Dear me,

you are a total fucking bellend.

But I do actually like you, even if only on other people’s say so and I am coming round to accepting you as some weird fucking thing that flows through life with eyes on everything but the road, and somehow never crashes.

I have wonderful friends and through them, I’ve come to trust myself.

Still think I’m a dick, obvs but don’t want to hurt myself to recompense that or anything and I do know people like me because fuck my eyes, they are using theirs not mine.

I miss not liking myself and paying the price but I guess it’s also a knowledge I’m not yet ready to share in case I’m not ready and I fall back crash and burn so much that bad shit goes down.

People announce they are not an alcoholic anymore and get applause and everything. If i announce mine, not only might I not be ready, nobody will really give a shit because they don’t understand.

Booze and drugs and gambling or any of that stuff is easy for people to get their heads round but this is a whole other world because they don’t even understand what you’ve escaped from never mind how much freedom you have just gained.

Drinking a million beers a night or injecting heroin into your eyes is at least something people can sort of get their head round but taking a knife and slicing your own arms because otherwise your brain will explode, is a little bit trickier for them to grasp I think.

I don’t want to squish my own head and squeeze it to hold in or let out the screams inside anymore, ish. but I just did it then when my hands were nearly doing it and my brain was somehow almost year do it and I’ll scream or not scream.

But I didn’t because I don’t need to. It’s want vs need and that’s what this fight is all about.

I’ve accepted I don’t need it but I still want it.

Not only am I losing the knife I’m even losing the hate myself when I’m wasted thing.

I like me and I don’t want to because it’s hard work and

you’re not my shrink, shut up

I’ve thought it before about the clarity and sometimes when I’m in about here as I am right now when I’m talking to myself on this. I know what I’m saying or rather I know what I’m thinking and I’m thinking these words and even paying attention to when I make my right little finger go for the backspace button because I got a letter wrong,

Or when it pressed Enter just then to make a paragraph like I’m going to make it do again after I press comma,

I can see things and focus and know what I’m doing even though all I’m doing is talking about what I’m doing but I am totally paying attention to that.

And that’s what I think clarity is and if I got diagnoses and shit and went on proper medication I think I’d see things with this kind of one track focus don’t get sidetracked view of things and as much as it might be useful in the grown up world, I don’t want it.

When you pay attention like I assume it is, all the dragons go away, all the playgrounds, all the swings, all the side track side paths of weird adventures go away or become closed.

and I can’t imagine riding a ride that went from a to b.

I don’t like that I can’t pay attention and I get all weird and it makes me cry a lot sometimes and I wish I could just focus.

but if doing that is what I think it is then hence why I’m scared of such a thing.

Imagine me if I just talked sensible all the time?!!!!!???

I get scared because I think I’m broken but I’m terrified of being fixed.

There’s been a brain thing going on recently and dreams involved and what am I?

A friend once told me they were looking for the new Buddah in all the wrong places.

I’ve been told things about me and the way I talk and

I have dreams about being on the cross but it’s all so long ago it doesn’t even pain me in the memory any more.

I feel like I wont die again but how many times have I before?

I don’t think I am whatever I think I am yet and maybe one more incarnation and generation and then I can finally explode.

Good or bad that’s up to the who knows.

I’d really like it if I didn’t have to come back again. I am so tired and please let this be my last.

But at times I do so feel so beautiful and even though I’m using other eyes not my own, and I can see the reflections into eternity,

I’m worried I’m missing something and have one more go around to go.

There is a thing about stuff I forget to talk about or tell myself sometimes and it’s that, even though I say stuff and tell people things, I sometimes most times forget it applies to me

A shit load of groovy people dig me. They really do. Like totally awesome people think I’m cool.

You can buffet these things and pass them on or however we deal with it but the truth of me talking to me now on my own diary thing is that from since I was I kid to now at almost sixty years of age, I’m pretty fucking ace.

I might be as weird as shit and not even begin to understand myself but all these groovy people dig me and I’m even accepting it these days without being scared.

I’m a total weird and a bellend and everything but I’m also dead ace.

Remember you’re supposed to be saving the last for yourself, now go to bed.

The thing about the booze/high when it’s right is that’s it’s almost my only Focus time. When I can actually focus on one thought path and follow it without taking any (ish) of the sidetracks offered.

I don’t know if I wish I could do this in normal life but it would be interesting to swap now and again.

I know the booze isn’t good for me, the weed totally is despite any outcomes.

But the two of them together sometimes like now I have more focus than I’ve ever had anywhere.

I do need to cut down on the booze but I need to find the same thing in me that I have then but without it.