(no subject)
I probably need electro-shock therapy... Not for the constant hallucinations and the paranoid belief in an infestation of cybernetic insekts currently scurrying underneath my skin and their insidious plots to destroy the world via my amazing combat skills. Not even for the howling fits I have when confronted with bright colours... Nor for the voices that command me to disembowel strangers as I meander through the London Underground... No - I need something to curb my procrastination; it's become a severe handicap. Well it always was but seriously; I can't do anything, least of all update. I might as well begin to rot away; some days I actually acquire fine layers of dust simply from being immobile for great periods of time. I feel as though I might actually grow into this room, for where does the room begin and I end? I don't know; my sense of proprioception is skewed and distorted beyond all the limits of sanity. I am the room and where I am within its walls its perturbed. In my delirium everything has become permeable and translucent.
I think I'll start to drill holes into myself simply for the stimulation as I expect I'd garner a perverse gratification from the mutilation that ensues; my mind is somewhat chaotic... Too many voices - no focus - when you pull something in so many directions it ceases to move at all, stabilising in equilibrium to all forces. So I feel rather trapped in a frame of discord where I can't actually manage to do much of anything despite my will and desire to do so... If only to focus on one point... Even if it is searing pain.
Watching the meatdrones commute is somewhat caustic. I feel immersed in white noise and irreverence every time I've been in contact with 'humans' it is as close to invisible as you can get, what exactly are all these thousands of people doing? I feel stuck onboard a Borg cube every time I'm among them and not in a good way either. Emotionless, rigid, thoughtless drones; endlessly flowing from all directions, under my feet, in the way, condensed and homogenised... Every time it's a philosophical lesson in anthropology - I go mad with the insektoid buzzing such swarms emit, the rank odour, the horrifying expressions. It is no wonder I choose to shut myself away, barricading myself in so that the zombie hordes may never ingest my thinkmeats...
The heat, it's only May! Thankfully it cooled off a bit else I'd have been fiercely irritated. I'm aware that some 'enjoy' the extra radiation but to me it is of profound abhorrence anytime the temperature creeps into the mid to high 20's (mid to high 70's for you Fahrenheit freaks). This is supposed to be England after all whatever happened to our reputation of it raining an awful lot? I'd move up north only it'll be to Seattle instead which is almost the same thing, only better...
Such a warped sense of reality I've developed, in truth this works out perfectly as I need the trance like delirium to completely devour me until I am one with the entities beyond. Then I am completely free to create outside of interference and boundaries... Though I know that I am to travel as close to true insanity as one may dare before stepping back so I have to plan and develop a parallel project of more simplicity to ground my pretensions and prevent my brain from burning out. I am sure to be incarcerated into an asylum one of these days. Thankfully I don't 'live' the disturbing visions that seem to flow from my mind like some river of vomit, cascading freely out of the maw of some giant leviathan grumbling with discontent after consuming all humankind. Taking anything too seriously is real madness... Anyone caught doing so ought to have immediate corrective therapy, which should involve a large bludgeoning bat and a small stack of waffles.
What alarms me most in the underworld of metropolitan transport is the obvious inclinations of so many that they take all of it far too seriously... You can see it in their glazed over eyes... They really think that this is reality? Heh, and you dare to call me crazy?