Friday, March 29, 2019

Episode 271 ~Self-Harm, Write A Will~

Hey Lady Sophia,
How To Make One Million Dollars, they’ve already created Band-Aids, Beer. Somebody racked their Brain mass for Twitter. Only for Trump to use it the way he does. No Lady Sophia I’m not about to get political, what good would it do?

First off I’m not that STUPID. Wait am I, leaving my bag at the Day Job unattended for a few minutes. Of course, my mind has written the worst case scenario, a million times over. Still, the only person reading it is me. My left wrist, all day, I pinched, I snapped, I stung. I am reminding myself not to be STUPID. While I only became even more so. Tell me this what’s the correlation if any between depression and RAGE. Is it part of being Bipolar. It’s one more reason I write. The general manager said I say that the whole world is against me. So I create a world full of people in stories. All so I can do the most horrible things. I can kill them one after the other ending up Alone Again, naturally, The End.

Only it never is, is it, I don’t edit. Grammarly and Hemingway, are seas of color. Looking over my recent blogs, I don’t recognize myself anymore. Lady Sophia, at the same damn time I do. Allow me to dive into my fandoms once again. I might as well be a head on a stick in TWD. I need a golden pair of scissors and a red jumpsuit like in Jordan Peele’s “US.” So I can cut up this crap. Is that why I’m hurting myself? It’s only a rubber band, but I can’t stay awake. My eyes are a bloodshot red SNAP. Look up, POP, lift your feet PINCH. On and on but the RAGE Lady Sophia. So much, all at me, the man my “father” made me in existence. I’m STUPID no matter what.

My words might as well be, a sea of white in the shower though I’m abstaining now. Hasn’t even been a week yet, like those times I went without eating. I’m making room for more pain that I deserve. I ask myself WHY; I’m not suicidal or more like I’m lazy about the fact. Which again makes me STUPID. That’s my new word Lady Sophia, an oldie but a goodie. I suppose “skeevy” well who knows I may have lost one more friend today. Math is one of those things that did the most harm to me. My writing is the only way I can harm others. Torture for us all, but numbers? I know how many friends I lose, money, time, how many words for a new NaNoWriMo shirt. And this is how I hurt myself every day my great Self-Harm, Write A Will.

I Will Have No Fear