No one can tell how much effort your words take you to put down to the page. Or to say out loud. How much thought.
Or maybe people can. Maybe the perceptive can. I truly believe my mother is blind, of soul. Unempathetic. She has a big heart but no sight. If that makes sense.
She shits out things out of her mouth at me, without thinking, just takes for granted her speech, and doesn’t seek to improve it, or to use it as efficiently as possible, or anything. Words are trash to her.
So I think she’s trash.
I still haven’t done anything wrong. And the authorities are out to get me.
What a planet we live in.
It’s not even safe for me to get a 9-5 job because of this. I should tell my psychiatrist. I can’t work because it’s not safe. I’m wanted. She, narrow minded one she is, would of course chalk it up to my schizophrenia. Yes, I believe it’s real. But it’s an artistic sort of reality. If you asked me to run a mile and then say if it’s real, I might change my mind. Oxygen to the brain can do wonders. And yes, I understand this fact. Is that weird? Oh entirely. But it’s still real. Some real things are also weird.
I overate. Soy smoothie with sushi is a very bad combination.
The people I knew in college are haunting me in my dreams. In my dreams they are assholes.
What if that were taken literally. Lol.
Mom owns me so we’re going to the book store in about an hour. She said so.
It might be good for me. I’m delusional again today starting around 3 PM. This has been consistent for about two weeks now. Daily delusions around 3 PM. I wonder if I wake up sooner tomorrow if it will make any difference.
Life is not worth it.
It’s not mixing problems with depression. That’s just problems mixed with depression. It’s the patterns, the visual signals. I process it in my brain in three dimensions, and the keys, like hash keys, are corrupt. It hurts me so much.
See? You have to understand computer science just to understand my mental illness.
I bet they don’t teach computer science in most psychiatry programs.
So that’s just how like, well, fucked it is. They’re underprepared.
I feel so bad.
I don’t know why.