Personal Reflection: Why did I start this thing? What motivates me?
[I've never read any of the Invisibles. Or sandman. I just appear to be in that vein.]
Diatribe 1:
"some of the things i do can be dangerous. generally i don't sit around playing playstation - at times i have been tempted, of course, but it never happens. i never move in that direction. when i take into consideration my improvised ritual workings - the spaceship, for example, my drift - and those borrowed workings - the three liquids being the most powerful, back in 2004, round about the same time i was working through Liber ABA without much of an idea of what i was doing - it becomes important to provide the right context for the expression of these things. some of the experiences i've had are enough to make a grown man go crazy.
this isn't a fashion statement. these things i do aren't clothes. there is a fine line between the ridiculous and the inspired, and i believe that line is integrity.
even though i spent some time in an institution, the simple fact of the matter is that no one could decide upon a diagnosis. a few things were thrown around - expressly to "get [me] out of trouble", as i was there solely on a criminal charge, a section 14 - and eventually the good doctors ended up with egg on their faces, poor sods, terribly embarassed, when all charges were dropped (amid missing paper work yadda yadda) and subsequently they had no right to detain me. The police, however, were adament that they would arrest me simply for existing were i to leave. catch 22.
intelligence, as i define it, is the capacity to form connections when there may not be any apparent connections. this is similar to madness, except that madness is a reaction rather than an action, and a brief look at our history will show that intelligence and madness are often treated in the same way. with fear and ridicule.
While in the institution, Schizophrenia and Paranoia were never mentioned. Their best bet was Hypomania, an ecstatic state. The terms of my release were that I was to be supervised for a year by a doctor and a social worker. The social worker, after two months - maybe less - told me that he didn't have much time for me since he had "real patients". he stopped even calling after 5 months. I saw the doctor once.
I'm not saying I was in a fit state of mind - things got a little out of control. I was arrested for a fire arms charge after all.
i once overdosed on ketamine after a long train ride. this is particularly odd, since i hadn't taken any ketamine. i very almost died. while i was prone in a hospital bed, the good doctors told my mother I most likely would never be able to form a coherent sentence ever again. but, guess what - i keep coming back.
nothing in all my life has made me happier than persuing my passion for words, and writing, and generating engaging ways of re-invisioning the world. that's what i'm doing now, but it can take great chunks from me each time i pick up a pen. the territories i explore, the interests - dream, paranoia, the hidden, parallels, multiples, augmented realities, these things take their toll on me. The creative high is matched only by the sometimes grim aftermath of realising that i've spent the last four weeks isolated and alone. At times like these I'm tempted to do stupid things like jump into bed with anyone (tell my deepest darkest secrets to anyone) - but, those were the old days. I have pretty high standards now (whether I deserve them or not is another matter), and I find that ignoring my basic instincts only heightens my awareness anyhow.
I'm loyal to a fault. I've had one relationship in the last five years, and it was one that i only enjoyed for about three weeks out of each year. Cut out entertainment, drunkenness and sex - you may lose your mind.
connection is hard work. it is so much easier to remain detached. choosing to inhabit this world can be like choosing to hang over the edge of a cliff, suspended only by your valuables.
ah, yes, and i'm still waiting for those "plain clothes" policemen to revisit me. "we have no record of a visit" the station said "you're not wanted for anything. you'll just have to wait for them to come back". sometime.
some people don't like me."
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