Diagnosing Politics

I have been quiet about politics. For one reason. 
The “c” word. 
If people at the top of politics are “crazy,” then they are being labeled. Okay. Fair enough. If people at the top of politics are being called *mentally ill*…or *unstable…* that’s alarming.

It took me a LONG time to discuss anything about myself. I made a post on Facebook about a thing that happened to me at the department of public safety that was invasive and embarrassing. Now I’m thinking ‘oh geez…’ and “should I erase this?!” 
I fear that “mentally ill” or “bipolar” or “schizophrenic” or ” manic depressive” may soon become code for “unhinged” or “white supremacist” or “bigot” or “racist” or “unstable.”
I am not this. I don’t want this.
Please don’t mistake me.
For future reference, please don’t turn me into a sheep*, or lock me up. 

I do have a “mental illness.” I am under treatment.
I am not a joke.

*previously, I had asked not to hypothetically be harassed in other nasty ways. This has happened to too many others I know before. And me a little bit sort of almost but I backed down and hid and would again in a heartbeat. I’m a coward online and in real life. I think there’s no shame in self-preservation. This is mostly because of my illness. This is why I would systematically go back through and erase my whole life, or any evidence of “thought crime.” Because you don’t know who is dangerous or what will happen in the future, sadly. 

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Diagnosing Politics

My bipolar checklist:​DO:

1. journal

2. drink water

3. take meds

4. make lists

5. phone a friend 

DON’T 

1. pull out of Paris climate agreement

2. murder and pillage

3. Tweet storm at both friends and enemies

4. Stare into sun

5. light tiki torches and march down street yelling “blood and soil.”

Hell in a

I thought I’d write a blog, as I haven’t in a while and my whole personality feels changed and like stars that aren’t allowed to live in space.

1. The fact that my blogging came to a grinding halt around the month of that Particular Election and then just gross weird sputters is not a coincidence.

2. I have not been on social media much. But everyone is done past hearing about this. I get on twitter sometimes to check in and sometimes post things about issues I care about.

I cared a lot about coming out day, and thusly said nothing. Paradox? Maybe. It’s a little confusing.

I went to the capitol and participated in some government enough to notice the futility of such things. Remember government? It’s REALLY hard to do government. The rules are always changing and if you want to do anything to make a difference you have to spend a lot of time researching stuff that they are trying to sneak past deadlines at the last minute in the dead of night and change at the eleventh hour. Nothing is sure and nothing is permanent. And the odds are always stacked. It takes lots of money and lots of time. That’s my take on absolutely every single issue ever that matters. Its all very crooked and not at all honest, seemly, or above board. It’s all dirty pool and immoral as hell. And nothing you want comes to pass except failure and evil triumphing. (not always, but hell….) And I’m sorry I just feel tired and cynical a lot now after mostly silently trying and just failing to make a damn bit of difference.

3. As usual, my breath could improve.

4. America as a nation is living on borrowed time. I have no idea if we can work out our differences here and survive as a nation. I don’t see an America as we know it even existing in fifty years (maybe less). The post apocalyptic worlds we acted out in my improv class during the summer intensive program I took felt eerie, like something cresting just over a possible horizon. And this probably is true in other nations as well, it just might look slightly cosmetically better or maybe way worse…. Or maybe other countries are probably also just kidding themselves and its all probably just a matter of time before everything goes to hell as humans are all shitty people to one another.

5. I tried to go on a diet, “for my health.” It didn’t go well. I’ll try this again next week. This has been a stupid year for food and me. This is a long series of dumb stories I’ll discuss later in life.

6. Back here at home, the only thing to wonder over is whether or not there will be a United States of anything at all, or whether it will be torn apart completely by warring extreme factions and then will descend entirely into anarchy. I’m not personally invested in any outcome–hoping only that as many humans as possible can continue to view one another with compassion and dignity and not break down into a state where we are hunting each other through the streets for food and sport. I hope if those days come, I am not marked as an enemy just because I’m not loudly present in some mob calling for heads and blood.

7. I have some seriously intelligent cats. Genius level. A lot of peopl THINK their cats and children are this level of smart. But mine actually are. They invented a cat language to talk to me, and their own games with complicated kitty rules. Make of this what you will.

8. I have not written any songs in well over a year, except for one in which I am sarcastic and talk about how corn is nasty. Because of my 😂vast😂 and diverse audience I shouldn’t link to it–as it has an Extreme Swear Word in it and I do try at times to be Seemly.

It feels frivolous to make music, like I should be making social commentary instead. Then I read my social commentary and think that my point of view is irrelevant and privileged.

9. I started doing improv, about six months ago. Only doing things that were entertaining and spontaneous and ready-made, DIY sorts of productions … only that seems real and relevant in these times. This is not the right way to think about the subject of improv at large…and is not the point of improv at all. The point of improv is fun and child mind…at least I think so.

I felt like soon we shall all be in roving bands of survivors and will need people with Art Memories. People who could call to mind dramatic form or the ways of storytelling or who could record quickly into any phone or tape or format or play/dance/act any collection of ragtag materials. Anything to tell a tale or song or some semblance of the way things were. The tellers of tales. As we sit by fires in whatever we can scrape together. Mourning the loss of all we were in the last days of our precious “civilization.” Sorry. That got weird. I’ll try again later. I’m crusty at this.

Also, everytime I try to do a thing these days I am interrupted often because these are the days of almost constant interruption. This is why you see less of me. It is as though I have forgotten I have a butt and cannot remember how to sit down!

Hell in a

a blog about nothing.

guitar2
1. I was going to write a Facebook note, but decided against it. Remember notes? Notes were cool. I liked notes. I was going to write one and I figured if my Friends got to the bottom of the note, then they will have read the whole thing. I supposed if they got through it without complaining of boredom, then I’d keep writing them. Or maybe I wouldn’t. Who knows.
2. That’s a photo of me in my 20s playing the guitar. Yesterday, it was my birthday. I’m 43 now. Then just right there below is a photo of me now. Pretty freaky!
 img_7011-2
3. I think perhaps I’m tired or something. I’ve really been dragging lately. I’ve decided to try these goofy new supplements. I’m not going to discuss them with the internet, but we’ll see how they go. I put a LOT of work into researching them and they go really well with all my medicine that I am not admitting to taking or saying that I don’t take either. In fact, this paragraph didn’t even happen. I don’t even exist. Just move on to the next thing.
4. I once described this as the Seinfeld of blogs. When I did this, my husband sent me this link which went into vast details about post-modern thought in comedy and how things had evolved. I was not amused and felt like I was being told that my sense of humor was an asshole and that people ten years younger or so than me were a kinder, more intellectual and evolved species of human. This irked me and made me think that I was being told I was some kind of artistic orangutan. I think that my reticence to make everything I write into some kind of a morality play because I don’t WANT to be that ethically superior person dates me. Or maybe it doesn’t.
5. I have a headache.
6. I’m not making excuses.
7. I need a newer computer. Or maybe I just THINK I do. Maybe I can wait. I haven’t decided yet. I think we just THINK we need new things. Maybe it’s a disease.
8. I don’t understand a lot of what has happened in 2016. But I accidentally wrote a book of pretty substantial essays. I don’t want to talk much more about it for fear that I will jinx it though.
9. Why do I want a smart watch? Why? I know I don’t need one. Next I’ll want a chip in my brain, or a flying car. Sigh …..
10. I had coffee too late in the day again. Also, I think my older notes were more intellectual. But I could be wrong about that.
11.There’s no rule saying that items must make sense or that I have to stop at ten.
12. I haven’t turned on chat in any of my apps in thousands of years. I don’t want people to get a hold of me. It seems like going voluntarily to the dentist.
13.You can’t stop at 13. It’s bad luck. I have a house ghost. There’s protocols to follow.
14. I’ve been sneezing a lot today. Maybe this is what my headache is. Or maybe it’s something more dastardly.
15. I still like capitalizing nouns sometimes, and there’s nothing anyone can do about my need to do this precious habit-Thing.
a blog about nothing.

Hope.

So. 

I started just writing what I want to write. And hitting send. Just in little bursts. Nothing revolutionary. Maybe it’s too little too late. Or maybe I’m getting lost in a crowd. The important point is that I do not CARE. I don’t care if my pain is an inconvenience or annoying to others. It’s done me no good to hold it in and has been a festering wound. You truly DO need to mourn and grieve to move through things, to break old patterns.  

I need to do this, because I’ve been frozen in time in an insane traumatized rage from years of undealt-with nonsense. The current negativity and overwhelm and lack of safety in society and appalling behavior I see around me… the rudeness and entitlement and selfishness and lack of attention span has taken a final toll. Rather than just letting go of anger I instead became resentful of extra love and kindness, extra effort I put in. I became transactional and exacting and used my brain to comb through the inconsistencies of others rather than moving on and living my truth.
I think I am done. I think…

1. I no longer care how popular I am. Maybe I’m screaming into a void. I don’t know. But actually, I know I’m not.

2. Letting go of yearning after accolades and popularity and recognition makes me a better artist. If I have three good fans who are not fans at all but appreciators with their own creative dreams and lives, that’s three times better than nothing. I have at least ten or twenty, maybe even fifty times that. So how lucky am I?

3. It’s time to let go of the negativity, forgive myself for having these blinding depressions, get willing to TALK about them because THEY ARE REAL, and get on it. I have people around me and things to do.

Hope.

Debating Debates

The first week of November, I guess we’ll have to remember there are other elections, other causes, other ways in which to get involved … here in the U.S. Hopefully, Americans will take the next four years to reflect on what brought us to this point in history. On EXACTLY where we are situated in relation to the rest of the world. On how we react to the media, to advertising in general, to each other. What we think about ourselves and our families and all humanity and the future of ourselves and this planet and what our responsibilities are to the future of the entire cooperative earth.
Or, depending on the outcome, we can start learning real survival skills, moving inland, gardening/canning/preserving, and collecting rainwater too. I may post more too. 🙂 who knows how long the power grid will stay up. I suggest we all use the internet to talk to one another about longevity and space travel–rather than for Twitter call outs and entitled bickering.
#justsomethoughts #newiceage #extinctionlevelevents #noonewillhearyourfirstworldscreams
(photo created with PRISMA app)

Debating Debates

THINGS to DO today…

1. Post on G+ after squiqillions of years.

2. Say hello to brain.

3. Floss for SECOND day in a row. This is elementary to some, but not to ME, dear Watson.

4. Practice piano again, as I became allergic to my own musicianship and kinda quit for a while but didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to hear the “awwwww why???” and then have to have the ‘well-why-don’t-you-give-me-MONEY-then-FOOLZ!’ conversation. #ahem

5. Run a bunch of rando errands that take as much time as a real person’s job because I am a meandering Xondorian space cadet  with the attention span of a Concord grape–but I have accepted this, oh yes, I have accepted this.

6. Am considering video blogging and going back to making my rough-ass looking videos even though I have not figured out how to make crisp mountain-fresh cinematography and my YouTubery looks like it has been through a grainy mayonnaise bath. I don’t want to be mistaken for one of the screaming goats. 

Maybe. They’re sort of cute and funny. I could do a lot worse.

THINGS to DO today…