What's the topic?
Improving this blog "Desolate and Full of Yearning" (DAFOY).
What is the blog about?
Why should I write it and continue to maintain it?
Is it benefitting me to write this or is it leading myself into thinking traps because I just think like that
Thoughts
DAFOY is lacking is actual substance material; I'm not re-reading my posts like I always do when I come back to this but I can recall its filled with myself bitching about being lonely and fat.
Surprisingly this isn't the only topic I talk about, just one that I feel comfortable talking about without sources and cites because I need to justify myself usually. I might have to forgo that to ensure that what I start typing will actually have words on it. Topics I can and should be talking about:
Nazi's and WW2 History; I make references to historical events from this in everyday conversation.
Illegal Drugs and the Drug War, particularly in reference to psychedelics and their potential therapeutic uses. I tend to talk people's ears off with this.
Canada's Health System (Previous Nursing Student, Currently in Health Information Management) I like Healthcare. I might have to do projects on certain topics anyways.
Exercise and Fitness, after being away from serious attempts to maintain active living I'd like to go back and research it again for some posts more seriously and hopefully kick my butt into gear again.
Gaming and Misc; I can't think of something else right now so maybe stories about myself playing games. or specific funny events.
So then...?
I must return to DAFOY with a specific topic in mind (more specific than "Nazis", example being "Operation Sealion").
I should have read up on the topic before hand so that I can type fluently and with ease.
Limit the number of references to yourself (i.e. stop using "I").
Hopefully all of this will improve the quality of writing produced here by DAFOY.
Smoke weed everyday.
Friday, 22 January 2016
Sunday, 31 May 2015
Freeform
I was staring at this page for about 5 minutes before typing this trying to think of what to say; I no longer want the/this blog to be essentially me rambling without a point...despite this post being exactly that...again...
Once again I sit here, drinking, typing, talking and thinking to myself. An echo chamber.
No new thoughts come in, no ideas expanded on in meaningful ways. I begin to realize I need people in my life to develop.
The idea that I dislike or hate most people erupts from the veins in my mind; most people end up ignoring me or passing off my words without listening... I imagine scenarios of me giving a solution to closed ears only for someone else to eventually land at the same conclusion and thus gain the credit. This happens frequently.
The more time I've spent on this Earth, the more I've seemingly disliked my existence as horrible as that is to say. I've tried to keep at least a kernel of hope alive within myself by I fear the time is coming when my hope is lost...and I'm truly in the wind.
Shit has hit the fan...and its not even mine.
As the days dwindle in numbers and the darkness crawls closer I draw up sadistic plans in my head; the past days have been filled with combat footage and hate-fueled propaganda. I realize what this does to the psyche. I built up rage against people who have not wronged me; in reality, no one has wronged me only myself. Which is why I hate myself.
I've been trying to inject myself into the system for mental health help...its not exactly effective. My clinical days remind me how I would have reacted...to myself even, I would have done the same hearing myself. I sound like a fucking lunatic in person now I'm so isolated.
I'd ring peoples necks to get them to hear me, to listen, converse; and at the same time I want nothing to deal with them.
What the hell is this foil shit, humans are supposed to be social, that's why everyone else is social. Isn't that why I type on this wall in the hopes someone will eventually stumble upon (honestly unintentional plug) it. Seriously, jesus christ I was about the fucking berate myself again....in my head, typing it on this wall fuck me.
Back to the point (what was that?). I'm pretty sure I'm crazy...in some way, or just...not a productive member of society? My self worth is essentially nothing at this point; I was willing to get a gun and join whatever cause came first. Preferably a violent uprising within Canada against the government (fully unlikely unless some terrible economic shit hit to make people lose jobs).
My loss of hope for the future, or atleast my preferred vision of it (...you know, not homeless and dying) stems obviously from the tattered remains of my plans for a future. I'm drifting in the wind, rocked by the shattered realization that I should have probably killed myself 5 years ago to spare myself the pain of these past 5 years. Nothing has gotten better and everything has gotten worse. Quite literally from the day I was born both for myself and my family.
I hate this world and this society. I want a gun a cause and people to shoot if only to feel alive for a few minutes before my view goes black.
God this is grim.
I'm hopeless, but Alive.
Once again I sit here, drinking, typing, talking and thinking to myself. An echo chamber.
No new thoughts come in, no ideas expanded on in meaningful ways. I begin to realize I need people in my life to develop.
The idea that I dislike or hate most people erupts from the veins in my mind; most people end up ignoring me or passing off my words without listening... I imagine scenarios of me giving a solution to closed ears only for someone else to eventually land at the same conclusion and thus gain the credit. This happens frequently.
The more time I've spent on this Earth, the more I've seemingly disliked my existence as horrible as that is to say. I've tried to keep at least a kernel of hope alive within myself by I fear the time is coming when my hope is lost...and I'm truly in the wind.
Shit has hit the fan...and its not even mine.
As the days dwindle in numbers and the darkness crawls closer I draw up sadistic plans in my head; the past days have been filled with combat footage and hate-fueled propaganda. I realize what this does to the psyche. I built up rage against people who have not wronged me; in reality, no one has wronged me only myself. Which is why I hate myself.
I've been trying to inject myself into the system for mental health help...its not exactly effective. My clinical days remind me how I would have reacted...to myself even, I would have done the same hearing myself. I sound like a fucking lunatic in person now I'm so isolated.
I'd ring peoples necks to get them to hear me, to listen, converse; and at the same time I want nothing to deal with them.
What the hell is this foil shit, humans are supposed to be social, that's why everyone else is social. Isn't that why I type on this wall in the hopes someone will eventually stumble upon (honestly unintentional plug) it. Seriously, jesus christ I was about the fucking berate myself again....in my head, typing it on this wall fuck me.
Back to the point (what was that?). I'm pretty sure I'm crazy...in some way, or just...not a productive member of society? My self worth is essentially nothing at this point; I was willing to get a gun and join whatever cause came first. Preferably a violent uprising within Canada against the government (fully unlikely unless some terrible economic shit hit to make people lose jobs).
My loss of hope for the future, or atleast my preferred vision of it (...you know, not homeless and dying) stems obviously from the tattered remains of my plans for a future. I'm drifting in the wind, rocked by the shattered realization that I should have probably killed myself 5 years ago to spare myself the pain of these past 5 years. Nothing has gotten better and everything has gotten worse. Quite literally from the day I was born both for myself and my family.
I hate this world and this society. I want a gun a cause and people to shoot if only to feel alive for a few minutes before my view goes black.
God this is grim.
I'm hopeless, but Alive.
Wednesday, 14 May 2014
Drugs - Mystical Vision Quests and sailing on the high seas of a collapsing mind.
Watching myself fall apart is not fun; re-reading the same pep talks from days long past is not fun; realizing I have achieved nothing but failure is not fun.
For those who do not actually know me in person I am enthusiastic about drugs, specifically psychedelics and the promising research that was emerging during the 60's. New research is underway and is being supported by the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Science (MAPS - http://www.maps.org/, seriously go buy some merch as profits go towards more research). Some studies suggested that the psychedelic experience enables a more effective working relationship and better therapy sessions to occur afterwards.
For those who do not actually know me in person I am enthusiastic about drugs, specifically psychedelics and the promising research that was emerging during the 60's. New research is underway and is being supported by the Multidisciplinary Association for Psychedelic Science (MAPS - http://www.maps.org/, seriously go buy some merch as profits go towards more research). Some studies suggested that the psychedelic experience enables a more effective working relationship and better therapy sessions to occur afterwards.
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