Saturday, 27 December 2008

Regarding Sex

In an attempt at explaining the last post.

I feel dubious about writing about that side of mania. It is not flirtatiousness in me that spills the whatever over the page. But it is an awful and ghastly and sometimes wonderful aspect of that condition. I'm way beyond the pleasure principle currently. One day I'll try to write the definitive and most saucy gravypost about it. But that will only be achieved (like the hypersex thing) when one is calmer. And then the dubiety will kick in, and kick, and kick your brains out so it will never be written. Somehow we got muddy knees while the Christmas Veg was cooking. TMI. But will let it stand for a while. Damn it!!!! Or help!!!!!? Life is getting faster and fasserereaster anda farerstersdf fa

And Faster.

I need to go on a fast.

Or something.

I need a break from myself.

From My SELF.

Because I am utterly sick of Him.

To the bones, to the core, to the nugget of unreality that forms my meaning.

The phrase manic-depression is always interpreted as a dual concept.

My reality is that it is concurrent. It is Manic Depression - no hyphen. Or perhaps I've just read the phrase wrong all these decades. If I don't fit the sine wave, I can't be, eh? Hopelessly bursting out of my head, my framework of ribs, my sanity, my pathetic semblance of family ordinariness.

I will fucking survive.

I always do.

But have to remind myself, on, albeit, slightly more frequent occasion that I was used to.



I am not going for another run. Not like last night. It's too damn brass monkeys. NO NAY NEVER

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