While the PLT seems to have restored a sense of precarious leadership, I have suffered terribly the last two days. The word is non-functional. As I write this, I am in severe back and shoulder pain, and some psychotropic has me in some kind of physically ill and alienated state that makes just being painful. I suspect that I was astrally abducted earlier today. I don't know what I said or didn't say, but I can tell you that I am not myself, but a sick, pale, crippled partial of myself.
I no longer play these stupid ass games with people or communities, who as far as I can tell, are willing to suck every last idea from my head, but never relate to me personally. It is like being some contestant in a reality TV show, where everybody just projects their own angers, needs, and expectations onto the celluloid animus/anima figure. I am okay with that--there is no reason to fight it, for it has gone on for years now.
I do mind being drugged to the point that I am non-functioning. I had to take 7 T-tabs yesterday, just to drive home. My bed has been unmade for two days, because I am too sick to go through the effort of putting on a sheet. I have not been able to read or watch TV much, because I am too sick. I have no enthusiasm for life or living, but guess I am a little better than yesterday, when I fantasized about shredding my arms open. Now, I just wish to die and sleep forever, and get all these users out of my head.
Anything I want to say, I say in this blog--the rest is just conjecture, speculation or mishmash. So, I will say that I still think there is a high ranking alien contingent that is "playing" humanity, wishes us ill, and will betray us when their timing is right. Maybe that is why I continue to resist any efforts to integrate me fully into alien reality. I don't know who or what that contingent is. It is just little things tugging at the back of my mind. If I did know, I promise that I would spill everything. However, I do believe that this nagging, but true fear could very well be responsible for my unconscious insecurities which parlays into unconscious resistance.
Still, I believe that there are positive aliens, without whose assistance, this planet would be screwed--a dozen times over. In many ways they have tried to help me as well. A couple of nights ago, I saw a UFO in the sky. Without my glasses, it kind of looked like a bright, close star, but I knew no star is that close, so I went and got a pair of binoculars. Once I found the UFO in my lens, it started moving, jumping up an down, and zigzagging with super speed. In short, it was playful for me (not "playing me")--like a semi truck driver who blows his air horn, in response to some little kid giving him the "Pull it" sign. Evil is not playful. As a matter of fact, evil is heavy and serious to the point of weighing down with heaviness.
That is the way these psychotropics I am on makes me feel--heavy, heavy, heavy, physically sick, mentally drained, and in terrible pain. There is no way that any words that come from my mouth in this situation, especially from my unconscious, can indicate anything other than the expression of a very crippled, sick being. If I am going out of my mind with pain, and say to a doctor, "please just kill me" (which I have felt on more than a few occasions in my life), no ethical doctor will do so. Well, that is as lousy as I feel right now--I have enough presence of mind to know that I have felt this way before, and then felt better, so I can have hope, but my feeling, rather than my reason and hope talking would say, "kill me now. This life ain't worth living."
PS--funny thing, when I feel like shit, lifeless, dead, crippled, then I feel more feminine. When I feel strong, healthy, creative, and full of life and joy, then I feel masculine.
Wonder why I say I will never be happy again until I am in a male body?