I Wonder What It’s Like To Be Normal If Anyone Normal Really Exists And If They Do, What Does It Feel

you can only reblog this today

Systematic

Tell me that

You’ve never seen a system with a crack

That however improbable

And however small

Someone fell down

And wasn’t welcomed back up.

Because only so many times

Can the nail be hammered

Before the wood begins to warp

And only so long

Can the earthquake go on

Before the ground begins to fail.

System failure, system failure

Throw the dying ones a rope

But cut off their hands before you do

Or this systematic failure could be fixed.

Tell me how you’ve never seen

Someone fall and fall and fall

Down a hole so deep

It swallowed them up

Never to be noticed again.

Letters on a paper

Ruining lives

Laws for people

Who have never been seen.

System failure, system failure

The hammer keeps on hitting

So cut off their hands

And keep shaking their world

So the systematic failure can thrive.

this hurts my soul in indescribable ways

a writing competition i was going to participate in again this year has announced that they now allow AI generated content to be submitted

their reasoning being that "we couldn't ban it even if we wanted to, every writer already uses it anyway"

"Every writer"?

come on

guys. I can't tone.

Envy

They got it, 

So why can't I?

How come they automatically get it?

And I have to work so hard for mine.

They just did that one thing,

And all that opportunity came their way,

What about me?

I sit here struggling.

Fighting for pennies,

Fighting to be heard,

Fighting for peace,

And alI I seem to get is brick walls and resistance.

I don't want to be them,

I don't actually like them,

I don't actually want their lives.

But I want the same opportunities,

I want those doors to open for me,

I want that ease that I witness in them.

I hate my life.

I openly reject it.

Victimising myself to anyone who will listen,

Playing the blame game to deflect my ownership,

Proudly accepting sympathy for my shortcomings,

I have dug this ugly, defensive hole that I sit in. 

But the truth is,

That we are all blessed in our own way,

We all have experiences in good & bad,

We all  have moments of right and wrong,

We all have ways of not seeing the positives over the negatives.

What is one's person ease,

Is the other persons hardship,

What one person's hard work,

Is another person's cup of tea,

What is your walk in the park,

Is another person's walk through the trenches.

We all have our own struggles,

We all have our own point of pain,

This is just mine,

And I'm sure you have yours,

We are not any better than each other,

We are all just humans having our own human experience.

Envy is a bitch.

A cruel deadly sin that lurks within,

Eating away at our love for each other, 

Creating barriers of the haves and have nots, 

Identifying where we hold lack inside.

But envy can also be a catalyst for change.

Creating inspiration,

Evoking aspiration,

Driving up our determination,

Making us want it more.

What is their victory,

Is also my possibilities,

If they can do it,

So can I.

They got it with such ease,

Imagine what I'll receive if I actually try?

I put my all into it,

Bending backwards,

Beg, borrow & steal,

Determined to claim what is mine.

I achieve my goal, 

I receive my glory,

I stand tall in my victory,

The evidence of all my hard work.

But soon that day will come,

Where others will see my success,

Oblivious to my journey,

Unaware of my set-backs,

Unconscious of my struggles.

Where is mine, they will say?

When do I get my chance?

How come they got it so easily?

And the truth is that,

What goes around comes around, 

The endless cycle of the human condition.

We notice the similar tone,

We witness the familiar themes,

We recognise the signs of envy.

^ actual blessing of a post

Today in therapy I learned the term double bookkeeping and everything makes much more sense now

“Double bookkeeping is a term introduced by Eugen Bleuler to describe a fundamental feature of schizophrenia where psychotic reality can exist side by side with shared reality even when these realities seem mutually exclusive.”

This is why I can know I’m schizophrenic and still believe my delusions. My psychosis is its own separate reality where everything is possible. Logic doesn’t apply there, I’m unreal, my reality is unreal so unreal things can happen. I know it’s physiologically impossible and implausible, I know it’s a symptom of psychosis and not an experience I share with most of the world, but it’s still real to me

Do any other schizospec folk experience this?

dear gods the world does NOT need a Cult of the Lamb x 40K crossover. Noooo thank you the lamb is already a menace without the chaos gods

combine your first real fandom with your current one to create a terrible, terrible au

The Way I've Learned To Live

The way I’ve learned to live

Isn’t what I ever expected

When I was little and the world

Still held all the beauty I had needed.

I’ve learned about myself

In ways I hadn’t ever guessed

Were even possible for me.

The way I’ve learned to live

Is preservation above all

Keep my sanity and my life

My heart and my soul.

But oh, I’m losing it

I’m losing this careful hold

Every time I bite back words

I know I need to say.

The way I’ve learned to live

Is to stay silent when others think

That I am like them, because safety is in numbers

My hands are bleeding from the painful grip I have

The only thing suspending me

From falling down and down.

The way I’ve learned to live

Is preservation above all

Keep my heart and my soul

My sanity and this life

But oh, someone help

I can feel myself slipping

And now I tumble

Down and down

The way I’ve learned to live

Is the way I’ve learned to die

Someone help, someone help

But oh, I’m losing it.

Somn

The night falls, and the man lays down to rest. After he falls asleep, something within his body awakens. Something ancient, something strange. Something more like a fungus than a man. It craves the ability to live as his host does, walking about and talking, running, dancing, fighting. However, it has no muscle memory of doing so. It pulls at the man’s body, jerking his limbs until he is eventually on his feet, eyes rolled back, staring blankly ahead. With great effort, the entity pilots the man to walk, one step at a time. Upon reaching the door, the entity struggles to understand the concept of a doorknob. It contorts the man’s arm to smack against it several times, caressing it strangely, before eventually managing to grasp it and open the door. Faced with a new world and full of excitement, the ancient being calls out in excitement, but the man’s mouth only mumbles nonsense. With great effort, it begins to pilot the body down the hall. Suddenly, a voice is heard. “Paul? Paul? What are you doing up, dear?” The entity scrambles for a reply, but can only manage to make the lips form the words “a green camel for the winds.” in reply. A light clicks on, and the man awakes, banishing the entity once more. He stands and blinks, wondering how he got here. “Are you sleepwalking, dear?” He scratches his beard for a moment before replying, “I must have been. Don’t worry love, I’m coming back to bed.” And so, having been caught, the entity rests. Lying in wait for another night, another chance to live like the living.