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Today is July 21, 2013. I am alive and well.

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Would I really tell you I wasn’t well if I wasn’t. Yes. Guaranteed. So, let’s talk about breakfast. I once had a friend tell me that he treated himself with a Frappacino every morning, and doing this helped get him out of bed in the morning. Well, I have a plain bagel smothered in butter and sugar free orange marmalade! I love it and look forward to it. Oh, and of course there is always coffee. Always coffee.

Excerpt

In the psychosis of a dark mind, strong lights shouldn’t have to stay dim. This has been a challenge for my prescribing psychiatrists; they have to lessen my impaired thinking without squelching the fire within that drives me. Often times, I think medication prevents me from writing at the depth I wish to write. I have to be reminded that I can’t write at all when claimed by psychosis. I don’t envy the doctors’ positions. I’m just glad that, over the years, I have had doctors that really listen to me, who don’t want to medicate me to numbness, but seek to allow vitality to burn free, also.

Today is July 15, 2013. I am alive and well.

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So, the six books I brought home on blogging, word press, and tweeter remain un-cracked. I want to be able to rest my hand on the cover and retrieve all the information there is to retrieve. Wouldn’t that be a great thing if we could just touch and know. If we could touch and know all there is to know about a person in one meeting, the excitement would be ruined. Getting to know a person slowly can be savored. Many meetings over coffee! Bummer to learn you don’t like the person; hopefully it is a mutual dislike so no one gets hurt and there are no nagging text messages. Must say though, it has been along time since i spent time with someone I dislike, or grew to dislike. Sweet. Below is another excerpt from Mind WIthout a Home.

In here are people prepared to help me let go of the agitation of tight pants, slip me into cotton, the cotton a dream state where for miles my mind can jog softly down the freeways of other worlds and not be hurt or standing in the world of 2 a.m. at the edge of a cliff wanting to jump, knowing I could fly if gravity would just stay still for a minute. Dream of sleep, then jump, always to float in the safety of the subconscious. It is waking that is the challenge. My body caught in the sensation of life, twisted this evening into a knotted string of twine.