, sugary soda pops, or the easy-to-overdose chewable children's vitamins with iron?
the confliction is how this identification policy seems implemented in an effort to promote an image of community or proactivity, when many other facets of walmart's public presentation need rectification first.
i could scatter a lot of corporate store and big box sprawl hate today, but this five count package of markers only cost $1.87 at walmart. i fall for it. i chose to shop there. i am not going to pay $5.99 at michael's arts and crafts for a two-pack or $7.99 at dick blick's for the identical item. i doubt committing to only buying walmart's loss leader or sale items keeps them in business, but i do contribute as a consumer. certainly i wasn't mesmerized by the scent of plastic shoes and inadvertently swayed into purchasing items i had not intended to buy, etc... etc...
it was good to get out of the house and look at real people. i can neither reinforce what a normal body size is in my mind, nor even excite any rigidity when only stepping through my own tilted mirror.
these fumes from sharpies and the cartoon artwork they help to create could be my problem-- perhaps i am surreptitiously using their application as a recreational drug use.
or, perhaps not.
perhaps a considerable portion of the population really does weigh in at 350 pounds and my eating disorder needs to maintain less than one quarter of their obesity due to fear.
if walmart actually believed that their practice of 'refusing to sell specific items to underage minors' would interfere with the harm caused to property or themselves, then why not request identification for the various bleaching agents, automobile solvents, razors, staples, and primatene mist tablets they sell? a lot of damage could be done with zip ties and the power tools sold in the hardware section. why not nod to the perspective of 'the people for a more perfect world' and card over the purchase of trans fats found in prepackaged snacks, sugary soda pops, or the easy-to-overdose chewable children's vitamins with iron?
the confliction is how this identification policy seems implemented in an effort to promote an image of community or proactivity, when many other facets of walmart's public presentation need rectification first.
i could scatter a lot of corporate store and big box sprawl hate today, but this five count package of markers only cost $1.87 at walmart. i fall for it. i chose to shop there. i am not going to pay $5.99 at michael's arts and crafts for a two-pack or $7.99 at dick blick's for the identical item. i doubt committing to only buying walmart's loss leader or sale items keeps them in business, but i do contribute as a consumer. certainly i wasn't mesmerized by the scent of plastic shoes and inadvertently swayed into purchasing items i had not intended to buy, etc... etc...
it was good to get out of the house and look at real people. i can neither reinforce what a normal body size is in my mind, nor even excite any rigidity when only stepping through my own tilted mirror.
these fumes from sharpies and the cartoon artwork they help to create could be my problem-- perhaps i am surreptitiously using their application as a recreational drug use.
or, perhaps not.
perhaps a considerable portion of the population really does weigh in at 350 pounds and my eating disorder needs to maintain less than one quarter of their obesity due to fear.
fact: flagrant carries LIFEBOX to visit dorky psychiatrist guy named ben.
- doctor ben is wearing the ugliest brown checked oxford shirt.
- flagrant is wearing her famously ripped, turkish cappadocia pants.
- psychological hell of DAILY LIFE is evaluated.
prior medication results are questioned:
paxil?
suicidal intention, emergency room caliber depression.
zoloft?
reduced obsessions, lost weight, increased trichotillomania, hair loss.
amitriptyline?
insatiable hunger but lost weight, nightmares, tics, increased eyelash pulling, experienced rage.
nortriptyline?
refused to take it, scared due to previous experience with amitriptyline.
neurontin?
elevated mood, reduced hunger, but developed dangerous maculopapular rash.
xanax?
paradoxical reaction to the benzodiazepine, ran 10 miles more than usual, insomnia.
consider: tricyclics, ssri antidepressant medications, disastrous side effects?
consider: how they are magical for some disorders.
flagrant thinks: eye won't be depressed AND give myflagrant LIFEBOX akathisia. eye won't sabotage myflagrant LIFEBOX with pills offering the propensity for weight gain.
consider: weight gain with elevated mood --> danger, danger!
fact: most everyone has some type of side effect.
consider: myflagrant hypersensitivity?
consider: suck it up and try again?
- LIFEBOX is restless.
- flagrant hands LIFEBOX a tissue to roll between fingerparts.
- flagrant uses the word allergies rather than side effects.
- ta da! the 'difficult patient' lump is avoided through vocabulary.
- eyeparts settle on photograph of doctor ben's googly-looking children.
flagrant thinks: god, eye am just rotten to the core.
doctor ben says: "your diagnosis of anorexia nervosa requires me to offer an inpatient clinic referral."
- agoraphobia is discussed.
- old stalker problem is brought up.
- old fashionable employment reinforces the paranoia of imperfection.
- doctor ben agrees agoraphobia is LOGICAL RESULT of SCARY SITUATIONS.
doctor ben says: "i can prescribe 10 outpatient therapy sessions at a time--"
doctor ben says: "but we only offer directed cognitive behavioral therapy."
note: nobody ever asks what eye can actually do now.
note: eye can do and did.
note: eye will do and more.
note: DAILY LIFE would be FINE if...
consider: if anorexia could be as personal as eye suggest it is.
consider: if eye could stop donating so much money!
consider: if eye could allow myflagrantself to simply have without guilt.
- fear of driving is discussed.
- fear of being looked at and going outside during the daylight is discussed.
- suggestion of gluten intolerance is somewhat cast aside.
note: avoiding wheat, a gluten solution, does not benefit doctor ben.
note: even though instances of trichotillomania are related to gluten and tartrazine.
note: anxieties and impulse control is definitely related to certain food colorings.
- doctor ben actually realizes severity of agoraphobic limitations.
doctor ben asks: "why haven't you killed yourself?"
- flagrant tries to keep eyeparts from returning to hysterical muppet photograph.
note: the hardest but most realistic question.
- questions turns into a statement and feels somehow permissive.
note: this makes flagrantme feel late, slow, and like eye need a good shake.
note: this makes flagrantme think eye missed the sign.
note: this feels as though eye should have known, done, and gone.
note: this makes flagrantme think that eye live amongst liars.
consider: were there too many signs and now they blur into landscape?
flagrant thinks: eye can't sell myflagrantself so don't ask flagrantme that.
- flagrant has not starved enough to shield emotions from hurt.
consider: there are many benefits to the question of suicide.
rule: when OUT THERE one must be prepared in triplicate.
- fingerparts fumble with trump card.
flagrant says: "myflagrant difficulties could be one million times worse."
doctor ben says: "for instance...?"
- well, c'mon...
- losing body parts or limbs after decades of DAILY LIFE.
- having been locked in someone else's box.
- born without options, rather than having and then not putting to task.
- not being able to command a dream.
- moral turpitude combined with ability and being able to dream too much.
note: trump card is played.
flagrant says: "for instance eye could be stuck working for this low paying HMO."
flagrant says: "or have been addicted to schedule III and IV controlled substances."
flagrant says: "that eye prescribed in the names of myflagrant family members."
flagrant says: "or once had DEA registrant actions filed against flagrantme."
- doctor ben says NOTHING.
- LIFEBOX silently shrieks with laughter.
- armparts get secretly pinched to dissociate and replace clenching INSIDE PAIN.
flagrant thinks: boy, that'd suck to be you then AND now.
- eyeparts close.
flagrant says: "there are so many varieties, and spectruming of hell."
flagrant says: "i need long term, weekly freudian analysis with an MD/PhD."
doctor ben says: "i know, but we don't provide that here."
doctor ben says: "i can't even give you an outside referral."
- a business card is handed over.
- flagrant considers american psycho, videotapes, and bret easton ellis.
- doctor ben suggests future prescriptions can easily be filled by phone!
- including xanax or any other benzodiazepine.
- including prescription skin potions, serums, and lotions.
fact: prescriptions from kaiser permanente are only five dollars.
consider: life is 60% great, but can that other 40% kill flagrantme?
consider: obsess over the question of suicide?
consider: being a jerk donates half of a great afternoon?
- doctor ben is wearing the ugliest brown checked oxford shirt.
- flagrant is wearing her famously ripped, turkish cappadocia pants.
- psychological hell of DAILY LIFE is evaluated.
prior medication results are questioned:
paxil?
suicidal intention, emergency room caliber depression.
zoloft?
reduced obsessions, lost weight, increased trichotillomania, hair loss.
amitriptyline?
insatiable hunger but lost weight, nightmares, tics, increased eyelash pulling, experienced rage.
nortriptyline?
refused to take it, scared due to previous experience with amitriptyline.
neurontin?
elevated mood, reduced hunger, but developed dangerous maculopapular rash.
xanax?
paradoxical reaction to the benzodiazepine, ran 10 miles more than usual, insomnia.
consider: tricyclics, ssri antidepressant medications, disastrous side effects?
consider: how they are magical for some disorders.
flagrant thinks: eye won't be depressed AND give myflagrant LIFEBOX akathisia. eye won't sabotage myflagrant LIFEBOX with pills offering the propensity for weight gain.
consider: weight gain with elevated mood --> danger, danger!
fact: most everyone has some type of side effect.
consider: myflagrant hypersensitivity?
consider: suck it up and try again?
- LIFEBOX is restless.
- flagrant hands LIFEBOX a tissue to roll between fingerparts.
- flagrant uses the word allergies rather than side effects.
- ta da! the 'difficult patient' lump is avoided through vocabulary.
- eyeparts settle on photograph of doctor ben's googly-looking children.
flagrant thinks: god, eye am just rotten to the core.
doctor ben says: "your diagnosis of anorexia nervosa requires me to offer an inpatient clinic referral."
- agoraphobia is discussed.
- old stalker problem is brought up.
- old fashionable employment reinforces the paranoia of imperfection.
- doctor ben agrees agoraphobia is LOGICAL RESULT of SCARY SITUATIONS.
doctor ben says: "i can prescribe 10 outpatient therapy sessions at a time--"
doctor ben says: "but we only offer directed cognitive behavioral therapy."
note: nobody ever asks what eye can actually do now.
note: eye can do and did.
note: eye will do and more.
note: DAILY LIFE would be FINE if...
consider: if anorexia could be as personal as eye suggest it is.
consider: if eye could stop donating so much money!
consider: if eye could allow myflagrantself to simply have without guilt.
- fear of driving is discussed.
- fear of being looked at and going outside during the daylight is discussed.
- suggestion of gluten intolerance is somewhat cast aside.
note: avoiding wheat, a gluten solution, does not benefit doctor ben.
note: even though instances of trichotillomania are related to gluten and tartrazine.
note: anxieties and impulse control is definitely related to certain food colorings.
- doctor ben actually realizes severity of agoraphobic limitations.
doctor ben asks: "why haven't you killed yourself?"
- flagrant tries to keep eyeparts from returning to hysterical muppet photograph.
note: the hardest but most realistic question.
- questions turns into a statement and feels somehow permissive.
note: this makes flagrantme feel late, slow, and like eye need a good shake.
note: this makes flagrantme think eye missed the sign.
note: this feels as though eye should have known, done, and gone.
note: this makes flagrantme think that eye live amongst liars.
consider: were there too many signs and now they blur into landscape?
flagrant thinks: eye can't sell myflagrantself so don't ask flagrantme that.
- flagrant has not starved enough to shield emotions from hurt.
consider: there are many benefits to the question of suicide.
rule: when OUT THERE one must be prepared in triplicate.
- fingerparts fumble with trump card.
flagrant says: "myflagrant difficulties could be one million times worse."
doctor ben says: "for instance...?"
- well, c'mon...
- losing body parts or limbs after decades of DAILY LIFE.
- having been locked in someone else's box.
- born without options, rather than having and then not putting to task.
- not being able to command a dream.
- moral turpitude combined with ability and being able to dream too much.
note: trump card is played.
flagrant says: "for instance eye could be stuck working for this low paying HMO."
flagrant says: "or have been addicted to schedule III and IV controlled substances."
flagrant says: "that eye prescribed in the names of myflagrant family members."
flagrant says: "or once had DEA registrant actions filed against flagrantme."
- doctor ben says NOTHING.
- LIFEBOX silently shrieks with laughter.
- armparts get secretly pinched to dissociate and replace clenching INSIDE PAIN.
flagrant thinks: boy, that'd suck to be you then AND now.
- eyeparts close.
flagrant says: "there are so many varieties, and spectruming of hell."
flagrant says: "i need long term, weekly freudian analysis with an MD/PhD."
doctor ben says: "i know, but we don't provide that here."
doctor ben says: "i can't even give you an outside referral."
- a business card is handed over.
- flagrant considers american psycho, videotapes, and bret easton ellis.
- doctor ben suggests future prescriptions can easily be filled by phone!
- including xanax or any other benzodiazepine.
- including prescription skin potions, serums, and lotions.
fact: prescriptions from kaiser permanente are only five dollars.
consider: life is 60% great, but can that other 40% kill flagrantme?
consider: obsess over the question of suicide?
consider: being a jerk donates half of a great afternoon?
i miss being able but maybe there was never a time.
i don't like you tristan. you are worthless pointless and stupid. you take up too much space and i wish you were dead. i wish you have a long duration of pain before you die. failure. most everyone can live life and you cannot even do that.
for four hours my car was parked near the cement wall which should have killed me last march. the gasoline ending. you know, it was just too busy. really i don't know what is supposed to happen when my body is live anxiety and i do not want to die but yet don't want to be here either. write? paint? my hand on paper only creates the convincing words.
three days before making changes in life and living arrangement, i find out that this is indeed the wrong answer and no, my feet aren't cold. no, i don't want to play fair and instead wish to have it both ways but yet on top of that, also never be called on it. now i have to find a way to deal with the fact that a little bit of ability brings a tiny bit of responsibility. i'm not scared of it. i just don't want to do it and really resent not being able to play dirty any longer. so now this i will try.
tired of obnoxious.
tired of fucked up.
tired of thinking kill me kill me kill me all day long.
i don't like you, don't mean it.
tired of different
don't want to be similar.
a slobbering mess.
was i worth space... or to think i could ever count?
why the poor me?
shrug it off- i just get like this.
hiccup and sniff and wipe
swollen lump snuff
and i'm fucked because i deserve today.
straight ahead
solid concrete, maybe.
you know, i never looked.
tired of fucked up.
tired of thinking kill me kill me kill me all day long.
i don't like you, don't mean it.
tired of different
don't want to be similar.
a slobbering mess.
was i worth space... or to think i could ever count?
why the poor me?
shrug it off- i just get like this.
hiccup and sniff and wipe
swollen lump snuff
and i'm fucked because i deserve today.
straight ahead
solid concrete, maybe.
you know, i never looked.
Thursday, February 26, 2004
rage. what do i know about rage?
... removal of limbs.
... stirring blood on my palm.
... watching it smear, dry, and turn brown.
... the scent of metal.
... hearing someone scream, or maybe the terror which happens the second before a person realizes i am serious and will not be stopping.
mm-hmm, that's what i will like.
nope and i'm not sorry. i'd probably be somewhat shocked:
... oh my god.
... it's too late, i might as well continue.
... this death is probably better than the living.
... i would apt to be punished anyway.
... get it over with.
mm-hmm, that's what i don't like.
do you think there are many people confined to homes of the deranged undergoing unfathomable forms of torture? is it myth? are there many? some? six? 60? 6000?
i want someone bound but i don't want to cut them slowly- it has to be a traumatic blow with spray of blood right in my face. it will be an act of anger, not an act of experiment or study even though i want to look at them over the course of a week and record their nonsensical blubbering on my mind. i feel that after two weeks of living and enduring me, finally killing the person would be a gift and because of that, this is where i find the loss. i can't allow that charity act.
it's very cold now. do you know?
... removal of limbs.
... stirring blood on my palm.
... watching it smear, dry, and turn brown.
... the scent of metal.
... hearing someone scream, or maybe the terror which happens the second before a person realizes i am serious and will not be stopping.
mm-hmm, that's what i will like.
nope and i'm not sorry. i'd probably be somewhat shocked:
... oh my god.
... it's too late, i might as well continue.
... this death is probably better than the living.
... i would apt to be punished anyway.
... get it over with.
mm-hmm, that's what i don't like.
do you think there are many people confined to homes of the deranged undergoing unfathomable forms of torture? is it myth? are there many? some? six? 60? 6000?
i want someone bound but i don't want to cut them slowly- it has to be a traumatic blow with spray of blood right in my face. it will be an act of anger, not an act of experiment or study even though i want to look at them over the course of a week and record their nonsensical blubbering on my mind. i feel that after two weeks of living and enduring me, finally killing the person would be a gift and because of that, this is where i find the loss. i can't allow that charity act.
it's very cold now. do you know?
Wednesday, February 25, 2004
it is overwhelming to research the subjects of gluten intolerance and corn free diets only to discern that little nuances (which have not fit in the eating disorder jigsaw puzzle) are clearly defined on lists of foods which are not safe for a celiac (person with a gluten intolerance) to eat.
one example: there have probably been twenty physical shoving type of fights in my life (with people considered family) only because i cannot tolerate the sliced turkey breast topped salads served at subway restaurants. something about that particular food never sat right in my body. i would feel physically sick and my mind was just wrought with terrible anxiety. to complicate matters, without any issue, i could eat turkey breast, lettuce, and pickles if those ingredients were purchased at a grocery store and placed on a salad which was assembled at home.
my eating disorder could never successfully argue against having the 120 calorie subway salad for dinner if nothing else had been ingested for the day. family would supply a subway salad (even though i would decline) and something would happen after a bite or two. i would become agitated, feel a need to act on an akathisia stemming from my mouth and neck, and then violently throw the salad into the sink-- or i would fully eat the dinner to make family happy, but then immediately purge to make myself happy. i would appear crazy because at the time, my eating disorder really had no problem with keeping in 120 calories over the course of one day. i could never get subway salad in or manage to keep it down, and this didn't have a logical reason since everyone knew i could manage eat the individual ingredients. something about the salad was wrong but the situation (or rigidity of anorexia nervosa) became the perpetual scapegoat.
on the two occasions where i have had success with subway restaurant foods, it occurred with their roast beef topped salads. after those two successes, it forever looked as though what i said about my food didn't matter. it appeared i was being a bitch or provoking a problem on the previous occasions. keeping the roast beef version down did not appear to make any sense as its calorie contents were slightly higher than the turkey version of the same salad. today i found out that the subway turkey breast has gluten, but their roast beef does not.
example: forever i have complained that there shall be no hunt's brand ketchup or any other second rate versions of that condiment in my home. only heinz. why? i never allow myself to ingest ketchup but the packets from friend's fast food meals must follow this rule, too. they are not allowed in my home if any brand other than heinz. i am notorious for that statement and of course end up appearing to be a food snob as, unless on sale, heinz branded products always cost more than hunt's foods. today i read that heinz ketchup is gluten-free, but the hunt's brand ketchup is not. my list of "food quirks not related to calories" and their relationship to gluten intolerance just goes on and on and on. another thing i find interesting is how my body *knew* but obviously only had *refusal* on hand to articulate the problem.
this year i have finally found out that arm & hammer toothpaste and banana boat sunblock do not interfere by causing a rash, or break out my face in tiny whiteheads. both products are found to be gluten-free. all of the other tried varieties of toothpaste, colgate total in particular, are listed on various websites as unsafe for celiacs. it should also be noted that workers at subway restaurants wear plastic gloves when preparing foods, but do use latex gloves if the manager is cheap. i have a known latex allergy. now had i ever entered the subway restaurant and watched my food's preparation rather than waiting out in the car while family secured it for me, this would have been noticed much earlier.
this is so weird... it's like all along, all food which "my body decided to reject" is correct and reasonable. i feel somewhat victorious, and part of me wants to call people who are no longer in my life, just to announce the reason which was behind most of the bad days we shared. on the other hand, i have a lot wrapped up into being "severely anorexic" and as a labeled individual, it comes in handy as a great weapon.
my parents recently brought it to my attention that when growing up, i would only eat boiled vegetables (gluten-free) and for sweets, i would eat straight granulated sugar out of the bag (gluten-free) or bit-o-honey candy (formerly gluten-free). they did not appreciate my rigidity and started punishing me by forcing breads (gluten) or macaroni and cheese (gluten/dairy/food coloring) for meals. what were those people thinking?
i also seem to remember having to choke down twelve uncle buck-sized pancakes every saturday morning. when shipped off to camp one summer, it was quite confusing for me to see that overweight people only ate pancakes one at a time, and did not chow down several plates of pancakes in stacks of 4-6 like us scrawny kids. one week i stayed at that german camp, i was ravenous and lost 11 pounds by eating what the counselors fed me. my parents subsequently had a fit. most of my sundays growing up meant "not leaving the table" until eating five jelly-filled donuts or apple fritters. weekend mornings seemed to revolve about bread. french toast with maple syrup and too much butter. english muffins with butter and smears of chunky peanut butter. i hated it all. it was drilled into my head that breads and grains (gluten) were not a problem, rather, i was a problem in relationship to those foods and needed to change my attitude.
today i feel enlightened yet simultaneously furious at people who would reject my opinions about food. family would interfere by substituting whatever was cheapest or easiest for them to acquire back when i was basically housebound, sick, and screaming that people were not listening to me. cry, laugh, punch someone... i'm not sure how i feel or what to feel. cry, i guess. it's an understatement to say these problems have been bad.
one example: there have probably been twenty physical shoving type of fights in my life (with people considered family) only because i cannot tolerate the sliced turkey breast topped salads served at subway restaurants. something about that particular food never sat right in my body. i would feel physically sick and my mind was just wrought with terrible anxiety. to complicate matters, without any issue, i could eat turkey breast, lettuce, and pickles if those ingredients were purchased at a grocery store and placed on a salad which was assembled at home.
my eating disorder could never successfully argue against having the 120 calorie subway salad for dinner if nothing else had been ingested for the day. family would supply a subway salad (even though i would decline) and something would happen after a bite or two. i would become agitated, feel a need to act on an akathisia stemming from my mouth and neck, and then violently throw the salad into the sink-- or i would fully eat the dinner to make family happy, but then immediately purge to make myself happy. i would appear crazy because at the time, my eating disorder really had no problem with keeping in 120 calories over the course of one day. i could never get subway salad in or manage to keep it down, and this didn't have a logical reason since everyone knew i could manage eat the individual ingredients. something about the salad was wrong but the situation (or rigidity of anorexia nervosa) became the perpetual scapegoat.
on the two occasions where i have had success with subway restaurant foods, it occurred with their roast beef topped salads. after those two successes, it forever looked as though what i said about my food didn't matter. it appeared i was being a bitch or provoking a problem on the previous occasions. keeping the roast beef version down did not appear to make any sense as its calorie contents were slightly higher than the turkey version of the same salad. today i found out that the subway turkey breast has gluten, but their roast beef does not.
example: forever i have complained that there shall be no hunt's brand ketchup or any other second rate versions of that condiment in my home. only heinz. why? i never allow myself to ingest ketchup but the packets from friend's fast food meals must follow this rule, too. they are not allowed in my home if any brand other than heinz. i am notorious for that statement and of course end up appearing to be a food snob as, unless on sale, heinz branded products always cost more than hunt's foods. today i read that heinz ketchup is gluten-free, but the hunt's brand ketchup is not. my list of "food quirks not related to calories" and their relationship to gluten intolerance just goes on and on and on. another thing i find interesting is how my body *knew* but obviously only had *refusal* on hand to articulate the problem.
this year i have finally found out that arm & hammer toothpaste and banana boat sunblock do not interfere by causing a rash, or break out my face in tiny whiteheads. both products are found to be gluten-free. all of the other tried varieties of toothpaste, colgate total in particular, are listed on various websites as unsafe for celiacs. it should also be noted that workers at subway restaurants wear plastic gloves when preparing foods, but do use latex gloves if the manager is cheap. i have a known latex allergy. now had i ever entered the subway restaurant and watched my food's preparation rather than waiting out in the car while family secured it for me, this would have been noticed much earlier.
this is so weird... it's like all along, all food which "my body decided to reject" is correct and reasonable. i feel somewhat victorious, and part of me wants to call people who are no longer in my life, just to announce the reason which was behind most of the bad days we shared. on the other hand, i have a lot wrapped up into being "severely anorexic" and as a labeled individual, it comes in handy as a great weapon.
my parents recently brought it to my attention that when growing up, i would only eat boiled vegetables (gluten-free) and for sweets, i would eat straight granulated sugar out of the bag (gluten-free) or bit-o-honey candy (formerly gluten-free). they did not appreciate my rigidity and started punishing me by forcing breads (gluten) or macaroni and cheese (gluten/dairy/food coloring) for meals. what were those people thinking?
i also seem to remember having to choke down twelve uncle buck-sized pancakes every saturday morning. when shipped off to camp one summer, it was quite confusing for me to see that overweight people only ate pancakes one at a time, and did not chow down several plates of pancakes in stacks of 4-6 like us scrawny kids. one week i stayed at that german camp, i was ravenous and lost 11 pounds by eating what the counselors fed me. my parents subsequently had a fit. most of my sundays growing up meant "not leaving the table" until eating five jelly-filled donuts or apple fritters. weekend mornings seemed to revolve about bread. french toast with maple syrup and too much butter. english muffins with butter and smears of chunky peanut butter. i hated it all. it was drilled into my head that breads and grains (gluten) were not a problem, rather, i was a problem in relationship to those foods and needed to change my attitude.
today i feel enlightened yet simultaneously furious at people who would reject my opinions about food. family would interfere by substituting whatever was cheapest or easiest for them to acquire back when i was basically housebound, sick, and screaming that people were not listening to me. cry, laugh, punch someone... i'm not sure how i feel or what to feel. cry, i guess. it's an understatement to say these problems have been bad.
this morning someone who hit my blog 967 times yesterday did a whois query on anorexorcism.com and used the e-mail address listed there to contact me for the first time.
1) i think this is completely bad form. doesn't everyone?
2) that particular someone decided to "relate" to my issues.
3) that someone also named those issues in the e-mail.
and then:
4) sent the e-mail to someone else, assuming i was at the other end.
way to go, you short-sighted jackass!
consider: flagrant disregard- does this sound anonymous to you?
fact: there are three other non-indexed blogs on this domain.
why would someone so carelessly assume anything when it comes to the sensitive issues written here? why wouldn't a person write first and ask if it was my e-mail address before mentioning private subjects? why would a person who had only read a few posts on this blog assume that i own the domain? why not assume my husband? or invalid friend? ...brilliant friend?
[by writing the above, i am not stating someone else owns this domain, or whether or not i am married, or that another person even may have read that e-mail message. i'm just angry that if someone who read only a few posts could assume one thing without any information, why couldn't they assume the spectrum of possibilities? what i am getting at is that i know i put too much thought into situations and variables before i act on them, and because of this, it infuriates me to no end that it appears not one second of consideration was given before the e-mail was sent. that careless action either could have or did cause a lot of harm to me yesterday.]
1) i think this is completely bad form. doesn't everyone?
2) that particular someone decided to "relate" to my issues.
3) that someone also named those issues in the e-mail.
and then:
4) sent the e-mail to someone else, assuming i was at the other end.
way to go, you short-sighted jackass!
consider: flagrant disregard- does this sound anonymous to you?
fact: there are three other non-indexed blogs on this domain.
why would someone so carelessly assume anything when it comes to the sensitive issues written here? why wouldn't a person write first and ask if it was my e-mail address before mentioning private subjects? why would a person who had only read a few posts on this blog assume that i own the domain? why not assume my husband? or invalid friend? ...brilliant friend?
[by writing the above, i am not stating someone else owns this domain, or whether or not i am married, or that another person even may have read that e-mail message. i'm just angry that if someone who read only a few posts could assume one thing without any information, why couldn't they assume the spectrum of possibilities? what i am getting at is that i know i put too much thought into situations and variables before i act on them, and because of this, it infuriates me to no end that it appears not one second of consideration was given before the e-mail was sent. that careless action either could have or did cause a lot of harm to me yesterday.]
Tuesday, February 24, 2004
when was the last time i did something that accidentally caused trauma in another person's life? ???
?????
??
?????
years, it's been years.
i am an immobile
unhealthy
rigid
chronic bitch
but this NEVER fucks people up unless i decide i want it to happen.
do you think i am just a magnet for other people's stupidity?
accident= "i couldn't think that far in advance."
accident= "i was too lazy to think that far in advance."
accident= [is there another option?]
?????
??
?????
years, it's been years.
i am an immobile
unhealthy
rigid
chronic bitch
but this NEVER fucks people up unless i decide i want it to happen.
do you think i am just a magnet for other people's stupidity?
accident= "i couldn't think that far in advance."
accident= "i was too lazy to think that far in advance."
accident= [is there another option?]
[angel- untitled watercolor painting]on this, the eve of a forty day period of fasting for the members of one of the world's major religions, someone finally had unbelievable audacity, combined with good sense, loving words, and a clueless compassion, to recommend that i try an elimination diet for a few weeks to gain a concrete allergy profile and essentially improve my quality of life.
i thought about this for a few hours wondering how exactly it has come to happen that illness could not remember how to twist this nice and positive encouragement into adequate ammunition to store in my arsenal. why was it not ticked off and instead insistent in trying to block access to the possibility? might it be furious-- harboring a vicious plan of attack after a rule is broken?
what? i used to be able to twist everything. am i getting well? no!! "well" is bad and greedy excessive over-the-top loud BIG too much and maybe someday an extra seat on an airplane! "well" is not challenging. "well" is taking whenever, thinking you matter, giving in, hypnotism induced by circadian rhythms, and being expected to go out and do something spectacular in the world. "well" is getting into your car and having it slightly move, hearing your steps on the stairs, not scaring people by having your weight announce your arrival, and not caring that you leave footprints on the beach when really this is a flabbergasting event to watch other people practice. "wellness" is the inability to avoid public restrooms.
or: wellness is eating a reese's peanut butter cup at the same weight when you were very sick and not having this action incapacitate you mentally and confine you to your home for 48 hours. wellness is knowing a particular swallow of food is not the best choice, and that it needs not always be. wellness is not partaking in one instance of flavor indulgence per year to thwart deprivation. there was a twelve year period where no one ever dared suggest that i eliminate any food.
what a wonderful idea, suggested my own sarcastic voice in my head. i should take my list of five foods, which actually counts as six if you include sugar substitute packets, nullify anything with gluten (including oats), corn (including maltodextrin), soy, dairy/egg, nuts, citrus, plus take the foods which i already know i am allergic to (fd&c food colorings, msg, chicken, red fruits and vegetables, garlic, enriched foods, etc...) off of the list and only eat what remains. what's that? coffee? even if i were to commit the sin of addition, what does this leave for a selection aside from canned tuna fish? the grand statement about that impossibility from last week stands.
wellness is the inability to devote oneself to Grammar Particular and also never charting a fasting schedule based on theocratic rules. wellness means no invisible competition is getting ahead of your getting behind.
only five more days until my lease is up.
wishing you special happiness in your new home. best of luck!
my brother, who has recently returned home to live with the parents, is now the recipient of my best impulse purchase ever: a hallmark card.
sad but true.
my brother, who has recently returned home to live with the parents, is now the recipient of my best impulse purchase ever: a hallmark card.
sad but true.
Monday, February 23, 2004
this day was perfect.
Saturday, February 21, 2004
my cat's name has been changed to jubal brown the barfing art critic.
- tried washing and painting over the cat's present but i don't know.
- tried washing and painting over the cat's present but i don't know.
fact: the old car has a flat tire.
- invalid friend is waiting for flagrant to pick him up from work in the old car.
flagrant thinks: damn, eye don't want to fix this in front of my building.
fact: this tire was supposedly fixed some time ago but has a slow leak.
- flagrant is wearing smelly workout clothes and is not exaggerating.
- it's really dark outside and drizzling.
- tire pressure gauge measures ate pounds of air.
flagrant thinks: that. is. not. myflagrant. lucky. number.
fact: flagrant worries constantly, thus is prepared for every anything all of the time.
- trunk pops open.
- electric tire pump is removed and brushed off.
fact: portable 'cigarette lighter air pump' is a piece of wal-mart crap.
- contraption is noisier than any obscenely loud lawnmower.
- contraption adds only 10# of air in four mind-numbing, wet minutes.
flagrant mutters: "oh, eye'm not tolerating this. argghh!!!"
- filthy, bird splotched car is driven to service station in the rain.
- moron woman driver has parked sideways in an inappropriate place.
- moron woman disrupts three cars and blocks air/water coin-op station.
- flagrant successfully squeezes car in between the misaligned cars.
- insert quarter.
- flagrant pulls 30' of air hose from the machine and prays it reaches.
flagrant says: "please work. please reach. please work..."
- success!
- while flagrant inflates the tire, a waiting man approaches.
man says: "35, eye think."
flagrant thinks: yeah. what am eye, new?
flagrant says: "yeah. something like that. 32-35."
- another man approaches and flagrant tenses up due to her smelly clothes.
man #2 says: "do you want my pressure gauge?"
flagrant thinks: what am eye? dainty and stupid?
- flagrant's hand holding three gauges is held up.
flagrant says: "no, eye have a few. thanks."
- the hose, spurting with remaining time, is awkwardly handed to waiting man #1.
- car tires accidentally squeal on damp pavement as flagrant escapes.
- no worries she will never see those scarypeople again.
note: nothing bad necessarily happened but flagrant is obsessing over it.
consider: are all nervous or uncomfortable situations automatically terrible ordeals?
- invalid friend is waiting for flagrant to pick him up from work in the old car.
flagrant thinks: damn, eye don't want to fix this in front of my building.
fact: this tire was supposedly fixed some time ago but has a slow leak.
- flagrant is wearing smelly workout clothes and is not exaggerating.
- it's really dark outside and drizzling.
- tire pressure gauge measures ate pounds of air.
flagrant thinks: that. is. not. myflagrant. lucky. number.
fact: flagrant worries constantly, thus is prepared for every anything all of the time.
- trunk pops open.
- electric tire pump is removed and brushed off.
fact: portable 'cigarette lighter air pump' is a piece of wal-mart crap.
- contraption is noisier than any obscenely loud lawnmower.
- contraption adds only 10# of air in four mind-numbing, wet minutes.
flagrant mutters: "oh, eye'm not tolerating this. argghh!!!"
- filthy, bird splotched car is driven to service station in the rain.
- moron woman driver has parked sideways in an inappropriate place.
- moron woman disrupts three cars and blocks air/water coin-op station.
- flagrant successfully squeezes car in between the misaligned cars.
- insert quarter.
- flagrant pulls 30' of air hose from the machine and prays it reaches.
flagrant says: "please work. please reach. please work..."
- success!
- while flagrant inflates the tire, a waiting man approaches.
man says: "35, eye think."
flagrant thinks: yeah. what am eye, new?
flagrant says: "yeah. something like that. 32-35."
- another man approaches and flagrant tenses up due to her smelly clothes.
man #2 says: "do you want my pressure gauge?"
flagrant thinks: what am eye? dainty and stupid?
- flagrant's hand holding three gauges is held up.
flagrant says: "no, eye have a few. thanks."
- the hose, spurting with remaining time, is awkwardly handed to waiting man #1.
- car tires accidentally squeal on damp pavement as flagrant escapes.
- no worries she will never see those scarypeople again.
note: nothing bad necessarily happened but flagrant is obsessing over it.
consider: are all nervous or uncomfortable situations automatically terrible ordeals?
there is depression which evolves into something like sloth and what follows comes the part where you refuse to go outside during the light and also refuse any socialization but yet bitch that there is none. you drone on to no one there was never any connection to begin with and this can tie up the sense of the situation.
you cannot change your clothes for unwritten reasons which continues to the point that you get a rash. a few weeks later, now phobic of different clothes, sizes, and washing machine shrinkage, the rash is no longer novelty but you notice that the shiny material sort of tingles your skin. obsessions begin with the word viral. this worries you but the anxiety pile is enormous and it does not rank up there with "eye stop every few times eye throw up just to check that all my teeth are still in my mouth" or "every time eye try to go to sleep eye get jolted by bright white seizures."
clothes itch.
so what?
get over it.
endure.
hey, that's what i do best!
pretty soon the collection of fast food mustard packets run out and you eat a teaspoon of burnt crud you could scrape off from the kitchen grill. it's food cooked over a week ago, and by someone else, but the concept of going outside to obtain a food unit is confusing. leaving the room during daytime would be an overwhelming task, and you're so worthless you are not allowed to spend any money on yourself anyway. honestly, you have a bloody rash and you stink- you therefore won't even be seen taking out the trash.
fixing this version of sick could worsen your other form of sick and so illness is tolerated but the real hell from last time left you ineffably mute. your brand-new but abandoned tt convertible (if it starts because it's been so long since driven) is apt to be filthy from being parked under a sap dripping tree. this makes it too embarrassing to be seen- and you can't fathom washing it or leaving the house until dark but by then you'll forget. vaguely recollect that a spurting death sounds just like the car wash and void the thought.
going through the motions of showering and washing clothes will burn more calories than anorexia will allow to be purchased at one time- this eliminates the whole concept of a food unit for today. try going to bed except THE DOOM has started, insomnia makes it impossible, and you know enough to fear the whitelights.
everyone's going to die so you better make yourself well.
hurry.
get up. sit here. write.
write what?
you've got nothing.
you've got everything except the patience to describe duality.
live how? you'll just give it away.
figure it cannot be bad yet because you still have enough strength to stay this low.
then one day you have to go: out there.
sunshine: under the brightlights.
just to the mailbox before 10:00am when it gets collected.
big deal.
it is a big deal because when was the last time you were outside unshielded during the daylight? was it last month when you wrote about driving invalid friend to work under the lux of the sun and picked up business papers from the mailbox downstairs?
brightlights: you can't walk well under them.
life in a box and it is like old times when it was hard to walk unassisted outside because there is no person or wall for the perspective of balance. consider that hibernation is not good for sustaining useful vision for distances over ten feet away. squint. eye floaters. you are going blind and this is the biggest issue but anorexia sells urgency well.
--
eye arrived at the mailbox on the street corner by mumbling and following a zig-zagged path and eye'm thinking, "sheesh, eye'm like an old person now who is dressed like a college kid in converse all stars except those people all comb their hair."
it's two steps down the steps and eye start acting like eye might be forgetting something when only eye am stopping to navigate the stairs. maybe eye'll just stay inside and draw nearsighted circles with myflagrant cold purple fingers and then laugh that those pictures are oh-so neon happy on days when THE BLACK is only in myflagrant head.
you cannot change your clothes for unwritten reasons which continues to the point that you get a rash. a few weeks later, now phobic of different clothes, sizes, and washing machine shrinkage, the rash is no longer novelty but you notice that the shiny material sort of tingles your skin. obsessions begin with the word viral. this worries you but the anxiety pile is enormous and it does not rank up there with "eye stop every few times eye throw up just to check that all my teeth are still in my mouth" or "every time eye try to go to sleep eye get jolted by bright white seizures."
clothes itch.
so what?
get over it.
endure.
hey, that's what i do best!
pretty soon the collection of fast food mustard packets run out and you eat a teaspoon of burnt crud you could scrape off from the kitchen grill. it's food cooked over a week ago, and by someone else, but the concept of going outside to obtain a food unit is confusing. leaving the room during daytime would be an overwhelming task, and you're so worthless you are not allowed to spend any money on yourself anyway. honestly, you have a bloody rash and you stink- you therefore won't even be seen taking out the trash.
fixing this version of sick could worsen your other form of sick and so illness is tolerated but the real hell from last time left you ineffably mute. your brand-new but abandoned tt convertible (if it starts because it's been so long since driven) is apt to be filthy from being parked under a sap dripping tree. this makes it too embarrassing to be seen- and you can't fathom washing it or leaving the house until dark but by then you'll forget. vaguely recollect that a spurting death sounds just like the car wash and void the thought.
going through the motions of showering and washing clothes will burn more calories than anorexia will allow to be purchased at one time- this eliminates the whole concept of a food unit for today. try going to bed except THE DOOM has started, insomnia makes it impossible, and you know enough to fear the whitelights.
everyone's going to die so you better make yourself well.
hurry.
get up. sit here. write.
write what?
you've got nothing.
you've got everything except the patience to describe duality.
live how? you'll just give it away.
figure it cannot be bad yet because you still have enough strength to stay this low.
then one day you have to go: out there.
sunshine: under the brightlights.
just to the mailbox before 10:00am when it gets collected.
big deal.
it is a big deal because when was the last time you were outside unshielded during the daylight? was it last month when you wrote about driving invalid friend to work under the lux of the sun and picked up business papers from the mailbox downstairs?
brightlights: you can't walk well under them.
life in a box and it is like old times when it was hard to walk unassisted outside because there is no person or wall for the perspective of balance. consider that hibernation is not good for sustaining useful vision for distances over ten feet away. squint. eye floaters. you are going blind and this is the biggest issue but anorexia sells urgency well.
--
eye arrived at the mailbox on the street corner by mumbling and following a zig-zagged path and eye'm thinking, "sheesh, eye'm like an old person now who is dressed like a college kid in converse all stars except those people all comb their hair."
it's two steps down the steps and eye start acting like eye might be forgetting something when only eye am stopping to navigate the stairs. maybe eye'll just stay inside and draw nearsighted circles with myflagrant cold purple fingers and then laugh that those pictures are oh-so neon happy on days when THE BLACK is only in myflagrant head.
occasionally eye think this whole ordeal eye go through is just based on the fact that eye don't want to be upset. eye'd rather go through loopy hell than acknowledge that eye am disappointed.
Friday, February 20, 2004
doom: the anxiety-filled paranoid depression monster that strikes three or four weeks after you've stopped changing your clothes and two weeks before you start eating the wallpaper.
oh.
oh.
oh.
oh, help.
oh, holy mother of all lack of sanity, it seems that i cannot even deal with the "average" irrational ebay shopper.
oh, since i am nearing a heart attack over an inconsequential $10 dvd transaction, let it be known on my headstone that: I AM NEITHER OBSESSING NOR THE LUNATIC THIS TIME.
... and should not be sitting here all upset.
... and should not allow this clenching intensity any authority
... and should open this moron's e-mail.
oh, this anxiety from dealing with "he who cannot follow directions" is unbelievable. i feel like i cannot breathe, but could easily start growling.
oh, please don't call an ambulance.
oh.
oh.
oh, help.
oh, holy mother of all lack of sanity, it seems that i cannot even deal with the "average" irrational ebay shopper.
oh, since i am nearing a heart attack over an inconsequential $10 dvd transaction, let it be known on my headstone that: I AM NEITHER OBSESSING NOR THE LUNATIC THIS TIME.
... and should not be sitting here all upset.
... and should not allow this clenching intensity any authority
... and should open this moron's e-mail.
oh, this anxiety from dealing with "he who cannot follow directions" is unbelievable. i feel like i cannot breathe, but could easily start growling.
oh, please don't call an ambulance.
there is so much doom now.
depression and the collective spectrum continue to maintain the lease by constructing a glass case. indoors. innovation. creativity. look, butter knives can be used to scrape a calorie or two in order to thwart feeling deprived! you're not bored-- you haven't read the recently delivered "fake" yellow pages yet. when realization interferes with this isolation to inspire unexplainable agony, fists can refract painful thoughts. "eye've been screaming all day without sound." "the caustic coughs are clenched and eye'm getting a sore throat."
myflagrant use of "eye" could unfortunately be viewed in the same light. the reason for the use of "eye" (rather than the proper pronoun) cannot be summed up in under fifty detailed explanations. "eye" does not simply reflect some type of similarity or clang association in these posts. (where "eye equals i because it sounds like i.") "eye" is a collective. it's definition cannot be articulated on this condensed blog.
today eye read blogs authored by those who hold gainful, out-of-the-house employment, but are trying to act crazy in print. it's so pathetic. to them, crazy simply means "formulaic, with one or two definable qualities which are constant" or "feeling confused."
myflagrant crazy is not about "eye feel completely all turned around" and other such interpretable statements. the worst of crazy is when a portion of myflagrantself is turned off, when everything else about flagrantme is on. perhaps, the complete opposite-- but it is never everything in total. crazy can be a bit of thoughtless (off) everything (on)... or nothing (off) and not being able to stop thinking about it (on). crazy is restless (on) when nothing too out of the ordinary is happening (off).
crazy is urinating into a cup and leaving it on your friend's kitchen counter because you are having an invisible argument. by doing this, you can win by default. crazy is not saying anything about it. crazy is making enough money to pay more in income taxes for 2003 than your friends will make over the next few years-- and not have a clue how to pay your cheap rent for march 2004 because you keep giving everything you earn away. you may have enough in cash right here in this desk drawer, but crazy is the inability to look because "what if it's gone" is a thought you cannot bear. months will go by and that's fine to get behind on bills. crazy is when irresponsibility and the distress it brings on is more bearable than breaking a superstition.
you know, eye'm having a bad day today for absolutely no reason (off) other than morbid and racing thoughts (on).
myflagrant use of "eye" could unfortunately be viewed in the same light. the reason for the use of "eye" (rather than the proper pronoun) cannot be summed up in under fifty detailed explanations. "eye" does not simply reflect some type of similarity or clang association in these posts. (where "eye equals i because it sounds like i.") "eye" is a collective. it's definition cannot be articulated on this condensed blog.
today eye read blogs authored by those who hold gainful, out-of-the-house employment, but are trying to act crazy in print. it's so pathetic. to them, crazy simply means "formulaic, with one or two definable qualities which are constant" or "feeling confused."
myflagrant crazy is not about "eye feel completely all turned around" and other such interpretable statements. the worst of crazy is when a portion of myflagrantself is turned off, when everything else about flagrantme is on. perhaps, the complete opposite-- but it is never everything in total. crazy can be a bit of thoughtless (off) everything (on)... or nothing (off) and not being able to stop thinking about it (on). crazy is restless (on) when nothing too out of the ordinary is happening (off).
crazy is urinating into a cup and leaving it on your friend's kitchen counter because you are having an invisible argument. by doing this, you can win by default. crazy is not saying anything about it. crazy is making enough money to pay more in income taxes for 2003 than your friends will make over the next few years-- and not have a clue how to pay your cheap rent for march 2004 because you keep giving everything you earn away. you may have enough in cash right here in this desk drawer, but crazy is the inability to look because "what if it's gone" is a thought you cannot bear. months will go by and that's fine to get behind on bills. crazy is when irresponsibility and the distress it brings on is more bearable than breaking a superstition.
you know, eye'm having a bad day today for absolutely no reason (off) other than morbid and racing thoughts (on).
is it always three in the morning where you are?
the day before yesterday eye took an assortment of otc drugs to feel better and then laughed when trying to secure the final three dots on the ugly half of neurotic. myflagrant hands were shaking too much and it was impossible. non-prescription crap. yesterday eye took prescription-only amphetamines which eye slyly obtained in florida. eye painted fine and felt good. why can't eye have myflagrant own bottle of pills if eye don't abuse them?
things will be better for me once i get this blog removed from certain search engine pages and the other multitudes of blog indexing services in which i never requested inclusion. yeah, good luck in keeping up with that task. ridiculous, really as a major reason for this blog was to socialize or learn to integrate. well that was a big flop, eh? this blog, whatever it's called because you'd think i could have selected a name by now, is making me sick.
insomnia is making me sick.
my unfinished projects are making me sick.
insomnia is making me sick.
my unfinished projects are making me sick.
house hunting in overpriced santa barbara, with your hosts: flagrant the mental patient blogger with the whip-sharp tongue who is usually too cheap to plug in her refrigerator, and brilliant friend, the sarcastic scientist who refuses to live more than a mile from the ocean. now i think this would make good television.
brilliant friend: i haven't been working 80 hours a week to retire in van nuys.
brilliant friend: i haven't been working 80 hours a week to retire in van nuys.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
how exciting, i cleaned out my suitcase. [photos]
crap. this morning i forgot to put on my whack-job-psycho decoder ring.
that is unfortunate, because it would have come in handy numerous times.
that is unfortunate, because it would have come in handy numerous times.
note: put me in a prison camp in a third-world country and there is still no way in a frozen-over hell that i will eat bread or canned fish.
do i look needy? hungry? i was closing the windows near the laundry area in my building, as otherwise my place becomes unbearably cold, a women appeared out of nowhere and presented me a large bag full of huge onion sandwich rolls and bakery sized bagels. later in the evening when i left to shuttle invalid friend back to his home from work, i found several containers of canned salmon sitting by my door.
Wednesday, February 18, 2004
my first blog ended on february 17th.
now this next year is over and i haven't done a damn thing.
so essentially chapter two was a wash.
... and i was a waste of space.
it will only be good to be free from this time.
now this next year is over and i haven't done a damn thing.
so essentially chapter two was a wash.
... and i was a waste of space.
it will only be good to be free from this time.
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
i refuse to write about sex... [as the years pass by, it is grossly apparent that the man i lived with between 1998 and 2002 was a virgin when i met him.]
i cannot write about drugs... [well i could, but do you really want to hear about methadone maintenance treatment (MMT) or the ins and outs of federal regulations and how they apply to office-based opioid therapy?]
i don't know jack about rock... [trust me, the last two songs i heard were mahna mahna sung by the snowths from the muppet show and enid's rant by amps for christ.]
i cannot write about drugs... [well i could, but do you really want to hear about methadone maintenance treatment (MMT) or the ins and outs of federal regulations and how they apply to office-based opioid therapy?]
i don't know jack about rock... [trust me, the last two songs i heard were mahna mahna sung by the snowths from the muppet show and enid's rant by amps for christ.]
tuesday arrives and eye don't travel to norway.
eye dont even make plans.
because eye'm selfish
and tired.
eye dont even make plans.
because eye'm selfish
and tired.
Monday, February 16, 2004
fact: flagrant may be allergic to wheat, but oats, quinoa, and cream of rice are not automatically unsafe options.
flagrant, to chuck, says: "eye think perhaps eye should test plain oats."
invalid friend says: "are you going to try cooking any of it this time?"
- anorexia sneers but is too weak to call a strike.
flagrant says: "no. that's what you are for, right?"
- invalid friend chuck shops at trader joe's in santa barbara.
- 'country choice steel cut oatmeal' is a featured fearless flyer item.
fearless flyer states: ingredients: organic 100% steel cut oats.
- no fortification.
- no preservatives.
- no known allergens.
anorexia tells chuck: "fine. get some broccoli, too, and get out of there."
- they drive home behind many slow retired types.
- the car lurches and stumbles in first gear.
- as an old strokes cd plays, all symbolism computes.
flagrant says: "wonk wonk, guy! myflagrant car doesn't go this slow."
- they arrive home.
- invalid friend rips open the oatmeal container.
[invalid friend is neither using a measuring cup nor a digital gram scale.]
- flagrant has some form of attack.
invalid friend says: "what? i thought i was making you oatmeal?"
- rules get broken.
- flagrant tastes porridge sludge and declares an anytime oatmeal rule.
- anorexia writes stipulations.
- flagrant's chest begins to congest.
flagrant thinks: no! eye am not allergic to oats.
- flagrant turns into toxic dripping snotball and has difficulty breathing.
repeat: flagrant is allergic to wheat, not oats.
- perhaps hypoallergenic oats are packaged on machinery which handled wheat?
[this product was not handled in a facility which processed wheat.]
- perhaps flagrant is hypersensitive to the gluten in oats?
fact: farmers rotate crops.
ridiculous long shot but who really knows: perhaps flagrant is reacting to the wheat which was growing the season prior to the oat harvest and these minuscule remnants render her allergic to this oatmeal?
fact: truth is stranger than fiction.
consider: oatmeal is definitely a grey area.
consider: supposedly safe oatmeal = gluten intolerance?
flagrant, to chuck, says: "eye think perhaps eye should test plain oats."
invalid friend says: "are you going to try cooking any of it this time?"
- anorexia sneers but is too weak to call a strike.
flagrant says: "no. that's what you are for, right?"
- invalid friend chuck shops at trader joe's in santa barbara.
- 'country choice steel cut oatmeal' is a featured fearless flyer item.
fearless flyer states: ingredients: organic 100% steel cut oats.
- no fortification.
- no preservatives.
- no known allergens.
anorexia tells chuck: "fine. get some broccoli, too, and get out of there."
- they drive home behind many slow retired types.
- the car lurches and stumbles in first gear.
- as an old strokes cd plays, all symbolism computes.
flagrant says: "wonk wonk, guy! myflagrant car doesn't go this slow."
- they arrive home.
- invalid friend rips open the oatmeal container.
[invalid friend is neither using a measuring cup nor a digital gram scale.]
- flagrant has some form of attack.
invalid friend says: "what? i thought i was making you oatmeal?"
- rules get broken.
- flagrant tastes porridge sludge and declares an anytime oatmeal rule.
- anorexia writes stipulations.
- flagrant's chest begins to congest.
flagrant thinks: no! eye am not allergic to oats.
- flagrant turns into toxic dripping snotball and has difficulty breathing.
repeat: flagrant is allergic to wheat, not oats.
- perhaps hypoallergenic oats are packaged on machinery which handled wheat?
[this product was not handled in a facility which processed wheat.]
- perhaps flagrant is hypersensitive to the gluten in oats?
fact: farmers rotate crops.
ridiculous long shot but who really knows: perhaps flagrant is reacting to the wheat which was growing the season prior to the oat harvest and these minuscule remnants render her allergic to this oatmeal?
fact: truth is stranger than fiction.
consider: oatmeal is definitely a grey area.
consider: supposedly safe oatmeal = gluten intolerance?
so i arrived home last night after a strange mileage run weekend and there was an envelope full of money on my desk and my first thought was:
there damn well better be more than $500 here.
note: no one who has a key owes me any money.
total: $2200.
brain jumble:
- wow, i am impressed.
- money doesn't buy me the things i want.
- what is this money for?
- oh woe is me.
- why can't i marry a man rich in other avenues?
- hurt me.
- i do not deserve any money or happiness.
- this is great.
- i'm not going to stop until the entire los angeles area is pussy whipped.
- when i have time i am going to shop for the homeless.
- i must have done something wrong.
- i should place an ad and have someone drag me into an alley and stab me.
you know what i hate worse than airports? the inane jokes and forwarded office inspirational quotes my telephone collects from motherfigure which then take fifteen minutes to delete. being proactive, i said KNOCK IT OFF. i must not count.
today motherfigure blathered on in an e-mail about stress and worries about how much my brother's arrest and lawyer "will cost him and us, since he has no money" but she did not seem to give out any specifics. he was arrested?! since she is down, i kick her in the teeth: his court costs will not cost you a dime unless you want to pay. let me know when you and dad co-sign another loan for him so brilliant friend and i can see what we need to do to institutionalize the both of you.
i was going to write: he is going to end up on a social security disability stipend of $560 a month and be living in your basement anyway, so forget him and just co-sign this $100,000 note so i can start a lucrative part-time hobby of flipping real estate transactions.
nobody loves me. ha-ha. nobody loves truth.
i think: stop wasting your time on inevitable disaster.
my parents are assuming they will pay my brother's court costs????
i think: after i boil my arch enemy in an oversized calphalon pot i'll have defense attorney mark geragos call my parents for the financial arrangement.
maybe the greatest thing that has happened to me over the last few years is that i have learned to say no and beyond that, saying no to a situation is not going to hurt my feelings, rather it is going to upset the people who cannot get what they want. after changing over from a perpetually stomped over wallflower it is infuriating to see weak people do what they don't want or need to do.
so motherfigure just fell into the prey category.
hehe... good to know... there may come a day...
there damn well better be more than $500 here.
note: no one who has a key owes me any money.
total: $2200.
brain jumble:
- wow, i am impressed.
- money doesn't buy me the things i want.
- what is this money for?
- oh woe is me.
- why can't i marry a man rich in other avenues?
- hurt me.
- i do not deserve any money or happiness.
- this is great.
- i'm not going to stop until the entire los angeles area is pussy whipped.
- when i have time i am going to shop for the homeless.
- i must have done something wrong.
- i should place an ad and have someone drag me into an alley and stab me.
you know what i hate worse than airports? the inane jokes and forwarded office inspirational quotes my telephone collects from motherfigure which then take fifteen minutes to delete. being proactive, i said KNOCK IT OFF. i must not count.
today motherfigure blathered on in an e-mail about stress and worries about how much my brother's arrest and lawyer "will cost him and us, since he has no money" but she did not seem to give out any specifics. he was arrested?! since she is down, i kick her in the teeth: his court costs will not cost you a dime unless you want to pay. let me know when you and dad co-sign another loan for him so brilliant friend and i can see what we need to do to institutionalize the both of you.
i was going to write: he is going to end up on a social security disability stipend of $560 a month and be living in your basement anyway, so forget him and just co-sign this $100,000 note so i can start a lucrative part-time hobby of flipping real estate transactions.
nobody loves me. ha-ha. nobody loves truth.
i think: stop wasting your time on inevitable disaster.
my parents are assuming they will pay my brother's court costs????
i think: after i boil my arch enemy in an oversized calphalon pot i'll have defense attorney mark geragos call my parents for the financial arrangement.
maybe the greatest thing that has happened to me over the last few years is that i have learned to say no and beyond that, saying no to a situation is not going to hurt my feelings, rather it is going to upset the people who cannot get what they want. after changing over from a perpetually stomped over wallflower it is infuriating to see weak people do what they don't want or need to do.
so motherfigure just fell into the prey category.
hehe... good to know... there may come a day...
Sunday, February 15, 2004
i don't want to blog here anymore because it is impossible to write about what i do or where i go because it's too much. always, someone out there will have less so why can't i have some? ...and when i do, why do i feel i can no longer mention it? i don't live in a palace. why do i worry that people will think i have it too good when i live in an unheated condominium? is it just because i'm not going to bother with finding a job outside of my home?
everything today is mixed up and unflagrantlike:
2 hours of happiness.
10 hours of schadenfreude... ha ha ha ha!
12 hours of seething rage... i'm going to butcher your dog, fucker!
where is this from? i'd usually give someone my last dollar.
really, whatever happened to me that made me think staying indoors and beating myself with hard plastic objects is the right thing to do? why is it the constant default answer? why are the people who partially suggest not doing harmful things invalid? though not normal and need not be advertised, why do people say they don't understand what i do when mental to physical pain replacement is such a basic concept?
i'm dealing with the greatest problem in the world: nothing is wrong.
nothing to do.
everything it its place.
something will happen.
something will go wrong.
waiting for change.
what will it be?
this?
that?
another death?
a flat tire?
house-fire?
a car accident?
i don't know but it's making me crazy.
everything today is mixed up and unflagrantlike:
2 hours of happiness.
10 hours of schadenfreude... ha ha ha ha!
12 hours of seething rage... i'm going to butcher your dog, fucker!
where is this from? i'd usually give someone my last dollar.
really, whatever happened to me that made me think staying indoors and beating myself with hard plastic objects is the right thing to do? why is it the constant default answer? why are the people who partially suggest not doing harmful things invalid? though not normal and need not be advertised, why do people say they don't understand what i do when mental to physical pain replacement is such a basic concept?
i'm dealing with the greatest problem in the world: nothing is wrong.
nothing to do.
everything it its place.
something will happen.
something will go wrong.
waiting for change.
what will it be?
this?
that?
another death?
a flat tire?
house-fire?
a car accident?
i don't know but it's making me crazy.
- i have got a bag of hell and want to use it, so send me some names.
my brother, who is 25 and now lives at home, is getting a divorce. (i gauge this through a misspelled and terse e-mail.) this is fantastic but my parents seem to be acting as though it is the end of the world due to the uncertainty and stress. i'm so giddy! don't they understand that now he has endless possibilities and that this is going to be the best thing that ever happened to him if he is brave enough to take risks?
of course not.
flagrant says: "that is why it's good to always keep someone on the side."
of course not.
flagrant says: "that is why it's good to always keep someone on the side."
eye don't know how to go about knowing people better and end up apppearing to not care. not true. where is the fine line? what's nosy? what's rude? eye figure people would tell flagrantme what they want flagrantme to know, so eye never ask and they never tell...
mileage run: rerouted.
pain. pain. pain.
stress.
what the hell do i have to stress about?
i don't feel well and hate mileage running.
where am i?
- strange last time.
- strange this time.
pain. pain. pain.
stress.
what the hell do i have to stress about?
i don't feel well and hate mileage running.
where am i?
- strange last time.
- strange this time.
brilliant friend reminds me that when my father was undergoing heart surgery, motherfigure telephoned me from the hospital and explained that doctors were doing some tests.
no e-mail, no voicemail, no news from home. i am going to verbally assault that lame bitch if something so happens to be seriously wrong with a family member and i may just fly to minnesota and do it in person.
Saturday, February 14, 2004
eye look around the internet and eye wonder why desperate people who drink cough syrup for entertainment think they are cool and why do they think those elementary school antics are supposed to make readers believe they are on the edge?
i cannot help but obsess about motherfigure's e-mail from yesterday. when my brother "fell off of his bike and got a little banged up" it meant that he had an accident during a motocross race which was severe enough to end his professional career and was in the hospital for awhile, then when my dad had a stroke last spring i was told he was having some problems with his eyes.
... of course it appears that i am the wickedest bitch who could care less because i don't reach out and contact anyone when they are moaning with pain in the hospital.
me: nobody told me.
the sick and dying: oh.
motherfigure: no, i sent her e-mail.
okay, here goes my tactful (proving very difficult) reply:
> Hi
> your brother is home.
is this bad news? i have no idea what you are talking about.
... of course it appears that i am the wickedest bitch who could care less because i don't reach out and contact anyone when they are moaning with pain in the hospital.
me: nobody told me.
the sick and dying: oh.
motherfigure: no, i sent her e-mail.
okay, here goes my tactful (proving very difficult) reply:
> Hi
> your brother is home.
is this bad news? i have no idea what you are talking about.
Friday, February 13, 2004
cryptic e-mail from motherfigure:
Hi
your brother is home.
from an institution? ...a hospital? ...the grocery store?
since that is all she wrote, my guesses are (quite serious):
- he was in a car accident and has probably been in the hospital for a week.
- he was locked up for depression.
this might warrant a telephone call.
--
invalid friend suggests this may mean he has moved home...?
brilliant friend suggests i give credit to motherfigure for my illnesses.
brilliant friend then suggests i worry about my mother and not my brother.
--
my mind spins a million miles per hour but stops on red:
ha-ha. told you so.
Hi
your brother is home.
from an institution? ...a hospital? ...the grocery store?
since that is all she wrote, my guesses are (quite serious):
- he was in a car accident and has probably been in the hospital for a week.
- he was locked up for depression.
this might warrant a telephone call.
--
invalid friend suggests this may mean he has moved home...?
brilliant friend suggests i give credit to motherfigure for my illnesses.
brilliant friend then suggests i worry about my mother and not my brother.
--
my mind spins a million miles per hour but stops on red:
ha-ha. told you so.
how am i going to get to norway by tuesday?
option A:
- continue current mileage run.
- use frequent flyer miles (approx. fee $100)
- consider: seat availability.
- maybe.
option B:
- reschedule my mileage run return date. ($200 fee)
- purchase a cheap ticket to trondheim from mileage run city. ($352.60)
- miscellaneous expenses to change airports. ($50)
- spend three unplanned and expensive nights in a hotel. (approx. $700)
- maybe.
option C:
- continue mileage run.
- buy unrestricted ticket to fly there and back ($2080)
- no.
option D:
- continue mileage run.
- buy restricted ticket with saturday night stay. ($2080)
- note additional hotel costs.
- note: no airfare discount.
- god no.
option E:
- stay home and deal with guilt: $60.
- maybe.
option A:
- continue current mileage run.
- use frequent flyer miles (approx. fee $100)
- consider: seat availability.
- maybe.
option B:
- reschedule my mileage run return date. ($200 fee)
- purchase a cheap ticket to trondheim from mileage run city. ($352.60)
- miscellaneous expenses to change airports. ($50)
- spend three unplanned and expensive nights in a hotel. (approx. $700)
- maybe.
option C:
- continue mileage run.
- buy unrestricted ticket to fly there and back ($2080)
- no.
option D:
- continue mileage run.
- buy restricted ticket with saturday night stay. ($2080)
- note additional hotel costs.
- note: no airfare discount.
- god no.
option E:
- stay home and deal with guilt: $60.
- maybe.
it's another mileage run weekend.
third this year.
third this year.
potential blog topics:
- deflected threats are wonderful weapons.
- recapturing lost time, from a child's perspective.
- little girls aren't supposed to draw pictures of the fonz.
- the blood spray car wash connection and why i like the dark.
- an eleven year old chooses her problems in advance.
- an angry drunk man in minnesota swinging an axe-like forestry contraption.
- nancy-boy and his fashionable job.
- pickle jars [not to be confused with mason jars] and what goes in them.
- what value could a hearing boy find in flagrantme?
- deflected threats are wonderful weapons.
- recapturing lost time, from a child's perspective.
- little girls aren't supposed to draw pictures of the fonz.
- the blood spray car wash connection and why i like the dark.
- an eleven year old chooses her problems in advance.
- an angry drunk man in minnesota swinging an axe-like forestry contraption.
- nancy-boy and his fashionable job.
- pickle jars [not to be confused with mason jars] and what goes in them.
- what value could a hearing boy find in flagrantme?
Thursday, February 12, 2004
- eye infection.
- cat in the lap.
- electric blanket.
- airline flights.
- exceptional thirst.
- falling asleep in someone else's bed.
- baking apple streusel muffins for brilliant friend at 2am.
- cat in the lap.
- electric blanket.
- airline flights.
- exceptional thirst.
- falling asleep in someone else's bed.
- baking apple streusel muffins for brilliant friend at 2am.
i'm going to another funeral:
DEATH: 3
REMAINING FRIENDS: 1.7
"...and daddy makes four," she sang.
brilliant friend: "tristan's had more than 300 packets of nutrasweet tonight?"
flagrant: "okay."
note: of course not.
consider: i could be drinking airline wine.
DEATH: 3
REMAINING FRIENDS: 1.7
"...and daddy makes four," she sang.
brilliant friend: "tristan's had more than 300 packets of nutrasweet tonight?"
flagrant: "okay."
note: of course not.
consider: i could be drinking airline wine.
devendra banhart
the sunshine fix
dresden dolls
mr. brownsuit
nancy sinatra
all girl summer fun band
magne furuholmen
tycho
the sunshine fix
dresden dolls
mr. brownsuit
nancy sinatra
all girl summer fun band
magne furuholmen
tycho
Wednesday, February 11, 2004
disregard flagrant, she is still mad at the world.
link .. link .. link ..
that was my first internet id: link.
typical, i know, so later on i changed to kassel.
am i in some weblog club by default?
don't believe them.
see, i was never invited.
that was my first internet id: link.
typical, i know, so later on i changed to kassel.
am i in some weblog club by default?
don't believe them.
see, i was never invited.
why, exactly, would someone use the buy it now option for a well used olympus digital camera which is listed on ebay when it is priced the same as the identical new item? this ultimately means i have an idiot on my hands and am going to end up with negative feedback after all is said, paid, and shipped, right?
today i am so pissed off at WHOKNOWSWHAT that i missed the opening bell.
daytrading:
stock is up.
stock is down.
i threw up 106 times in the last 24 hours because i love myself.
is anyone sharp enough to note the word purge was not used?
ha.
people muddle everything i write.
what? they can't read AND comprehend?
why do people choose to stop short instead of thinking far and wide?
yes and mm-hmm and okay and fine are four different dialects.
only yes is yes.
and yes, mm-hmm is fine and okay but only if you like!
meh.
not here.
things happen this week but i cannot borrow any initiative.
no sir, i don't like it.
it's a big deal.
when i grow up i want to be an arsonist.
when i get old i am going to marry a deaf scientist.
impossible.
bunbury had taught me to fear the match.
today i am so pissed off at WHOKNOWSWHAT that i missed the opening bell.
daytrading:
stock is up.
stock is down.
i threw up 106 times in the last 24 hours because i love myself.
is anyone sharp enough to note the word purge was not used?
ha.
people muddle everything i write.
what? they can't read AND comprehend?
why do people choose to stop short instead of thinking far and wide?
yes and mm-hmm and okay and fine are four different dialects.
only yes is yes.
and yes, mm-hmm is fine and okay but only if you like!
meh.
not here.
things happen this week but i cannot borrow any initiative.
no sir, i don't like it.
it's a big deal.
when i grow up i want to be an arsonist.
when i get old i am going to marry a deaf scientist.
impossible.
bunbury had taught me to fear the match.
this member is: offline.
this member is: offline.
this member is: offline.
this member is: offline.
this member is: offline.
Tuesday, February 10, 2004
$30 worth of mechanical abuse
it nearly blinded my right eye
missed the first few hours of day trading
missed stock purchase is up +24.5% this morning
found out my e-mail pal oybz died
alprazolam 2.0MG #60 - discard after: 3/05
take 1 orally 3 times daily as needed for anxiety
- please call 48 hrs in advance of a refill is needed -
this member is: offline.
it nearly blinded my right eye
missed the first few hours of day trading
missed stock purchase is up +24.5% this morning
found out my e-mail pal oybz died
alprazolam 2.0MG #60 - discard after: 3/05
take 1 orally 3 times daily as needed for anxiety
- please call 48 hrs in advance of a refill is needed -
this member is: offline.
Monday, February 09, 2004
note: brain static seems to have escaped from the ANXIETY BOX.
note: the mechanical solution took away hours of LIFE.
note: the mechanical solution took away hours of LIFE.
i am bored without life and death melodrama!
i want the grand epic without the continual blackouts.
i want the grand epic without the continual blackouts.
fact: brain static can never escape the mechanical solution alone.
- [brain static= (erratic + difficult)/uncontrollable] (mental exhaustion)
- [mechanical solution= (formula + easy)/decision] (physical exhaustion)
- flagrant is tired of brain statics overwhelming struggles.
brilliant friend says: "just dont listen to it."
flagrant thinks: it takes an idiot to be that brilliant.
flagrant says: "eye know how to NO you know."
brilliant friend says: "can eye introduce you to WHEN?"
flagrant thinks: jerk.
- apprehension! fear! angst!
- brain static and mechanical solution struggle.
flagrant thinks: hmmmm hmmm hmm hmmm hmm...
- noise! uproar!
- disorder! trouble!
- flagrant takes empty ANXIETY BOX down from shelf.
- crackle! muscle! sound! power!
- brain static hops in to escape the mechanical solution.
- lid snaps shut.
- things CALM.
- flagrant crawls on top and crosses legs.
note: only a decision to be physically exhausted remains.
flagrant says: "yeah, fuck that."
- [brain static= (erratic + difficult)/uncontrollable] (mental exhaustion)
- [mechanical solution= (formula + easy)/decision] (physical exhaustion)
- flagrant is tired of brain statics overwhelming struggles.
brilliant friend says: "just dont listen to it."
flagrant thinks: it takes an idiot to be that brilliant.
flagrant says: "eye know how to NO you know."
brilliant friend says: "can eye introduce you to WHEN?"
flagrant thinks: jerk.
- apprehension! fear! angst!
- brain static and mechanical solution struggle.
flagrant thinks: hmmmm hmmm hmm hmmm hmm...
- noise! uproar!
- disorder! trouble!
- flagrant takes empty ANXIETY BOX down from shelf.
- crackle! muscle! sound! power!
- brain static hops in to escape the mechanical solution.
- lid snaps shut.
- things CALM.
- flagrant crawls on top and crosses legs.
note: only a decision to be physically exhausted remains.
flagrant says: "yeah, fuck that."
Saturday, February 07, 2004
this is the part where i acknowledge webstats and ask if any of you can draw a cartoon of a squashed shoebox [with eyeparts] or possibly a warthog with horns? [note: warthogs do not have horns.] i figure it's the weekend and anyone who is reading this probably has talents that other people don't understand but that i may appreciate and exploit.
i don't know anyone who has been where i've been who can use the word woman without pausing to add an additional breath in order to finish their sentence.
remember the old days when i was real and posted photographs of bathtubs filled with ten or more gallons of non-draining vomit? remember when i blogged about how interesting and exciting it was to throw up foods that included peanut butter or were flavored with a lemon essence, because 99% of the time that type of purge would only exit my left nostril? ah, those were the nights. now i just sit here- bored and contemplating the reintroduction of mechanical purging.
[this is the part where nothing fucking matters anyway.]
[this is the part where i remind myself i can generate an income doing anything... stupid, smart, good, bad, immoral, illegal, or even squiggles made with oil pastels... anything. everything will be fine as long as i do something.]
i am still having an attitude attack so this is the part where i blog about what may be a landmark event: i threw away my stash of old boxes and random pieces of cardboard because i could probably get out and allow myself to purchase actual art paper... and if i couldn't, at least i know i can just snap my fingers and say, "you, monkey boy. get your ass to the store."
1997: puppet = victim?
2004: change in philosophy without succumbing to the sins of the flesh.
note: this means i own old scrapbooks and a box full of lies!
note: or an old diary stating "i used to be wrong."
2004: change in philosophy without succumbing to the sins of the flesh.
note: this means i own old scrapbooks and a box full of lies!
note: or an old diary stating "i used to be wrong."
this is the part where i:
- get married and fret about stashing my savings in hidden accounts.
- decided to never write anything personal again.
- wonder why people would ever return to this website.
- sit up all night and bitch that there are no blogs to read.
- have an anxiety attack because everyone is going to die and leave me all alone in this world even though i take every opportunity to belittle their lives and wish them dead.
- get married and fret about stashing my savings in hidden accounts.
- decided to never write anything personal again.
- wonder why people would ever return to this website.
- sit up all night and bitch that there are no blogs to read.
- have an anxiety attack because everyone is going to die and leave me all alone in this world even though i take every opportunity to belittle their lives and wish them dead.
Friday, February 06, 2004
i made the switch- that stupid phrase i mentioned a few months back:
people had better watch out because one day they will see they have placed all of their eggs in my basket and i will be the one who can up and walk away. no longer will i live in fear of other people's decisions and be in the situation where other's choices can disrupt my living situation or health.
unfortunately, someone noticed.
[this is where i had a bad day, up until i decided i would not.]
nope. i am just going to laugh and be happy with my half-full basket because last year i could not have even afforded wicker.
people had better watch out because one day they will see they have placed all of their eggs in my basket and i will be the one who can up and walk away. no longer will i live in fear of other people's decisions and be in the situation where other's choices can disrupt my living situation or health.
unfortunately, someone noticed.
[this is where i had a bad day, up until i decided i would not.]
nope. i am just going to laugh and be happy with my half-full basket because last year i could not have even afforded wicker.
NOTHING is ever good enough.
i love pain. scratch that. numb. no. i love the bruising afterburn.
you'd think i'd know the difference.
you'd think i'd know the difference.
[this is the part of the day when i hate everyone, make fun of the weak, brag to the lazy, and trip people who i told to get a fucking move on.]
Tuesday, February 03, 2004
visas
drinking water
money
insurance
vaccinations...?
snow...?
shoes...?
food...?
hotels which offer hot water by the bucket?
drinking water
money
insurance
vaccinations...?
snow...?
shoes...?
food...?
hotels which offer hot water by the bucket?
- chuck is on the telephone booking an airline ticket for me.
- los angeles (LAX) - amsterdam (AMS) - almaty, kazakhstan (ALA)
now the worst parts:
- he paid for it and i have to act happy.
- i have a separate trip to asia two weeks after i return.
it's none of their business, but my parents should be alerted to the fact i will travel on to uzbekistan, kyrgyzstan, turkmenistan, and afghanistan. maybe i will tell them after i arrive? when this trip was only a possibility i was referring to it as central asia which sounds benign and did only return clueless responses from motherfigure when i mentioned it to her in december.
yes, i should:
- afghanistan- i have to tell them.
- what if something happens to me?
- i don't have a travel-mate.
no, i will not:
- my parents have never been my safety net, telling them is pointless.
- los angeles (LAX) - amsterdam (AMS) - almaty, kazakhstan (ALA)
now the worst parts:
- he paid for it and i have to act happy.
- i have a separate trip to asia two weeks after i return.
it's none of their business, but my parents should be alerted to the fact i will travel on to uzbekistan, kyrgyzstan, turkmenistan, and afghanistan. maybe i will tell them after i arrive? when this trip was only a possibility i was referring to it as central asia which sounds benign and did only return clueless responses from motherfigure when i mentioned it to her in december.
yes, i should:
- afghanistan- i have to tell them.
- what if something happens to me?
- i don't have a travel-mate.
no, i will not:
- my parents have never been my safety net, telling them is pointless.
thunk
thunk
thunk
thunk
thunk
i have absolutely no reason to write here.
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