Be in my head in this difficult instant. Be in my head with me. Let's start from the beginning. I'll try to be coherent, consistent, straight-minded.I'm in a manic phase of cyclothymia. You know, just enough to be too much. Just so that my fingers can't actually run on the keyboard. Or mayb you don't know what it's like. That's what I'm trying to explain in this post.Breathe in,Breathe out.It is like my mind is a train without a conductor. It's like my brain goes faster than my fingers and so my fingers say: no, we're not going to do that. That's beyond limits.It is the fifth time I take the calming pill box in my hands and drop it. I can't seem to ccordinate my fingers. It's not that I can't succeed. I get distracted. My shoulders hurt because they are so very tensed. I have a hard time writing without making tons of spelling mistakes. I can't write and read what I write at the same time. Actually, I can barely read. I gotta focus. One task at a time. Now my task is to make you visit my brain during an hypomanic episode of cyclothymia.I'm not under panic. I'm unable to focus. I'd like to smoke a cigarette. My shoulders hurt. I'd like a massage and physical contact. I'm restless. I'd like to go swimming just now, or spend some time in the sauna. I need effortless effort to strain me a bit because I can't do precision movements. I haven't gone outside today. I'm nervous about being sick, I feel like it's harder to love me because of this slight handicap. I'm afraid it'll frighten people I love. I feel like crying. My brain won't shut tonight probably, but I won't be able to output anything profitable, desirable, going towards my goal. I'd like to paint with a lot of dark colours, I'd like to draw with coal, I'd like to learn to play tuba.Breathe in,Breathe out.Maybe if I put some music on... Hallelujah! I dream of honey bees. I dream of mounting horses, yeah put the music on. Swallow the pill too. Not a whole. 1/3 is enough, clonazepam so-many-mg, I don't know. The sticker wore off. I'll google it. The music yeah. Hallelujah! Check if Myriam is online. She is. Start talking to her. Google the medication dosage, can't find it. Nothing on the sticker, it's all wore off. I haven't taken much of it in 3 years - 10 pills altogether ? Victory ! Well not tonight, it isn't a victory, it isn't a loss it's just fine....All is just fine and is it the first time that I write automatically in English yeah I think so yeahBreathe... or not to breathe... google the dosage 0,5mg, and I take roughly 1/3 of it but it's hard because it's easier in 1/2 and 1/4. I know Marie will read this blog post she'll smile. I'm a reasonable human being and I do not wis to suffer. I do not wish to make people around me suffer either. I think if I would have a physical job during the day, I could still go to it, but any other job to my intellectual capacities ? Tonight ? I would fade away. It's not a running away, but there's too much data and I must breath and all..Creative, creative work. This book writing thing is good but systematic. Under hypomania, there are outbursts of creativity. actually maybe I'm in mania because hypomaia I should not be so scattered. I wonder why never got the effects of buying lots of thngs while on a high and if I shouldn't drink that maple-whisey bottle. no just joking I know I won't because you know what, I know over 5 0 ways to kill myself. And because I've done them several times in my head in the past, I'm the most powerful person on myself - I won't use any. And since I'm apparently most likely to die of suicide than any other disease, imagine how old I'll live to be. I'm almost immortal.I don't know why Im crying. Gimme 5 minutes.I forgot to put the music on. Hallelujah!!! by Arianne Moffat. Gift from Evie. I'm there, at her place, on the couch, in my room as she calls it. I wanna be in my room soon. But I won't want to sleep there unless I would wake him up with my nocturnal crises. But I really don't have that many. Stop pouring you funky tears! I'm not unhappy! I'm happy I got dumped last Christmas and all those incredibly heavy tears got shed in the Kitchen Casa while he looked nowhere. He sure was special.Wait, I'm starting the music. My shoulders hurt. It's almost started. It's on Quicktime so it's a bit strange. it's underway, but you don't really care for music, do yo ?Now I feel better. I'm much better than when I was 16 - I never hurt myself anymore. I don't get panicked so much, even when maybe I should. You know when I really panicked? It was a year ago. I was in Istanbul. Can you believe a year ago I was off to shave my head in Turkey?Can you believe I wasn't meant to cut it? It was just so that he'd come back. It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah...50 feet above ground, I climbed on the cliff and pushed with my feet and got into the hole. The sarcophagi hole. It was so small, I couldn't rest in it. There were three of them. I was listining to Tori Amos - China, all the way to New York, maybe you got lost in Mexico...I counted to a hundred in Turkish, bir iki uç dört beş... then in german ein zwei drei vier funf then in I don't remember. When I opened my eyes, it was raining and I had no wood for a fire tonight. I got down. I fell down. Ironic ironic Tori feeding my hears.Look I'm standing naked before youDon't you want more than my sexI can scream as loud as your last oneBut I can't claim innocenceOh god could it be the weatherAhhh plein de souvenirs c'est quand même bon de tout canaliser... no, you're writing in English tonight. Breathe in, out, in out slowllllllly.So she brought moist wood into the chapel, a bit higher up the clift. Frescoes, and greek graffitis from the 1800's. and a shrine. I put my Buddha on the shrine. I put my sleeping bag on the uneven ground. I'm not that far from the village, I can hear the muezzin...Oh god why am I here If love isn't forever And its not the weather Hand me my leatherAnd that's the moment when I text Ulf telling him madness isn't that bad after all. That I'm on the edge of life, 50 m over ground, on that big rock and I'm going to sleep in a chapel and that I love another asshole than him. And he wants to help me, because that's the best thing he can always do. Try to help people. I'm an inspirer, he's a problem-solver, key in hand solution. I can inspire.Breathe in.It was cold but not that cold. It was long but not that long. I shouted, I cried, I pounded my fists against rocks, I cursed and I prayed, and I masturbated and I fell asleep at last for an hour.Me, and a gun, and a man on my back... Don't worry, we won't reproduce because if we do my genes will get mixed along the way, and if you'd ever meet my parents, you'd understand. I mean, maybe I could reincarnate instead. Too bad I'm not a Buddhist anymore. It was a fun set of things to try to believe in.I'll put the music again, it calms me.She broke your throne, she cut your hairAnd from your lips she drew the Hallelujah[3 minutes pass]I'm scared. I mean, this is scary right? I mean, not this little crisis or what I'm writing. I mean love. I mean yeah still. I'm still fucking scared of love.Oh stop it, I don't need salty tap water in that part of my anatomy.I should get another song. But no, no, no more Tori Amos.Ahahahah Myriam vient de me dire qu'elle avait hâte de me lire! But I haven't told her I was writing right now... I think I'm sending a lot of brainwaves. CAN YOU HEAR ME ? I'm sure you do. Little brother. COME HERE I'LL TICKLE YOU TO DEATH !My breath seems slower. I'm tired of listening to music with just one ear. Damn headphones. But can't throw them away until they're dead right ?Ok I need to change songs again. I can't put a song for each lover of this wicked 2009. This strange 2009. The power of the shaven head.The power of a bold, raw me.You better not challenge me again you fuckingsonovabitch! You and all that you represent can burn along the purification of the fire of 2009. To all the women who came to me to whine saying "He did that to me to", I say you killed me more than he did. If you can't stand in front of a man, how can you stand in front of mankind.My shoulders hurt.In a week, I'll be taking yet another leap of faith. He's almost perfect. Just 1-2 things, and, you know. I'm almost perfect too.I love you, for making me who I am, for challenging me, for making me smile and cry and cry and laugh about it all again. Both.
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