depressio

Where do i start?
First of all…my condolences go with Robin Williams friends and family.
depression is like any other mental condition what with its invisibility and various levels ranging from sadness to manic depression or bi-polar etc.
My mum has manic depression and tried to kill herself several times including during my gestation and beyond. My estranged dad has some kind of severe depression aswell…apparently he’s locked up in a psychiatric ward or similar at the moment.
Plenty of my friends have internal struggles of varying degrees; and some of them have turned to drugs (including myself) for self medication.
Notice that they had problems beforehand.
Drugs didn’t cause the problems but sometimes they exacerbate them.
Some found solace in alcohol, some in weed and some in various powders. And some tried all three.
A 50 year study is finding that most ‘schizos’ didn’t have mental problems until they started smoking tobacco (that and alcohol are the two worst ‘gateway’ drugs around).
People say I should quit weed as if it’s a problem but I’ve been down since I was 8 or 10 years old. That’s long before I started smoking.
“I’ve been down so very damn long…that it looks like up to me.”
That’s a great lyric by Jim Morrison who died due to depression and hard drugs at the young age of 27.
What causes depression?
I only know what makes me depressed and it makes me depressed all the more.
Stupid First World Problems.
Why can’t I cheer up?
“God knows as your dog knows…life is killing you” that one’s by B Sabbath.
As I was growing up, listening to my mums problems, I could understand her already; I even understood Sabbath and Floyd and others as if I had been there. They became my councillors, letting my young self know that my family wasn’t alone with its problems.
My friends don’t always understand me but thankfully they always listen.
I’m very grateful for my friends.
“One hand washes the other” is a saying I grew up with.
My depression is a lowly one. Unlike bi-polar I never seem to get the highs.
I never seem to have energy unless there’s a long walk or bike ride. They’re conducive to introspection.
Fukk the washing up. Have you read my Bitching Kitchen Blues? I would rather do anything than wash dishes. It keeps me awake at night.
A friend said that if I spend half hour doing the dishes then I will sleep easier. I know he’s right but somehow I can’t bring myself to until I run out of dishes. Even then it’s a punishment.
Maybe it’s because washing up was a punishment as a child. Who cares? I pretend not to.
I’ve become very apathetic lately…and lethargic. Fukk everything that isn’t important. Fukk the dishes, the bills, the hollow friends, the bike rides and books.
Fukk God aswell…this is all his past-time, his sport, his rasa-lila.
Fukk dharma and fuck kharma too. Right up it’s automatic inspection hole. ;)
I’m not being serious but neither am i joking.
I can never understand suicide though. My luck is that I would be reborn as a creature or human with Real problems :)
Who knows why we are born or what is instore for us?
There is a plan for each of us and perhaps I will find my purpose in another 50 years or so :) I can wait patiently with an occasional moan or gripe :)
Anyway I gotta go because a friend with Real problems has arrived. Perhaps this is my purpose.
GLB

(new) I opened mine eyes

I opened My eyes
and saw that there was life
where before was only a thought
within My mind.
Temptation took over
My parts and parcels
of this flame imperishable.
How could I say no?
Instead to you I say “Go”.
Experience so that you may know
after all is said and done…
I Am The One.
Freewill is yours and Mine
As you are Me to a lesser degree.
and this is why you find in your ‘mind’
some sublime signs.
Evolution of the soul.
As I watch you die I watch you grow.
Look within My books for clues on what to do
about how to find My path and never-again lose
sight of My might.
For I am right.
There is no wrong.
No devil song.
I alone Am.

(new) a symphony of sympathy or Of G&D (warming up)

poems flit by on the breeze of the season
and could cause you to cry if you would listen to reason.

I am the shadow and I am the sun
I am ev-ery one
ev-ery thing
My song you do sing.
with fear I keep you near
but your fear is unfounded
only your body is grounded.

.Quality Controlled.
see Me within the sinner.
and yet again within the saint;
for We are all of the same Flame.

the deal sealed with a kiss;
ignorance is bliss…
once bitten forever smitten.
necessity is the mother of intention…
trial by fire.

Well done My son; I can see you’ve had fun.
Test them. See if they remember Me.
“yes my Lord.”
And if they are worthy.
“of course my Lord.”
You are My dischord ,
I would that they were in remembrance;
Set them some tests and see who thrives…who rests.
“as ever; You know best…but they shall not rest from my tests
and neither will they be bored oh my Lord.”
By My causeless mercy shall all that they own be stripped away.
That they may see Me all the clearer.
Enamoured as they are by the illusion of life.
“my Lord they shall love You as they fear me.
they shall search the stars for You in the yonder.
they shall ponder long on Your song that is Life.
i shall set them strife. beget their wife with blight.
hear their hymns in the churchlight.”
Let it be.
They shall remember me.

of G and the D

i’ve got several themes in mind.
which isn’t normal, i usually just write and the theme explains itself to me.
maybe i’m setting myself up for a fool
the best way to gain a writers block is to tell myself how or what to write. to plan.
i love writing from different perspectives, whether spiritual, carnal, animal, funny or scary.
for a few years i wrote a lot from ‘the God perspective’ but i didn’t wanna be typecast so i wrote from a pagan point of view or a historical one or a sexual one.
then i got back into what i call shock rock or ‘psychobilly’ which is kinda like the Shadows on acid. and i realised the B-movie is alive n well in cd format. so i started writing from ‘the Devil perspective’.
so far so good.
but now i notice the pattern of my themes and it inspires me to write hopefully the best rhyme ever…concerning a chat between God n his tireless worker Lucifer.
with such high hopes there is a fear of failure.
For fear of failure
the poet he wrote
his song in the sand
to be washed away
when the sea greets the land

maybe i should call the poem between G and the D ‘Well Done My Son.”

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