How long will this last?

Is psychosis forever?

“Yearning” has become popular online recently but I don’t think people know how much yearning actually sucks.

Unrequited love.

All that jazz.

Autism

Voices in my head make you or “someone else” sound like this autistic chick:

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DSsZJ0RkSf_/?igsh=MXBraHA3czF4cmFocw==

Like this is what I have to look forward to in a relationship with you or “someone else”

P.S.

Ok clearly that can’t be “you” and by “you” I mean the “you” I address when I say “you” (you know who you are) because you have a job. You are working. Or were, I found said job, etc.

Make it make sense

So, if everyone else, but you, was operating under your username, why did I meet you, if you weren’t also interested in me?

It sounds as if, in my psychosis, that ABWjr, who has been pretending to be me all these years, along with MSF, met “someone else.”

But I met you, I even checked to make sure it was you, and shared my information so you knew it was me!

If your “mother” held space for me or your “father” and “Odin” was interested in my music then what? Your family will fight over me to see who gets to continue their relationship with me?

I can already tell I can’t have a relationship with your mother.

I’m not homosexual, so there goes a relationship with your father or brothers.

I only had eyes and ears and a mouth and a nose and all my other senses pointed at, thinking of, trying to court and woo, you.

Why would anyone else matter?

LOML

There are so many variables at play.

Voices earlier in the day said you’d pinch me because I’m honestly dreaming if I thought we were getting back together.

And quite literally I had that dream.

I don’t remember it now but I remember going through the day and going “wait no that’s not true.”

I’ve been thinking about you so much without thinking about you.

And yeah, the psychosis kind of forced my hand when it comes to admitting how much I love and adore you, but the psychosis also makes it feel like I never knew you at all.

I’m not, slamming my head against a wall about it or anything but I can’t pretend to be apathetic either.

I’m numb, but I still feel, at least in small amounts.

No more screaming into voice recordings.

No more video threats of coming out of the closet.

No more trying to do anything just to get you to respond.

That’s all that was.

But why were YOU so damn important.

Why wasn’t it a girl that actually lived nearby? Someone that wouldn’t cost $4,000 to visit regularly?

And why’d you get into a relationship so quickly?

How’d you get over me so soon?

Why did I drag myself near deaths door so many times, so frequently every time life decided to try and put someone else in my arms?

That’s over now but I was such a sad, wild man.

And I’m over here still rapping about it, thinking of you, wishing I knew what was true, wanting to see you, only knowing your name.

What else is there..?

The Dark Urge

It’s not really a window of clarity, but I’ve noticed I’ve come to a point in my condition where I blog less, where I reach out less.

This isn’t to say that the voices have stopped, but also, and they instigate, that they have some frequency that can force me to type or give me the feeling that I want a dialogue with you.

By now you should know that you are the greatest love of my life, and I don’t intend to have anything or anyone take your place, at least not at this moment, but I find it odd that the voices kind of, sound as if they’re toying with me, like I’m some puppet on their strings.

True, I have to will myself to write even something as simple as this now, but if you were within arms reach of me, after all of these sweet nothings do they think I’d sit in a room idly with you for even a moments notice?

Yes yes yes the “puppy love” phase dies, but aren’t Norwegians known for “enjoying the silence” and if it came to the fact that I was listening to music and you were reading a book do they think I wouldn’t ask you what you thought or give you the paper for a sudoku puzzle or put my head phones on you to listen to a song that makes me think of you or ask you what you’d want to eat later or if you’d like to watch a movie and etc etc etc?!

The possibilities are endless.

But the fact of the matter is that you are literally thousands of miles away.

Medication not working?

Been on new meds for a few weeks now, but honestly it feels like my psychosis is getting worse.

I woke up Saturday morning legitimately thinking we were going to get back together, before I shook my head and realized the voices have really been doing a number on me.

I think after these next 6 months if this keeps up I might ask my doctor to increase my dosage again, but I gotta do something to lose weight too.

Realistically I have to do both, work on the voices and work out, at the same time, but this sucks. It wasn’t even going to not suck but man, this sucks.

"Sister"

Voices just established that there was or is someone who killed someone in New York and also changed their name to yours and got facial reconstruction to look more like you. They also said ABWJr. is the only one who knew, and could tell the difference, but wanted to maintain a long distance relationship., probably because of this “sister” of your’s homicidal tendencies.

Now let’s circle back around to the “incest.” If this person is, impersonating you, although you have no relation, it's very likely that she, this, “sister” is the “someone else” the voices keep going on and on about, and because of her unstable mental faculties, she reports her experiences as “incest” or some other diabolical machination, if not to inspire this “Black Metal” then just just what? Drive people to the same point of insanity that she experiences? What’s the pay off?

Anyway I’m not even trying to keep up with all the nonsense/hallucinations, if I can even call it that anymore, but I had to write this down at least so that if I meet her, this “sister,” and get killed at least there's some record of me trying to figure this shit out.

God maybe she was the girl that pointed at me in the hospital too…

Håvard/Howard/Howie*

This nigga got plaque for brains. This nigga got a smooth brain made of plaque lmao

P.S.

Remember when I figured out his “English Name” is “Howard” ? I wonder if calling him “Howie” for short would piss him off lmao

“Wake Up”

You want ME to “wake up” ?!

FFFFFFFFFFFFFUCK YOU IN A BAD WAY!!!!

I’m just trying to fucking stay sane over here!

I’m not asking you for a goddamn thing other than a fucking dialogue and I can’t even get that!

Fuck all the way off and have a rotten day while you’re at it.

Like a disappointed dog

Having a window of clarity where the voices all reveal themselves to be other people from my past lives and I recall that I don’t know a damn thing about you, other than what you’ve previously said.

And every time I think or understand that we may never meet again it’s like some excited puppy in my mind is being told “no” and it understands.

Every time these hallucinations, these voices build me up, unwillingly, and I’m left face down in the dirt with this tragedy that is my affection for you.

Fuck.

This.

BAD ENDING

Voices keep saying that night in the park, you were “turned all the way up” and that’s the reason why you wanted to get shot in the head by the cop that was approaching us. Somehow being “turned all the way up” makes you clairvoyant or totally oblivious but the story I’m hearing goes that cop would’ve either killed you and try to blame it on me, or I would have had to fight the cop and you would’ve run away to God knows where, maybe even back to the hostel with your family and left me on my own.

I fucking hate this.

"That's why I wouldn't want a wife"

I have this voice in my head claiming every time I say “I love you” he gets a blowjob from you.

But that blowjob comes from “someone else” the same “someone else” that apparently visited ABWjr.

The voices says “That’s why I wouldn’t want a wife I have a daughter that does whatever I want.”

You know by now that one of the horrors of my mind is the voices or the hallucinations my damaged brain produces, places you among others in incestuous situations.

By now you’d all be able to own a gun, unless you have or must advocate for your rights back to owning a firearm like I need to here in Massachusetts, but if you have a gun, and the voices keep saying you wanted to die so frequently, why haven’t you done it yet?

Why subject yourself to sexual abuse?

Do you have Stockholm syndrome?

Are you somehow perversely addicted to these acts of molestation?

Really what’s the root of this problem and what the fuck does it have to do with me?

Something just aint clicking, because if you have the ability to escape, by any means, what is stopping you?

You came back to Boston

Voices just told me that at some point you had come back to Boston to be with ABWjr.

Great.

I hope it was everything you’d dream it would have been.

Now if you could, since you are somehow an important person in my mental illness, kindly tell the voices in my head that the best way to get over you, is to not mention you at all, I would greatly appreciate that.

That’s all I want.

I don’t want to write to you.

I don’t want to love you.

I don’t want to try and start a new relationship with you, and you know why, or you have some idea.

I want to be left alone, with my own thoughts, in my head, and not these alien voices making you the center of my fuckign universe 24/7.

P.S.

I’m not saying that I don’t love you, I do, but I don’t want to, because I want to love someone that will return love to me. THat’s all.

This tug of war I’m playing with myself is pointless and somehow I can’t stop it.

What the Fuck

Why is “rape” a currency in Norway?

Why do I hear that “she/you had to be raped to start seeing him again.”

Why the fuck is this such a goddamn FREQUENT thought/voice line?!

It makes literally no sense. It’s almost so fucking common that it isn’t noteworthy, that the action begins to lose its meaning as a statement, maybe not so much as an act.

Fuck.

Walk on by

A girl that kind of looked like you just walked by me right now as I sit waiting for mY job to start.

I said out loud “if she wanted to talk ti me, she’d approach Me”

As opposed to me, hopping to my feet and running to confirm my suspicions…

hopefully this means I’m getting better…

1010 Mass Ave

Voices are saying you gave that janitor a blow job, and he wanted to ejaculate on your neck.

I recall even in my hallucinations, on multiple occasions, or at least one in particular, a “woman” I assume, a pornstar, “Sat” on my erection member. I kind of remember that vividly, and, if they or she wasn’t just a figment of my imagination, but rather a wave form created by unknown technology (unknown to me) I can see a scenario where someone existing outside of you, yet “haunting” you could effect another man’s phallus.

That’s not hard to imagine, what hard is having to constantly recognize and get over the feelings that well up when I hear/think about this hit.