[Kahlia1981]

I've been thinking recently about a poem I heard, and used to be able to recite, when I was younger. I've lost it ... like most of my past. But certain phrases came into my head. I decided to do an online search of those phrases and found the poem.

It's called:

One Fine Day in the Middle of the Night

One fine day in the middle of the night,
Two dead boys got up to fight,
Back to back they faced each other,
Drew their swords and shot each other,
One was blind and the other couldn't, see
So they chose a dummy for a referee.
A blind man went to see fair play,
A dumb man went to shout "hooray!"
A paralysed donkey passing by,
Kicked the blind man in the eye,
Knocked him through a nine inch wall,
Into a dry ditch and drowned them all,
A deaf policeman heard the noise,
And came to arrest the two dead boys,
If you don't believe this story’s true,
Ask the blind man he saw it too!


Yes, it makes no sense. That was the point of that poem. It made me start thinking. Is that what my life is like? Just something completely and totally nonsensical? I don't know. Right now that would almost be a blessing.


My head is not playing at all nicely. It keeps dragging at me. I feel like I want to do things but I don't know why. The urges - especially the strong ones - towards su, si and the old ed habits keep getting stronger. And so does the thought "giving in won't hurt". I don't know ... I just don't know.

My parental units being back in town doesn't make it any easier. I hate going out to their place because someone always has to take me and I don't have an "escape" route. If I want to leave I just have to wait for someone to be able to take me.

I guess I just have to learn to cope for the 9 more months I have left here. Until I can go somewhere they actually take mental health care seriously, instead of treating it like a "boys club".


Right now I wish I could just run away and never return. *sigh*