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Lost@plushy That has a multi faceted answer. Though the long and short of it is that I've, in one way or another, embraced the darkness. Just not...- Xinyta
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I'm Not An Artist.Do not feed into the lies of the mind. No one and nothing can stop you from trying, other than yourself. I draw on occasion. You'll see my profile...
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LostIt's difficult when you're caught between wanting to improve - which means self analysis, and wanting to let go - which means no analysing of...- blue_bird
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I feel my mindset is now on a far better path, than it was. Things do not stress me like they use to. The fears, delusions, hallucinations, and paranoia are about fully gone.
Though I think what helped spur this extra push on my journey, is the fact that I put an extra effort into limiting...
I feel like i am just deluding myself that i am a worthy person whatever. If my mom did know my dad was aspergers she probably would not even marry him. She prob. Did it out of pity anyway. I should not have existed. Maybe even my faith is just bc i am scared of going to hell if i commit...
Had my first meeting at the circle to begin training as a medium. Friends have joked that it sounded like a cult. The reality is it's a medium leading a group of spiritual people on a path to develop their abilities in a safe and practical way.
The people I met were lovely. It was fascinating...
This one's number fifty,
I've reach half century.
Mouthing off right shifty,
No plenipotentiary.
But worry not ye readers,
I won't be stopping here.
There's plenty more to rant of,
You need have no fear.
I wonder if I'll reach,
One hundred 'fore I snuff it.
I'll need new subject matter,
To...
I have thought I can be rational, and I find I can be alot. But maybe late nights don't help. I feel a sense of wanting to be agressive or passive agressive in posts when I feel like my posts are being ripped apart.
Though the reality is that perception is a lie. No one is really doing that...
I sit here, overlooking the shore
Looking for a signal of acknowledgement
For something out there to bring me more
Than my current state , my predicament
Tired of feeling left out and left behind
My hopes turn to the sea in front me
For some aid to escape from this land, confined
A rescuer to...
The host with the most,
Holds a feast with the least.
Just to show the poorest,
They're a greedy little beast.
It seems that now it is,
The state of play today.
To flaunt excess of wealth,
Low ethics on display.
And it is only us,
Enable such behaviour.
Accepting this as normal,
No critique or...
I am obsessed with what I am doing wrong and that I am a endless failure, when I surcome to my delusions and general negativity. Doubts set in. I start wanting to sit and ruminate on everything I am doing wrong. Even mistakes, or not paying attention will just be added on.
I beat on myself so...
So this it.
I am what I am.
I'm not exactly what I hoped to be.
I was hoping to be free.
Free to have choices.
Free to have chances,
At being somewhat content.
But, I guess not all men are born free.
Not all men are deemed Worthy.
ExhaustEd.
Really craved McDonald's this morning. But that's just about the worst way to start the day.
So I got some eggu's and used up what was in the fridge to make something infinitely healthier.
Ed
Another entry for my blog,
Something from the captain's log.
Describing a day in the life of me,
It may not be your cup of tea.
I guess I begin at the start of the day,
Going to sleep, 'hitting the hay'.
That's around two or three in the morning,
Long after the time I've started yawning.
Crawl...
I'd always wondered about stimming. Something I've not been aware of doing, and yet the descriptions had some sort of frisson for me, but I never got my head around why that would be. I've felt desire to fiddle with fingers or objects, but as soon as, that seems to be internally suppressed...
Late diagnosis like a huge exhale,
The realisation you weren't a fail.
A rush, a hit, a powerful drug.
Knowing you're not just a useless lug.
First that initial trepidation,
Even denial and obfuscation.
"That's not me, I'm not autistic.
I can't believe that that's realistic."
It's only on...
Looking back at what I've written,
It sounds to me like I was smitten.
With self denial and total disgust,
It seems it's only myself I distrust.
Most of these rhymes just sound like excuses,
To justify my continued abuses.
There! I've just done it, once again,
Repeating a boring and trite...
Oh goodness I'm onto page three.
This blog's a mistake I now see.
Should I just keep writing,
Endlessly fighting,
To produce a sweet repartee?
--==oOo==--
Disconcerting rhymes are my forte,
Writing another is like a sortie.
Except they ain't planned with precision,
Rather writ bad and read...
Oh my gosh it's getting bad,
What am I going to do?
My inspirations fading,
It's left me in a stew.
It's my own damn fault y'know,
For ranting far too much.
Using all my topics up,
Drifting out of touch.
The answer's finding more to learn,
And process then spew back.
I need some motivation,
A...
I'm doing this far too much,
Could it be it's become a crutch?
Pumping out bile,
With nary a smile,
And totally out of touch.
I just chart death and disaster,
Unpleasantness writ ever faster.
Disturbing verses,
Eliciting curses,
And patched with sticking plaster.
Maybe putting myself down...
I knew of a few people who treat intelligence above any other character trait. My dad was raised in such a family, he was called a retard and that he would not be able to get good marks on the university exams. He still speaks so proudly that he got first place and how that "showed his dad" But...