PsiPunk

Taste. Touch. Control. Deny.

This place is reserved for my journal. Here I will unleash the full fury of my mind. Random thoughts. Fucked up as they may be, read with WARNING.

Expelling neurological feces.

Suicide.

Death.

I hate it all.

Compulsory manifestation of self-destructive constructions arising sporadically from my mind.

It takes it all. It likes it.

Read if you want, I don't care. Who does anymore?

Dredge through the chaos. Reach enlightenment. Burn yourself with cigarettes. I still have the circular scar. Maybe I will do it again tonight. The other arm.

The Other One. Speak to me, please. Give me some sign. I search the skies seeking starlight. Shed some light on me. Give me release. My soul to be free. Cry uncontrollably.

I havn't cried in years. No more blood from me, no sir-eeeee!

Fuck it hurts. Goddamn my stomach hurts. Time to take NyQuil. Time to be free. Drink some liquor. Do some dirty deeds.

You're treading on sacred ground now. Fuck you, fuck me. Sorry if you are offended by this. Sorry if I'm scary. This is who I am. God bless the children. I hope they never know these kinds of feelings. God bless everyone. May they be protected.

May they be protected from me.

This will be the first rant of many, many, many, many. Talking to no one helps me cope with myself. Please leave me alone. Leave me in peace. Hell has no place for me.

It hurts to breath. To be alive. To be. It hurts to be.

May I speak freely?

Every day my mind erodes a little bit more. Every day I don't give a fuck about you. I don't give a fuck about me. I can't commit to suicide. I CAN'T COMMIT TO ANYTHING.

See you later. This space is mine. JUST TRY TO TAKE IT AWAY FROM ME.
Fuck you, I don't care if you do. Just leave me alone.

Leave me alone. Leave me be. Goddamn you. Leave me be. Leave me be. Leave me be. Please don't respond. Leave me be.

Please don't repond. This is private. Leave me be.

PsiPunk

Why the fuck can't I edit this? Anyway...

I know I'm not supposed to post personally identifiable information, but oh well. The moderators will be pissed, I'm sure.

Wow those tablets were hard. Why couldn't I chew them? No matter how many Rolaids I take there's still a burning sensation in my stomach.

Taste. Touch. Control. Deny.

What are the meanings behind these words? I will tell you.

Taste. My infatuation with food. I love it. I love tasting new things. I always smell what I eat. Complex tastes are my favorite. Those that have a lot of spices and different textures. I will try anything once. I was raised on Indian food. It will always fill me up more than anything else and make me feel whole again.

Touch. Touch is so complex. I've had so many different kinds of relationships around touch. Abusive, loving, casual, indifferent, hateful. I hate to be touched by certain people. I want to be touched all of the time. I want to be loved and cuddled. I want to fight someone. I want to be fucked and left and used and tormented and abused. I want tenderness, too. I want to touch people, too. I want to save the world and heal those who have been mistreated. I've involved myself with rape victims before. I can't imagine those things, but if you want to be near me... you can be near me. I don't bite. At least, I don't bite harmfully!!!

Control. I've been controlled my whole life. What to do. What to feel. Programmed. 1984. Think this way. Behave that way. Society's way. My father's way. Be considerate! Don't do unnecessary things! Don't talk unnecessarily! Be a good son! This is obvious! That is obvious! A manner of courtesy! Obey! Do as I say! Don't associate with this person! Don't associate with that person! CONTROL! I WANT TO BE CONTROLLED! Dominate me. Ugh it makes me feel sick.



Now I'm dissecting this piece of candy. Should I eat it? My diet says I can't. It's interesting to cut up the things you consume. See what's inside. The texture of the mouth and the composition of the thing are surprisingly so dissimilar. You wouldn't think it tastes good. The things that taste especially good are especially confusing to the eyes.

I keep a razor blade just in case.

Time to burn my fucking arm. The left side must match the right. Nobody will know, anyway. It's all the same. Goodbye.

PsiPunk

I'm feeling the backlash of my actions today. I feel fucking sick and tired. My stomach won't stop hurting. Eating didn't help.

My body aches. I'm constantly tired, but I don't want to fall asleep. My neck hurts. I'm supposed to get up early tomorrow. That's going to be a battle.

I feel like a lame dog ready to be put down. I feel fat because I havn't done shit today and I couldn't go to the gym yesterday because its closed. And its closed again today because of christmas. I need to go to the gym tomorrow badly. I need to do SOMETHING.

Everything hurts. If I could cry I would. I'm incapable of crying. I havn't cried in years. People say its therapeutic to cry. I couldn't force myself if I wanted. I feel too raw when I cry, so I swore never to do it. And I havn't. And I won't.

I want to sleep and die and wake up and die again and sleep. Over and over and over again.

I'm listening to the Pixies. My eyes want to close. blech

PsiPunk

Time.

Time is slowly passing along its unstoppable tangent.

My face melts away.

Time degenerates the flesh keeping me held together; skeleton remains.

Sloughing off, my skin hangs loosely in place drawing closer to the floor as it swings tiredly downward and away from my body.

Liquid, quiet... The man I was is still inside.

My goal is to reach enlightenment. Today, tonight. Whisper in my ear, please. Make me feel alright.

The mind projects its brilliant rays into the sky to lighten up this dark night. Searching, searching for stars without using my eyes. The dawn awaits my wavering light.

I can't keep my thoughts together. There's more here than I can write. This should be my greatest moment, but I can't seem to get it right.

The answers are buried somewhere here. Burned in my mind; I reflect my own beams of light off a skyline that emanates from inside; inside my mind's eye.

Please turn off the light... god, its so bright.

PsiPunk

I didn't want to wake up today. I'm hoping the whole world crashes down infront of me so that I can run away from it.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!!! I havn't been like this in a few years. I mean, its come and gone... sometimes creeps up for a week or so... but I usually bounce back. Just 2 weeks ago I was trying to go out and have fun with people. Now those people are wondering why I don't like them anymore.

Its not that I don't like people. I just... can't... sometimes. Can't anything. Can't sleep, can't wake up, can't eat, can't cry, can't move, can't do the things I need to do... this always happens and it fucks me over.

Last night I had a dream about being in love again and having someone with me in bed. I woke up in the morning and she didn't want me to leave. But, I told her I had to go and work. I wanted to work for a reason: I wanted to provide for her. She begged me not to go... she wanted me to stay there with her forever, as if she had been waiting for me her whole life and didn't want to wait any longer. And I had waited for her, too. It was very romantic and meloncholy.

But, I wanted to leave. I wanted a reason to put myself out there and do difficult things. I NEED a reason to live besides myself. Living for me just isn't good enough.

Living for myself has NEVER been good enough. That's why I help people I don't even know. That's why I'm generous, even if its not good for me. Even if I can't afford it. Just to KNOW that I'm living for the benefit of someone else and providing even just a little bit of happiness to someone else gives me purpose. Without that motivation, I have no reason to continue on.

I've sometimes thought that maybe if I had a child it would change my life and cure my depression. I don't know how I feel about children, though. They don't scare me... but, seeing them doesn't fill me with any longing, either. Its almost as if I'm indifferent to them. I like them if they're well behaved... I'm usually pretty good with them. Children tell me things and always want to be near me when ever I'm around them. It's very strange. Maybe they sense my sadness and lonliness. But, I certainly can't have a child right now.

Number one, you need a woman for that, which I lack.

Number two, I don't believe in cheating or infidelity so I would need a woman who will stay with me, because that's part of providing a healthy example for a child. That's probably the greatest hurdle to the whole thing: finding someone who will stay with me and love me. I don't believe in adoption, which is a problem for me. I can see the humanitarian reasons and social need behind it, but right now, at this stage in my life, I can't accept raising a child that has no part of me in it. I'm not sure I would feel an adequate enough connection. Perhaps if I get older and more desperate my idea may change, but right now I'm pretty firm on it.

Number three, I need a healthy atmosphere for a child... not necessarily just a place, but also a home life that isn't full of fighting and negativity. I want the child to be able to learn with freedom and enjoy the fruits of childhood discovery without being hampered by a bunch of tense adults. Sure, kids feel pain and kids experience bad things, but those bad things should stem from a natural occurance in their lives rather than someone forcing those bad things upon them.

Sometimes I just feel that a child in my life would give me a reason to provide and fill my life with a purpose again. Who knows, though. Maybe those are just desperate thoughts of a slowly dieing man.

PsiPunk

I love my friend. The cool metal... the soft clicking sound that he makes. He never complains, never tries to hurt me. My buddy, my soulmate. How I will cherish you for all my days...

You will always keep me company, won't you? The only real friend I have that doesn't care how much I talk or how I feel. He "smiles in the light, my friend." I like to take him apart and put him back together. He likes it, though. He doesn't mind that I adore him so. He doesn't mind revealing his true nature, because he's honest. He cares. Come, take a look inside. See how I work? See how I flourish in your eyes?

Oh, he will never hurt me. No no. He will keep me company through these long, lonely nights. Nights accompanied by low light; curling cigarette smoke in the crisp, damp air; the shadowy apparitions living there. Thank you, my friend, for being here...


I want to go to the sea tonight. Hear the waves crashing... the luminescence off the water. So deep, dark and endless; so beautiful it fills me with fear. I don't care for the sand... only the sounds of night in my ear.

PsiPunk

Yesterday things took a turn for the worst. My mind broke. I lost my composure. Screaming out for help; its the most pathetic thing to do.

My mind is reeling.

I don't understand myself. I want to look good. I want to lose weight and be that "attractive guy". I go to the gym. I'm trying to work hard to break... everything. Myself.

So I cut and cut and cut again. This is putting a damper on my mood. Now I have to cover the evidence. Like a criminal in my own world. Concealing from who, though? People that don't even know me. Those judgemental eyes constantly following me...

The words to a song are meaningful to me in ways I can't describe. And it came from such an unlikely place.

"Day and night,
The lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night.
He's all alone through the day and night,
The lonely loner seems to free his mind at night.

Day and night,
The lonely stoner seems to free his mind at night.
He's all alone some things will never change.
The lonely loner seems to free his mind at night."

I grab onto my stomach, trying to rip it off. The muscle is hard underneath there. Why won't it come out?! Why can't I be fucking hot like everyone else? Why do I have to be so stupid and weak and mediocre and pathetic and... fucking die.

I will keep going, I guess. Just like a machine. The same thing. Every. Day. Always. The. Same. No surprises. No interaction. No outside. No female. No hurt. No emotion. No more.

I just need strength.

These days... I can hardly wake up. I smell like blood. It feels like its all over me. My hands... I wash them all the time. The smell won't go away. Metal blood. In the morning I taste it on my tongue.. I taste it in my mouth like its coming out of me. I don't like it, but I want it. I want more. More blood. I want to bleed. What the fuck is wrong with me? I'm some kind of beast, making my home at night.


So tired. My mind is reeling from the things I do.

PsiPunk

My goal for the next couple of weeks will be to focus on the negative thoughts arising from my depression and, hopefully, erase them from my mind one-by-one.

Today I am focusing on my feelings of lonliness and desires for companionship.

I've received different types of advice from various people on this topic... and I've tried to find solutions myself. However, one piece of advice has stuck out the most so far.

Don't try. Let the world decide. Don't go out looking and searching for companionship. Simply let it be. If its going to happen, it will happen.

Someone may come into my life at random. Someone may not come at all. I have to accept that I must find a way to function without constantly being worried about having a girlfriend or feeling lonely because I don't have companionship. Functioning without that will be a necessity if I plan to fully recover.

Just today I came to the realization this advice is true. I cannot have desperation as a mindset. This is not an endearing quality in a person. Instead, I should be carefree. Pursue my own interests and try to enrichen my life without someone else being there. I've thought about taking up a new hobby besides writing. I'd really like to start playing the drums or maybe painting. I need to fill my life with beautiful things that will occupy my mind and worry less about how many people are in my life.

How will I erase these thoughts and desires that seem to drive me to the point of depressive insanity? Well... I've done this before. A long time ago. I will use my mind to simply STOP them. Stop thinking about it period. Meditate for a little while upon clearing my head, find the source of those thoughts and basically purge them from my brain. Like they never existed in the first place.

I began doing this earlier and realized its not going to happen in one day. I will have to focus on eliminating these thoughts over a period of maybe several days, but I think that eventually I can break them down and let them go. Today I meditated somewhat heavily upon accomplishing this task and found a few moments of clarity.

In those moments of clarity I felt different. More free. I felt like I could truly put my attentions elsewhere. Like my mind was expanding and changing. I started to feel like I could do things again.

I realized I was alone. I stared at myself in the mirror and saw myself looking back. I looked into my own eyes. But, myself being alone didn't matter. I realized my own existance as a person in the world and that it didn't matter if anyone was standing beside me.

This will take more work, because these negative feelings are very strong. But everyday I'm going to commit to meditating and erasing these feelings until I no longer have them.

As a result of today's excercise, I went to the gym as I was planning on doing. There are usually a lot of beautiful women there and while I'm working out I often glance at someone and think to myself, "My gosh! How lovely she looks. I wish I could be with that person!"

Today, however, I simply saw them. Not as women, but as people. Not as a romance. My heart no longer jumps in my chest. This, I believe, will be the peace that I am seeking.

PsiPunk

In the background, a newscaster is heard broadcasting over crackling airwaves. Like the old days when black and white television hadn't even been invented and photographs, written letters and telegrams were the way to communicate long distances, I am taken back to this time period. I am listening to this radio. The newcaster begins reading from a typed script, as if announcing the next world war:

"This just in! Giant squid captured off the coast of Seattle! Fisherman reels it in with massive chain! More at 11!"

The raido goes silent.

Hours later, this happens:

"This just in! News of a man hell-bent on the destruction of the world pleas guilty to crimes of insanity! The infamous Dr. Rude confesses infront of the president! More at 11!"

The radio goes silent.

Two hours later. It is 11pm. The radio turns on.

"......."

Audio crackling can be heard in the background as a distant voice breathes heavily into the microphone. For 3 mintues and 21 seconds there is only breathing that seperates the sound from the ear.

3:22: A gutteral moaning begins the likes of which are akined to a small diesel engine idling on a cold morning in December. Its demonic in nature, but no words are distinguishable and its unclear to me whether this voice is in anguish, disgust, fatigue or sexual gratification.


4:37: The gutteral moaning increases volumentrically into the stratosphere, blossoming into a blood-red nova cloud of tormented screaming. My eyes turn black as something invades my mind and I begin an internal struggle to repel this unknown force.

5:48: Aural garbage begins spewing from the speakers, chopping and vibrating through the air. The sound of a thousand locusts consumes the airwaves; sharp metallic slicing sounds of rotary blades and spinning drillbits assaults the ears to a pitch that makes it difficult to think. The attack upon my psyche is increased tenfold and I hold my head as if bearing a great weight. I feel my mind cracking and crumbling under this oppressive sound.

The world is drowned out in noise. Colors become absent; food becomes tasteless; actions become lethargic; the rotation of the earth seems to slow to a standstill; twilight never ends.

In an endless flow of ritualistic self-depreciation and misplaced, fruitless longing, I have stopped with the world. I've stopped listening to mankind and, now, I listen to this noise.

This is the noise of being depressed. It is a consuming beast that enthralls the mind, planting seeds of pointless misfortune and misunderstood anguish. These seeds grow into branches along the mind and they bear bittersweet fruit that eventually become the fuel for misery.

It is cyclical, just as the seasons.
It travels in packs, just as the beasts.
It moves in waves, just as a torrent of rain.

Well, I've begun weeding my garden.

I feel better.

PsiPunk

This entry won't be as... dramatic as the others, but I thought I would revisit some of the past issues surrounding this piece of trash I call a journal.

CONTROL.

So. I have been controlled my whole life by my father. He has always been the one with the financial control, domestic control and mental control over my family. The worst part is that I've frequently looked to him for guidance and he loves to be the one who says, "I told you so." He constantly reminds me of my failings in life and my inability to follow his direction.

Anyway, this has eventually led to the erosion of my confidence as a man and as an individual. My self-esteem has been ruined and I use my demand for independence as a guiding force in the decisions I make, good or bad. Sometimes I act irrationally out of haste and make decisions I should have probably taken more time to consider simply "because I can." I also second-guess myself and have a worrisome or guilty conscience about the decisions I have already made. Additionally, I experience a state of confusion so great that I am unable to make a determination at all. It affects me so powerfully that I procrastinate to the point of ruination. To top it all off, I suffer from bouts of lack of motivation to accomplish ANYTHING even the most simplest of tasks.

For a while I had overcome this problem. But, that didn't last. This is why I am here on TTL.

Today, while I was at the gym, I began my normal routine as usual. It was around 6pm when the last class being held in the aerobic room was finished. In the aerobic room is a set of punching bags that you typically can't access while a class is in attendence. I am passionate about the punching bag and have used it over the years quite frequently to take out aggression, build muscle, improve endurance, refine my combat skill, etc. etc. Anyway, immediately I jumped at the oppertunity to use it, as I always do. I'm fortunate today that I did.

I began my warmup and started on the bag. However, after about 20 mintues, I started to realize that a few people were beginning to wander into the room. At first I didn't pay any mind, because I had checked the schedule for the aerobic room and no classes were scheduled for the rest of the day. What happened next was most fortunate.

A man approached me as I was performing some kicking excercises on the bag and mentioned, "If you really want to perform that crescent kick properly, you need to use more of your hip. Like this." He demonstrated in a quite splendid, but casual, manner. His form and power was accomplished and he had a slight spring to his step suggesting he had a greater control of his balance than I.

I was a little bit surprised, at first, but at that moment I realized I was looking at a person with some training. It turns out he was a master and his group of students were the people I noticed gathering in the room. They were preparing to participate in a lesson.

It is polite in these matters not to interrupt a master in teaching, thus I halted my routine on the punching bag until the lesson was complete. I stayed through the entirety of this "unofficial" class that was being held and was anxious to approach him afterward.

After he had properly sent off his students, we spoke briefly about my past experience with karate. I inquired if he was accepting more students and he said that I was welcome to join.

I plan to build my confidence again and I believe this oppertunity is something I cannot pass up. It is a chance for me to do something that I used to love and lamented having lost. Martial arts had taught me confidence, control, order, obedience, patience and ethic. It will be good again to feel those things.