If you take cocaine it can cause the coronary artery to spasm.The blood can’t get through and you get severe chest pain,even a heart attack
It’s not worth it.
Try meditation and stop mixing with or imitating the corrupt elite and their hangers on.Stress is better dealt with by listening to music or listening to the Silence
Be with yourself sometimes
You don’t need artificial highs.
Day: June 9, 2019
The mind’s door swings
When we’re chilled by illness or bereaved The spring tides of the seas of memory lust The mind’s door swings, the torture scene’s retrieved Children have no power and cannot leave Adults fearful,wild, and, more, callous Caught too soon by fools and madmen’s weaves
In Europe where the vicious wars' conceived Children dwelt in terror,to their cost As dreadful memories stole their minds like thieves Are souls mature enough to learn from such deep grief When we feel devalued with no past. When we’re struck by hardships,we still seethe. Adults have the power to look, perceive. Each child is Jesus,tortured on his Cross This is the horror of our memories My heart is pierced by children on the News. Echoes shake this heart till black and blue. Whether felled by error,war ,disease With patience, may we tolerate unease?
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Culture affects what “voices” tell us
Extract:
“Mental illness is, however, more often a matter of degree, not kind, and a great many people who suffer it are gentle and compassionate. And by many measures, including injustice, insatiable greed, and ecological destruction, madness, like meanness, is central to our society, not simply at its edges.
In a fascinating op-ed piece last year, T.M. Luhrmann noted that when schizophrenics hear voices in India, they’re more likely to be told to clean the house, while Americans are more likely to be told to become violent. Culture matters. Or as my friend, the criminal-defense investigator who knows insanity and violence intimately, put it, “When one begins to lose touch with reality, the ill brain latches obsessively and delusionally onto whatever it’s immersed in—the surrounding culture’s illness.””
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The honey pence
Blue toads enlarged in a yellow flood
And surry I could not blather soist
And be one babbeller, ling I grud
And clacked one fur- eyed as ice blood
To tare it blent as a wander floweth
Toen blooked by wither, as bossed dax air
And having unhopped the wetter shamed
Oh, goss, wit coast flash yet stanted hares
Oh as for thit, they possing gloired
Had corn them unweilded about das Rhine
And writh in mourning cheaply dazed
In weaves no step had tradden tslicks
Oh, I whipt the wrist for loither sthays
Shirp glawing love leads on to try
I dothered if I sheid leve knapsacks
I rell ye telling this wuth a lie
Somewhere riges and roges tense
Two toads day-verged in a giraffe, and aye
I took the one I wunt blud to cry
A sprat is maiden, by honey penced
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I’m chased by signs,equations and cats’ eyes
My nightmare lives in bed, oh fire,burned bright
I’m chased by signs,equations and cats’ eyes
After I’ve turned out the bedside light
I am far too weary for a flight
I see the art and love yet all’s awry
My nightmare comes to bed, oh heck,oh might
Can you tell me more about my sight?
I seem no longer to get eggs to fry
Before I have put on the bedside light
The Hebrew letters make my heart turn white
Denoting both infinities not pi
The nightmare re-occurs, obnoxious site
Then its almost Grecian at its height
The tragedy of theatre, does that lie?
Forget about the bed and its gold light
The cat bemoans it’s eyelessness and sighs
We’re not in Gaza yet but don’t say die!
My nightmare lives in bed but I shall write
After I’ve turned on my little light
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Is the paper ruled when it arrives?
The equation so familiar is gone
We cannot represent the world by signs
Seen and mocked by scholars, all is done
Reality imposed this skeleton
Where is the human feeling, once benign?
The equation once familiar is gone
Deferential calculus. what fun
Simply wanting others to resign
Seen and mocked by scholars, all is done
Thinking at that level breeds no pun
Nor does using paper filled with rhyme
The equation too familiar is gone
Can we bring it back, can thought be won?
Mention en passant both space and time
Seen and mocked by scholars, has God come?
Why write mathematics in straight lines?
Is the paper ruled when it arrives?
The equation evil speaking is far gone
Seen and mocked by scholars, shot by gun
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Courtesy is everlasting
since i lost you i have lost
the keys to my heart
the front door key
my phone
and my money
now all i have is a large tube of ibuprofen gel max strength
and some feathers from the tail of a baby wood pigeon
that flew into our house when i left the back door open
maybe i need better boundaries
closed doors
and windows
the wood pigeon was so strong its agitation rocked the front door like a thundergod
like you,it did not realise
there are easier ways to leave
than smashing through glass
leaving shards to pierce my heart
not to mention my feet
become a better leaver
have mercy on those other lovers
for charm wears thin but courtesy is everlasting
like love itself
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I believe in…fairies
https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2015/mar/04/fairies-fairy-doors-wayford-woods-somerset
Beginning
If you go down to the woods today – at least in Somerset’s Wayford Woods – you are sure of a big surprise. It is not teddy bears this time, but uncontrolled immigration and house construction without planning permission – by fairies. More soberly, the trustees of Wayford Woods, near Crewkerne, are perplexed about what to do about the 200 or so tiny doors that have been screwed on to trees, and which purport to be entrances to the homes of the “little folk”. The 29-acre Somerset wood is accessible – legally as well as physically – and children have been leaving gifts and messages for the fairies for some years now, part of a wider trend for fairy doors.
How my heart sings 