Always Tired

I am tired of  Earth. These people. I am tired of being caught in the tangle of their lives. Every day their seems to be an issue. Every day their seems to be a problem that we cannot shake off. Every day we tune in and absorb this fake information. We change our feelings without being able to talk about our feelings. We conjure up lies and emotions just to make each other feel okay. We try and pursue happiness where happiness doesn't exist, why?. Why do we continue to move around? Why do we push through adversary? Why do we continue to go to a job we hate? What is the purpose of all of this?

What if the meaning of life is find your true self and to no long hide behind a facade of insecurities? I think humans need to be woken up by hard hitting truths from a loved one that would send them through a spiral of denial until they realise what has happened.

I have not written in a very long time. Well I have but not like this. The old school way of having music loud on my TV whilst I sit on the floor and write my thoughts. Write the bleeding words from my heart. I feel like I have been clogged up with so much to say but no one to say it to. You always listen, don't you? I remember when I used to write here no one knew about this, no one had any idea that behind the fake smile, tattoos, cars and everything else I am, that I am just a scared and fragile man who has built this wall around his brain to keep everything and everyone at bay.

Well what happens when the man in question, my self, is on the verge of loosing everything he has. Does he knock these walls of fear down and allow feelings to come in? 

I am so good at telling everyone else what to do when they ask for advice. Humans come to me when they need advice, they come to me when they are lost and they come to me to talk. But when I need to talk where do I go? I come here.

Here is my blog. I know no one reads these so I feel happy knowing that my thoughts are out there for anyone to read. It's sort of like a letter in a bottle. You know the one? Where sailors will write a letter and put in a bottle and throw it in water. Some never are found and some are found 1 year to 100 years later. This is what this blog feels like.

8:56pm on the 14th of September 2019. Its a Saturday night. I sit here alone whilst my other half is in the shower. Whilst she ponders about me and about what she is doing with me. Sometimes I ask my self the same question, why is she with me? I am damaged goods. I don't need you to feel sorry for me I just need you to see that when I type here the voice in my head stops. When I am alone with music the voice in my head stops. It feels focused on a common goal, now this goal is to finish this and to write how I am feeling at this very moment.

When I am alone I can hear the sounds of my self inside me talking to my self. I built this voice to help me get through my fears. My fears of being alone. I never had anyone to talk to growing up so I spoke to the only person that was always there, my self.

It actually feels so good to write here, it feels like I am helping my self with every letter I write, with every letter I push on my keyboard I feel re aligned.

Let me tell you how it feels like when I am alone, this is the best way to describe it. Get a pen and a paper. Now from the top of the paper draw a line but move the pen from one side of the paper to the other side of the paper till you get a zig-zag sort of line. Now do another line from the opposite side of the paper with the same zig-zag pattern. If you have done this correctly you should have two zig-zag lines overlapping each other. That's how it feels in my head, it feels confused, fuzzy, disjointed and unaligned.

When I write here I feel that the voice in my head and my actual voice are aligned together. They become one. I feel like I am my self. I am not scared to be here. There is no judgement here. Well I am sure there is by some random that is going to read this but heck! what do I care, I don't know them. 

I have never actually explained how it feels to have this voice inside my head. I feel some relief to have actually opened up and explained that.

When I am alone I am scared, I am scared of loss. I am scared of the unknown and even though this whole time you all think I wasn't, that is because of the wall I built to keep the voice at bay.

I need to welcome the fact that I am not sane. I think the big thing for me is knowing I need help but thinking no one can help me except me. I am arrogant to think that anyone out there knows me as well as I know my self and I strongly believe that this is the problem. I am scared of help, I hate to admit that I need help. Because asking for help in some way makes me feel weak, makes me feel that I am not man enough to sort out my own problems.

But what I am being a "man" for? I am no longer single and with the "boys" to have this bravado about me. I know its time for me to change and to no longer hold onto what I am afraid of but to accept it. Accept the fact that its okay to be wrong. Its okay to be scared and its okay to not know it all.

I think also for me I am so ahead a lot of people that I feel when someone says something I dismiss it thinking they know nothing and that I know it all because I have been through so much and that no one can truly understand what I go through every day with the voice in my head.

When that is SO wrong of me. I need to understand and accept the fact that other know more than me and that others will be able to help me. Asking for help isn't weak.

R U OK? I feel so strongly about asking everyone around me that question but I have never stopped and asked my self. I have never looked into my self and tried to sort out my own demons when instead I punish and blame everyone around me which in turn leaves me alone.

A lot of people in my past have said things about me that made me ponder about my flaws and instead of fixing them I became defensive and stubborn and made my self believe that I am right and everyone else around me is an enemy and they are out to get me.

This comes out with tangents of speaking and not making sense, this comes out in ways of my "i don't give a fuck" attitude" and in my persona to other humans.

In fact I give a fuck about a lot of things but I am so scared of admitting it because I feel like I will be judged like less of a man. Crazy aye? I know it is. I know it makes me sound really mentally unstable but I am doing the first thing I think is correct by admitting my faults for the first time in 29 years and now wanting to work towards making my self better. Like fuck me dead I am almost 30, I am not 19 anymore. I have to step up and admit that this voice, my voice has been an issue for me and it has gotten the better of me.

Why though? I have been alone, I mean really alone growing up and this voice helped me. I remember times even when I am with my friends out and about I felt alone. Is this depression? I remember being with them and speaking to my self on the inside thinking about what we are doing at that present time in life. Where are we? Is this what life is? I couldn't help feel sorry for them whilst I was with them. I felt as if they were blind and I was the only one that could see the really issues around us. The real issues that were making the world burn.

Synesthesia - As I write this I have music on. Always when I write I have music on. Not your Katy Perry or Taylor Swift shit I have lo-fi beats on or just beats in general. I feel as the beats progress my writing progresses. You can tell when I get really dramatic in my writing it means the beats have just become really intense and when I get chilled out the beats have mellowed out. I see colours, shapes and stars whenever a 808 kicks, whenever a snare is hit or whenever a drum kick is kicked. I think its amazing I can do all this and all I have to do is close my eyes or even have them opened and just listen.

My other half asked if I wanted a salad. I rejected it. Not because of anything I just have not been hungry today. I might roll up and smoke before I go to sleep but I have barely eaten today. You know the voice feeds on my insides and I feel that when I fast it goes away a bit. I am not feeding the beast.

You know my life humans have gravitated towards me. I have been told that I am special. I have been told that I have a special brain. I know I do and I know that I am. I just cannot be alone because when I am alone as you now know it is not good for me mentally.

Do you think I will look back at this post years from now and reminisce about how I was feeling at the time. Smoking on what I just rolled making me feel healed. Allowing me to cope and write for the very first time in this house just like I used to. High, Music and a computer. Writing my thoughts, writing the pain that is inside me. The pain of living with a voice inside that does't know when to stop. You know I came up with a little rhyme that went like:

"You don't know what goes on up in here (Points to side of head, I smoke all this weed to silence the voices you don't hear"

As I have explained to you before about why I write. Now let me explain to you why I smoke.

I feel that rhyme is the best way to describe why I smoke the reefer. Why combine the both because to me this is pure medicine. Add lo fi beats in the background and I feel like I have a cure. I have not done this in so long that I have been feeling so out of it. You see now next few days I will be 100% fine. No anger, No attitude, No arrogance, No arguments. Until I have to write again. I am going to make this a habit to continue to do this. I am sorry I think this past year has been crazy for you and me and the voice inside. I didn't know that I can actually go sit alone in a room and just type. I always thought I had to be "Around" you know. I feel like cause of you showing me that its okay to do me that i actually can now.

Listen baby, I know you will more than likely read this without me telling you anything, fuck well I hope you do. I know its rough being with me, always with me, always around me. I know its tough. Trust me I do. I know I have said all this before and now your thinking "fuck here we go again" but look at all this I just wrote. I don't even know if half it makes sense its just my rambles. Now ask your self will a sane man do what I just did? Say what I just said and write what i just wrote. The way i wrote.

Know this and know it whatever or forever here's hoping its the latter. I dont love you. I adore you. I am devoted to you. I think the world of you. 

Think it aint true?
Well, fuck let me show you.


Written with Sarah Jordan in mind and heart.



ibzzie xx

Melancholy

If this is a timeline of whenever we fight you would see that it happens once every few months. Some say this is normal other will say it is not normal. Some will blame it on her some will blame it on me. She will blame it on her time of the month and I will blame it on my mood elevations.

I am dressed smartly today. I will go sit on the bench and stare into the heads. I will watch The Nieuw Holland sail through. 

Do I own this life to take it? If i don't take it who will?

Why is my condition not looked at with prevalence. Am I not suffering just as you are? Why can't you not do what you do on the back of what is happening inside me?

Maybe because mines isn't diagnosed or is mines just a joke condition that isn't taken seriously. Maybe I should go get a paper from the men in white coats to prove to you that I have what I have and I am not lying or exaggerating or making assumptions or being passive aggressive or playing the victim or speaking with tone or being rude or being condescending or making you feel like little or making you feel like a maid or doing little things that you think other wise or anything else I have missed. Maybe with a paper from them you will understand the seriousness of this.

Or maybe when its all gone you will notice then. Maybe when good is gone you will realise what you had.

Always that about this place for many years but have kept it at bay. I have never been there as I am scared I will not return. I heard it calls your name when you are there for those that feel the way I do. I have been told these voices are of those that have left from there. I have been told there are letters engraved into the seats, walls and tables there of their last words.

I have been told that there is something creepy about that place but I have never been. I have been too scared. But now I ask what am i scared of?

Whatever will be, will be. 

I am inevitable...

Binaural

So I am here again. This isn't my town anymore as you know I have broken free from that. I think I have have become a lot better with my self. I feel that I have changed for the better.

Sometimes I see through humans. Sometimes I can feel what they are going to say before they say it. Sometimes I can feel their breath as if it was my own.

I have been told before that I have a special mind, not by one person but a few. Do people not see that now? Has time changed so much and has social media killed our views to see what is special?

I know I am different, not just by the way I dress, act or talk. Not even by my skin colour or beard but with the way my brain works, with the way I think and the way i articulate my self.

In Chinese philosophy, yin and yang is a concept of dualism in ancient Chinese philosophy, describing how seemingly opposite or contrary forces may actually be complementary, interconnected, and interdependent in the natural world, and how they may give rise to each other as they interrelate to one another.

You see instead of spending five to ten minutes explaining/arguing something to another party as to why you don't want do something maybe save time, save energy and save peacefulness by saying "If it means that much to you then I will do it".

My brain waves are different to other people. The memories I have and keep are different from other people. I can feel a memory that I know never has happened because it is impossible to live in Space but I remember being there I feel like it was real. Maybe in my past life my soul lived there and now I am remembering it through my human self.

I have always asked the question as to why Seven Billion of us are here. Why do we need to exist? If we stopped existing wouldn't Earth survive without us? I think it would be even better.

My brain hurts at times, my heart hurts also but I know my soul isn't hurting because hurt is a physical feeling that can only be felt physically.

One day my soul will leave this body and will find a resting place. I will finally see those souls that have left here again and become one with them again.

The when of life is a fascinating thing. The unknown of living, what will be of tomorrow or the day after. No one knows but the future does exist and if the future is as real as the present then surely it is a place that we can get to.

One day, I know this will make sense but for now I will wait and continue to wait to see what happens.

Because we are here for a reason and whatever that reason might be the answer doesn't necessarily have to be on Earth.

The answer might be at where we came from. I think we should look to where we came from to answer why we are here.

How do we get to where we came from? To take what has been given to us to be here in the first place, this is life.

Not taking suicide nor taking death but allowing it to natural occur once our organisms expire.

Once they do we will know the truth.


ibzzie xx

revolution

What have you become? Today in 2019. This is the most amazing time to be alive, but I ask again, what have you become?

You sit at a table before with food in front of you and before you say grace, fuck it even if you don't believe in God, you no longer stare at your food and wonder what you are going to eat, think about where it came from and what it is going to do to you once you eat it. You instead pull out an extension of yourselves and start to take photos and with the same device you send messages and make phone calls to you friends who are nowhere near us. You discuss whether the photo looks good and then you send it to platforms, so the world can see. After all this is done you then consume the food.

You stare into a little eye on this device swiping left and right finding a filter that makes you look better and then when you find this filter you will just stare into it play with your hair, blink and smile. After this you then send it to a platform so the whole world can see.

What are you? What have you contributed to society? Are you becoming dumber as a race? Are there going to be any more professors, scientists or inventors?

You have declined into what? No more respect amongst any of you, regardless of race or gender it has all gone.

You base judgements on someone depending on their likes, followers and popularity amongst the others of you based on artificial feelings towards one another, can you not see that this is not real? That these likes, feelings, red love hearts and blue thumbs are fake. They do not exist in the real world or are you already becoming one with the fake world, one with the artificial world. I can see you becoming artificial intelligence.

What if this is what is going to happen? What if you do not build artificial intelligence but become them? Turning into them over years and years of using them that they will consume you and then eventually turn you into A.I. The battle will then break out against those whom have yet to turn and those who have turned.

What if all those zombie movies you watch that have humans “turning” into monsters is happening now? In the movies all the zombies have a common goal which is to eat brains and kill humans. What if you are a zombie now feeding off the likes of others which in turns give you energy in the form of dopamine.

What have you become? How have you transformed from hunters and gatherers that use their bodies the way it was meant to be used but now you have become a new form a being.

An Artificial Being…

ibzzie xx