was cutting some hand shapes for a painting
and don’t even want to count how many times during these days I freaked out a little when some dark hand silhouette looked at me from some corner where I dropped it
or how many times I walked around the room saying “where is my hand?!” and “where did my hand go?!”
a theatre of one without the audience

the literature that makes a point to tell people of evil (and other disgusting things) that exists can’t attract me…
because we already know that evil exists
what it needs to be telling is that evil can be dealt with, destroyed or overturned

and overall, I prefer to read about things I want more in my life, than about those I don’t really want to exist in it at all

found this going around the Internet once
Reasons for admitting women into an asylum:

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I find a few other points also interesting.

Menstrual deranged?
Over action of the mind?
Tobacco and masturbation?
Bad whiskey?
Excitement as officer?
Time of life?

Might be a fun idea to count how many of them I currently match.

(Also, when I read ‘congestion of brain’ I always imagine something less ‘stroke’ and more ‘constipation inside the head’ for some reason… )

 

 

I wanted to start this sentence with ‘people who know me will know’, and then realized that yeah, those might exists only in my head, so…

Let’s try again.

What I wanted to say is that while I’m generally very anti-drug and anti-addiction by my nature (this being that something that I would expect people who know me know), as in I couldn’t get into a habitual use of anything even if I tried, and I have no desire to try what so ever (and I had more than enough chances to in the past, with smoking and people prescribing me easy-to-hooked-on drugs), sometimes I genuinely get scared of getting addicted to painkillers, just from the way it feels when they finally start working on the days when I wake up with a head-splitting headache that almost has me in tears when I can’t get in under control for three hours… And then when the painkillers finally work and I want to start crying for an entirely different reason, it feels so good that it’s the only time in my life when I can sort of understand why would someone get addicted to it.

Though, probably worth mentioning, the medicine I take is the very mild one and proper from a normal local drug store, and I’ve never actually seen the ‘funny’ sort of painkillers they often show in American tv-dramas. It’s just gets a little scary when the few hours I get on the combination of painkillers and some sweet latte is the best I feel these days.