I'm not sleeping well. I'm going to bed when I normally do, but not sleeping for hours. Then I get up a couple hours earlier than normal too. I'm not overly tired. I've been a little cranky and irritable, but I don't know what to think about it ( Read more... )

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I haven't yet quite made it out and away ( Read more... )

I don't feel like a person handicapped by mental illness. I don't feel like a person defined by mental illness.

I feel like a mental illness.

Like there is nothing but disease in my head, and if you let the bugs out of my skull it would be filled with nothing but cobwebs.

Rufus Wainwright - Hallelujah ( Read more... )

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When you A) are crazy and B) have a drug problem, you tend to find things you don't remember writing. I like the exchange in this piece, so I'm putting it here. I might move it over to spiralpoets in a few days. I don't want to poem-whore-bomb them over there.

(No title, April 17, 2001)

Tell me little bug, why do you cry? This

tear streaked ( Read more... )

I drank Pepsi for 10 years. Then the drug cocktail I started made it taste like ash in my mouth. I now drink Coke, but only the watered down convience store fountain drink type.

I love food. The more exotic the better. I read about it all the time.
I sometimes pretend that I've experience with a type of food that I've only read about, so I can lure ( Read more... )

If there are one or more people on your friends list who make your world a better place just because they exist, and who you would not have met (in real life or not) without the internet, then post this same sentence in your journal.