Been a long time since a post but I know a lot of people are interested to know where I am as far as disability goes and there is good news: I got it, apparently. I'm not swimming in money or anything yet but I got a letter today that said the judge approves and I have a meeting with some guy friday to finalize some papers for SSI and medicaid compensation. So yeah, good news. Cheers.

Writing is a bitch, it really is. You can get praise from whatever quarter and still, when it comes down to putting it out there, or trying, everything you've written is piss to be swallowed by horrors of the deep and forgotten. I wonder if there's ever a time in a writer's career where that effect is dampened at least some. This seriously happens to me every time. I remember a long time ago I received praise on some work I did from Ryan Glenn and he wanted to take a look some more and so Matt Trowbridge came to my (Ben K.'s) house to pick it up and as I was staring at the computer screen I got a case of the this is shits and wouldn't turn it over. So I just did the same thing with some poems I'm submitting to a magazine except I actually handed them over this time. We'll see how they're perceived.

I turned on Window by the Album Leaf and felt like doing top fives.

Favorite Albums
1 - Godspeed You! Black Emperor - Lift your skinny wrists like antennas to heaven.
2 - Converge - Jane Doe
3 - Explosions in the Sky - Those who tell the truth shall die, those who tell the truth shall live forever
4 - The Album Leaf - In a safe place
5 - The Get Up Kids/Coalesce - Split 7"

Favorite Books
1 - Gabriel Garcia Marquez - 100 Years of Solitude
2 - Gary Snyder - The Gary Snyder Reader: Prose, Poetry, and Translations
3 - J.D. Salinger - 9 Stories
4 - William Burroughs - Naked Lunch
5 - James Joyce- Ulysses
(an honorable mention for only ever coming to me in book form, and fitting nearly anywhere on the list is Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett)

Favorite characters to play while one is interacting with plain people (without, of course, audio or visual cues)
1 - River Tam
2 - Spike Spiegel
3 - Remedios the Beautiful
4 - The Joker
5 - Rand Al'Thor

Favorite Sweats
1 - Chi sau with an attractive and deadly woman
2 - Mushrooms
3 - Road-trip car seat
4 - Attractive actress on the screen doing over the top attractive shit, although I please don't mean just boobies flying eveywhere
5 - Wing chun form exercise and practice

Favorite Movies
1 - 2001, A Space Odyssey
2 - The Royal Tenenbaums (it must tie with Moonrise Kingdom but take only one slot)
3 - Black Swan
4 - Edward Scissorhands
5 - The Dark Knight Returns, but only for the Joker (people probably do this a lot)

Favorite Television Series'
1 - Firefly
2 - Buffy the Vampire Slayer
3 - Heroes
4 - Star Trek - The Next Generation
5 - Dexter

Least Favorite Mental Illnesses
1 - Schizophrenia
2 - Schizophrenia
3 - Schizophrenia
4 - Schizophrenia
5 - Schizophrenia
(for the drinking game)

Hope that was informative.

I watched Dark Shadows and felt a tickle somewhere for 70s love but I'm finding it hard to dedicate myself to an idea or ideal lately, mostly because I am somewhere between fuck it and let it be. I don't know if this is a bad thing at all, but I feel like I need a parental figure to pat my shoulder and tell me it's okay. As far as the buddhist possibilities of the state go, I don't know if I match up. I still want to be with people on an instinctual level, such that absence makes the heart get angry, and I still desire a wild ride, as it were, where I've been counseled by scripture to accept the regular. I can't do that thing where my eyes glaze over and I go "this IS the wild ride" although I imagine if I did it in the right company and with the right allocation of drugs I could start a movement or religion or something else, as if that isn't how all of those things happen anyways. I spend a good amount of my time not wanting anything, which I think is what the goal is, but I struggle with what I've mentioned, as well as the desire for food and etc, wondering if I should try and purge myself of all these things and I think the answer is no, you just accept it and move on. The wild ride might be an exception...perhaps this IS the wild ride...................................................but yeah, who knows. I know for sure that I'd be less of a fuck it and more of a let it be if I didn't get my baptist training as a child. MUST BUDDHA LEST BE SATAN'd, etc. I heard about some woman in the literary community who had to get a therapist to help purge her of shit she'd learned in sunday school and the like because it was ruining her life and I might need to sign up. Because to better Buddha. Because Satan. Anyways, it's a vicious minefield in my mind..field haha and that's mostly the field up there. That and I have guilt issues now for things I haven't done that voices I've heard have worked towards convincing me I have, but this is minor because I can just ignore them and not go to the certain prison I'd go to if they were correct, and etc. Also what are you supposed to do with that feeling of wanting to DO SOMETHING. Do we just tamp that down? I imagine so. Or maybe that goes away with the Satan. I don't know, I'm so fucked up.

There is only ever one person in the world.

I was reading over a very old post of my brothers' in his blog and he wrote about the concept of wanting to be great at either lots of things or one thing supergreat....essentially. So I want the latter, because I want to wrangle the fuck out of this life but I can't figure out what I want to do and that's been plaguing me since I started thinking about career paths. And this doesn't even have to be a career, mind, just a something. But here, let's examine: I act. Yeah it sounds cheesy but I LARP and play RPGs and while it's nothing like theatre acting or television/movie acting it's still something like them, right? I play characters, I get into character, I change my voice and personality and etc etc which so I'm acting, to some extent. Could I do THAT? I think no, because schizophrenia. I think I can tell you why if you just sound up the Entertainment Tonight theme song. I write. I write here. I've written poems, plays. Nothing has ever gone anywhere but that doesn't mean it's bad, necessarily, or that I wont be able to write something that brings me over that hump into doing that thing amazingly. Disclaimer: I'm not going to say because schizophrenia at everything. But writing - awkward because schizophrenia. I have a difficult time seeing into the mind of your average Joe because mine is so flip turned upside down. I think I can DO it, I just think it needs a ton of work, and I think if I ever write anything ultra-fantastic it'll be odd and accessible only to a minority. Also, the thing with writing is I never really asked for The Darkness, it was just kinda foisted upon me. I did it a lot so I know some ins and outs but still: foist. The scholarly path, bless my friends who be upon it, doesn't really interest me. Philosophy to an extent; I'd love to be wearing Woodard's shoes, but I can't get up there at all. Because schizophrenia. No but in all seriousness I have problems with classes like you wouldn't believe. I used to chew through those monsters in high school and a bit of college but once the shit started setting in my aptitude melted. Not that I can't take a standardized test, or write an essay. I just can't bear a class. Note while reading that if you have any ideas on any of this please be forward with them. Internet classes? I don't know. I haven't explored it but I've basically mined my student loan potential so I don't know how I'd do it. Potentially schizophrenia scholarship? Seriously play the drinking game. The schizophrenia pays off: two shots. So where this leads is potentially to a similar place as Woodard, with publications and exhibitions and the whole nine yards and by the way congratulations my friend you are putting a dent in it. I could dig doing something similar. Other paths are a little sad and I feel unworthy of my time, if fun and interesting. Those being Magic: The Gathering and League of Legends. I do both a bit mediocre as far as the competitive bar is concerned and the only way to make it is to grind your way there which is less of a journey and more of a bite cheese, receive shock, move on type of thing. I have a feeling I'm going to get this all hashed out with my brother, or perhaps my friends, and maybe something will come of it. Probably something will come of it. Stay tchuned.

So I hear a voice asking me what they did to me and immediately the floodgates open and I'm about to cry and I start telling this voice and then I realize it's a voice....that I'm hearing...doing the asking, only about three minutes later. This is more twisted than it seems, I promise, unless it seems very twisted. I have a hard time figuring out what emotions I'm going to evoke now that all of mine are flip turned upside down. I made some nasty facebook about not getting invited to Grant and Joanie's wedding but whatever, perhaps I was forgotten, perhaps not considered because potential mood destroyer, perhaps many things, but I apologize for the nasty facebook anyway, if anyone reading this noticed it. I'm going to delete it after I write this blog. swear like floodgates, you know how when you cry from your shoulders. God that fucking pisses me off. I also got a mohawk back in a bit of a fugue after I asked all of my friends why I wouldn't be invited. It played a miniature role. You also can't style a receding hairline it's fucking impossible, except that when you look at it casually it looks just fine but you're in the mirror every goddamn second just prodding at that shit and it never looks right and I can't handle it so mohawk. I also want piercings and tattoos if anyone wants to donate to the fund. Ask me how to donate to the fund, we'll get something worked out.

new vlog: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDOs5vitCZw&feature=youtu.be

So to add to the previous entry: enabling! I am cruising around Phoenix crazy as fuck and they decide I should have a proper job and pay my own way. Like...you know, it's a nice dream, but even the books. The books! I got around to reading up on the illness one and a few other times at Barnes and Noble and the biggest issue for someone just beginning their endless evil schizophrenic journey is that they probably wont be able to work a place to live, and if you could just do that for them their chances of recovery or stabilization increase drastically. DRASTICALLY. So yes, I want to see these people. They have kids now, though, and I want to see them, so I'll probably go and cold shoulder the older ones. I was right about the highschool reunion - it is going to suck. I went and acted all radical and told them all I have the S-word and that I wouldn't be attending but who is even going to go anyway? I'd want to hang out with my friends and clique up like the good old days. So yeah. I still am definitely going to the 20 to scout for schizo chicks. You guys should play a drinking game with my blog: read through the whole thing aloud and with booming voices and take a shot every time I mention schizophrenia.

So which one of yous is my faithful wife like'm from the movie Crazy Schizo Math Guy. I'm pretty sure I scared off all of the smart chicks by being an asshole through college. That or the drugs. I actually don't have very much more to say, but we'll see if I can stretch it, but mostly I just wanted to say that first sentence. Life is a lot of dos and do nots. I feel like I've grabbed life by the testicles and shook and mostly that's because of the drugs but some of the rest of it is because of the genetic hallucinations but still I feel like I have to make another grip down there and turn widdershins because that's the best direction to turn testicles, I find. Okay so but instead of doing that I sit up in this apartment and do literal nothing, like sometimes a videogame but really nothing and there are a lot of people I want to pie in the face. Holy I remembered something I wanted to talk about. I have estranged family that I don't talk to because they were awful to me, but recently one of them contacted my mom and wants to re-establish relationships with the side of the family she shunned for a bunch of years. There was lots of mutual shunnery. So I don't want this, because long story short when you get schizophrenia the books say 'help the kid with housing, for fuck's sake' and instead they kicked me out of theirs and said they were enabling me. So fuck those assholes. I have to go or I'd have been more eloquent. Cheers.

Devices to test what type of liquid is falling. From a distance, of course. Today and other days. They got me on another medication which helps when I take it but then I turn into a molding log, laying down and/or sleeping for the entire day. There's a tradeoff. I don't really expect life to ever be a-ok again, but I hope for little things here and there. Anyways, all of the devices to better control the populace, etc. What you can drive around you can drive into a tree, or up an incline even should it be chosen. But it's always a second later that you realize that some fear made that up, or that a voice that just CAN'T be a device made that up and you're back to square one. You want it to be a device because that would make sense, and then you wouldn't need a band-aid. So the new band-aids kinda work....well that's how it's been since the beginning of this ride. I spent one day at a homeless shelter full of people who are like I'm possibly slated to become and it's a real sleigh-ride of a mindfucker, that. A lot is hinging on disability owing up to the fact that I'm mostly a walking toaster pastry only of course I still have some intelligence left but it's not like I got eaten, just chewed up real bad. We'll see. They say the trick is to keep trying but there's only so long I can camp out at a friend's house before somebody wants me to do something or another and I freak out. But anyways. They know that's blood you're dripping. Do you know why?

Where is my manners face. There's a very good chance that if you're reading my blog you know who Ben Woodard is, but you might not know that he writes at naughtthought.wordpress.com, so check him out over there. Sort of a reverse plugdiloop.

I think it's funny having to begin all of your vampire fantasies with the dark entity coming from the window or bursting through the door and then making you run on a treadmill for two months before consigning you to eternal beauty. In these fantasies I often get abs, because if it's going to be eternal....Anyways I am aware of the traffic from Woodard's site and I must say I enjoy a good friendly plug, thanks Ben. If anything readers from that realm will get to know a friend he's had since the early stages and contemplate how that took part in making him who he is. If you find yourself coming back here and want to be made aware of when I've made a new post you can always add me on Facebook at joshua.mccord.39, which I use primarily to tell people when I've made new posts and post pictures of myself being adorable. A good way to make today's post flow is the fact that Ben talked about my troubles with schizophrenia, and a new batch are popping up. I pretty much constantly hallucinate and have grown used to it, but on occasion these hallucinations escalate to the serious variety and I start the inner screaming and well long story short I've been getting a lot of that recently which means the medication I'm on isn't working anymore. This has happened to me with every medication I've taken, bar none, and another part of hallucinating seriously is remembering what it was like to be without medication and the rather horrifying world that becomes. So I'm staring down the barrel of incoherence and I don't have much to do for it. Hopefully there's a new medication every time I need a new medication, which I suppose is plausible. Regardless, I'm going to be checking into the hospital soon, and probably need a push or something because I'm holding off to 'continue my diet so I don't get fatter in there' and to 'send that package for a friend' which are both very important to be sure but freaking out every night is not how you're supposed to be on medication. Soon I'm wandering around town writing people into my book nightmare and trying very hard to shoot fireballs.

I got over all of my facebook crushes and am having a sort of holiday today. I think it occurred mostly from the negative reinforcement incurred by wanting desperately some conversation and then receiving none. You could ask why I didn't strike out and try to reel somebody in, but I don't feel that's a man's place in the world anymore. Things change and turn and I feel very uncomfortable playing that role. No really, you can't expect it of everyone. But regardless, a holiday. I might have vodka and tea. I haven't updated this in a while because I was a little discouraged at getting very few views on my vlogs, but I mostly just wanted my facebook crushes to see me smiling, so....you know, a new era has dawned. I still don't know if I'll make too many more of those but we'll see. If there's occasion to put something out there that doesn't need to be seen, perhaps. As I said in an earlier post I've returned to being vegan and I've lost some weight so when I lose all of it and am a mote I'm going to give myself a punk rock haircut, for a similar reason I'm having this vodka and tea holiday. Or I might just keep my hair the same but regardless it's going well. I got my disability hearing postponed so that I might pick up some representation which is a nice piece of fortune going my way. I still don't know if I'll actually get it, or if I can actually bear staying inside all the time and doing absolutely nothing, but perhaps I'll like it in a new city or find something to get me outside of the house more regularly than once a week, which is about my quota now. I just almost fell out of my chair. Well goodnight.

beard update, can't miss this shit: http://youtu.be/48R1r44VN7g

I just watched The Avengers and apart from being generally lacking in flavor that disturbs or quickens the thinkbone there was one spot that did it to me, and I'm still kindof reeling. Loki is in his chamber, the Hulk-killing chamber or what have you, and he's talking to the Black Widow about her relationship with Hawkeye and he says 'Love is for children.' which normally coming from a villain one wants to just write off, but not here and Whedon does this to me like every time. The Black Widow is a hardened spy who can probably get behind his sentiment even if she doesn't believe in it and that's what makes it so insidious - that she probably does have that little doubt in her mind and that Loki knows it, being as wise as he is in his fashion, and it sortof strange loops into a very backbreaking statement. The entire rest of the movie I'm enjoying explosions but the thought is festering in my mind 'Love is for children.' and I am a very logical being and give shrift to just about everything so I am thinking what if so, and moreover what do with a life dedicated to love even if it at times lacks love interests. I give shrift to literally everything, by the way, as an aside. When you've had your temples talk to you, the idea that the guy down the street has bird feet isn't likely, but you're prone to go 'maybe bird feet'. It just comes with the territory. I have a feeling I'm not getting at how internally tossed about I am by this fairly silly statement from a comic book movie but it has really effed me up, like I've been thinking about it all day. I wonder if my friends have seen it and felt the depth of the statement made in the way it was made and I wonder if it's just me and the quirky way I see things that has me even giving the idea any space to fester but I have not given in to the statement and I really want to know where it goes if I do. I literally don't want anything else except for toys the imagination throws at me like rocketships and what have you, but for the real - nothing. So if love is for children I'm like not really long for this world, as the saying goes. I will probably start to fade away at the feet until it's just my eyeballs and then I'll blink and be gone. Seriously, very effed up. I want to note that it's not a comical 'he's crazy, he can have silly feelings' effed up, either, which I often imagine people thinking about what I write or the way I act. The latter especially. I am still real, motherfucker.

I have a gang of ants that shares the desk this laptop sits on..or they're not really a gang, more like a motley line of would-be soldiers who aren't soldiering well enough because there aren't enough of them to form a battalion. The other day I had a serious outbreak of hallucinations, the kind like where I want to be in a hospital so I don't mistake someone for a balloon and stab them or something, and in the morning I told my roommates it must have been the ant venom that made me freak out so something hardcore. Ant venom! These must be fearsome creatures indeed. We've coexisted peacefully since they venomed me into a series of hallucinations followed by delusions but for a time I wanted to eradicate their very tiny black persons.

I fucking hate facebook. There's nothing worse than living an existentially unforgiving life, like I have been one with the Arizona sun in my suit-jacket and shorts using Iceman on the door locks to gain entrance to buildings, and then seeing existentially forgiving-looking shit from fucking everyone who coughs on the entire planet. "Haz babby, said first mama.' 'Finished school brain bonus plus ten.' I don't really bemoan the makers of these comments as much as these comments themselves. Like I guess they're writing what they think people want to hear about them, but they're missing the fact that people want the juicy, inside-candy and to love them, the pretty ones at least, which how can they do without the candy? If they're children at least. No but so I don't know. I can't handle this crack you are all addicted to. I want to KNOW other people.

New hair and beard: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pR0gIjvx5xc&feature=youtu.be

Other readers of great literature: Do you imagine yourself as hopefully leading lives similar to those of the writers of said literature? In college I decided to be Jack Kerouac but I didn't let anyone blow me or was that Cassidy and then I had a Bukowski phase where I kindof hated women and wrote free verse poems about it that were unpublishable and now I want to be Jean-Paul Sartre but already have gigantic tomes under my belt and just be writing letters to my Simone. Sometimes I do characters in movies, although this happens less frequently, but notable entries are River Tam and Spike Spiegel (is it Spiegal or Spiegel? I'm not even going to google this) for when I elucidate them will seem like good reasons. First, River Tam has paranoid schizophrenia, LIKE ME, and that scene which is super memorable to me but perhaps not everybody where she's looking at the ground and her eyes are franticing and Simon asks her if he's talking to River now and she rolls her eyes at him, I basically lived/live that so I get to be whimsical and a crazy genius and shoot people really well for no reason. Spike is like a modernized Buddhist which I find to be particularly wonderful because while the Buddha could find his enlightenment and tell about it from the front of his tree, we've moved along in history and have probably spawned countless Buddhas who go 'huh, I might as well just be quiet', which I do whether or not I actually have achieved enlightenment or am just living a hallucination induced delusion. I also smoke cigarettes and say fuck it a lot, which is a lot like his catchphrase. Less attractive to me than all of the above options are days where I think I'm Rand Al'Thor, the Dragon Reborn, which if you don't know is a schizophrenic magic-user from a fantasy series (the Wheel of Time - smashing read) who is essentially Neo and blows everything up with fire. So sometimes I find myself, instead of fancying my life following that of the above mentioned apart from Rand, literally trying to draw on the One Power and light shit on fire with my mind. This really sucks, and the downturn from having a mind that works like the above one and above two is that I'll probably be doing the above two homeless somewhere dirty and scaring children at age 45 with no teeth and then I'll remember I have to write Simone and update this blog with something wonderful for my missing boo like 'Tenth ave harboring mobsters with mind probes, best to skirt' and 'girl on street actually Madonna but with the Mission Impossible face treatment, better come quick oh dearest Simone'.


I was going to leave it like that because I write essays and I thought it would elicit an emotional response which is sometimes what you're going for but then I figured that if I left it as was that that response would be slight depression, at the least, maybe, so I've decided to stick around and shoot the shit. I am going back and forth on my esports kick, which for those who don't know means professional vidyagaming, where some days I am gung ho, and we have a team (which is all of the days) and some days I think we'll just never get there, or that I don't even really want to be there in the first place. But I really just must do SOMETHING, right? If I was myself at 18 reading that last sentence I would be rolling my eyes back into my head and be going 'yes aunt', or 'yes uncle' and etc and 'i get it, yeah' and then going off to get smashed and hallucinate, on or off drugs. Anyways, must I grow up? I know it's happened to some friends of mine and I wonder how it feels. I'm SURE you can afford drinks at bars, which must be nice, but I think I can bear the anger, resentment, and misunderstanding of all of my peers when at the end of a life I skated through on nothing I'm just dead and the wind picks up my ashes.


I'm vegan again, like I wont even eat a donut, where before I was all 'it's just a tiny bit of egg' and etc and hopefully I'll lose weight because I'm a fatass again which the first makes me feel healthier regardless but the latter needs to leave me because what am I really if the chicks don't want me? No, seriously.

So it turns out the med scare was a false alarm. I had heard from the doctor a while back that without AHCCCS the meds cost money, but that's only non-generic, which of the three I take only one is non-generic. So it's a bit of a problem still, as that's the expensive one, but two things: the people who helped me fill out the forms say that most people who send them in are not denied, and also my doctor says that even without insurance the drug company for my non-generic can be contacted and be made to understand my case, which oftentimes results in them letting me have the meds for free. So the next struggle is getting qualified for disability, and I'm going to see a lawyer on Tuesday, so hopefully we can make something happen there.

So I've already written on Facebook about this but I at least get the option of more characters here so I figured I'd flesh the thing out. Basically, AHCCCS is telling me that they need to determine if I'm disabled enough to get for free the pills that are basically like blood to me. They cost ~1000 per month otherwise, which if I were able to work, which I am attesting in nine short months in court that I am not, I could perhaps get medical insurance from that job to keep the pills. That is assuming I could find one and one that gives medical benefits the first month in the month I have left before I am a complete and utter babbling lunatic. So the only option that seems to make any sense to me is to move to another state where I have friends and that will pay for my pills until I get my disability determination, which if they don't pick me I'll probably just dive off of something very large to end the ridiculousness. That may be the case anyhow if nobody is able to let me stay, as I have done the homeless and pill-less thing before, and after sobering promised to never do it again. So look for a fresh corpse in your local Arizona funeral parlor if you don't hear from me for a few months.

I am reading Inkheart, which you shouldn't because it sucks and I'm about to put it down, but there's a part where the little girl asks her auntie who is a shrew if she's ever had a boyfriend or husband or something and the auntie is like heavens no what would I want to do that for. And I went out with my mother today, which I shouldn't because it sucks but whatever, and we had a conversation with her friend about how her friend's boy doesn't really dive on the females but assures his mother he is not gay, which is pretty much my mother's picture of me. So but anyways I got to thinking about the shrew and thought that it might be the path for me. It's not that I don't believe I'd make a wonderful mate and don't have a high opinion of myself - far from it. It's that I don't have either of those for many of the women I come across. I told this to my mother, but not succinctly, and she said I had the wrong attitude. I don't. I absolutely don't. I do not want to settle for anything I don't want, apart from little things that obviously beg compromise, and I am beset on all sides by things I don't want. I wont settle for a bad attitude out of a girl I would otherwise want 99 percent of the time in my presence. You shouldn't have to, and I wont. So....shrew time. I gave up masturbating about a year ago (you really are interested in that factoid) and without the urge to O every day or couple of days or whatever it is I don't really need to be satisfied on that front, and no I'm not saying a woman is only good for a sloppy O, but as far as an emotional connection goes, fuck yes I need to be satisfied there, but I'm not settling for one that comes with razor-blade cutter legs or fucking around or an evil bitch attitude. So...shrew time, I guess. I don't know how much I care. I try to model my life after the anime character Spike Spiegel, so much so that I had the option to quit smoking but didn't because cmon, Spike, and his philosophy works in this situation as well. And if I remember correctly, he had love in his eyes for the blonde girl but it didn't work out because "bang, bang" and I think I may go out in a similar fashion, without ever conducting a grand relationship. I want to have sex with like 90 percent of the women I meet, or perhaps that is a little high, but there is self respect, and sometimes there's a glint in my eye that never turns into anything grand and conducty, because to conduct I would have to change shoe brands and dye my feet yellow and listen to Eminem and really like it and whatever the fuck else is demanded of me. So...shrew time.

I wonder if this poet thing is some grand delusion. Like yes, I could be being hyperbolic here, but I'm really not - I honestly wonder if I don't consider myself as such because I'm riding the heights of trying to satisfy a delusion. I was thinking over my career in poetry and yeah...I don't know. It just seems like I got put into the role a little after high school with that crazy group of friends and all of the joy that brought was what I was seeking with every poem I made afterward, even though neither the poems nor the populace was capitulating. So I wonder if I want to actually do that for a living, or just want that kind of attention again, and if that kind of attention is a passing thing that you only meet once in your life before you're talking about it on blogs with four grey hairs in your beard, but really if it's just a think I can do it so do it etc etc...I guess this is getting convoluted. What I want to exfoliate is that I can't really recall actively wanting to be there writing them, or actively wanting to be reading them to audiences, or etc. I just wanted to be super poet man, which seems symptomatic of my illness more than of a desire for a place in life. If I think of what I want to be, I get what I always get, which is: nothing. It's not very socially desirable to be nothing, but I don't want to be a part of your system, so I threw it on the ground. Honestly. I don't know how this would have changed if I didn't contract schizophrenia from that bird but since I've had to think about it, which was just slightly before the schizophrenia kicked in, I've wanted to be nothing. A philosopher, if anything, but doing nothing. No, that's it: a philosopher. Although I don't think I would ever have asked for a university education in philosophy, I just want to do it on porches with friends of a similar mind and see what doesn't come up. So perhaps the poetry wasn't all a failure - I got to philosophize some, and more I got to tell a little story that I think needed telling, but I don't think it's a poet's life for me. I can almost feel the waves of disgust rolling over me in this our society of what you are is what you're worth but I still want to be a nothing porch philosopher, fuck it all. Could be that punk rock music. Related videoblog here:http://www.youtube.com/watchv=kNermBeyQeY&feature=youtu.be

So the videoblogs are not as popular as I had hoped they would be. I wanted to be a famous on-screen personality. Perhaps I'll make new ones as the old ones get views, and just mostly stick to writing. I talked to my friends and they're going to let me stay here while my disability hearing goes before a judge, up and until, without paying rent. So shouts to them, new friends are still friends. My mom officially cannot work this site, which means I can talk about her, and so; I'm worried that I'll do the thing she does/has done in her life and leave people behind. Like perhaps it's inevitable and people just move on etc etc but I'd like to believe you can create semi-permanent relationships, death trumping all. I still have an old friend or two that I get into contact with on occasion and I'd like to think that if there were a gathering of old friends we'd all be happy together and not weird, but who knows. I really want to veer from meeting people and barely getting to know them and then letting them shoot by. Like losing a person you have a great connection with and know fiercely is almost less bad than letting someone you could know that well escape, even if you want that death-trump-only-type. At least you had the experience with the first. Maybe my mom's move is her own and she's a rambler or maybe it's how it goes for everyone or just some people or whatever but what I want to promote is serious relationships brimming with intelligent conversation and killforeachother, and these take time to create and sometimes last quite a while and sometimes fizzle out. I think I just talked a circle there but it helped me put down the idea that I'm just friend-jumping, and bring me into the reality that I look for quality relationships, even if sometimes they are lacking.

I got really mad at my friends today because they wouldn't buy me dinner even though I could pay them back in a week and while I was stewing and they were out eating I thought that life should be a shotgun blast of beauty, nay multiple, crecendicious, and that I shouldn't freak out about missing dinner. I got to thinking about what I think is beautiful, and about what my role should be in creating beautiful things, and I basically thought the word beauty a bunch of times while lying on the couch and I came up with the old 'Whatever happens happens' answer, that to strive for it is fine, if you desire, but to find it when it comes up is equally fine. You can only hope it's crecendicious. Still, this is fine, even if there's no bullet train to the crescendo at least there's some more koan in something, which is always a bit beautiful.

More videoblog up on youtube, this time at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dRIH3qzfCPk.

New video uploaded, a poem this time! I don't plan to make a habit of this because I feel like a big failure right now but I wanted to give it a run and I'm having fun with my video editing software so why the fuck not? Also, I explained in the youtube portion, but will explain here as well: there is a part where I am going uhm quite a lot during the poem, and it's not due to nerves or inexperience reading, but to the fact that I had to change a few things up to get it to readable from the formatting it had as a poem to be read on the page. So I hope you don't think I'm a noob, although haven't I been calling myself a noob for a bunch of posts?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TwSx52HkCZ4

Schizophrenia dominates my thought content with fist of iron. I am intrigued by the 10 year high school reunion that is happening this year, but not as much by the 20 that will tell me which females got the Bentley of mental illnesses and who I want to spend the four years after that with until I pledge fealty to the trigger of the shotgun. I'm not really aggrandizing - I want to meet this woman, desperately. There's something unfair about being unable to share your gigantic ouchie with literally anyone you meet, and you even wonder if that person in the mental health clinic has it or just some Pinto disease. I feel my car metaphors aren't fully understandable and probably are not even palatable to the general public, and that's really what gets me. That and the schizophrenia.
Anyways, I feel like I shouldn't define myself by this thing, but if you were a Jigsaw victim would you not want to attend meetings with fellow....that one was in 3D, plus the Dread Pirate Roberts kicked so much ass...but yeah. So back to the high school thing - I have a feeling I wont be attending, because all I can tell people is "Got my mind fucked, failed at everything because, am mostly a layabout and medicated to Egypt now" and hold on, I have to do a major aside, schizophrenia is exactly why I went nowhere with my life but here. I feel completely comfortable saying that, because it's true. If my mind wasn't bleeding, I'd probably be in a career somewhere, post college - the art not passing is another story, although who knows if brainbleed nuked my poetical senses. I don't think so, there, because again I think I do rather well for myself, I just can't really get it to the level it needs to be at the moment and I don't know when I ever will. It's like outpitching all of the minor league pitchers, etc etc. But back to the high school thing. Going, not going? I feel like I have no stake in the outcome, and I've already hung out with friends who have completed college and that feels awesome so it seems like negative stake in the outcome and what else, punch? The 20 year though, I am Rambo for that shit. If you're reading this and female and in my graduating class and you don't clean up much and forget to brush your teeth occasionally I'll see you in ten goddamn years when we have something to talk about, like flopping about like a fish on a floor with your hands around your head and thrashing and and and.
Okay, so that was fun. I now must justify myself. You know how you build worlds of fantasy as a child, like man I wish I were an X-man or holy shit wouldn't it be nice if some of these stories I was reading were read by someone else and we could talk about them. Regular fantasies. It's hard for me to describe, actually, but like just the regular functioning of the mind that goes "I wonder if this person would like this novel" or etc. Well anyway, you begin to build for yourself a group of people who you want to have around you based on things like this....oh he's a good chess player, oh he stomps me at go...and while you hang out with whoever, you build relationships around stuff like that. I just feel like I have a big thing to share and I could go places sharing it and am biting my fingers until I actually can. There, justified, mostly. Uh...there's more to it, really. It's still rather hard to describe, but you tend to exclude people who you don't think fit into your little scheme, and etc, and to dirty little secret I do that a little obsessively. I guess it's perhaps apparent from the rest of the article. It's part "sorry, it's hard to help" and part overwhelming obsession with the disease itself and the function and it makes someone sexy, desirable etc, because of all that. There's this Jung story where he gets the hallucinations to stop emanating from one side of the woman he's treating's body and she says something like you've taken away my beautiful dream or something, I have no quotation marks because I don't know the exactsies, but yeah. Like as awful as the thing is and as much as you want to turn it off you get good hallucinations too and I think most importantly you get a sense of being in this elite club that like you can stare at someone and with your eyes go "you have no fucking idea" and it's actually true.
So two things - One, I don't want anywhere to suggest that I hope this happens to somebody. Disclaimed. Two - What I'm trying to get at with most of the above is a point of extreme interest to me which is this feeling of being completely disconnected from the workings of the people around me, even when we're talking or engaged in some group activity. Like I am so far and gone from this land they inhabit and yet I am positive I convince them I'm in the same cloudspace because they just don't know about where I could be. I want people to know about that, because it's interesting, and because if we hang out you have that to watch out for, and because I really want to connect in the weird cloudspace, so try and find me there. Hahahaha that's so cute, I think, like perhaps Jim Carey could do that line in my autobio when I'm dead of brilliance and pill overdose and people want an autobio because Jim Carey does that weird shit like Dr. Mundo's exploratorium longskinnyfingersbeard.

Videoblog part 1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H43XtmtleZo for my first videoblog. Enjoy!

Buying the Poet's Market to check into getting my manuscript published, or trodden on, whichever be the case. Or some other case. Haven't been being very poety in the past few months, but it wears like a badge and causes an inner glow that turns on when you're in that poety mood, which I am now. Not that I plan on writing anything. I mostly want to get checked out by publishers before I go anywhere with the poetry, as I don't have reliable poety friends for feedback. Poety: word.
Otherwise I've been playing a lot of League of Legends, and have recently obtained and turned down a job due to anxieties and delusions and hallucinations, oh my. If I were a videogame character my armor would be named those things, and I wouldn't be able to defeat monsters. At all. I would cry on them, or batter them with some flail made of straw wrappers and gummy-pennies. The latter needs to be created, if not already.
I have a decent set of acquaintance-like friends and if we watched football there would be butt-patting, but pretty much there's no depth to any of it, and when I try to initiate it it is turned down. So be it. I may have moved into that stage of mandom that with it comes no possible alley or backway into getting your feelings heard; instead there is only quiet rage and tongue biting. Americans have an amazing knack at seeing what your visual persona should be like on the inside and then cramming you into that hole. It comes from the TV. When talking about your friends or acquaintances one usually gives them credit for not being this kind of TV bandito, but it looks a lot like people do it anyway, whatever title they wear, and we're just supposed to deal with it. I hope I'm not a mad-sounder, and am instead a resigned-sounder, but take it as you will. Reading about it is sure to inspire one of these things.