vaevictis abomination

I don’t understand why people worship celebrities?

It is one thing if you idolize a musician, a writer, an artist, as they have created something which you relate to and which inspires you. There are also a few remaining free thinking actors and film makers who fit into this criteria. 

But vapid, ridiculously aesthetic and flawless celebrities who do nothing but pose in front of a camera all day reciting lines, being a show pony for marketing by promoting brands and products which they make look appealing so you purchase it. Hollywood is so unsubstantial. Essentially what you see is what you get, beyond the flawless facade it is an empty and barren wasteland. Yet millions of people fall for the glamorous masquerade, so many people buy their magazines and read their trashy tabloids and watch the melodramatic, illusory and unrealistic television shows and movies. 

For what? So your entire life is a perpetual letdown? So you constantly adhere to unrealistic expectations set by the media? So you are made to feel inadequate?

Why give them the power? Why not create something of yourself instead of fueling the fire governed by the archetype of the celebrity? Cut the ties that bind you to society and free your mind. Turn off the television, throw away the glossy, gossip magazines and open a book instead, start a journal and write down all your thoughts. Meditate. Reflect. Pursue your interests. Make a ‘celebrity’ out of yourself and your creations. Abandon the ship of mindless fools drowning in an array of advertising and deception and learn to think for yourself. Don’t be the puppet for somebody else. 

My mood is oscillating rapidly right now. The only difference is now I actually observe and notice these rapid mood swings, rather than succumb to them.

Okay I feel abandoned and suicidal. I want to curl up into the fetal position and die. But do I really have to slash up my arms or take a handful of pills? Do I have to punish myself? No. I can punish myself with a five kilometer run or 2 hours of yoga instead, at least I am helping nourish my body and enhancing my fitness. There is purpose and meaning in the suffering. 

Other people trigger me immensely, so my solution for that is to cut out other people until I find people who are not going to drain me emotionally, use me, bring me down or stab me in the back. This is not avoidance. This is essential for my sanity and for my emotional well-being. I cannot disconnect myself from others or put myself at a safe distance, I feel their pain strongly. The only way is to say goodbye. 

I can never change another person, only they can change themselves. I spent so long holding onto relationships that were poisonous in the hope that I could change them and alter their perspective due to some idealistic notion I beheld. Sure, I can try to help other people, but at the end of the day only they can change themselves. They must reach their own conclusions, I cannot do that for them. 

This is it. This is the solitude I sought to avoid for so long. I am surrendering to the abyss, opening the doorways into the unconscious and exploring the recesses of my mind. I destroyed myself, thoroughly. Now I must find myself. 

If I have said goodbye to you over the previous months, please don’t take it personally. Our paths merely do not align right now. 

You won’t mysteriously wake up one morning cured from a mental illness, it doesn’t work that way. Life is a battle. Every single day for the remainder of your life is going to be a battle, a fight not only against yourself but also the remainder of society.

But you have to treasure and appreciate the little things about life and savor them, separate yourself from the consensus and reinvent yourself in alignment to your heart’s desire and the will of your soul.

You are here, you are alive, you are breathing. Feel the oxygen rejuvenate your lungs. Feel the sunshine radiating warmth upon your skin. This is it. There is no supreme epiphany awaiting realisation. There is no masqueraded savior coming to rescue you from the despair that swallows you alive. 

If you feel like you’re wandering around this planet aimlessly, then it is your mission to create meaning in the meaningless, vacant void of the abyss. Discover your passion and pursue it relentlessly. Why are we enslaved upon this prison planet? It seems utterly meaningless, I know. I fucking get it. Life is a cruel joke. People are stupid and callous. The system is so fucking wrong, and mental illness is often a byproduct of a sick and twisted society. Suicide seems like the logical solution, but it isn’t. 

You have two choices, one is to take the easy way out and sit around locked up in your room, consumed by apathy as you experience your life vicariously through a t.v/computer screen/media. This is what they want. This turns you into a mindless consumer.

The second is to find your will for being here and use your negative experiences, your pain, your discomfort and your suffering to empower you to actually change the world and make your voice heard. Channel your agony into something constructive. Promote change. Melancholy is your inner voice telling you that something isn’t right in your life, something is pestering your unconscious and something needs to be addressed and dealt with, something needs to change. So fucking listen.

So reflect. Be introspective. Exercise that little organ between your ears. Write. Contemplate reality. Pose questions to the universe. Look up at the sky. Go and lose yourself in the depths of a forest. Stand on the beach listening to the waves crash until time becomes irrelevant. Write. Listen to music. Create music. Paint. Run until you collapse. Create. Fucking find yourself, create yourself. 

I destroyed myself with drugs and self destruction because I was disfigured by the trauma I have endured throughout my life. I lost everything, including my will to live and my ambition. I wandered aimlessly devoid of purpose. Longing for death to swallow me and annihilate my being. I begged and prayed for death to eat me up, but after hours and hours spent tumbling through the depths of the abyss drowning in my despair, I finally realised I was god, and life was only going to be what I created it to be. 

‘Every man and woman is a star’ - Crowley. 

Nothing is going to change if we all just sit here being obedient little consumers watching the powers that be dictate and destroy our lives. They thrive upon your passivity; they thrive upon your inaction.

What are you good at? What are your passions? What fuels your fire? What drives you?

Make a creation from your pain and find meaning in the midst of the suffering. 

I CANNOT WRITE. 

I CANNOT WRITE. 

I CANNOT WRITE. 

This is a mortal dilemma. I used to effortlessly utter spirals of rhythm and rhyme, without thought my pen would automatically graze the paper leaving in its wake a trail of eloquent composition. Now I struggle to construct a simplistic, sequential sentence, my mind is blank and my inspiration to write is nullified. 

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I don’t know why I’m here or what my purpose is.

I don’t know why I am alive or why I haven’t given into the enticing enthrall of the cavernous abyss yet.

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I would rather stay in on a Friday night practicing yoga, meditating, drinking tea, writing and reading books.
I would prefer to spend every Friday night for eternity doing this rather than going out and mindlessly socializing, drinking until inebriation and being harassed by sleazy men desperate to stick their dick into any hole they can find.
I am not going to be ashamed of my desire for solitude anymore. There is nothing to be ashamed about. I don’t particularly like people, I don’t like societal expectations and I definitely don’t enjoy drinking alcohol. This is how I spend my weekends, and that is perfectly okay.

Write this essay or kill myself?
Go to that appointment, or kill myself?
Get out of bed, shower, dress; endure the monotony of the daily grind, or kill myself?
Answer this call, or kill myself?
Walk to the corner store to feed myself or starve to death instead?
Reply to that message, and kill myself in anticipation of the reply.

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I can not get over how divine Tool’s performance was last night…
I finally saw them in the flesh and it was beautiful.
Immaculate and haunting melodies echo through my mind, liberating my spirit.
That is what amazing music does, it liberates one’s spirit and frees one’s mind, it devours your soul, transcending space and time.
Through all the trials and tribulations, the vast evolution of my soul from the sordid depths of rock bottom, to the incline I am currently progressing, Tool have been there whispering words of wisdom in my ear, ensuring I continue forth.

It wasn’t as though I was standing in a room with tens of thousands of other people last night, I was a million miles away, at one with the music. Allowing the music to captivate and consume body, spirit and mind.

Embracing solitude, I have been postponing the decision to enter the darkness of my soul for long enough now.

I am actually ready to give up on men and sex for a long time.

There will be no validation, no incessant stream of attention and that will be okay.

I will be okay. I don’t need a male to be worthwhile. I need to focus 100% on healing my own wounds right now.

It is time for confrontation with the darkness that flows just beneath my flesh, it is time to face up to the shadows that spill forth from the insatiable black hole in my soul. 

The demons have emerged from my unconscious, there is nowhere left to hide now, it is either confront or be consumed. I can no longer repress the darkness, I can no longer medicate, fuck or slash their presence to oblivion. They are here, pleading for release, and no self depreciating coping mechanism will save me now. 

No pill, no blade, no man, no delusion of salvation or mode of escapism can conquer the force that ravages my insides. 

I must face up and embrace the darkness, and allow the full fury of anguish, guilt, humiliation and despair to run through my veins, I must sit with this burden without denying or repressing it, I must acknowledge the darkness that lingers within. 

There is nowhere left to hide, no where left to run. 

Don’t fuck with me or I will annihilate you. I will burn you alive with the venom I spit. 

People just don’t fuck with me okay. I have been fucked with enough. 

I allowed people to walk all over me for years when I existed in a state of medicated apathy and it resolved nothing, now I am back with a vengeance ready to obliterate anybody who stands in my way. 

I am not going to hold back anything, for anybody. Unrestrained and uninhibited emotions and raw honesty are what you’re going to get from me, those who cannot handle this can get the fuck out.

I really need to work on rebuilding my confidence and assertiveness.

I have absolutely NO sense of confidence right now, part of the reason I am such a lost soul devoid of purpose and hope I suppose. 

I completely underestimate myself in every situation I find myself in. 

I used to have so much confidence, some would say too much. I used to be so sure of my abilities and I would know exactly what I wanted, I would tell people what I thought without a care in the world and now it has all dissipated into loneliness and self doubt. 

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I am honestly contemplating moving far, far away from Sydney and moving to an isolated, rural area or a farm overlooking the ocean with a lot of animals to keep me company. 

I don’t need these toxic people.

I don’t need the exponential chaos this turbulent city has to offer. 

It would be blissful to be immersed within the serenity of nature. Or constantly on the move from one place to the next, never staying situated in one place for long. 

My soul is restless and craves adventure. 

I no longer care for this city nor do I have any attachment to the people who inhabit it. It is a haven for vacant and mindless consumers. Sure, Sydney was fun while my party years lasted, a sanctuary for synthetic chemicals and inebriated adventures, but now those days are over, what is the point in staying? This place yields too many negative memories. 

I want to travel, and explore the world, meeting like minded souls upon the way who share my viewpoint. I cannot stay here for much longer, drowning within this spiritually nullified society of vapid conformists, no way is that an option. 

Once I have accumulated a small amount of savings to my name, I am gone. 

Looking back on the writing I produced while under the influence of various psychedelic substances, I wholly identify with the monotony of human existence, and although I am sober now when reminded, I re-emerge with the mindset influenced by the mind altering compounds I ingested. I often wonder, if I hadn’t of ingested an array of psychedelics at the uninhibited age of sixteen, seventeen, would I still be ensured with this perception?

We are nothing but a self aware virus, replicating constantly and mercilessly annihilating our host, the Earth in the process. 

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My therapist said I can message or call her anytime I feel triggered, but I am terrified of doing that due to immense fear of rejection, so instead I am just going to sit here and ruminate, while planning my relapse, I am trying to organise some MDMA pills and manipulate my old amphetamine supplier into giving me speed for ‘study’ purposes.

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