And she spoke of Divine Intervention

At least, that's the way it's always been in my life.


It is uncanny.

Unkmown to Science

The right people are around when you need them.

The Holy Ghost and the Iron Sword

Hahah, that last post waa funny.

You know what's interesting? I went to the hospital for this infection I have and the doctor listened to my lungs and said they sounded terrible. I could feel the wheezing in them. She said "You're 25, you really need to quit smoking."

I went home and did.

She will never know this.

Merry Christmas

Quitting smoking fucking sucks. Not having that first cigarette in the morning with my first cup of coffee blows. I am in a pissed off mood so probably won't be posting to my blog much because it is supposed to be all flowers and sunshine and shit. Fuck sunshine, give me a tanning bed and a lightbulb. Fucking Edison, spitting in the face of God.

She found joy and sorrow and lived for nothing else

Oh yeah, I am quitting smoking. Wish me luck.

Getting up and going

Dad didn't mean to get me a lame gift. Just what they sent was not what was represented in the catalog.

The klonopin is helping me out tremendously. I feel like my old self again, pre schizophrenia. It' weird.

It's why I haven't been writing much, I've been busy cleaning up my apartment and talking to some friends online. Everyone is saying how I'm back to my old self again, it is pretty cool.

I will tell you more of my past. What should I tell you. I don't want to tell you about the women yet. Maybe I will tell you about the leg.

When I was in first grade I was tipping back in my chair and falling out of it to make this one kid, Patrick, laugh. I kept doing it over and over, until I fell 0n my left leg and started crying. It hurt. Bad. I couldn't get up. They called my father and brought a wheelchair. I couldn't get off the floor, it was right by my hip that it hurt, this is a weight bearing area. My dad picked me up and carried me to the ambulance.

I was in the hospital for several months and finished out school there. My leg was in tracton, which means it was kept elevated by a metal pole through my knee. The doctors said I had a weak spot on my femur that was bound to break at some point.

When I got out of traction they put me in a half body cast and sent me home. I was a hyperactive kid, so I developed this duck waddle way of walking with this half body cast on. No wheel chair for me.

The body cast kept my legs spread at a 45 degree angle, and there was a steel bar between the legs above my knees for strength. The cast went all the way down my left leg, and down to the knee of my right. So I could bend my right knee and swing my left leg over. I walked like this for several months.

After awhile they cut the cast off. Doctor tells me "Okay now you won't be able to stand for a few weeks, and you shouldn't walk for awhile." I told him I'd already been walking in the cast. "Oh, if I had known that, I would have put rubber bottoms on it." or something like this.

Anyway we get home and my dad's like "Do you think you can stand on it?" I said yeah, probably. I stood on it. Fine. I started walking. Fine. We walked home.

What the doctors failed to realize was that I had monostotic fibrous displaysia, a tumor growing in my femur that made the bone very brittle and easily breakable. It's usually caught in that exact scenario, a kid breaks a bone from the tumor, they spot the tumor and remove it. This doctor didn't remove the tumor. It would grow back. It wouldn't be discovered until I was 18. It is the reason that I am schizophrenic.

I will tell you more later.

Sentry guards were everywhere.

Dad is making up for truly lame christmas gift by getting me the pins I need for my acoustic. He's also throwing in my favorite strings and picks. Score.

Fifty shots, he ducked to the floor.

I'm on clonzepam now. It works well, it has slowed my thinking down and made me feel more normal.

I am agitated right now because I had to smash the window open on my truck to get my keys. Oh well.

There's a cat that comes around loving on me and shit and wanting my attention. I fed it today. Give it a name.

Humming through the clouds, a brilliant life is formed.

I tried to explain to my friend Heather that there is something past the opposites. Something past the good and evil, the yin and yang, the dominant and the subservient.

"What is past that?" She asks me.

"I don't know. I just know it's there."

"How do you know?"

"I just do."


I am teaching it to myself, and I am teaching it to you.


...

At least this is something different.

Pushing the envelope got you just that

There are two people who want to make music with me. A violinist and a drummer.

The drummer is my good friend Miles. We jam on the same groove.

The violinist played with us once. She has much more jamming experience. I've only jammed a handful of times, mostly with miles. 5 times, I think I've jammed, three times with Miles. This experienced person likes it.

That is good directions to go. I think I told you this.

When you are schizophrenic, you believe you are a terrible person, and that you are inherently evil. You tend to act out these things, believing that is who you are.

One of the girls I linked to is going through this. She has said that 90% of her life is drugs. Wow.


I wonder how many people in the world feel unsuccessful. Certainly they are the majority.

Perhaps they had a taste, and couldn't cut it. They were outlasted by their betters.

It stands to reason. There are going to be superior human beings born. This is powerful. We are built to know our place in the world.

It's like a great big number system, with you at the bottom.

No no, this is terrible, it is just sometimes you feel this way.

This has no meaning, and that's the point.

There are actually people who say that life has no meaning.

I suppose the argument against that is you make your own meaning.

The existentionalist will say "Well, you are wrong."

This is how I feel about religion. I believe it is made by man, and it is a wonderful thing. Hell, I should join it and you should to, but you know what? We'd be wrong. Who cares?

A friend of mine, Justin, said if you dedicate your life to being correct that would just be horrible.

Powerful words.

Today is the day I tell you things. There are about ten of you so far, on average, per day, that take time to read what I have to say.

That is a little nestle of perfect in your life. That means you are interested and enjoying, and I am just mad.

Heh, maybe you are not interested. Maybe it is just something different.

Maybe that is the part of life we are at right now.

Math is at the heart of the Universe

I KNOW WHAT THIS BLOG NEEDS TO MAKE IT COMPLETE SOME BAD POETRY AND/OR SONGS. PERFECT.

I will pick out a song I wrote before (well going into) my schizophrenia and I will post it up. Yes, it really is one of those things where you are reading some dude's blog, and he puts up lyrics to one of his "songs". This is actually happening, hold on.

I am listening to it now, the guitaring is excellent. My voice is crappy, but as about as good as I could get it. The song meaning is obvious.

There was more to life
Then we ever knew
Now I see why
We could never get through

One time in my life I had thought that we could change
You said in broken numbers, hearts are gone, that you had ran away
And now I wonder if I ever fought back distressing true
In all these faces I've seen everyone but still it isn't you.

It isn't you.

And all your tears are gone
And I was never here
They love you now
You've got nothing to fear.

One time in my life I had thought that I had ran away
It turns out time goes onward, do or don't, oh it will never change
And we can sit here mournful spilling sobs of broken promise true
My child time goes onward, there is nothing you or I can do

I can do
I can do

Music change

And these two hearts did linger
In the dead of winter I was experimenting between song progressions

Music stylings for a little bit as everybody realizes the girl and boy broke up and it was sad

Now I remember every single word you ever said
This faded light and this long drive are all stuck in my head
And I remember turning and walking right out that door
And I still can't remember what all of this was for

And this isn't
How I should feel
But I didn't anyway

Everything sounds so vague when I say these twisted lies
I know what I said, know how I felt, I read between the lines
No rhyme or reason I'll sing it backwards for you today
Was each one the same or was it I who turned the other way

And I said
That I should care
But I didn't anyway

Let's take a walk between this broken glass and icy tress
They say a wise man walks across these grounds upon his knees
Was that a saint, a fool in love, oh wise can never feel
There's only scars from things and thoughts, it takes a strong man to kneel

Well I never
Gave in yeah
So I guess I've fallen anyway


So that's it, this is officially a real blog now. I wrote that shit when I was about nineteen. I kept writing all this esoteric shit, so I tried to write something normal but still had my own twist on it. It's not that bad, really. The music behind it was pretty good, it needed a better singer than I. It is your average 19 year old break up song. Pretty sweet.

The songs I write now will be totally different. I have no idea what I'll write about now. Maybe I will write about stars and sunshine. I certainly do not want to write about chaos and despair. Maybe just a little bit. Maybe I will do mostly stars and sunshine with a little chaos and despair. I will probably sound like everyone else, so I will keep it so nice and easy. I really don't have a message.

Shh, don't tell my other readers that I said that. Having no message is part of the revolution.

The sundry little things.

So mybloglog shows me individual readers, and is immune to the attacking internet robots, unlike my counter. I think I am going to leave the counter up, so that you can see the casualties of battle. What does it mean? I have to learn what the attacking internet robots motivations are. Only then could I truly defeat them, or use them to my advantage.

We had 23 unique readers yesterday.

I wonder what they thought about my revolution.

I wonder how crazy they believe I am.

After careful consideration, I am not that crazy. However I am still dealing with issues that resulted from the last two years, and trying to recover. So it is a journey.

Life goes on, and on and on, no matter what is going on with you. I try to get maximum satisfaction out of it, while still dealing with a number of issues. I suppose this is the same of everyone. My friend miles, who is really interesting on the drums, we jam well together, hooked up with this girl who plays a fiddle and violin and likes our stuff.

Really for truly. Me, who went crazy and didn't play guitar for three years, and barely remembers how to play now, was able to hold a rocking jam session together. I talked to the girl today, and her and I will get together, and I will play her acoustic. All I have right now is an electric that's missing a string that I fucking hate. My acoustic, the one I make good music on, is out of commission. I have to order pins and strings for it, maybe I could ask my dad to do that for me.

I have until January 3rd to get my guitar chops together to hopefully write some songs, miles won't be there so I won't have that beat. But I think it will be okay.

Good night, good night

That is all I will speak about the revolution. It will be a secret again.

We'll float on good news is on the way

When I was a kid I realized I was different. I held on to that.

I have entered a No Man's land. That is what it is like, to be born, and to live on this earth, there are no rules. But you are told rules all your life. It is a No Man's land.

And you come to know yourself.

And other people. Which are all good things.

But for a revolution, it is a No Man's land.

Ignore me, and my fancies of revolution. I am just a (young) old man, okay, and I have needs.

What's the officer, problem?

Doc
12/17/2007 11:17 AM
reply · branch topic or poll · ignore · edit · edited · edit history
I'm glad you made that better vs. luckier argument, I was worried that you thought that people with better genetics were better people.

I'm lucky to be intelligent sure, but also, my genetics are mine. So I take ownership of it. I am lucky to have a pitcher's arm, it is me. Would you say that a person who is bred from a family of pitchers is lucky to have a pitchers arm, or a product of breeding. Where does the luck come in?

Doc
12/17/2007 11:17 AM
reply · branch topic or poll · ignore · edit · edited · edit history

Scientists want to keep certain tribes in third world countries because they are resistant to certain diseases. Want to keep them around for their genetics.



If you do not know this right now, let me tell you about the Human Genome Project. They are mapping all the genes of the human, trying to figure out people's coding. What makes you tick. What is responsible for the person you are, and also, who you are, like all the tests you are taking online telling you about yourself.

This guy mapped his own DNA, some high falutent scientist. He wrote a book about it. He knows a whole lot about himself now. I will find out who it was and let you know about it.

Welcome to the revolution. I am directing you towards the future.

And that's how the world began. And that's how the world will end.

I don't know if you underrstand capitalism, but you live on the Earth, you have an idea.

You are supposed to sell yourself.

What if you have nothing to sell?

Then you sell what you've got cheap.

Cheap vs. Expensive. It's a philosophy. Capitalism is bred into our brains.

It is very simple. An organism produces energy so that it is able to somehow take in energy from outside itself.

It's not a perpetual motion machine, that's impossible.

It requires outside force.

The idea is to take in more energy then you are expending. This is how to grow.

This is how a business grows. This is why you are fat.

Why are we at the pinnacle of everything? Where the fuck are we going.

It is coming. It always has been. More people can feel it, now more than ever.

INTERNET ROBOTS ARE ATTACKING MY BLOG.

I had 53 unique visitors yesterday. I am not that interesting.

Who the fuck wants to read a blog unless they can benefit from it, or laugh about it.

Watch YouTube. It is harder to attract attention then ever before. Everybody is surrounded by genius.

Fuck recipe blogs, I am pissed.

You will never grow up until you turn around and look at what is behind you.

Okay so the google ads are in place. Would they sell me books about schizophrenia? Would they try to advertise books about perception? Could I buy a dead baby joke book?

No, instead they offered me Helium.com. This is a place where writers get together and get paid for the value of their articles, and it is completely free to join.

I suppose this means I need to work on the value of my blog writing. You do too. Maybe I will write how I went schizophrenic eventually and then the experience of it, and I will get hints and tips for making it better, and then someone somewhere will pay me 50 bucks to use it in something.

Of course, I completely reserve the right to publish all my shit on blog first.

They gave an example of some articles that won money, and one of them was "How to throw a kareoke party." They basically described what a kareoke party was, what made it successful, and then told you to do that.

This informative little piece of information was bought.

Put that table over there.

Okay.

How does Google target ads to my website?

Once you've added the Google ad code to the webpages on which you want to display Google ads, we take care of the rest by automatically delivering relevant Google ads to those content pages. Google ads are targeted in two ways:

• Contextual targeting
  Our technology uses such factors as keyword analysis, word frequency, font size, and the overall link structure of the web, in order to determine what a webpage is about and precisely match Google ads to each page.
• Placement targeting
  With placement targeting, advertisers choose specific ad placements, or subsections of publisher websites, on which to run their ads. Ads that are placement-targeted may not be precisely relevant to the content of a page, but are hand-picked by advertisers who've determined a match between what your users are interested in and what they have to offer .

Our technology can also determine the primary language of a page


This basically means I will have a theme going. This is helpful to the revolution of the mind.

Open to it, he flashed a light, and they were blinded

Is there a place on the internet that lists blogs by description and category? I need to find cool blogs. I don't mind having mental health blogs, but I need other blogs too.

Rape in a bottle

Okay, I installed that counter like last night, and the fregging thing is close to thirty now. No way.

The only people that I know that know of my blog are people from this message board I post to. And there are not that many people there, and certainly not that many of them would read it.

I changed it so that if you are not a blogger member, you can still leave a comment.

What I need to know from you is how you found out about the revolution (my blog) (the revolution you don't know about too much yet, if you are a loyal reader, I have vaguely mentioned it) (the revolution is going to involve other like minded blogs as well that I have to find, so I will have to go blog hunting. I will tell you partly that the revolution has enemies. Recipe blogs) (This is all I will tell you right now of the revolution) maybe where it was listed, or just how you came across it, because I need to know more about my readers. I do not live in a glass bubble, or whatever, I must know my audience. I just got up so the thought process is even more clunky then usual right now. The train wreck, the thought process, the million miles and hour that lasts only for a second. Fuck Deja Vu and all your friends who have it.

Tell me how you found this and why you read and tell me something that you'd like to see. I need to incorporate more people, but as my good friend Heather likes to tell me, you need to focus on the here more, and not what's next.

Well she tells me you can't get to the next, until you have focused on the here. She says it is impossible to get to the next without understanding where you're at now. PREPOSTEROUS.


She is probably right. Why are women always probably right.

I have not yet told my friends how to get to my blog. I have not listed it on Myspace or Facebook. I don't want a bunch of posts yet about people I know going "I know dude, remember that thing that you were talking about and did! I had a reaction, and other people did too, and I am pointing that out on your blog now!"

When the time is right I will introduce my friends. Maybe when the amount of readers I have that I don't know rivals the amount of friends readers, then I will have a good dynamic. This is why I need to know where you are coming from and who you are (what you like) so that I understand my fan base better. Only then can the revolution start to take shape. I have some hunches.

Oh

and if you haven't got it yet, I am completely crazy to be like this. Enjoy.

Parade rest

So I have been trying to put myself in a more relazed state of mind. It paid off today.

Lars comes to me and says his girlfriend just broke up with him.

I know Lars pretty well, his girlfriend only a little bit, but I watched them interact at the party so learned a shit load there.

So I basically have some ideas for what is going on, and why he needs to do. All being relazed about it, following the thoughts step by step and trying to come to beneficial and positive conclusions. I ask him probing questions about his relationship. I explain to him some things he needsd to appologize about. I got him to think of the issues of the relationships, not just the problems. I explained to him that he and his girlfriend could list faults of each other til the cows come home, this is a waste of time because you want to be together, why say "Well you're a bitch." I explained to him that you could both have ten problems between each other, that stem from three issues, but if all you're talking about is the problems, you are not getting any done.

I helped him think. This is what I like to do. I am secretly in love with thinking. I don't go around getting people to think all the time, but I do enjoy when I get to do it with them. It is fun for me.

Jesus christ I am tired. I can't even keep up this writing style anymore, it is getting annoying.

Suffice it to say after Lars got a pen and paper and wrote down what I was telling him, and then writing a bit more for himself, we were able to come up with what issue was bothering him, and in a positive tone. I sent him off to his girlfriend and told him to tell her this. It will be a good thing.

He comes back to me later and says that everything went really well, and now his girlfriend who didn't like me much now likes and respects me. It was beneficial, I was trying to work on the beneficial and I'm glad it succeeded. I told Lars to ask Marybeth if she knew any single sorority girls, because frat guys are fucking retarded.

Was it wicked of me to kiss her when she couldn't have me?

This party was fairly interesting.

Lars had been talking about it for a week, and he invited all the people he knew that he liked, and a few of their friends. I knew most of them. A chunk of them were from the Honors dorm, and one was a mutual friend who wanted to bring two of his friends. I think Lars and I invited (of who came) 10 people or so, I knew all of them, and was on good terms with most.

Lar's girlfriend has an entirely seperate set of friends. She belongs to a sorority, so all of her friends are in sororities and fraternities. It is a wonder why she has such a low opinion of people, but I will say nothing more on that.

I was interested in what the fuck was going to happen, Plus it was Lars party, and he wants me to be his best man, so of course I am going to go.

The sorority party part was this. About five sorority girls, two who talked to each other the whole time before leaving, and then as the night progresed, small groups of boys would come, stay for a little bit and leave. The boys would generally talk about sex and boners and porn. Each individual group coming in one after the other would talk about the same thing. Penis

Then Lars and I mutual friends come over and are talking amongst themelves. Our friends didn't know the frat guys, and the frat guys didn't know them. Conversation would attempt a few times, but the frat guys were primarily interested in talking about penis to the sorority sisters. Can't say I blame them, I couldn't think of any witty but not too complicated weiner jokes, so I mostly listened to the play by play and read people's reactions. I also moonlighted with my friends and funneled a beer and drank a shit load of rum.

At some point one of the sorority girls gets a hair up their ass about Lars friends being there, but not me. I think it was because I was laughing at the stupid guy that everyone was making fun of. All of Lar's and my friend's are outside, because they do not know anybody else but each other, and the initial introductions fell flat. The sorority girl goes outside and makes up a street and says there is a keg party there, tell them I sent you, this party is lame and we will all be there.

I am not stupid. They had no intention of going to the keg party. She was basically kicking Lars friends out, who were already outside to begin with.

*sigh* I kind of figured this was going to happen. I didn't say anything to Lars from the get-go because why would I be pessimistic? Why do people get realism and pessimism confused all the time.

The honors kids aren't stupid. They realized that they had just gotten kicked out of a party their friend Lars invited them too. They went to find the party, I stayed. I planned on drinking what was left of the liquor there, and then joining my friends later with Lars once the booze was gone.

One guy there who wasn't in a frat, me him and Lars talked for awhile about some interesting stuff. We walk back in the living room and hear a guy go "Hey Ron, I bet you like that blowjob porn!"

Is this for real? Is this happening?

The keg party doesn't exist, and I convince Lars to come join me with some girls back at the dorm. Lars grabs a bottle of rum, and we go and have a really good time. I stay up all night talking to this one chick who turns out to be pretty damn smart, and in the morning Lars is on the phone with his girlfriend, bitching her out, another glorious fight that will quickly get swept under the rug.

Window washers of he soul

And just like that, I beat them all. Veteran guy, who I had just met up until this night, goes "Yep, you are a poker player." I had told him that I wasn't that good.

Thusly I learned the truism that a relaxed mind is a better capable mind. This is why true meditation is highly spoken of. I believe it improves your cognitive abilities and all that too. Relaxation is a positive thing.

Then why is it so hard for some people to relax. Maybe they find it too hard to relax.

What I have learned to improve myself as a continue to grow into a man (I am 25 years old, and am probably a man in the conventional sense, but one thing you realize at 25 is how the last ten years shaped your life and who you are, you mature, and then you want to mature into a good man) is that I should probably try to always be as relaxed as possible. This will no doubt have health benefits, psychological benefits, I mean it's probably just full of benefits all around and is a "Good Thing to Aspire Too."

I am usually mostly relaxed as I understand it, but I'm sure I could get better relaxed. Maybe I can even work on relaxing my friends.

Which takes me to the other part of this story. Lars is going out with this girl, they've been together for about three years now, and they are fighting a lot. A good example is the party they threw the other night.

The liquid burns

So basically having explained my general thought process about the whole thing, I still hope you like me, reader. You may think I'm incorrect about the shit I said prior. Let me know lay out for you my rationale.

I had been prescribed klonopins in the past, briefly. I did not die. It had been well over a year since I had done one, and one was offered and I took it. Recreationally, because I was not in front of a doctor determining if there was a need for me taking this.

I took them very briefly for high anxiety when I was first schizophrenic, dealt with the anxiety once it wasn't so bad, and stopped taking them.

I barely deal with my schizophrenia, now that I have dealt with it.

I took the klonopin and went to meet some new people through my buddy Lars.

By the time we get there, the klonopin starts kicking in, working on the chemical GABA in the brain, and basically inhibiting my thought process. This is a bare bones, least scientifical explanation of what a benzo does, and they do it in different ways, but it amps the inhibitory process in your brain which means you are generally not thinking so much. Your thoughts are calmer, and there's less of them.

So I became mellow. I had no anxieties. Fine by me.

Lar's friends want to play Texas hold em. I played maybe three times in Austin Texas three years ago, and just recently played about four games with a college student who spends a lot of her time playing online and brought some of my friends.

Readers let me tell you that I am horrible at this game. I do not know how to read people, I can't figure out straight or flush possibilties, I never see more than a pair or two pair or three of a kind. I bet horribly and usually lose fairly quickly on our dollar games, and will buy myself back in one more time, just because everybody is still playing, and I don't feel like going home. I'd like to last until the winner. But even some friends of mine that I'd bring over, some having only played once, did much better than I. My confidence in my poker playing is in the dumps, and I am trying to learn the game. A lot of times I have a hard time telling who's turn it is. I think I have illustrated my abysmal newbie skills enough.

At this dude's house one guy plays fairly regularly, one guy played three times a week for two semesters last year, and lars has been playing about as much as I, but usually does really well.

However, I am not anxious about looking like an idiot in front of these people. I want to learn this game. And for some strange reason, on this klonopin my thoughts are coming through linearally as opposed to making leaps and jumps and tangents, which is good for being really smart and getting your professors to like you, but not good for when you're trying to concentrate on simple shit. My thought process was inhibited at a nice comfortable place. I could stay on target in my head for what I needed to think about and was completing it to fruition instead of branching off possibilities. Also, in my relaxed state of mind, I was coming to better conclusions about things.

So I thought, let's play the game, and let's just try to be smart about it again. Learn from a mistake, look for opportunities, think of how you could improve. Simple shit.

My poker playing up to this game was a lot like how I approach math homework up til the test. I make every mistake in the book and not in the book, realize why it is a mistake, and then when the test rolls around I make a perfect score. Seemed like a sound strategy.

So perhaps this is the way I was approaching my poker games. Maybe this was the test, they were all better players. I also had the excellent opportunity to learn from them.

I looked at my hole cards (if you don't know what the fuck I'm talking about, get off my fucking blog and never come back I am only being silly to you) and I calculated the odds of me getting a pair. Simple enough, seemed like a good strategy until I realized, not knowing the cards the other players had, I had to assume a 3/52 ratio per card, 6/52 for getting a pair, and hold on let me try to figure out the math for getting two pair. If I want to do computer science, I have to be good at math, so I am trying to use it more daily in my life. No, I can't figure it out, I am tirede.

However, with practice, I was able to weigh the odds of other things happening, and make my bets accordingly. This had never occured to me before. It sounded like a pretty good strategy to start off with. I had no idea whether or not it was beneficial, but it should get me started down a good path. Maybe it would be a waste of time, but my other strategies hadn't worked for me so far, so why not try this.

This started to help me out. I was basically learning better odds.

I studied a number of other things. The game wasn't rushed, like the ones I've played before, where everybody is always trying to make a quick decision. I brought this up in the card game, and the veteran goes "That is stupid, trying to make quick decisions."

I thought perhaps the people I played with that were good already knew there stuff really well. The people in the game who weren't that experienced weren't taking their time either, because I suppose they really weren't thinking about it, but in this game, with better players, they generally took their time before moves. I learned that a better poker player takes his time to think things through, which you would think would be obvious, yet I had not seen it validated.

This is a long one

My first title of the conventional sense. Congratulations. That is to my loyal fans.

I bought some very low dose benzodiazepams. If you are a crazy person, then you already know what I am talking about, if you don't, benzodiazepams are basically like valiums. They ease anxieties. Hell, you might know some people who are prescribed benzo's such as valium, klonopin, and the godwful xanax. These are considered by the medical community ti be overall safe to use because of their mild sedative effect and the temporary relievement of worries and anxieties. If you know a person that is prescribed a benzodiazepam, then you know a person who usually has a lot of anxiety, all for different reasons.

You could be one of my reader's that believes it is possible, or even says it's possible to just deal with the root issues. You may be one of my readers that people do not need a benzodiazepam, they just need to just chill out or relax, either from within themselves, or from help from friends.

I am not arguing with any of you.

I am young, and of an experimental nature, so I did research on the drug first, both as a recreational drug, and a drug for pharmeceutical use, and I basically came to the conclusion that if I was to take the smallest dose of a benzo, I would be safe. Bad Things weren't going to happen.

Two things about Benzo's One of the reasons they are falling out of favor with prescribers is that over a long period of use they can become (physically?) addictive. We can extrapolate a little bit on this and realize that some people really get used to the drug, and can't deal with not being on it. Let us just say about these types of people that the doctors feel they are chronically anxietic (and probably gloss over the problem as a medical doctor, this is probably a psychological problem, or quite probably a domestic abuse problem because we all know that people from the ghetto domestically abuse each other.)

Ha ha, my wit is so so.

There is also the chance that it is physically addicting, which is a whole 'nother ball game. Take a drug long enough and your body eventually needs it. This would get into the long term effects, which you will find arguments out the wazoo of conflicting reports. Or it could be just that it always ends up causing brain damage, I have no idea. Look it up yourself, I am not prescribed the things.

If you have a friend who has been on valium or a benzo for a long period of time, and may have even tried to stop once, you may or may not be concerned for them. If you are concerned for them, then it is generally because of their behaviour, and this obviously gets into friendship limits. If you are one of my readers who has this problem, and you really care for them, then try to help them, unless you are not worried about them being on benzo's at all, you actually think the person is doing better, then don't worry about a damn thing for awhile, if it gets on like two years, start doing some research, I'm just this guy.

So anyway, I decided that I was going to purchase a low dosage klonopin for myself, educated and not worried about the side effects. It would be safe for me to use. If you had a bad back, and someone offered you one of their prescribed low dosage muscle relaxers, if it turns out it's not going to kill you after researching it (but there is always the chance it might because you are not a doctor) and you took the muscle relaxer and your back felt better and then you went about your day and went to sleep, and you woke up and you were fine, you are probably not going to think twice about the fact that you just abused someone else's prescription drugs. I think I understand a large population of americans with this.

I am not recommending you do this in the slightest.. Drugs are inherently evil.

and they glow

AND HOW THE FUCK DO I ADVERTISE MY BLOG?!

Google searches?

Turn on the light

Okay so my blog is growing bit by bit, surely by surely. I am now linked in one other person's blog, a person who is crazy. Lovely, I can't seem to get away from my own people. Hopefully you are not crazy as you are reading this and enjoying it for what it is, writing that you enjoy.

I wonder if someone has done a map of the blogiverse. Maybe a pie chart. 15% of the Blogiverse are English Majors trying to get a deal. Coming in with a modest 17% are recipe blogs. The average age of a "Look at my party!" blogger is 16-22. The statistics of what gets posted to the blogiverse in a single day will average 36% bad poetry.

I need blog stats so I can start my revolution.

When your eyes speak to me they are saying tell me more. I can do no wrong.

Okay, adsense is set up. I didn't want to click that I wouldn't click my own ads, because if I am talking about guitars and I see a sweet ad for a guitar, I am going to click it, but I had to say I wouldn't do it anyway, and that is is prohibited. Quite possibly they are not going to find out if I click one of my ads every now and then.

Another thing was copyrighted material. I want them selling copyrighted material on my blog. If I am talking about Camus and Absurdism I want them selling the Myth of Sissiphus.

I use profanity, but I am sure it is not excessive profanity.

I do not make racial comments. Well sometimes I will say things like black people eat a lot of chicken, but everbody already knows that, it is not a racist comment. I would be just kidding if I said that there are a lot of black people in jail. The joke is that there are a lot of white people in jail too. But there are a lot of black people in jail.

Holy shit I am going to get in trouble because I am making a joke about their being a lot of black people in jail. No! I mean, there is not a lot of black people in jail, it is funny to pretend that there is.

Oh my god I am going to hell.

Man, everything will be pretty sweet though, with these ads. If I find them gay, or distracting I'll get rid of them, but the day I am selling Britney Spears new album is going to be a happy day for this blog.

Jasper told me not to worry, all is well, and that he died.

I am going to run adsense on my website, not for money, I probably won't set that up, but to see what the fuck kind of advertising would apply to what I talk about.

We have breached the network.

I am on facebook and myspace if you want to add me. Myspace is DocRokken. I don't know how you're supposed to find my facebook.

I like the anonymous readers who read my blog. I do not know if I want old friends of mine to read my blog because, even though it is super cool, I broadcast on the front page THE LIFE AND TIMES OF A SCHIZOPHRENIC and that might be a shock to some people. If you think that my blog is worth it for my friends to know about, drop a comment.

Anthromotivation and morphology and the ever after

Oh also my friend Miles who is really good on the drums, and plays to my music style pretty well, and I play with him really well, we definely have a connection in this sense, we've been jamming with other people, just getting jam sessions going on, and they have been going good. Played an improptu session with this chick on a fiddle and she liked it very much. She plays at bars and shit and says we are good enough for that. Fucking sweet.

The helpless fallen and slain

Here is something cool. Everyone I meet and become friends with thinks I am the most intelligent person that they have met. I am starting to meet more intelligent people then regular people, and I'm meeting more people that are like me in different ways. Everything is going pretty gravy on the social scene. I am putting together groups of diverse friends. As a schizophenic, I have to work hard on my social skills, and all of my trial and error over the semester is paying off. I am meeting cooler and cooler people who really dig me. The girls find me interesting. Fucking sweet.

Also, I have been working on my blog, and I am getting readers, not a lot of comments except for the HoB crew giving advice, but so far two people have commented on liking my blog, and one person called it brilliant.

All of my hard work trying to improve myself is paying off.

I just got down playing a guy at texas hold em, who has played for more than a year three times a week, and I beat him, with hardly any real experience under my belt. I just spent a lot of time thinking about each move, and then made good choices. While I was playing, I was asking him questions about how to play, and what I was thinking with my moves, and he agreed with me a lot and says "You're a poker player."

I will post some more good stuff later on tonight. I wanted to include this article I read on my favorite messageboard about how whether time slows down for you during times of crisis. Has a small tie in to schizophrenia, and I'll tell you about time stops. You are reading this now, after you have already read it. Backwardsology about to commence.

I am proud of the backward nature of my blog.

And so it began.

If you have a blog, I would like to put your blog on my page if it is any good. Who am I kidding, if you put me on yours, I will put you on mine. When I figure out how. Just leave a comment. Or if you know of any really good blogs, just comment on it, I will check it out and include it.

Then we tripped the light fantastic

So in commemoration of the backwards nature of my blogging, I wanted to tell you a backwards joke, but the internet was not too helpful on finding a good backwards joke, so I will tell you this dirty one instead.

A guy walks into a sperm donor bank wearing a ski mask and holding a gun. He goes up to the nurse and demands her to open the sperm bank vault. She says "But sir, its just a sperm bank!", "I don't care, open it now!!!" he replies. So she opens the door to the vault and inside are all the sperm samples. The guy says "Take one of those sperm samples and drink it!", she looks at him "But they are sperm samples!" , "DO IT!". So the nurse sucks it back. "That one there, drink that one as well.", so the nurse drinks that one as well. Finally after 4 samples the man takes off his ski mask and says, "See honey - its not that hard."

Time went flying by, and we laughed.

I keep forgetting that you read these in backwards order, and to me they are sequential. This must make for an odd experience, I appologize. I do not think I will ever remember this.

Jokes kill

I limped heavily all through high school. I had a terrible pain in my leg growing up. When I turned 18 and had an x-ray they had found that my femur had a large tumor in it that had cracked and crumbled. It would break, and I would walk on it, and it would heal twisted, so that my left leg pointed out to the left. I am not lying.

I hung out with people anyway, though I was in constant pain. I did not tell anybody. Nobody knew.

She's back, but with a different perspective.

I will tell you more of my life another day. I am building up to it all. It takes time.

The melting

I can't find it. It is lost to time.

Keeping down the underground - A Tribute

I am older now, and realize drugs for what they are. For a lot of people they are a problem. I do not preach to people, but much like alcohol, drugs make you stupid, and that's about it. I know this is a hard line to take, but the truth of it is is that they alter your conciousness and dumb you down a bit.

Not that things like pot, or ecstacy or acid are really that bad. But there is occasional stupidity and all the time stupidity. You make your choice.

At around 16 I started posting to a comedy website. This was when the internet was still new.

I still know lots of these people and talk to them everyday. I will tell you more about this later. The humor has turned decidedly dark. Make of this what you will.

I met a girl online that lived in Connecticut and I lived in New York. We were "together" all through high school and I saw her whenever I could. I lost my virginity to her. I bought her a promised ring. We were going to get married. I had my father's name and she had my mother's name. We were young, too, like my mother and father were, but I knew that I would not get this girl pregnant for a long time.

There was also another girl in High School that I really liked. Well, there were about three or four girls that I really liked, but this girl I really liked, but I was in a relationship.

In my junior year in High School I started taking a creative writing class. Everybody liked my writing, including this girl. She was there when I read my poem at the coffee house.

Let me tell you a bit about my personality. I like the goofy stuff. I like the funny, light stuff. I also like the dark stuff. I was into the Smashing Pumpkins for christs sake, I liked the good and the bad. I still do, to this day, the interplay between both is incredible. I will get more into this at a later date.

Let me see if I can find one of the poems I read at the coffee house. The best one. Hold on.

Don't think silly of me, I was 17 when I wrote it and thought I had my teeth sunk into a livewire with this.

The breathing that you ran, it has gone away

Let me jump a million years into the future to the time I was 15 or 16 or so. This was about the time my uncle, Dan, introduced me to marijuana.

No, hold on, let me tell you a few things.

My mother was the first person I smoked marijuana with. She told me, when I was younger, that if I ever wanted to try drugs, to come to her first, since I was probably going to try them anyway, so I might as well do it with her initially. Or some such rationale. So I went to her at about 13 and smoked my first joint. Then I drank a glass of wine and had such a giddy fit that I about peed my pants.

I don't smoke weed anymore. I never much did. Well, there were periods in my life where I smoked about once a day for a few months, it depended on my friends. If I was hanging out with weed smokers, I smoked weed. If I was hanging out with non weed smokers, I did not. It was all pretty much the same to me.

But at about 15 or 16 my uncle Dan, who is the same age as me,

hold on, hold on, let me back up for a second, I keep beginning to tell you about this, but then I think of things.

My father and mother were 19 and 18 respectively when they had me. My grandmother was also pregnant at the same time with Dan, he would be my brother that I didn't live with.

Dan went crazy with drinking and drugs and then quit. He is a good man.

Sometimes he has what is called a 'relapse'. You have probably heard of it, when one of your friends or relatives has a relapse. It usually starts when the person says "I will have just some drugs to feel good, and then I will stop!"

But they don't stop. They just keep consuming more and more drugs until they wake up in or out of jail, or someone's house and they are like "What the fuck did I do?" Then they stop again for awhile.

I do not have this problem. I have my own problems.

So Dan introduced me to smoking marijuana with people my own age.

My lord did I make friends! Suddenly I had things in common with a large population of the school.

This was when I was at the teenaged point in my life where I thought drugs were cool. I did something horrible though, while experimenting with drug culture and making friends. There was this kid on my bus that liked me and didn't have a lot of