Anger is easy — it is meditative. Certainly not in a traditional sense, but I can find solace in the rumination. Other times, I just cry. I’ve been crying a lot recently. It has been a few months, so my body has likely processed out all of the schizo medication. These were my thoughts going into the medication; “tomorrow will be my first day on antidepressants and it is a very scary thing. As the person that I am, the person and the mind that I’m used to having, are things that may disappear overnight, and I’m really scared of losing a part of myself permanently. There have been many instances in my life that I’d best compare to someone unempathetic to my situation to the feeling of dried sweat in your skin — a feeling of uncomfortableness. It’s something that people can bring about or situations or places but you’ll be surrounded by friends or loved ones or maybe all by yourself and that feeling will come on to you. Like you just need to get out go somewhere safe, somewhere alone. Sometimes you don’t know what you need. Sometimes I’ll be sitting by myself, and I just can’t control my thoughts. I’ll put objectives into my head of things I would like to do or should do will do have done, and those thoughts become completely uncontrollable — and the only thing I feel I need is another human there to experience with me. I’ve found very few people that I can just talk to you about numerous things. A lot of people will bring on the quote unquote dried sweat feeling a lot of situations, and there there really is no safe space. There’s just no time when I feel completely comfortable. Closest thing I’d say I have a to a safe space would be my room at home, and yet it feels uncomfortable when other people are in it. Maybe the truth of the matter is I just don’t feel comfortable around other people, but these thoughts and feelings still come to myself when I’m by myself. I see humanity declining at a rapid rate. Covid is definitely no help in that matter, and I can say confidently that my mental state has deteriorated exponentially over the course of this pandemic. My ability to either differentiate between right and wrong — reality and fiction. I as someone who’s grown up surrounded by a constant influx of media, a perpetual stream of media — the the feeling of being encapsulated in a piece of media to the point where it erodes at your mind is something that, I can really easily steep into any give any given moment; but there’s something familiar in this feeling of unease, as in these moments I can always self-reflect. I can always look inside myself and acknowledge that I am uncomfortable whether or not I should be. It’s a moment of inner dialogue that I appreciate being able to have. Myself, I cannot go second in my day without 50 voices going off — all my voice I’m not schizophrenic, but without numerous voices inside my head you know just thinking whatever could be thought, whatever can be thought; and while it it can be a lot too, it can be a lot to spoon through a lot to comb through it. I’m still thinking what I need to think, what I feel in that moment. I need to know and it it all just comes down to willpower, and whether or not you have the power over your body — whether you have the power over your mind. I feel like most people don’t. I, to many extents, definitely do not, but I feel like it’s on a very different axis than what I view on a daily basis. Moving into this new chapter of what used to be my life, I’m met with nothing but fear/anxiety, whether or not those things are mediated by medication. I’m still very scared. I’ve been going to therapy for a long time now, and I feel it has not helped at all. I’ve seen numerous different people over long periods of time, and none of it’s helped. A lot of it could be because these people are part of the problem, part of a different subset potentially. I really don’t know, but consider this my last moments as me as I know myself right now. As I reflect on my life the choices I’ve made, good or bad, I’d say that I’ve gone down a path that I can appreciate. I can look at the experiences that I’ve had, all the times I’ve been hurt or troubled — random anxiety attacks or a moment of camaraderie with my lifelong companions. I can reflect on these moments, and I can say confidently that I want to change a thing given the opportunity. Now, whether or not I’m ever able to think on the same level that I do today, I want it to be known that I’m going into this with my horizons brightened. I want to come out a better person, but the state being the way it is, in terms of medication and neurological knowledge — laziness more than likely, I’m going to be jumping around medication numerous different medications for the next few years of my life potentially. When I approach this impressionistic fuzz, I think to myself how would I know I’m on the right one. All I know is now and while a lot of it has been those dried sweat covered moments, if some of it is better and some of it is worse, how do I know? That it’s correct what is normality in that capacity with any two given points the the relation between them could be anything. If I ask you to draw a line from point a to point b, that line has now become any length. Without a third point where that point b the axis that we’re plotting on or a constant in a scientific experiment. You always need a basis to draw everything else up against and without that you have nothing. You have a meaningless point of data. I would like to be able to just take one medication and be done, but it seems like this more than likely not gonna be the reality of my situation. It’s only gets more complicated when we start talking about milligrams and dosages. More so than, my occasional unrest when it comes to dealing with my own mind. I’m just really upset with the way the world was turned out. This was just not the future that we were promised, and it’s painful to see the world unfold into increasingly negative ways each day. People go at each other’s necks on social media every second. You have to wonder just why on all these things when, when I’m doing some sort of psychedelic drug, I often find myself in what I describe as my my dream world — a partitioned section of my subconscious and areas I will often visit in reoccurring dreams, and here why I feel nothing but an interlocking connection between all humanity. This idea that, while the world may be strange at least we have each other. It’s just really not the truth. That idea that mentality is brought about through hallucinations or tapping into, you could say, a more spiritual you. Say it’s tapping into the the hive mind — the central linking element of the human subconscious, regardless it’s all a fallacy. It’s all farce. I know from my experiences there are very few people in this world that care about me on the most genuine levels. Being brought together with someone through complete circumstance is great if you continue to talk and be kind to each other, but the fact of the matter is, everyone’s world needs friends. Everyone in this world needs a lover. Everyone in this world has a father and a mother, at least at some point — and these chance situations that we find ourselves in are just that there’s very few things that bind most people to one another other than these circumstances and a need to fill these social roles that we need on a mental health level, an emotional level. Then you drift back into the impressionistic haze, and you start questioning again ‘well then what is the constant? What is the third point? What is my my plane for differentiating between a real relationship and a fake one? What are my axis’s?’ I really wouldn’t be surprised if the jig was up soon. 2020 has been a crazy year, and if it were all to end now, I would not be in the slightest surprised. It’s been like a like a Windows and a shutdown process — random bits and bytes being thrown to the wayside, categorized stored quickly; random access memory being deleted. Our world is falling apart. People are falling apart. I feel like we’re just about to get the bad ending and tomorrow, I will get my bad ending.” What a crazy nut, huh?