The ''MENTAL'' Thread

[Grigore]

''Search for a reason,
Find it,discover the cause,
Understand it,contemplate about the possibilities,
Struggle,end up embracing the asininities.

What is wrong in this system? Maybe the system itself?
You remember what you forget,
What is the purpose of negating the forsaken when you are dead?
Am I talking garbage or,do you understand?''

This is a poem that I've wrote to myself while being psychotic,I wanted to convince the lucid version of myself about something.
Please share the poems that you've written when you were high or in a disturbed mental state.
If you don't have any,please tell me what I meant in my poem,I don't remember the thinking pattern that I've had so I can't actually understand what I wanted to tell to myself,all I remember is that I considered it VERY important.

 

[spork]

This thread would be better suited for Words. I'll move it over there now. Take care.

 

[caseface99]

^^ He probably wanted to get responses. But you're right, still doesn't change that its better suited there.

I wrote this a few weeks ago after staying up all night a couple days in a row, so basically just really sleep deprived and thinking about everything I'd rather not think about:

Intrepid thoughts of random origin, no translation, no meaning, no reason.
Just repetitive nonsensical bullshit that makes you want to pull the trigger
and paint the wall with your already decaying brain matter.

But think about the poor asshole who would have to clean it up.

Instead perhaps a cocktail of intravenous pseudo-suicide to temporarily
euthanize the firing squad of random broken electrical signals in your thick skull.

But think about your pride, and ego - back to day one?
May as well just paint the fucking wall at that point.

No choice but to try and solve the insolvable,
decipher the indecipherable, translate the untranslatable.
Better capture a windtalker before your dilapidated mind goes up like Hiroshima.

Too late. It was inevitable anyway. You've past the event horizon
and the last traces of tangible thought are lost to speghettification.

Darkness. Welcome to the void.

 

[HdoubleODeezy]

op.. it'll come to you in time, actually. if you can memorize it and are easily influenced by rhymes or writings than you will eventually live what the "psychotic" side of you was saying, whether it good or bad.
It's art, and most artists who have or have had some sort of "mental illness" (myself included) end up trapped in their own art/ writings. but in most part it is only if they keep digging for the reason the words/art were/was in their head to begin with that it starts a cycle. if you let it go and forget it than you might save yourself from some inner emotion the "normal" you wants not to feel.. on the other hand you may miss out on the teachings your own brain can bring to itself. there is a reason you wrote it indeed, but what is the reason to figure out what it means? maybe that's what you're really after. I donno tho.. just woke up, haven't even had coffee yet lol, this is what the half asleep me says anyways.

 

[ParappaTheRapper]

Great thread idea definitely. Here I just wrote this:

The end of the horizon ends at all points.
The realizing i find stiffens up my joints.
All the things I've seen were imprinted from day one
orbit around a half cyclical cynical satire of the sun.

I'm a son who slows down when i jog to run
like the fox slipped the hound the starting gun
There really isn't a whole lot but a knot
where my insides remind itself to wake up and rot

So once the day runs out of things to say
i grasp at the color and the feeling of a good day in May.

 

[keeping]

A waterfall in reverse, the fallacy of change,
an ambelic pumping of liquids hard against the rain,
it’s not here you won’t find it, prise the eyes wide apart
and all you will stare into is blindness, the current
is running back up to the summit, the plinth has been
cracked since the day it was founded.

 

[JackiePeyton]

Layers of poison spread through the genetic pieces we pass. The bloodline's affliction - I thought I could fix with love and care but I was wrong. It is embedded in the tissue and only scars over time. How you care for it doesn't matter, it utterly is a scar from the genesis of our emotional formation. After the years pass, we begin to mentally disintegrate. This is why mother ran. How could she look at me? Stare at what she made and was? Now What I made-it won't stop. Options are limited. I can only stare at the thing I've done. And selfishly try to preserve myself to help her. I don't know if I can.
Aware of what his horrible smell back in 64 did as he lay dying from burns, he now follows me. A spirit guide. He follows the bloodline. "Don't forget her", "you can' save her". But it wasn't your burns that did this. IT came from inside,. GO away old man. You can't make it right. Stop the effect- look at it. I didn't set you on fire. Now let it go. Let me be. Let me live my way. Stop telling me to save her. I can't. GO away old man. I got nothing.

 

[SoniaSharma]

Fantastic thread idea...

 

[JackiePeyton]

bump

 

[ParappaTheRapper]

a woman had sex with no orgasm
I am much younger and she finds herself jealous of our sex
she uses livejournal to tell her our sex makes her fantasize
the bumps in a car make her orgasm frequently
but not sex
the memory flashes through my mind when people i dont like contact me
its so hot to picture a woman so untradtionally attractive having an unattached free orgasm
riding in a car to my sex once at prime age seeing how successful she is now.

livejournal.
facebook one day will be livejournal to us.

when there is a helmet that projects sounds and images for painting and instrumental i will take that program more seriously.

 

[herbavore]

To all of those that seek the divine
in whatever way you do,
may you find it here in this simple creed:
there is no I, there is no you.

 

[GodandLove]

But there is an I, and there is a me!
Don't you see?
It is our individuality,
that gives us meaning, purpose, and freedom.
Onesim creates conflict, strife, it's uneven!

Mine I is just that, it's mine.
Not yours, not hers, nor his.
This my road,
and I dictate who's I this is.

 

[herbavore]

Both are true and this is why
the you that you speak of is your wonderful"I"
temporary and brief
individual and miraculous as snowflake or leaf;
but beyond that and under, over, throughout,
before and after, outwith all about,
we are what the stars were
this grand flowing river neither you
nor me. (in other words I agree)

 

[Erikmen]

Layers of poison spread through the genetic pieces we pass. The bloodline's affliction - I thought I could fix with love and care but I was wrong. It is embedded in the tissue and only scars over time. How you care for it doesn't matter, it utterly is a scar from the genesis of our emotional formation. After the years pass, we begin to mentally disintegrate. This is why mother ran. How could she look at me? Stare at what she made and was? Now What I made-it won't stop. Options are limited. I can only stare at the thing I've done. And selfishly try to preserve myself to help her. I don't know if I can.
Aware of what his horrible smell back in 64 did as he lay dying from burns, he now follows me. A spirit guide. He follows the bloodline. "Don't forget her", "you can' save her". But it wasn't your burns that did this. IT came from inside,. GO away old man. You can't make it right. Stop the effect- look at it. I didn't set you on fire. Now let it go. Let me be. Let me live my way. Stop telling me to save her. I can't. GO away old man. I got nothing.

Great post!!

 

[JackiePeyton]

bump