westid

there’s no place like home. there’s no place that is home. there is a my place, but that’s me put in a place. moving along with elegance and grace. my reach is far nearer, my world come ever smaller. everything so characteristic of me, misunderstood. nothing sentimental or a solace, strangers but with similar blood. i put together all the things i hold dear to me that i could. no matter what it means to me, i’m an idiot for taking it upon myself or think in good conscience that i should

it’s even quieter now than lately it was, and if you knew how quiet that were then you would be totally fuckin bamboozled it was physically possible to take that any further. there’s me doing my own thing and carrying on, there’s no one to pick up on the signals i broadcast, they’ve all gone. to be fair though, it’s an unexpectedly peaceful turn i never expected to take, at least anything that comes my way now doesn’t run the tiresome possible risk that i might invest myself into something fake. i wouldn’t wish for anyone anywhere to let themselves fall for the same mistake. as a matter of fact i’m lucky, because at least no one around me will have noticed why i have broken so many times there’s nothing left intact enough for me to break

it’s reviving to be here and witness fuck ups someone else had the honour to make. when i first realised that none of [whatever’s goin on] is for my sake it felt like shit – like waving back at someone who isn’t on about you – kind of a let down because something interesting about it reached me. but when i got used to the idea, i was grateful that i could take a moment and sit something out sans the confusion what’s it mean this time? trying to figure what this latest ambivalent ambiguity is all about. instead i expressed a sigh of gratitude for once it’s actually nowt; go on you beaudiful people, let me appreciate your fearless feminine energy for once and go without the [formerly intrinsic] involvement-induced headache

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logical fallacy: just because i’m finally not causing any variety of “beef” or doing my usual wade right into something and getting entangled before i can wade back out … doesn’t mean that nothing is going on, in fact the contrary appears to be the case … and it’s moving at [a] pace

these two people who come up as a punishment after i got convicted of the exact thing that was happening to me, finally put a stop to something that you wouldn’t expect someone who decided to make helping people’s health care a vocation to get a kick out of doing — suddenly caused me to be classed as a real person and, in hindsight been a complete fucking mug for all this time, doing whatever flidd dance they told me to keep on doing for another year but i didn’t realise that this was what this ass hole was doing because he didn’t think i could go without taking a drug for 1 then 2 years. then got right in my face about it, expecting me to – and i nearly did to be fair – react like i could see no further than the present, presumptuously thinking that impulsivity is only an external [never internal] thing, and can only be negative or violent. these dick heads were laughing at me while i pointlessly behaved myself all that time, ironically i had to break the rules and face the irony of the whole case spells out that provoking someone knowing they might attack you is in the very wording of what i’m supposed to have done at the time, and then something finally changed all of a sudden i weren’t being laughed at it’s instantly become serious, spuriously superfluous severe, i’m this evil villain of the people – chronic junky nothing wrong with him just the fact that he’s an incorrigible rogue succumb to the forces of darkness living out his life of crime

anyway if i had carried on behaving myself like a gullible wanker, these people they brought in would never have come; remembering the way the cunts tried to quickly fire up their trick in an abrupt, abject attempt to shut me down instantly re-iterating their negligent, spiteful, by their own admission for their personal amusement, rubric … i don’t think being diagnosed autistic would have stopped more of the same. it’s because their little getalong gang took their office culture [the kind you would find on an agar plate] too far and hit the jackpot when someone they could stand behind – their story changing every time they told it – was gobby enough to let everyone and anyone know how delicate and deserving of financial compensation they are

because i wanted the claims being made against me to be subject to an investigation, and welcome the version of the story that would be eventually decided upon, i wasn’t punished. however – i don’t know if you’re on either side of this one, but let me tell you something, there is nothing you can go through that tops how infuriating it is to have mental health / neurodevelopmental issues [real ones, not anxietydepresson] and – trying to get help, reaching out, hundreds of referrals off 9 separate concerned organisations – only to be told that your actions were brought about by drugs and you need to begin some sort of neuropsychopharmacological conversion therapy [that’s what it is, and prejudice is prejudice, in all forms] demanded by a court and issued by some patronising prevaricating placating pack of pillocks, and no matter how hard you try to hold your own … meanwhile, get it all from anyone and everyone that you will never be even a human fucking being if you don’t give up this “positive attitude” [lack of prejudice against] toward arbitrary consumable substances that are illegal to own, cultivate, or sell

anyway i digress there. just a couple of people who were sent in because i got done, nothing else in my life any different, maybe i thought there were things going on and that was shit but now i know it’s nothing to do with me any of it, serenity. changed a vile regime of abuse defacing the good name of the NHS, things are changing for the good. no one is calling the things going on in my head “drugs” … and even though one of them hasn’t come around for a while, been held up somewhere at passport control yet still so thoughtfully now and then finds time to show their solidarity with me, it’s like someone shocked the world around me and tilted the marbles that started to roll

starting to figure me out, thoughts in my mind are stirring about the so-far unspoken grasp that takes an inevitable surge in confidence, short-sharp, commanding, shout. a growing dynamic that seems to form in between informal and unspoken, doesn’t mean i’m broken. i’ll never go down without a fight, but when it’s all docile and darkness, why would anyone give a fuck if it’s not right when a spark makes a flame and the fire sets alight. i never handed someone the keys before, to me / my world / my thoughts, and more. i might have dug an hole for myself, not quite sure. now i can see, curious, everyone who is anyone with a heart and a soul couldn’t be blamed for seeing this chance and wanting to explore

i’m not going to go deeper here, it’s an ensemble cast with certain others all albeit briefly playing their role. i’m starting to think that this unseen force is balancing things out. drama has fuck all to do with me, things are actually going right somehow. this is too good to be true, something’s going to fuck it all up, i deny the pleasure of my own success, i’m just waiting to end up in another fiiiine mess. even though i am thankful for the indifference, my senses still seek that ambivalent indulgence