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For people who kill themselves

In many ways I admire you man. You are willing to quit anything instantly that gets too hard. I don’t know anyone that walks that quickly…from such opportunity. Find someone you cannot stand and become their shadow. Define: understand.

Once you become a part of their story there is no way out but the end of the earth. Just look in Geoff bezos eyes, the article about him wanting to live forever – a master of the law of attraction and whatever other deplorable aspirations these true artists of their own destiny posess on the back of my eyelids. So life like too. Close enough is good enough for me!

It’s not hard to get people to agree with you but the real schranz is how to control nature and stop it ruining your fucking concentration while your mastering your own destiny and masproducing.

What actually is? Though? Chair right at the end. You couldn’t buy that kind of hallway. IN YOUR HEAD. You’d have to smash holes in the wall to find it. I mean for the walls to stop talking. You watch. So far out of the comfort zone you have to go! Or just get a script for dexies

theres that drumming in me head trying, but it doesnt matter. Open up. I know how to do it I told them but you don’t always want to; especially on Sunday with the rellies.

excercise. Satisfying on many levels and not just being groped. I’m interested in non-perspective – like the whopping gum on morrison rd splitting its own trunk and emptying a brown pool. I did the same thing at 2am. Some sort of expanding purulence within and taco momentum. Search: can garlic allergy. Permethrin.

once i had to crawl out of el hermanos cantina and across beaufort st with tunnel vision but that was chilli.

the bugs are in the vanity woodwork perhaps i inhaled too much spray. Sure enough it all came out – you think no matter what happens you’ll handle it, but not that. Sea sickness was natures way of telling youto stop trippin

Given my reaction right now is one of impulse, contempt, soy latte, covid and disbelief – perhaps I’m overlooking HECS indexation as fair moral and actually helpful? To question the belief that membership with prestigious organisations will guarantee me lifelong financial and social security. I’ve been to 3 different uni’s mate. Hey it might! But it still doesn’t answer the question of why I use people as ladders and forget them the minute they’re underneath me.

I need something to keep me morally accountable ay – outside of ridiculously good haircuts which is generally going somewhere where people are trying to be honest, are exhausted by mental cheating high LFT’s and have an inkling that they too are climbers.

I might still go back but only to remind myself that I am actually better than other people and hopefully find some taller ladders.

15.7.2022

I could easily walk from here. How long would it take? It was a fucken long drive bro haha. It’s at least 5 hours from the city – you’d have to camp.

The funniest thing happened, I went outside in the dark and down a few garden paths. It was hilarious. On the gravel near the fence in the wet fern I remembered who I was 25 years ago. Lying there paralysed with the horrific stars. There were more people then. And up there that’s where it happened. There’s so many things I don’t have to do anymore.

I love knowing they’re all in there dancing and some over there and up there too and I’m out here. It’s enough you know? And here and there a dog in a wooly thing will come up and you say I wish I was like you.

I could’ve been that cowboy fallen asleep on himself by the fire, or Dennis or just that beautiful polished hardwood bench they’re leaning on to be around and not a part

Café writing.

Crooked Tuesday 28 Jun 2022

He woke up before bed, more alive than he’d been since walking. Sitting cross legged and throwing his head back in laughter to thank the ceiling. The sky’s brilliance emanating from behind the eyes. It’s 2am, but what do we know about this fellow? I think his amusement comes from radical independance. Because although he moans that his bell is never rung he’s the one who took the batteries out. A wicked game.

His lips are moving as he attempts to define what it is about this scenario which is pleasing. It’s no one thing. One thing is the party lights bouncing up into the frame, it’s ventricular cadence and irresolution. Perhaps that’s not bright but it’s just not asking for anything.

He had conceded to eat a community meal tonight and was surprised by the commodity. The honey man was there whom he threw a concerted salute to in the shadows. It was worth going out of his way to do. Most people sitting on kerbs are.

They’d asked if he needed anything else and he’d been honest, which was embarrassingly graceful. “I do work,” he told them, “but only to pay the rent.” The other lady came over and said they were sorry but had no tissues. “We have paper towel but it’s a bit rough on the face.” He said it wasn’t for his face.

I don’t think you can call it asceticism as that’s deliberate. It’s more like necessitism; as long as they didn’t know about the record collection. The party lights seemed to accent the amusement because you can’t see the pub from the floor but it’s there; among the others glowing and deserted. The emptiness of his life could finally pull the senses into their proper orbit, reflecting those that tend to glimmer. A star is true charity – unpolite.

Everyday I can’t get out of bed as I get out of bed, nor can I put the rubbish out. I’m not talking to her she’s famous. We will go back to Elvira St, where the druggy skaters from laselle smash a building site.

Consoled by youtube strangely – is that possible? A moving, saying that can help me walk the street lighter? Words are the point. Instructions. It is the eclipse, see how wei say things only to propel. Meetings are full of this – going through the motions.

But, while walking – dogs are barking mad. I knew it wasn’t about me this time. Amusement. In my arm chair called out to whatever it is out there amused at my selfness barking indiscriminately comprehensive complete occupation. What choice remains? It gives you the perspective of a robot or a fighter (jet).

The youtuber? Said his life was very uninteresting. TBH people don’t want you to worship them – it’s like getting angry at seagulls for using you. One of the great beliefs I have is that I cannot trust my mind despite trusting not to trust it. A reoccurring decimal.

You don’t bother transcribing or it would go on forever. You just write “r” and move on. You understand now how pointless it is doing cocaine. I said, “Look, I can’t go on – no, wait. Look, I don’t know why – no.” See the universe can’t really work with that, it’s too broad so I said, “Look, I can’t go on, I don’t know why,” etc etc. Apparently I’m already going on and know how + why.

This made sense to me but not my flowers so I’ve let them live how they wish.

Using every cognitive resource to achieve the male ideal an insecure narrator invents the ultimate alias: a renegade leader and sexual athlete. Compared with reality when males generally have no distinction between self and identity this example disassociates to the point the inner alpha is an entirely seperate person. The plot is a process of uncovering this great hijacking of consciousness while avoiding the pitfalls of preaching with an entertaining obfuscative style. The ending is reminiscent of schizophrenics who believe intricate paranoid delusions and sadly even when in recovery grapple with the lure to former glory by apparitions of masculinity which they have not yet possessed the grace to throw a sheet over.

But you never know who sees you, so don’t be invisible.

I love people I don’t like for being themselves.

Pablo Picasso spent his career trying to paint like a child.

The best advice I ever got in recovery was to knock yourself out.

Let’s be honest your going to anyway.

Enjoying the ride?

When no-one loves what you do,

Love them so you can (love what you do)

And they will end up loving you anyway

Even if they don’t

Honesty

And I don’t mean confession

I mean never making a mistake

Not even one, ever.

Get it?

You’re alright!

Cya

Description: Looking head on at craving, trying to set foot in a new land of okayness. To glimpse what I have wanted ever since I remember something not being right. I feel like this is a win today.

Transcription: because he is sitting there (Kanye) and he says even after he has all the shit. Material, s. That he still feels suicidal and he’s still addicted to percosets and doesn’t even realise it. And i thought, who do i wanna be? Do i wanna be someone, do i wanna be something that is controlled by some secret power that invades every hour, or do i wanna fight? Do i wanna fight for my freedom? What do i wanna, what do i wanna experience. Do i want reality or do i want drugs? Coz i have reality right now. Am i willing to fight for it? Do i wanna be remembered as someone who, was a genius? Or do i wanna be remembered as someone who had. Love. It’s more than courage. It’s. To, to want something new is more than courage. It’s death. It’s death of: being good enough it’s, of being loved, being excited, having fun. But it’s also the death of fear. Man that old life is just calling, all the time. All – the – time. And I tell other people to wake up. And they snap at me. But how do i know it’s possible? If i wont sit. In this, apparent hell. Crow crowing. In the unknown. In that lounge. The very thing i want. Is in front of me every day. And how many days have i run. Run from it. Given up. Given up on what i want. Which is to be free. Which is to love the moment. Red eyes. Hoarsesness. To love life.

Hot chips are technically sugar. It’s always hard to know which part of me is tackling you. You know when people ask you for stuff? What’s happening with uni anyway? It felt like I was going backwards plus maybe I’m finally full of myself. Which is why u do these things but maybe is as close as you’re going to get. Like how do you know when you have to turn? You’re turning. How do you know when you’ve had enough? You just know. But no, we have to make sure. Bad for the engine over time. And the ones who stop? Pikers. Secretly we admire their loyalty.

I’m not here to convince you that my life is interesting or that I caught 3 shoplifters. I’m aware that I try too hard to help others at times so have decided to go and see someone about it so I can help them. Someone was just faffing about so I offered to pay their bill. It’s been done for me I said. I’m trying to write what their response was but it will make me the winner. We were talking about how Usher told T Pain he ruined music for real singers. Nope I can’t talk about that either, ego cramps. Can I mention how ironic hipsters are because they’re gorgeous and terrified of how the outside world is perceiving them?

You know the ones, you’ve known them for 3 years and they won’t follow you. Then you get the Normies; GOD BLESS THE FUCKING NORMIES. You know everything about them and they don’t even blink despite you being better.

Somehow I got up at 8! Worth it because it was quickly 9:36. I got a pair of shoes for $2 and put them on. The soles are coming off the Pumas and would disrupt the finish in here. I heard, “fucking richies,” and they assessed me from the booths. Unsure exactly what it is we do in that moment but I could find out. How we look up from benches, yielding a semi automatic grading system. 22 million God’s with shopping lists. Now tell me where that comes from? I’d have to sit in the dark for two weeks to find the tendrils but I’d do it if I had some interest from investors. I renounce gawking at people every morning, including myself. I’m relieved to see people full of piercings despite the granite.

I was down at the fire last night having a soup. I didn’t say anything to anyone. I had it in my mind that I don’t need to fill silences. It wasn’t a serene understanding, more like treading water. I’m watching me there and I can’t see a problem. Say hello or don’t, get in the car, go home. The only thing worth writing about is the fire and I didn’t notice it.

Carrying on like yesterday’s record. The best part was the loser bit which no-one will understand. I’m a loser. Think about it. If I’m a winner you’re a loser, if you’re a winner I’m a loser. I saw it. Not right now because I’m ambitious but I did. I called someone a loser for ever then I realised they were just trying to win. Which is what we’ve all been conned into doing here. I dunno if you get it. Maybe you want to get it. I know two people like that. The first thing we do is go, oh I’m not good enough because I’m not levitating. April fools. Isn’t that a relief. I won’t even understand this next week but it’s fun to do. You can just tell when somethings coming from a different place. It’s lost its grip. I was looking at someone’s profile who’s got it all and the bio says, “Don’t worry I hate myself.” I felt relieved. Why? It gives me hope in the coin toss. Death and dreams are made in the same factory. If I write in a way which encourages you to compare yourself you’ll have to go get drunk. Why, because I’ve got guts. I’m so outgoing I’m suicidal. Beat that. Homicidal is a close second. Maybe it’s first, I dunno we didn’t watch those movies in my house. I’m not suicidal. No-one is unless they believe it. I used to. I saw something funny, a cinema full of sheep watching a movie about a paddock full of sheep. They’ll never get out.

Respect to The Work of Byron Katie

Listening: Joy Orbison’s new album, Still Slipping. XL https://tossportal.bandcamp.com/album/still-slipping-vol-1

The reason I left uni last week is because I realised how stupid it is to actually pay for something I don’t want but have been convinced I do and is actually killing me. 

The reason I have come back to uni this week is because the excitement of wearing black and showing my forearms is more appealing than being strictly alive; looking out the window. The dreadful existence of being above it all. Must not be abstract must not be abstract. 

Even that’s an ideology though, letting go, giving up. I think we’re starting to get somewhere with, “give up giving up.” 

My friend recently asked me to write a monologue for one of his characters. It’s top secret but has to do with the meaning of life. He says, “You’re the only person I know who could write that.” I agree with him because I’ve seen it; most days too, right up until lunch time when the guilt of underachieving kicks in. 

I know how to get it. 

But I don’t want it.

Because I’m an excellent listener. All the shit you guys have filled my head with over the last 40 years. Even through all the chronic diagnoses and the bed sores, the lice, the footpaths and the I couldn’t possibly get any lowers. Must not be excessively sentimental must not be excessively sentimental. Still I listen and say just give them another chance.

Don’t take this personally unless you enjoy that sort of thing, a good way to measure this is how you react in online forums or watching the news. I think there’s about, actually no-one I know is beyond that. And if they are they’re judging the ones who aren’t. But I do have some associates who are above it, and they were my disabled clients while I did support work. 

I’m justifying the fire in my belly right now with Jesus’s rage in the market. But really the cause of rage is my own noseyness. I could also question that though given a story I heard from a class mate. It was during a printing studio and one of the other students was not listening to the instructions of how to use the press. The tutor flew into a quick fit of rage. My friend monitored the following moments very closely and observed a clear beginning and end to the anger. She carried on in a balanced manner without any further interruption to the cohesion of the group. He and I being both experienced in brawling were in awe of this. 

The reason I write this way is because I intend it to be read. If I were to write exclusively for my own benefit it would look like a stock take pro-forma, then again that could be interesting. 

During meditation I realised that there were people in Perth who’d made celebrated contributions to local music and had thousands of followers, were down right gorgeous and people thanked them when they were in public. The biggest factor was how many blonde haired friends they had, and how those people look stunning wearing a sleeping bag. I saw how frequently these sexy gifted people posted pictures of their heads or some ironic supermarket scene. I thought these mother fuckers have exactly what I want and behave in precisely the same manner which keeps me awake at night. What I mean is I have absolutely no evidence to suggest they are happier than me. It certainly seems that they’re getting their own way though. I know what I’m like when I get my own way. Higher than you. Way way way way lower. 

Do you ever have so many fantastic things to write at once they get bottlenecked? I look amazing today. I put that down to stopping when I was full. I seem to have so many great clothes when my life’s going well. My life goes well when I get my own way and I get my own way when the Dr gives me a 3 month work exemption. Having great hair also has something to do with it.

We were out last night and a girl kept passing behind me and saying sorry even though she didn’t bump me. We agreed that she was hot so I said, “Poor girl,” and turned my back to her. I don’t know where I picked that strategy up but it worked because I never saw her again.

The book I’m reading made me jealous and want to start dating. The problem with dating is people only like me if I don’t talk. It’s hard to manipulate people like that. Eventually they realise I’m not actually cool and I have to call them posers for the rest of my life when I’m trying to go to sleep.

I told my Dr I was better than ever but only because I’m unemployed. He said that Centrelink’s job is to get rid of me and his job is to help me stay alive, that there’s no question I’m bright, most people don’t realise that times an illusion. No question, I said, showing him all the writing I’d done in his waiting room and saying how I learned to make music in 6 months. Would people be interested in your music? Probably not; and we both laughed. Not anyone I know anyway. The only thing that makes sense is online, that’s the future, Then he sugested blogging.

New Chris Music

We’ve had our share of troubles; gut ache, best friends. I will not try to be positive because it’s just as intolerable. I’ve come to grasp intellectually that some humans inherently and ungratefully can discern between horror movies and reality. I have wondered how a bed wetter goes from being unable to able, and the evil from bad to good though all I really have is there word.

I haven’t been taking the aspirin. I figured through self deception that as I mostly, actually sometimes eat well, that plaque wouldn’t adhere to the aortic stent, break off and lodge in my brain. Raised blood sugar is on the rowing team with thrombis and here I am by the river with a car full of melting moments.

Trouble eating is a great marketing tool for juicers. Spinach is like an eraser for yesterday but you can’t rub out dermatitis. Skin is king, you can’t make up with bulemic tricks.

I threw a tantrum earlier deciding that life had nothing to offer me and I was going to sit on my mattress until I’d gotten to the root of why the world thinks I’m bad with my hands. You know, I muted the phone then turned off the phone then punched the floor then set up the camera to record me punching the floor and knew in my heart that I’d figure it out relaxing at the bakery.

Everything’s good again. The fisherman is pissing in the bush, cockatoos are playing, my sister got a tattoo gun and I’ve been to 3 life drawing classes in a row.

4 Jan 2018

I was at Rifo’s with Lawrence and told him I had 19 of these journals. He said I should start screwing with them. Did I have the trick? Why did I have the attack of the holidays? I sat with mum for hours, we read Matthew and she cried three times. I told her I struggle with a love between God and art. She said art is in his image and not to surpress it. Then I saw Lawrence then Sam then picked up the velvet book and burst. I was supposed to go to bed but the ink kept gushing. It had been stuck all this time inside a jelly of fear. Afraid of ridicule for being soft and wobbly. But now it’s like the most amazing cordial. I just know this is what they mean by purpose. Bad energy stays in the throat but the chords are relaxing, my voice is breaking again. Things are really starting to change because I realise I can’t. Mum said I need to get checked out. That there’s a good therapist in Mt Lawley. The poison needs to come out, it’s tearing you apart. I said don’t worry about what Aunty Pat says. It’s my Facebook and I’ll write whatever I like. That was a poem for chrissakes. She said, “Maybe I should listen to it with music?” I sung Dadada. It really does sound like your going off the rails though. I said I haven’t been on the rails since the 60’s. At that party, on a big property. A girl said we may as well get married and save time. So I took her to my room, there was clean clothes allover the bed. I said I don’t bother putting them away there’s no point. She got in and I went into my high school garden for a leak which went for ages. When I got back to my room it was rearranged and she was crying. “He came in wild with language and pissed right there two times.” I said, “Right,” and went and cut up his toy engine with a hacksaw.

26 October 2015

I was thinking about it, but I changed my mind.

Here’s how.

Found a friend who didn’t call me selfish, change the subject or tell me it’s not that bad. Someone who could listen without giving me advice. Unless advice is offered very tactfully it will be perceived as a judgement, that the answer is simple and that I’m not trying hard enough. And basically just make me hate them.

Saw a therapist. In Australia you get 10 free sessions a year on Medicare and surprisingly when combined with the other coping tools listed here it can prove very helpful. Even if it’s just one thing they say, it has helped me move through a new door of self awareness. I was certain there was nothing more for me to gain from counselling and when goal setting was suggested I scoffed. ‘That’s one of the reasons I’m so messed up because of all this pressure to achieve something.’ But It did help me. It helped me realise that living on the street wasn’t an option anymore. That what was most important to me at that time was having somewhere safe to live. So I started taking steps towards it and am picking up keys to a studio apartment.

Faced my emotions. I read somewhere that if people could just deal with their emotions, there would be no need for therapy. Luckily I have a tool for that, Vipassana Meditation. On average I practice 1 hour a day, have done for 3 years. And I don’t have insomnia anymore. It’s like excercise for the mind, making it strong. It is not about 3rd dimensions, it is like training a very naughty dog x 1000. But like excercise which makes me feel good when I do it and enhances many other areas of my life, when I don’t do it, the benefits are easy to forget. So frequency is key.

Minimized addictions. There is no way around it, whether it’s heroin or cake, there is no truth for me in synthetic experiences. At times it’s not even about resisting it’s about knowing what I have to do to get better which is experience those difficult feelings naturally. Nothing motivates abstinence like abstinence. The feeling of being clean and not needing anything to be myself. I’ve been working on this for over 10 years and have remained completely drug, alcohol and cigarette free since the 1st day of 2013

My other demon is habitual eating. Besides my friends and even my therapist thinking it’s hilarious for me to eat 10 donuts and a jar of Nutella, I feel like it’s just as physically and spiritually damaging as other drugs. Just my opinion. I had to cut out sugar again recently for over 2 weeks because I’d been hitting it so hard I was breaking out in dermatitis and waking up in night sweats.

Excercise. Nike got it right, just do it. I know it’s good for me because I’m full of endorphins after a workout, it’s a stress reliever, it burns guilty calories, tones and keeps my body functional and most importantly gets my mind off staring at the wall trying to solve the mystery of depression. I said to my therapist, “I feel like excercise is just a distraction, like a band aid, that I’m running away from my problems and they will be right there where I left them. ‘That may be so,‘ she said ‘But is sitting there thinking about it actually helping?’ Absolutely not,‘ I said. ‘I’ll sit there for 3 fucking days drawing nooses.’ ‘Exactly, she said ‘It’s very dangerous.

Work. All of the above, helping my mate at work, djing, volunteering in the community. Even if I do feel like pulling out on the day because I’m quiet and weird and can’t hold a fucking conversation, I go get involved and usually find it was worth it. Just doing something to get me out of the house, into a routine, a reason not to stay up allnight. Developing my interests. There are times when all of this rationale is beyond me and I can’t get off that dark path but I like to think my determination has something to do with improvement. Recovery is hard work but suffering is harder. I know some people don’t have a support network and depression has often convinced me that I don’t have one either, which is bollocks. Because there is someone to ask for help, I just need to keep asking and if they don’t come I’ll scream at the top of my lungs until they do.

I didn’t always have a support network or interests to give me something to work towards. I used to drink, steal, and hate. But with continuous hard work better things came. It happens very slowly but 15 years passes quickly and there is nothing more important than my mental health. That is my job and it is so difficult, almost impossible, that’s why I don’t blame people for killing themselves or most of the population for being addicted to something. I know when I see a filthy person crouched in a street corner talking to themselves that it could have been me. I was on the start of that path, the voices in my head were taking over. So can someone come back from that? I would love to hear from anyone that has recovered or developed the tools to cope with mental illness.

Jail used to seem like something I was working towards, there was even a time I thought I’d be able to kill someone if they wronged me. Now I can’t even kill a mosquito. So I make an exception on getting advice when my therapist says, ‘Keep doing whatever your doing, because it’s working.’

Kilaheem

 

mum took this