slowly recognizing the immense number of voices in my head.
it's driving me more and more insane. it's not quite the
loudness of the voices, but it's just the constancy of them
all. it's 24/7, my mind is always thinking at a rapid pace.
even when i just wake up, i can still hear myself thinking
about my dreams, and all the logic and patterns about it,
the dream is magnified and reflected a thousand times over
as i wake up. and its like that all the time, i can never
get any peace and quiet. a voice is always chiming about
suicide, no purpose in life, faults in every path, my
mistakes, paranoia, or just random shit for no apparent
reason. when i start thinking about certain negative
thoughts, a new voice starts rambling random words into
sentences just as a way to repress the negative thoughts.
but chaotic thoughts aren't too much better than the guilt.
i just can't get any relaxation. any activity in my life
only adds to the material my mind can throw in my face. i
smile a lot, though. i smile in desparate situations and
solemn, serious moments. but i smile and laugh at normal
times, so at least im normal enough in that area. one of
the worst parts is my political/social views. ive realized
that anarchist/socialist views are much more complicated
than capitalist views. oh, how i wish i could be simple,
assign each person supremacy over another, everything in
it's right place. but, deep down, i know it isn't right.
socialism is the only true fair and equal system. the daily
show was good today. i think im traveling in another path
of self-mutilation. im not sure if it will be beneficial or
not. i think it will be a very mild phase, but even so, it
will mean a lot. i care way too much about what people
think of me. that totally goes against my values of
nonconformity. but its just those voices again, nabbing the
easiest bait. the thing that bugs me the most is when i
talk to someone i know, and someone next to me hears
something but takes it out of context and thinks im a dick,
but i was really just being sarcastic or cynical. shit,
still too many voices. maybe drugs or pills is the answer.
then again, i could use this to my advantage. many
revolutionary artists had mental issues. and i too feel a
craving to create art. how would those artists' work be if
they had taken prozac or something to keep their passion
repressed? still, its a high risk. if i do take up an art
of some sort, suicide will probably be higher, since the
stress and pressure will be higher. i dunno, i can't even
fuckin concentrate on simple issues because my brain is
tired from thinking about mindless worthless crap all day.
i really feel the addiction. addiction does run in the
family. im glad it skipped my parent's generation. but i
can really feel it. something deep within me, striving to
get some outside source. just a smoke or beer to me, even
though ive never tried it, seems like just the thing i need
to relieve this stress. maybe the cause of addictions are
that we build up more stress than others, so we need
something more to calm ourselves, or something like that.
if we dont get hooked on something, our pain sits with us
and never gets released. i think alchohol would be best for
me, less inhibitions, less memory, less stress, etc. plus i
dont' drive, so there wont be a danger in that area, at
least. i shoulda gone to bed a while ago. my sleep pattern
is just too fucked up. im missing something. mercury, hope,
relgion, social interaction, compassion, or even a fuckin
hobby, im missing something.