Mental Health Mondays: HIGHS & LOWS

I've been getting back into Breaking Bad lately and it got me wondering. 'What would I do if I only had one year to live?' Just like Walt was given. 1 year. What would I do? Who would I see? What would I confess? What would I leave behind? This was something more than existential crisis or depression, two things I'm well known for on here and in daily life. I actually gave this some thought.
And these are my answers.

What would I do if I only had one year to live?
Whatever the fuck I wanted.
I'd eat what I wanted, go where I want to, drink, get high, just experience all my favourite things and take on some new thrills. Dangerous shit. I've done that in the past, but this time there wouldn't be any consequences to face. I'm starting to like this mindset. I'd hit on my passionate flame. I'd jump turntables again in the New York City underground, I'd take my pants off in the heart of London and whoop with joy. 
I'd probably travel to all of my favourite spots- 
Manchester, Reykjavik Berlin, Magdeburg, Leipzig, Stockholm, Prague, Auckland.
I'd go to Nepal, Peru, Mongolia. I'd see everything I've always wanted to see.
Even go back to New Mexico and sniff around some of the few places I did enjoy.


Who would I see? 
I'd want to hang out with Jess and Rosie, I'd probably stalk Liam and Noel Gallagher cause they're fucking amazing and I'd love to meet them before I die. I'd tell that douche of a prime minister Canada has just what I think about him-to his face. That'd be nice. I'd want to meet Gordon Ramsay-come on, who doesn't want to meet him? 

What would I confess?
Everything. I'd tell all of my secrets, but not let everyone in on the mystery that drives me. I'd scream of my love for him until it echoed throughout ever corner of the world. I'd speak of my secret shame. I'd tell everyone just how I feel about me and life. I'd be open with my hatred of people and destroy them like they destroyed me. It's best to go out with a bang and at peace with yourself, am I right? 

What would I leave behind?
Nothing. Absolutely nothing. I will be forgotten in moments. My work will fade into history. I will become a memory. Those who knew me or claim to have known me will die. And then it will be as if I never existed. Nothing good ever stays with me, why would a little thing like death change any of that? 

FRIDAY IS HIGH DAY 
This past Friday, I got high. It was beautiful. I was so calm, everything was so still. I love those moments where everything slows and you can feel your breathing, connect with the blood circulating through your, yet your mind could not be farther away from your body. I laid and watched the clouds go by. Time seemed to drag on. It was different from the drag on way, I usually experienced. This time it seemed so organic like it was doing it as a way to heal me. It was telling me that there is more than just the beauty of silence and that I should pull apart the threads of reality and have a look for myself. I did just that. 

10.02.17

Naked and high on Percocet beneath 
the early morning sun.
I’m silky.
I’m smooth.
I’m more connected to my soul-my being-
my place in space and time.
I’m disconnected to my troubles and fears,
setting fire to all that disheartens me. 
I touch myself in new ways.
I explore this new flesh.
Experience sensations I’d only 
read about.
I photograph myself in new angels,
lights and filters.
It’s odd.
It’s as if I’m seeing myself reborn.

And I cried.
As the golden rays penetrated the tempered glass
of my bedroom windows, I cried.
I realised just how badly I needed him.
And not in ways of sexuality or animal perversion. 
The silent tears were paired with a salt that
stained my duvet and contorted my features. 
I cried upon realising that I care far beyond any degrees
of rationality. 
A different body, let I know it is my own.
I slide soft, cotton panties up over my hips.
They’re just as black as my soul.
My hair is silky beneath my frigid fingertips.
I twist and turn the waves mingling the tones of
my hair, creating a symphony of colour. 
I stroke myself to climax thinking of his pale thighs
and raspberry lips. 
Sweat trickles down my back and mingles with the scent of
my body lotion that lingers on my skin and the sheets. 
My heart pounds beneath my ribs,
a sense of satisfaction in addition to the drugs are pumping 
thought me.

It was an amazing experience to say the least. I fell asleep quickly and with no hints of a struggle. I'd count it as the second best high I've ever had. This was an entirely different drug than the one I'd taken for the first best high, but the experiences has similar concepty-peacefulness, tranquility, connections to the mind, body and soul that I could never achieve in my normal state. And they have to make these things illegal? Blowhards. 

FRIEND! 
 I think I realised that this friendship I have is kind of bullshit. I'm not that important to said mate who always leaves me hanging and just kind of rubs shit in my face? I'm not above hitting people, as we all know full well and the desire to hit this bitch in the face is growing like a weed. Why do weeds grow faster than flowers? What's the deal with that shit anyway? Back to the friendship thing. Am I expecting too much from people? Am I meeting the wrong kinds of people? I feel like I'm always the butt of some joke that I'm missing out on. It's been this way pretty much all of my life. What do they see that I don't? Do they see the desperation to be loved or have a friend so they take the piss out of me until I can't take it anymore? Sometimes it feels like my heart is going to explode. 

Speaking of, it's almost time to start the indoor planting of my herb box for this summer / autumn. Each year I always manage to kill part of it. This year, I'm going to attempt to keep the thing alive through the entire season. Let's see if my planting adventures take off.  🎋 

I've also got some new blogs in the works!
Throat Healing Update
Delicious Kids 
Why I retired my septum piercing
New Delectables with Dan :D 
(3 more in the works!) 

LINKS 
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