depression is uttered a lot by people, myself included. normally when i let some of this bleed into my writing, this point in the day is where i would have a glance at anything i wrote when i was feeling it the most during the evening previous [saturday night is prime time for pangs of depressive passages]
i don’t subscribe to the doctrine adopted by the stoic people who dish out fucking horrendous feats of inhumane cruel barbarity; masquerading as very thinly veneered anodyne denominations e.g. banter and tough love. their pseudo-nonscience rigamarole is the school of [lack of] thought; where they think that – what things are like in their own mind – it is exactly the same for everyone else. on abuse: never did me any harm / i turned out alright … anything that came easy to them: blah blah blah, job done. simple. (indeed) …. whenever conditions weren’t ideal, or a task any measure of complication: – literally revealing their prejudice word for word: if i can do it anyone can do it – back to depression
although i’m still here which will always discredit my claim to have tried to do it, you could be flying through it somehow able to manage one minute, but then something will come along and sap all of the energy until every last reserve is depleted and you’re crumpling up the empty wrapper of the will to live, not even stopping to pick it up if you manage to miss such a focal point – the fucking garbidge – for the disposable substance about your life. might sound a bit harsh on one’s self but there’s an anger, some disregard about it that “self pity” doesn’t even touch the sides
last night was the weekly re-iteration of a pattern that just makes every weekend filled with untapped potential. i was about to clear my written sentience about it like i usually do, but i can’t in all honesty say that the disappointment of it really does constitute an expression of self pity. to pity one’s self, there has to be self-deprecation about the wording that ends up getting used. while there are several things people accuse me of being which they are just hypocritical to even say – i’ve definitely taken care of the “love yourself before” criteria people prolifically patronise as pre-requisite to their [say it like it is: a get-out-of-unwanted-affection-free condescent] fascist self-entitlement of the final decision on whether any love you know you have is actually valid, as opposed to filed under F for fake, as in fucked off alongwith the rest of your sorry cancelled ass
when i was thrown in prison and forgotten about for that first year – one thing that i did manage to accomplish was to get twelve books written. based on the painful absence of anything street-wise, and the kind of category B inspiration for creativity – you could definitely assume some of it was bleak. but i didn’t get them to put me on nonce wing for no cunt; and all the things about me that the rent-a-cunts tried to tell anyone vacant enough that was supposed to be broken or damaged about me; never seen, and especially now – you had your chance to break me you blew it, you’re never going to get another one – my inner workings are a machine and that machine is running better than it has ever been in all of my life
you don’t have to become part of the machine to watch me operate. yeah, because my thoughts and some of the extracts i enjoyed creating from any of my custom literature have a place; because i post my thoughts / feelings on here; because i know that people come here frequently and read what i have to say, i might have overestimated the effort i made to address being a dick about something – and thought just being straight saying it would be nice to talk so you can experience the not being a dick version … maybe i neglected to mention that i am capable of talking without wanting something like a happy ending or a hand shandy
maybe i neglected to consider that no one wants to talk to me and the only way i’m going to reach you is just this one-sided me posting / you reading thing … which is a shame because right now, even as you read this post … it’s as though we’re staring at one another over the abyss. so let me just clarify one more thing for you in that case …
i brought you here. whatever i think, i’m not trying to compartmentalise any more. it’s not spread out over various social media accounts [that no longer exist now] … then i went out and equipped myself with the ability to record and show you things, what things look like from my perspective. even though it’s perfectly alright to speak to me, i thought it would happen sooner or later. so all i can do is carry on telling you [you do come here therefore want to be told] what i think, showing you [you also spend time watching the things that i show you therefore like to see something for yourself]
so there i am on saturday but it’s not pity. you can pity me if you want, but i will always know that i tried to reach out. i’m not putting it on you to reach out to me. i’m just not very adept at conveying that it’s alright for you to talk to me. if there’s some reason why you thin it’s not alright to talk to me – then you need to find whatever sources of pressure are manipulating you into maintaining this silence. i’m sick of trying to show you all [where i live and on the wider internets both] that you’re letting yourself be blagged with ridiculous things. some of you have known me my whole life, or yours … you know me better than that. all i’m interested in ain’t some ulterior motive. i just want to carry on living in this place where i’ve lived loved and lost for all of my life. i don’t want to resent you, all i want is to join you – an human being, of this beautiful bastard town
i’ve faced all the nasty horrible daemons and have made peace. i never stopped being who i am, and if i lost my way at some point well i certainly now where i’m going now…
…apparently i don’t have to go particularly far
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