Paranoia (Have I used that before?)
Holy Jesus, this sure has been a day of Extreme Paranoia that almost ended in complete emotional breakdown but by the grace of God, or some other entity, I was spared. Believe me when I say that my neck is sore due to constantly turning around and looking for followers, oh yes. The old saying that being paranoid doesn't mean you're not wrong is probably true.
I haven't shaken that feeling still and something still feels wrong. Don't know what or why I feel like this but something must have altered my state of mind terribly. Lack of sleep might have to do something with it but there must be something else lingering inside me. But hey, let us not focus on the negatives. That's my honest opinion and my fucking honest opinion is top-notch!
Vivid and scary dreams seem to be the Way of Life for me lately and I think that the general lack of sleep once again plays a part. When my mind finally gets sleep it's all warped up and creating weird but yet comforting dreams of sorts. How you explain this to someone else sure is hard so let us not try but rather focus on those adjectives, ey?
Death to the Weird; Weird is Comforting. That sounds like a great epitaph for me, indeed. But enough of that, I still got many years in me, if just to annoy the experts of Easy Living. Well, we'll see how that turns out in the end but I'm pretty confident that there is a plan, even for someone like me. The plan might not be Great or Thundering but I'm sure it will be just what I deserve. Alas.
Ah... A quick sniff out of the old test tube sets my world into the right mindset and the feeling of paranoia ebbs away and is replaced by something creative; my Normal State of Paranoia. Oh yes, there is something called Normal Paranoia even though the distinction between Normal and Weird Paranoia when it comes to me is practically none, even on the best of days. But the Normal Paranoia sure can activate my mind and it helps crank out the string of words that slowly turn into Porterian proportions and even more slowly it takes on a life of itself; at least for me it does.
It's always a strange thing to discuss your writing with someone else; it can feel uncomfortable even with the closest of friends. Of course there are people that it never feels strange with and my sister is one of them. But everyone else is not the same of course; no one can take her place. It's strange because it makes you feel more than you are, like you are someone who actually knows what he's doing. But keep on discussing it since it gives me something to write about.
Who's that for an attempt at Fame and Fortune? Obviously lies and half-truths but that's all in Good Spirit.
Well, the night isn't getting any younger and tomorrow is a day with new classes and new opportunities to be seized so
I'll sign off with an affectionate note;
"In the town of broken dreams,
The streets are filled with regret,
Maybe down in lonesome town,
I can learn to forget."
Dr. H.R.P.
PS. Has this note been on the site before today? DS.
