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.