± H13.com - Archives - October 2001
october 2001

A clue12:08am wednesday, 31st october
I think I will own the most valuable gem in the world. I think I will save all my money from the day I was born to the day I die, that I will make millions upon millions of dollars and store it away with interest, and when I have enough, I will buy this most rare and most precious of gems. While I am saving, I will stare at it from afar, and I will gaze lovingly at it as if it were my own child I were going to adopt. And when I have the money, to the very penny, I will spare no time; I will run like one driven to the place where they keep it, and I will buy it at its full price. And when I buy it, the thing I will do — the thing I will do is give it back to the world.
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And so...12:05am tuesday, 30th october
From where we left off before, I remember getting the slip of paper ... was it under my door? ... that I was supposed to appear in court because of my non-payment of rent. I had thought reality itself was the thing that was kicking me out, and I was happy about it. I had spent the winter pretty much penniless except for a couple weeks when I picked up my last paycheck from the place where I had been working. The day before my landlord kicked me out, I called a friend over, and he bought me a burger from McDonalds and gave me $15, which was all he had on him. Bless him.

On the following morning, I walked about a mile and a half to this place in Philadelphia proper (my apartment was in the outskirts) where guys sold drugs on the street. I bought a dime bag of marijuana. It was raining. I also knelt down to pray in the middle of the sidewalk a couple of times. Man, I felt invincible.

I went home and smoked up. Then there was a knock on my door — it was my landlord with two cops. I hid the pot, but to make sure I wasn't going to get busted, I acted extra strange. I mean, here I was, acting insane believing I wasn't insane, but actually quite psychotic, with the cartoons and voices in my head at full blast. The cops found the marijuana (and my porn, by the by, cracking a remark about that), but I acted sufficiently strange enough that they called the loony wagon on me. I was involuntarily committed, and I remember at the time I was going through my Lucifer Morningstar phase — I thought I was God's brightest angel, and that Jesus was Michael, the second brightest. This happened in March of 1993.

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Present2:02am monday, 29th october
I am wandering, my footsteps falling into focus out there —
I am not alone but walk where others set their staffs and wonder.
I say, "How can one be found if one is never lost?" They laugh.

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A dream?1:59am sunday, 28th october
Why would you want to live in a dream? In dreams, we are not governed by the civilization that has structured the way we act in the waking world; we act and say things uninhibited by conscience. Killing someone in a dream we most easily forgive. The stuff of dreams, too, it seems insubstantial — fluff — compared to the granite of that which we may walk upon when upright with our eyes open. To be eternally in fantasy seems not to me a Heaven but a sort of Hell.

I would not, perhaps, have thought so when I was little, when I had the dream where I flew and could stray into the sky. I was all for escape. Perhaps many people are. I had the chance to live in a dream, of sorts — I think I have said this before: psychosis is like living in a dream, but that it is so prevalent we accept it as real, and there is nowhere to wake up to. Or perhaps there is, and there would be sanity; perhaps I am awake, now, at least enough to know where I have been.

No, give me the real world. Give me a slap in the face, if there need be. I would much prefer that to a thousand years of nothing but feathers.

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Telling12:03am saturday, 27th october
And what shall we say to our Creator on Judgment Day? "I meant to"? (Oh yes, that love thy neighbor thing was on my list of things to do, but everything has just been so crazy, you know?) It really is a terrifying concept: being completely naked before the Unending Eye, exposed not just of body but of all the tiniest little thing done and said throughout one's entire life; all those things you said out of petty annoyance, said out of selfish spite, all those things you did when no one was looking — all there in front of you as plain as day. Really. Frightening.

Not to say there wouldn't be a flip side to those who have done well: every scrap of paper you picked up and tossed away in the proper receptacle, that quarter you gave to your five year old nephew to give to the homeless man, every tiny little thing you did when you didn't think of yourself first; these things are all credits in the bank balance of your soul. And the people will say, "But those are nothing," and the answer will be, "But those are everything."

Just a theory, but one side or the other will be forgotten and never brought to mind again for each soul. ... Not sure why I bring this topic up, just where my mind is today.

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Then12:09am friday, 26th october
Feel pretty good today. Went to therapy again, got stuff off my chest like I should. Voices pretty quiet.

Continuing from last time, I loafed about my parents' house for a few months, mostly lying in my old bed as things were happening in the place which existed in my mind's eye — exactly where I had not thought about, but it existed in some real sense, I believed. This went on from late '91 through mid-'92. The place in my head degenerated into something like ancient Rome, and my mortal enemy (I was pretty sure) was Aleister Crowley. I also saw myself in my head, and I didn't believe I was he of my old name but someone and something else.

At about June I got a job at the place where I had been working during my academic suspension (between sophomore and junior years). I had my own apartment near my parents' house. When I went back to work, though, it was not the same thing as it had been before. The time before, I was at my mental height, but this time, I felt not 75% of my previous self. I was kinda doing the Philip K. Dick thing, trying for some overarching theory by which reality might be encapsulated. I had it in my head the whole time that I was somehow God or GOD, which I differentiated in the Gnostic sense (they believe the God of the Old Testament is not the same as that of the New, so GOD would be the one of the New — Jesus' dad). I was, however, nowhere near as prolific as PKD, writing scraps of this, notes of that, little drawings.

Late '92, I stopped going to work. I also started not paying my rent, or visiting my parents or anyone else, for that matter. This would lead to my first commitment to one of our fine mental institutions. To be continued....

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Interesting12:24am thursday, 25th october
"Our body has this defect that, the more it is provided care and comforts, the more needs and desires it finds."
 - St. Teresa of Avila

Such is truth: the more we have, the more we want. I think spiritually, I have been spoiled. Back when I had that mystical experience of the infinite light (described on August 7 on this site, entitled "10/7/88", here), I remember dropping more and more acid every weekend so that I might experience it again. It was, of course, the wrong way to go. I got up to 10 hits at one time, two weekends in a row. I was prevented from doing more at one time (thankfully) by my friends, concerned about my mind. Who knows? If I had done 30 at one time, like I was planning, maybe I would have lost sanity sooner than I did.

Speaking of sanity (or lack thereof), my psychosis is very strange. Yes, it did culminate in me dropping my drawers for the world (look here), but usually, all it tries to do is make me live a better life. Reminds me of my honor, recommends my humility. Makes me the subject of God Most High and His Son Jesus Christ. If any of you know about Philip K. Dick's experiences, you may see why I looked to him so. Many times during his last years, he kept asking himself and others, "Am I nuts?" Perhaps the strong streak of sanity in him. For him, it was generally a positive trip, but he did talk to little voices in his head. For me, it has been more confusing — not all positive, but leaning that way. What do I make of it?

Back to the quote, I don't think she was talking about God, however. If one becomes used to God being there in some way, that's a good thing. God is not a creature comfort. I think that's happening to me, and I'm not talking about the psychosis, but something real. Hm. I expect good things.

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Over2:10am wednesday, 24th october
If my Lord Jesus Christ ever gave me the keys to Heaven and Hell, I'd probably lock myself out of one of them — y'know, remember I left 'em on a cloud as the Pearly Gates slammed shut. I'll get better, I'll get better. Been down so long it looks like up to me. Come to think of it, I've kinda had a hard life. I really never thought of it that way. I've had a hard life. And maybe it was not all my fault. Maybe it was.

I get this from Ian Chovil's website:
You get on a plane that is supposed to go to Hawaii and instead the plane lands in Siberia. ... You can either learn to enjoy Siberia or forever feel bitter that you didn't land in Hawaii.
Looking at that man's life, though, I kinda had it easy. I took a flight to Amsterdam and instead landed in Korea. I shouldn't complain, I suppose, since Korea has been good to me more than not. Barely. I did have help from my family throughout the entire course of my condition. But maybe I should feel a little bitter if I'm ever going to get past that subconscious undercurrent sourness I don't usually let myself in on. Feel it to get past it, and hopefully, that will be that.

I pray to my Lord that I may smile without smirking. A smirk is not happy, not truly.

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Continued...12:07am tuesday, 23rd october
Where I left off last in the chronological tale of my first madness was my entry into the psychosis, back in July of 1991 (that's located on the 13th of August on this site, here). When Rosanna Arquette took over from my infatuation with Julia Roberts, I thought she was in New York City, and that being only a two-hour drive from Philly, I took off without a word to anyone and drove there. It was in this little Ford Escort which my parents had bought for me the year I had been on academic suspension (between my sophomore and junior years). I was loose on the streets of NYC for a couple days, and actually (not hard to believe), I was quite at home there. Ever wander around at 3 am in the streets of Manhattan? Quite an experience. I remember I purposefully dented a BMW, as sort of a protest against yuppiedom. I also went hungry for about a day. Then I went back to Philly, back to my parents'.

I lived totally in my head for about two months. I mean, I just lay on my bed, talking to myself — or even less, just thinking at them. I mean, I didn't even turn on the radio, much less watch TV. I heard later on that my dad breathed a sigh of relief when in September, I finally flipped on the stereo he had put in my room and listened to the local radio stations. That had corresponded in my head to having been separated from what I had believed was my plasmate, or the higher part of myself, which had become attached that day I felt that snap in July. Later on, one close friend said that instead of seeming like something had been added to me, something seemed instead to be missing. He and another friend asked me during that time to try and get some psychiatric help, but I refused. Remember, I believed that what had been happening to me was real somehow until my breakthrough in 1997.

That's good for now, I guess. The second madness — the one which has just left — I don't know if I'll be able to piece together any time soon.

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Jet lag12:01am monday, 22nd october
I'm back from Korea. Strange here, a different vibe entirely from what I have been used to for the last three weeks. I felt saner back there. Maybe it's because I wasn't in as good a shape as I am now when I left, and that's a past which is applying pressure to this present. The past is not like cobwebs, it's more like duct tape. Not pretty and man, does it stick.

Give me a couple of days. I'll get used to sanity in the 'States, I am sure. Sitting in the same space I occupied in a stranger frame of mind wants my mind to behave like it had, a memory based solely on context. I wish I felt more solid.... Let my faith not waver. Let me press on, because I really am okay again — it's just this place, it's just this seat from where I write this. Shadows linger, but the dawn has broken.

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I'm okay3:47am saturday, 20th october
I think I had a breakthrough last night. It was softer than the last time, way back in the spring of '97, but I think I got it. I think I'm sane again. That tagline I have above really came and bit me on the butt, huh? "Once madness was here." It truly was.

I made up another aphorism last night:
Love is so simple people will never understand it.
It is the simplest thing in the world, and yet it is infinitely creative. If you try and think about it, all you get is a mass of contradictions. It was in that poem I wrote on this site, not too many days ago: "love I find is nothing more than a heart". I really think that's it, nothing more or less, not the grand metaphysical scheme I had once imagined that that wonderful four-letter word was. But do you see? What is a heart capable of? This is the way it makes sense to me, maybe it's subjective. Maybe love is something like that but different to you. Different for everyone.

Hey, maybe I'll get back to that chronological account I need to get back to, about this madness' course last time. Its course this time was pretty well documented here, and if you haven't yet, please browse.

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A lamp4:48am friday, 19th october
Really, that is all I should want to be: a lamp. I should not want to be a holy, devastating fire to mark the way of God Almighty, but a common lamp which is out in the world to speak of things our Lord Jesus Christ made plain to us.

I'm sorry if I'm being preachy here (and other places) — you may, if you do not believe, think that I am using Jesus and God as a crutch for a wounded mind, but let me tell you a little differently. If I speak to you now in complete and sane sentences, writing of things others who had never been afflicted as I have been — the same things — what does that say to you? I tell you that Jesus exists and has brought me from the madness more than once, and here again, not as little cartoons dancing in my head, but as He who sits at the right hand of the Father in Heaven. Around the web, there are many stories of how the Lord has done miraculous things for people who have believed in Him. Not only that, but stories of how they believe in Him because He did these things. If I'm making any sense at all (and I am pretty sure that I am, at least here) it is because my Lord has seen good to grant me mercy this and countless other times.

You must forgive we Christians, if you do not believe and are annoyed at our constant prattling about Jesus. But it is like this, that our hearts overflow of Him and what He has done for us, and the only thing we can do is to do our best to share our joy. Forgive us, therefore. For all we hope is that perhaps just one of you may be reached by what we do.


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What works?5:57am thursday, 18th october
"Plans are only good intentions unless they immediately degenerate into hard work."
 - Peter F. Drucker

What is a dream then, if it is not followed by a plan? That's what I need — a plan. I must return to the ordinary world with what I can carry out of my madness, as one may learn sane lessons even within a deep psychosis. I have learned that I must rely on a higher power to get through my life, and I'm not talking about any of the cartoons and voices I was conversing with in my head. If all I have learned is faith, that is better than many. What is my plan, then?

When I get back to the 'States, I want to read the Bible one hour a day until I've finished it, again. I did read it once before, but all I retained from that last reading of the King James Version was, "My bowels! My bowels!", which actually means, "My anguish! My anguish!", but you see why I remembered it in the former verbiage. I also need to get a job again — perhaps one reason why the Lord let me slip this last time was that I could afford to, no job responsibility to which I had to answer.

I dunno. Maybe it's just one of those things where I just keep on keeping on. Like when the colonel asks Rambo in First Blood, "How will you live?", Rambo answers, "Day by day." A little cheesy, I give you that, but so am I.

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When4:03am wednesday, 17th october
When shall I say it is over this time? It is not like the last; I spent too long the last, long time believing it was all happening to me in some real way, that it was not illusion. I have the benefit of hindsight, this time. Perhaps it is harmful to me, after all, that I believe I am a prophet. Not just that it is probably false, but that I may end up doing stupid, stupid things to further that hypothesis. Is that it? When I let that go?

There are many forces at work in any human being. Each of us is pulled in several ways all at once at all times, and this is what we call life. This is what we call responsibility. I forget who said it, but madness is thinking about too many things at one time or thinking of one thing too much. I should let it subside the one thing, the many things, but I do not know how. And I must not ask, "What will become of me?", for what will become of any of us? God has a plan, I believe, that is mysterious until we are let in on it, and then it is simple as day.

Perhaps dawn approaches. Let the dew break on my feet, and let the chill not startle me.

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Calm2:58am monday, 15th october
The date went well yesterday. I think that's all I'll say about that — it seems a little too mundane to be on this site. I might as well bring it up this last time, as it seems to have helped my sanity. I feel calm today. The fugues are resting. What's that Duran Duran song? I don't cry for yesterday / There's an ordinary world / somehow I have to find. Indeed.

I think that's all I'll write today. No distress to propel the words, just a slight current of ordinary air through the doorways of my mind.

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Sijo9:57am sunday, 14th october
I found out that the most popular form of Korean poetry is called the Sijo. Here is one I created:

The flickering of light and shadow enswathes me, dances;
Mystery folds my mind in two and breezes brush away the sand:
Night is ending, and love I find is nothing more than a heart.

Sijo is 3 lines of 14-16 beats each, with special attention to a lyrical quality in the rhythm. And the last line is to have a twist.

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Wonder5:49am saturday, 13th october
I dream and dream again, whereupon I am lost in a wilderness of my own making. The love of the Lord is a splash of cold water upon my face and body, and I awake to a light which is touched by a holy fire. I am not but a wanderer in a world I do not understand; I walk in places which are strange to me, which are strange for men to encounter. Lest I become proud, I am beaten down into a perfect kneel and am thankful for it. I am thankful for it all, all the little sufferings and boredoms, the terrors I have felt at times.

Let me be bold now and then — the larger voices will let me into their wake — and I may ride upon the winds which spill even from the shadows of Him above. Let me not think, "I have seen too much to be forgotten from on high." Let me never rest from the charge I know I have: that I must serve the most high God, and be his herald; that I give not glory to mine own self but work to the praise of Him above; that I must love as my Lord Jesus Christ loved us, if that be possible in all humility. My hope gains light and casts a faith in my heart. Let me be ever thankful.

Lord be with you.

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Threshold8:17am friday, 12th october
What was it? What put me over the brink last time? I am only just starting to realize it, that I was mad again. Walking around naked because you thought you woke up in the Kingdom of Heaven is mad, just no doubt about that. What was I thinking? Rhetorical. I think there was a point when I decided to just go for it, that I would give into the madness, let that be my life. And I thought that would last for the remainder of my days, too. But maybe that wasn't it, after all.

I jump to conclusions far too often (if I haven't written that sometime before). Perhaps every time I thought I was the Antichrist (or close to it), I was concluding that given a scrap of evidence and paranoia did the rest. That's the streak of paranoia that I keep saying that I developed when I was a small time drug dealer in college. I used to brag that I could discern the different sirens of police, ambulance, and fire engines from one another. Kinda, not really though. Being a braggart is yet another thing I have to work on not being.

Anyway, I have a date on Sunday with a really cool chick. Smart, pretty, knows English (got her master's in the 'States). I guess I should wonder what's wrong with her. I can probably take it — it can't be anything near to what's wrong with me. I am hopeful though, as always. Lord, help me overcome.

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Recent1:57am thursday, 11th october
I drew this picture not too long ago:

Can you guess what it is?

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Hopeful1:00am wednesday, 10th october
I am not alone, if I come to think of it. Not including my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, either. There are people around me — my brother, for one, and also friends — and even if they don't fully understand, so what? Who fully understands someone else? Really gets that other person? There is a wall every person erects and lets few cross, and mine just happens to be taller and harder than most; that's really all there is to it.

Why am I bitching so? Moaning, "Savior, Savior, no one comprehends"? I'm such an idiot! I'm so thick! I can still smile, after all, and it doesn't have to be a maniacle grin; I can still laugh and it isn't a warlock's cackle. I think I'm beginning to get it. One of my friends was complaining about this other friend that his major flaw was that he didn't understand how incredibly loved he is. And that's it. I'm beginning to understand this, what she said. Hallelujah. I'm saved, after all.

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Golden mean?12:57am tuesday, 9th october
I think I'm winding into sanity. I'm starting to decide that it's alright if I'm not one of the biggies, one of the Names, y'know? I guess I don't have to be of such greatness women faint at my approach and men shout out in loud voices. It is a good thing. If I avoid extremes perhaps I can find peace. Perhaps the madness will leave me again enough, like it did before. Perhaps an ordinary life is the treasure, after all.

Has anyone out there had this feeling, that maybe they were destined for something remarkable? I think I still have that feeling, but it has gotten me in trouble before... maybe I will keep it a little, the feeling I am special to some degree, and not jump to conclusions lest my delusions of grandeur overtake me. It's raining gently here, the bug in this site has been fixed, and a slight shiver that good things are still to come brings a slight smile. Not all things are right with the world, but a corner of it has smoothed out a few rough edges. Peace trickles in.

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That sucked1:21am monday, 8th october
Man, I've been down for like two days, if you didn't know (this site, that is). Still meeting women, went out dancing at a Seoul nightclub a couple days ago. I'm sick right now (I have a cold), but I feel pretty stable. Here is another dream from the past:
There is a dream greater than the rest. It is the One Dream from whence all others come — each of any other dream is merely a shadow of it. Only one man ever saw the vision in its full light, someone whom we all know by heart. This man died for the dream. The vision did not die, but instead it found new illumination and spread throughout the world. Will you speak of its mystery? The dream is a blast of arctic wind; the dream is a fire; the dream is softer than a feather's touch; the dream is realer than a stone, and harder; the dream is nothing like you'd ever expect and is better familiar than your own soul; the dream will save you. You know what the dream is. It has always been with you, and it never lets go.
A dream about dreams. How meta.

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Hey2:40pm friday, 5th october
I just been on a date set up by my parents. The girl was nice, but not that interesting. I guess I'll just keep on looking. Anyway, here is a dream from the past:
A rose grew in the wild. One day, a woman passed by and was captured by the beauty of the rose. She did not pick it — she knew that if she were to pluck it from the ground, its beauty would be halved. The woman went back to town and told her friends about this rose. Word went around to a man who was enamored of the woman, so infatuated was he that what he did was to pitch a tent there — leaving the whole world behind — to sleep behind the rose. He slept there for forty days and nights, eating nothing but wild berries and drinking from a nearby stream. Every day, he washed himself and his clothes in the stream, shaving his face. The woman, when she went back to the rose, saw the tent there now. She walked up to it, opened the flap, and she fell in love with the man at first sight.
I wonder if I still believe in love. I really wonder.

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Guess what?12:45am thursday, 4th october
I am writing this, as we speak, from Seoul, Korea! I'm sort of on vacation from my vacation (read: unemployment). I'm here to relax and meet women, basically, and who wouldn't like a fate like that? I'm in what you call a "PC Bang" (where "Bang" is pronounced with the sound of "ah"), or "PC Room" — public access to computers and the internet. Not quite like internet cafes, since there is no coffee here, just computers.

Weird outage yesterday; my hosting provider reset my database and FTP password to something similar the original, but not exactly what it had been. I admit, I was freaking a little. But I'm okay, now. Here's what I wanted to say yesterday, right before I left on my voyage:
Feeling pretty sane today. Each day is a carefully folded origami that I grossly undo through the course of the hours, to see the message inscribed within. A little treasure every day, it would appear. Sometimes I think I can fold it back up again, to see where I started, but it's an exercise in futility; I cannot hope to be able to replicate what the larger voices have crafted. Day by day. Step by step. Note by note. I believe it — I will catch on to the tune.
There's hope. There always is. I'll update if I can, if I'm not having too much fun here.

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ABC's12:16am tuesday, 2nd october
My greatest enemy is myself. I have put myself in foolish situations, and only I am to blame for them. I wait for people and God to bail me out of the messes I create. Perhaps I should start a new thing, that I should love me. Not to be selfish, not to hoard or to squander, but that I should wish for myself a sincere life. To do what is good for me, and not just to seek out my own pleasure — what is right, and not just what I believe is justified — can it be so? It is, then, a narrow road I which must follow.

A prayer:
I have asked for help a thousand times, never knowing what is good for me. My Lord, my God, teach me that this mouth will ask what is right to ask, grant me that I will do what is good to do. If it be correct, help me to love myself. Amen.
Journeyman me, start on that road today.

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Another clip12:02am monday, 1st october
I was pretty far gone when I drew this picture (circa 1994). Does it speak anything?

That grey patch in the lower right hand corner is where I had signed it, if you want to know.

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