Sunday, December 20, 2015

A poem by GARY G PELOW, MOVING.

I am slowly on the move, a new age approaches, and I am afraid and alone.  There is no excitement over a new house in a new region, just dread and fear, I do not know why.  I am horrified I have chosen to do this now, but this time of change would have arrived sooner or later, with no less the fear and isolation.  The fear is so strong in me it creates physical pain, I am shaking like a coward alone. There is no one by my side anymore, neither woman or friend, I have driven them all away with my anger, wrath and fear.  My eight brothers and sisters are not here either, I broke them down with anger and revenge. I am scared, I do not know what to do, everyone is mad at me, angry with me, I am alone, I am in dread of new people and places, will they like me or get angry with me and abuse me?  I hate this world, it fills me with fear, I hate change, I hate people, I hate myself.  I am alone.

Wednesday, December 16, 2015

A poem by Gary G Pelow, The Move

This time let us hope it is better than the last time, as I move to a new start, may the people be more rational and less violent.  May justice be on every corner, may there be no violence, or drugs.  Where I am now is untennable, I can not stay here in this social filth.  I must move on to better and cleaner roads ahead.  I can not tolerate this place anymore, fuck these neighbors of mine, these violent animals, I leave them to their own violence and death, there is no hope for them.  There is hope for me though, as I pass from one stage to another, one with freedom and calmness, one with reason and hope!

Tuesday, December 8, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW , THEY ARE BACK.

They are back to haunt me, those imaginary pursuers, those gang members, spying on me, following me to hurt me, to harras me.  I do not know what is real anymore, what is psychosis or not.  I am afraid to even to step outside to shop at the store, they are there, in the store with their cell phones, reporting on me trying to scare me, they are succeeding in this motivation, I am scared to be alive with those that are following me everywhere I go, I shake violently as I type this, I am afraid to be alive, I do not know what to do, I am helpless, no one cares, no one helps me, I am totally alone.

Tuesday, December 1, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, CABIN FEVER.

It is the dark period, the  part of the year that is dark, making the soul darker.
What is the cure for fall cabin fever? What is the cure for dark moods of emptines?
Jesus, I hate this fucking time of the year, things are slower, the mind clouds.
I hate people more this time of year, I have more vivid nightmares and imaginings
of the people I hate, those of violence against me from the past, those who have betrayed me.  I am tired and empty, tired of this fucking emptiness, and fear that permeates my soul.

Sunday, November 29, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE CORNER.tt

There is a house on the corner, there is somebody who lives there who is just not right, he is always alone, nervous, looking frightened all the time.  There seems on the surface of things that he is completely empty inside, devoid of any possibility for love, friendship, companionship.  The sky in his world is always dark and the air always cold.  His heart beats cold with anger and rage just barely under control, but it is seemingly under control none the less. There is psychotic boredom there if there is such a thing in his strange empty reality.  However, he is still physically alive, he has not given up, he will not give up, his sister gave up with a shot gun blast to her head.  The thought of deliberate self caused death or violence toward others is disgustingly immoral to him, these are not an option, surrender to hs imaginary enemies or despair will not happen, if for no other reason than that he hates to lose, so existence is victory enough.

Friday, November 27, 2015

Daily schizophrenis coping log.

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE KEY.

THE KEY TO YOUR SANITY LIES DEEP INSIDE OF YOU, WHEN THERE IS HATE AND ANGER, THERE IS NO SANITY, THE KEY YOU DESIRE TO REGAIN YOUR MIND LIES IN FORGIVENESS, FORGIVENESS FOR EVEN THE MOST TERRIBLE BETRAYALS.  THIS FORGIVENESS YOU MUSTER IS NOT FOR THE BENEFIT OF THOSE WHO HAVE HARMED YOU, BUT FOR YOU AND YOUR MIND, YOUR BENEFIT.  WHEN YOU EMBRACE THE CAUSTIC ACID OF GRUDGES, RETALIATION AND REVENGE, YOU PUMP CORTISOL AND ADRENALINE INTO YOUR BLOOD THAT BURNS YOUR BODY, HEART AND MIND, NOT THAT OF YOUR ENEMIES. THEY DO NOT CARE IF YOU ARE ANGRY, NOR ARE THEY EFFECTED BY IT, BUT YOU ARE. FORGIVENESS IS TO RELEASE YOU AND BRING YOU BACK TO HEALTH.  FORGIVENESS IS NOT ABOUT SOME MISGUIDED DRIVEL OF CHRISTIANITY TO LOVE THY NEIGHBOR, IT IS ABOUT YOU, AND WHAT IS BEST FOR YOU, THIS IS NOT SELFISHNESS, BUT FREEDOM, FREEDOM TO LIVE AGAIN.

Thursday, November 26, 2015

Thanksgiving day schizophrenia vlog check in

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE PAIN.

THE PAIN IS EXCRUCIATING, MY ABDOMEN BULGES, DISTENDED, I SEEK RELIEF AND FIND NONE.   MY HEAD IS SWIMMING IN AGONY AND CONFUSION, BOTH PHYSICAL AND MENTAL, THE BACK OF MY NECK IS STIFF WITH TENSION AND HURT, MY MIND IS BORED AND CONFUSED TODAY, I TRY TO STICK TO MY SCHIZOPHRENIC SCHEDULE, I TRY TO FIGHT THROUGH THE BOREDOM AND PAIN OF THIS DAY TO STAY ACTIVE AND SANE.  THERE IS NO ONE HERE BUT ME AS I TYPE THIS IN SHEER BOREDOM AND LONELINESS.  THERE IS JUST THE DRONING, MADDENING SOUNDS OF THE FANS IN MY ROOM, WHITE NOISE TO BOTH OCCUPY MY MIND AND AT THE SAME TIME MAKE IT SCREAM IN MONOTINY AND FEAR.  I TRY MY BEST EVERYDAY TO COPE, TO SURVIVE, TO LOVE OTHERS DESPITE THE RAGE IN MY HEART AND THE HURT OF MY SOUL.  I SEEK TO HARM NO ONE, NOR MYSELF, I ONLY SEEK CALM AND PEACE IN QUIET MEDITATION, IN THE MIDDLE OF PSYCHOSIS.

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, ALONE

I WRITE THIS IN CAPS, I MUST CONVEY MY EMOTIONS LOUDLY AND CLEARLY, I AM ALONE, THERE IS NOBODY HERE, I WRITE THIS IN DEEP DEPRESSION AND EMPTINESS.  THERE IS NO ONE HERE, THERE IS JUST THE GHOSTS OF MY BRUTAL PAST THAT HAUNT ME, THE GHOSTS OF MY DRUNKEN DEAD MOTHER, THE GHOSTS OF MY EVIL ABUSIVE BROTHERS AND SISTERS, WHO EVEN TODAY SPREAD RUMORS AND LIES ABOUT ME IN AN ATTEMPT TO DESTROY MY LOVE AND RELATIONSHIPS.  I AM WRITHING WITH RAGE, MY BODY IS SHAKING, I SEEK REVENGE BUT CAN HAVE NONE, JAIL AWAITS ME IF I SEEK VENGEANCE, SO THERE WILL BE NO RETALIATION FROM ME TO THEM, I CAN NOT LET THEM DESTROY ME THROUGH MY OWN STUPID MISTAKES THAT WOULD PUT ME IN PRISON, I HAVE CONTROL OVER MYSELF, NOT THEM, I CHOOSE HOW TO REACT TO OTHERS WITH OUT CONTROLING WHAT THEY DO.

Monday, November 23, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE BOREDOM AND FEAR.

THE BOREDOM AND FEAR, THEY ARE PRONOUNCE, PRONOUNCE ENOUGH TO YELL IN AGONY OVER THEM, I HAVE  NO MOTIVATION BECAUSE OF THEM, THEY STOP ME IN MY TRACKS, I SCREAM IN THE FUCKING MONOTINY OF MY FUCKING BORING EXISTENCE.  I AM USELESS, I AM ALONE, WHERE THE FUCK IS EVERYBODY? WHERE HAVE THEY GONE?  ARE THERE LIVES MORE BUSY AND WORTH WHILE THEN MY OWN?  WHY DO THEY GO ABOUT DOING IMPORTANT THINGS AND WHY DO I ROT IN THIS FUCKING ANGRY MISERY?  WHY DO I HAVE NO FRIENDS?  THE PEOPLE AROUND ME MOVE ABOUT, MOTIVATED TO GREATNESS, MOTIVATED TO DO THE ACTIVITIES TOWARD GREAT OUTCOMES, AND I AM MOTIVATED TO SLEEP ALL DAY AND GROW TO BE A FAT, LAZY SLOB. THANKSGIVING IN AMERICA IS COMING IN THREE DAYS, AND I AM FUCKING ALONE, FUCK ALL OF YOU WHO HAVE LEFT ME, FUCK YOU AND YOUR HAPPY HOLIDAYS I CAN NOT HAVE WITH YOU, FUCK ALL OF YOU.

Friday, November 20, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE HEART.

The heart is hardening, the vessels clogged, the flow of life blood is apparently slower, there is no easy answer to the hardening of the heart.  I seek to have no pain, no heart attack, the heart is fickle in sickness and health, but more so in sickness, more likely to have an empty hole in the heart, not easily filled in.  I am in pain, my chest tightening up, a great pressure bearing down on it like an elephant sitting on my chest,  Jesus fucking Christ what do I do ?  I am lost in a sea of agonizing pain.  The normal cures, the most familiar ones no longer work to heal my pain.  I seek respite and find no rest from the pain in my heart.  The fact is she is gone, gone from my life, gone from my heart, you see the suffering is not in the physical, actual heart, but the one in my soul, Sue has moved on and I have not, I am stuck in the past, missing her in my jealousy, drowning in pain.  She is gone but not from my soul, I have had a heart attack in my spirit worse than anything physical in my blood pumping heart.

Monday, November 16, 2015

A poem by GARY G PELOW, THE NERVE.

The nerve of some people is astounding to me, what right do they have to hit me? To sucker punch me like the cowards they are?  I seek justice for this violence against me, they will pay with jail, they will receive their just deserts.  The law is on my side and I WILL SHOW NO MERCY TO THIS FUCKIING CRIMIINAL AND HIS COWARDICE!.  I am afraid all the time because of this asshole, my hands are shaking from the fear, like I am having seizures, seizures of post trauma.  They had no right to attack me, I did nothing wrong, he was caught up in psychosis, in severe disconnection from reality., yet that is no excuse.  How would it be if I was violent and tried to excuse it on the grounds of mental illness? There would be no mercy from the law for me, there would only be punishment and legal revenge against me for my crimes.  I will show no mercy for my enemy of violence, there would be none for me.  I feel nothing but rage over this violence like a pressure cooker overheating, ready to explode, to press charges against this fucking poor excuse for a human being, he is a fuckiing animal, a nonperson.

Sunday, October 11, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, BEING WATCHED

Are they watching me? Why are they suspicous of me? Why do they check through their doors when I am in the hall like I am some kind of thief? I have done nothing wrong, I am not some kind of pervert or criminal that lurks in the hallway, I am of no danger to them, my neighbors who open their doors at my slightest movement or noise to look at me with fear and suspicion, I am no different than they are, I just live here like them, I mean no harm, but they look at me with fear none the less. I do not understand, is this real? Or coincidence? Or is it my paranoia?  I struggle to understand others, but my mind is blocked and clogged like a drain by schizophrenia and paranoia, I wish others would leave me alone, I have done nothing to deserve this fear, it just is not right, not fair that I must live like this with others watching my every move, or at least me believing so.  Another day of fear is ahead, like all those that came before it, the unchanging monotony of fear, depression, worry and mental illness, I will continue to struggle even though part of me wants to die, I will not raise my hands against myself, I WILL NOT BE MY OWN DEMISE OR ENEMY.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE BID.

There is so much in life that can be bought or sold, to the highest bidder
with the right amount of money.
I wonder, do we buy and sell our souls for the highest bid everyday?
If I want sex with my wife, is it because I have bought her with food, housing,
medical care and clothes?
If I give my life as a soldier, if I die for my country, is it because I sold my life
for university financing?
Are the poor and their restlessness calmed down against revolt because they
sold their promise not to agitate with payments from the welfare state?
Did I sell I sell my body and soul to the psychiatrist and government for
payments from Social Security?
I do not believe one needs to sell his soul to Satan or Lucifer to move into
worldly success, there are enough evil, powerful humans to sell that soul to who
will give success for a tremendously high cost, Satan is not real, Satan is just
the name of an idea of real people buying and selling souls.

Thursday, October 1, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE COLD.

There is cold air and wind abounding everywhere I go, the cold of fear.
I would prefer the cold of the lashing winds and chills in the air rather than fear,
I do not even know what I am afraid of, not of death, not of crime, I do not know.
There is great uncertainty in my soul lately, my heart is pounding, I am sweating
in fear in fifty  degree fall weather. My shirt is soaking wet, I have beads of moisture
rolling off my forehead from the intensity of my fear, it is both annoying and
disturbing and embarrassing when people ask me why am I sweating in the cold.
Maybe I am afraid of disapproval, maybe I am afraid of being ridiculed in public
over minor mistakes, this type of event has happened before, the mean spirited
cold laughter of strangers makes me angry, enraged and fearful. Maybe I just do not
like people in general, the world in general, maybe I hate everyone, all of
humanity for their evil ways of not liking me, childish as that is. I am still sweating
but I am cold, cold with wet fear.

Friday, September 25, 2015

Lee Carrol and the fucked up cult of Kryon, cosmic jackass

My favorite youtubers and atheism.

Daily dealing with schizophrenia vlog entry

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, WAITING PERIOD

There is a waiting period for change to take place,
I do not want to wait, like a petulant child  I cry for time to hurry up.
I am sinking deeper into the dark and fast losing my grip in the dark,
there is not much time left before I collapse from sheer exhaustion of
waiting in the terrible, quiet heat, perspiring from this horrible heat.
The therapist has not called yet, there is yet no sign of what will happen, if
it happens, and when.
I am growing more angry and desperate everyday, I am sicker with each
passing day and no end in sight, they have got to call, they have to go
faster.  This fucking shit is getting more painful, I want to fucking scream,
yet if I did that I would be seen as a lunatic in the throes of insanity.
I  am not going to die though over this, that kind of surrender will not happen,
nor will violence, to give up and in to these two things will not happen,
I will never fucking surrender to anyone that way, so I will wait, wait in silence.

Monday, September 21, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW TIME.

There is no more time, the gig is up, the secret is out and about.
The truth of my situation has been revealed in its raw form,
there is no more hiding from the truth, I am mentally ill.
This has gone public, public on video, it is best that everyone knows.
If I meet that special soulmate, the one I will truly love,
there will be no lies or rumors about me she would have to secretly mine
through to get to the truth about me, it is in the open, publicly for anyones
perusal, to gain truth and knowledge about me, being mentaally ill
in my case is not based on hiding the truth or the information, with no secrets
there are no rumors, what they say aabout me in secret is not a secret
to destroy or sabatoge my reputation, I am free.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, SCHIZOPHRENIA

I MUST YELL AT THE TOP OF MY LUNGS,
SCREAMING AT THOSE WHO STALK ME IN THEIR GANGS,
THESE FUCKING TEENAGERS STALKING ME,
CALLING THEIR SUPERIORS ON ME,
MEANT TO MAKE ME COMMIT SUICIDE
OR GO INSANE FROM THEM CROWDING ME.
I AM TIRED, WEAK', DEPLETED OF ALL HOPE AND AMBITION.
I AM AFRAID LIKE I WAS IN CHILDHOOD PEOPLE BEATING ME UP,
FOLLOWING ME, GETTING READY TO ATTACK ME,
THE FEELINGS ARE THE SAME, I AM ALONE IN THIS,
NO ONE CARES, EVEN IF THEY DID THEY WOULD NOT NOR COULD THEY
HELP ME.

Monday, September 14, 2015

RE-UPLOAD - 10 Mind-Numbing Questions God is full of shit

A poem by GARY G PELOW, THE INPATIENT

There is a situation where I am like a prisoner in a guilded cage.
This situation does not fill me with rage in this cage, just impatience.
This is suppose to help me they say, with the struggle ahead I must face.
There is a choice I must make while I am in the cushioned prison, though it is not a decision to make as if  I were in a race.
This decision must be made carefully, it is to be approached with thought.
There are many factors to consider, many variations and points of veiw.
I often wonder about others who face this, are they strong and stoic?
Do they feel fear at this approaching dawn of electricity, are they heroic?
There is much for them to decide in the guilded cage of psychiatry.
In fear many people are of this fluid situation, as if there is internal struggle and anarchy.
Shock treatments are not easy to endure, there is no pain, just confusion and loss of memory.
So I will wait here, wait until it is finished and when I am well again.

Sunday, September 13, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE WAIT

I am still waiting ever so impatiently for them to make contact, to make a decision,
I am very angry at their cavalier attitudes torwards my predicament, the mood
in me is only getting worse, my paranoia stronger with each passing day, I am
sitting here waiting for them to decide, to do my treatments or not, my feeling
of frustration is growing and growing, there has to be a decision, my future is
in the balance, my health on the line.
 I am tired and frightened by every bump or noise outside my door, startled by
the littlest of things.  I am growing so tired of this waiting, I am tired of people
looking at me suspicously, to see if I am doing any wrong.  My room mate stares
at me startled by every noise or move I make, like I am a burglar in my own home.
The treatments are coming, they will help me out of this rain forest and jungle
of fear.  There is controversy over these treatments, to this aproach to mental illness,
these electroshock treatments, but I have taken this journey before, safely I might
add.  There is no cause for alarm, there will no permanent damage, just recovery.
Yet I STILL HAVE TO WAIT PATIENTLY OR IMPATIENTLY, this seems unbearable, yet
I bare it. I bear it in hope of inner peace.

Friday, September 11, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE RIGHTER

There is a right way to do things and a wrong way to do things,
but who decides right from wrong? That seems to me to be a dilemna,
after all even God can not seem to make up his mind about right and wrong,
he does not seem able to decide what his name is. I think of all his different names,
Allah, JESUS, GOD, YAWEH, JEHOVA, ELOIM, BUDDHA, KRISHNA, and so on.
Quite a confusing set of circumstances, these names and all, how could this God
decide morality, or that which is right or wrong, especially for me, and you!
I prefer to think of humans as being inherently moral and good, with out this
GOD person. I do not need an imaginary play mate that lives in the sky playing
solitaire to tell me that which is right or wrong, moral or immoral, GOOD IS THAT
WHICH REDUCES SUFFERING, both for humanity, the individual self, you see it is in our genes that contain both good and evil, there is that which reduces pain, suffering, the altrustic nature of all species to protect there own, both the group and the individual, morality in this sense is needed for physical survival of a species,
we do not need the imaginry Captain Crunch in the sky.

Monday, September 7, 2015

God's Top 10 Life Hacks #Jesus #God

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, IMPATIENCE

I am impatient, waiting for it to come or arise into my presence,
they have not called me because they are at rest today, being LABOR DAY,
I am wringing my hands in worry and anticipation
I await my emancipation,
emancipation from the mental hell fire I endure everyday, the abscense of peace,
there is a chance it might get worse, and soon and not slowly, it may increase,
so I await in silence for them to start easing my pain, I want this horror to decrease,
if there is a chance this situation alive with electricity will help, I must proceed.
They will all be present at the beginning, the shrink, the nurses, to see my needs,
there will be the oxygen of life, the heart monitor set to intercede if need be,
I will be a sleep the entire time as we will begin to release the healing electricity,
there wil be no pain, just temporary oblivion as we start the electricconvulsive therapy to blunt and remove my mental symptoms.

Sunday, September 6, 2015

Hellraiser IV: Bloodline (6/8) Movie CLIP - I Am Pain (1996) HD #Rebecca Watson #skepchick.org

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE BURNING

There is a burning going on, a burning of both  the body and mind, perhaps the soul as well, the sun todays beats down from the sky, burning the skin and dehydrating the body. The medications of the mind causes extra scourching of the skin, made more vulnerable by these meds of the mind.  There is also a burning of the soul and mind brought to me by madness, madness of the brain and its dysfuction, the soul is burdened by disembodied voices, that threaten and insult me, but with no power to carry out these threats, because those insults and threats are a creation of the mind, or brain, depending on your view of the world. I am sweating to day looking like I just got out of a swimming pool, that is how wet I am from sweat due to this demonic sun and heat.  I do feel relief inside my room, the sun is blocked in there, the heat controlled and beaten back by fans, relieved by potable water in a one gallon jug.
I wish there was such a barrier for my mind as well, but there is none.  There is nothing to quench the pain and mind in a one gallon jug. So, one day at  time.

Tuesday, September 1, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, FEAR.

I am filled with fear of all kinds, it seems like there is no limit to my fears,
I am so afraid of all events, afraid of everything, my mind is filled with imagined
problems, disaters and concerns, I know these things that I feel afrid of are minor, not real, not worthyy of panic even if these events, worries and concerns were real, they do not deserve my fear and worry. I am keyed up to hyperactive levels in mind and body, my hands are shaking as I type this, with so many errors.  My heart is pounding at high speed from these anxieties and preoccupations, my blood pressure is probably high from increased  adrenaline, this is not healthy to have my body assaulted by physical excitement all of the time, it is fucking exhausting to be afraid and angry all the time, adrenaliine is not meant to be poured into ones blood for hours on end, it is suppose to excite you and alert you temporarily when physical danger arises as a real threat, I do not think these threats of worry are real, but they feel as if they are.

Friday, August 28, 2015

Feminism Against Women Rebecca Brink, Flare and Fade, skepchick,rebecca watson, feminist frequency, anita sarkeesian

A poem by GARY G PELOW, FEAR

Why are people afraid of this? Why do they fear that which is not known to them?
I have done this before, it  is not new to me, it is safe and effective, a bad reputation that is from cinema and undeserved, yes there is indeed fear and misunderstanding
about this born of ignorance, born of not learning, born of not bothering to ask questions to learn about it, there is nothing to fear, no need for concern of my safety
or brain damage, I have done this before, this electroshock therapy, there is nothing about it today that matches it feaarful ignorant movie potrayals like the cuckoo, wish me well, we are all in a journey of knowledge.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

GREASE - "There Are Worse Things (I Could Do)"

A Flock Of Seagulls - Wishing (If I Had a Photograph of You)

Stand Up To Christian Terrorists!

THERE IS A TIME

There is a time in the past when I was happy, times that I rejoiced in life,
in the sufferinng of the moment, memory of these times are blocked by pain
as if they never happened, but they did happen, if you let yourself to remember
these times even in psychosis, especially in psychosis, the pain of the present
is lessoned.
I remember my nine brothers and sisters as children and me with them,
yes we struggled and fought amongst ourselves, but there was more laughter
and joy than there was pain, it is funny to remember the simple things of childhood,
like my red plastic skate board, or my Duncan yoyoo.  God knows there were good
times, even when I was physically tortured by a so called friend of the family,
Tony Cachamilio, I still survived by play and joy, that filthy man could never take that from me, I am getting better by any means needed.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

David Duke Debates Alex Jones (8-18-15)

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW A BETTER DAY

A better day is coming, a day the voices can not stop, a day of freedom,
free of my own mind and the demons of psychosis aand confusion,
yes it is a difficult fight, a vision hard to see when all seems dead and empty.,
There is hope alive in determination, even in the face of incredible pain and
discord, how, may you ask does one fight his own mind, be his own worse
enemy and fight himself? There are weapons in this war, this civil war in your mind,
first is do not stay idle, almost anything done physically holds back the inner
demons.  Second understand there are no real demons, that is just a word of internal psychic pain. Thirdly, do not waste time praying to a nonexistent god or gods,
that is a fools errand, fourth, avoid violence or making threats of violence that bring prison for the mentally ill person, five take the pills or treatments given,  I TRIED SAILING ALONE WITHOUT MY CHEMICAL FRIENDS, I FAILED EVERYTIME.
Six for the love of god, do not sit idle and alone, it is better to move and be in pain from resisting your negative symptoms, moving in mollases, yet in the end the pain of doing nothing is worse and more tormenting.

Friday, August 21, 2015

AC/DC - Thunderstruck

A POEM BY GARY PELOW, SOLID CHEMICAL FORTITUDE

I today begin the day with a solid form of courage in a  very frightening world,
yes I know some of you will complain, you will say I am only sugar coating and hiding the deeper roots of my insanity, you will accuse me of being unmotivated to get better and instead use a crutch to drag myslf through the day, not faceing my
problems deep inside my brain and mind and soul, a band aid you say, a stop gap to be lazy so as not to do real work into my mind, that is bull shit, for 25 years and dozens of therapists I have bored into my psyche for answers to my torment and came up with
facts that while true, did nothing to end my hellish torment of hallucintions and paranoia, Sigmund Freud, he was useless, although well meaning, in the whirl pool
of my psychosis, a brain disease of the material reality, not of talk therapy, words
will not cure or reduce my pain, no one has a right to judge me, the solid courage are medications to stabilize me so I can do the hard work.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW

There is nothing to be done, the schedule is empty
there are no important activities to engage myself with,
I am bored, stunted in spirit and motivation.
I seek out my addictions, food, sex, cigarettes, to compfort me for just a fleeting moment.
I walk in the hot sun, nothing to do, no where to go, no destination, just walking.
I fill the time with mindless endeavors online, on my tablet, my only friend,
it does not judge or insult me, it does not threaten me with violent harm, it uses
no violence or insults against me, this friend quietly does what I want it to do.
I wish it were alive, so I would have someone, something to talk to,
God my dreams and hopes are pathetic, to talk to a machine more then people
is not normal, it is a sign of quiet sanity, refecting from nothing to do, nohing stopping the banality of my life.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Why Christianity Is Immoral. fuck christians

Josh Feuerstein, Islam and other Holy Crap (Guest Video - Creationist Cat)

Manly P. Hall - A Second Look at the Law of Karma

Manly P. Hall - A Second Look at the Law of Karma

White Feminism vs Racist Feminism angry women of color united

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, FEAR IN THE SUN

I walk in the hot sun in Rochester, NY with fear thay they will hurt me,                            I do not know who they are, they are invisible enemies, people who spy on me, I have no proof of these unseen enemies plotting to destroy me, no empirical evidence of their existence, Jesus Fucking Christ I am alone and scared, I am alone amidst other people, no one cares, no one gives a shit, except the voices in me that try to tell me things, dangerous things, they grow louder, they are frightening me, I am awash in fear, I am totally alone, no one to share these hellish things with.  I am exhausted from physical shaking and hellish insomnia, which only makes my hellish psychosis worse, all roads lead to my own hell, both narrow and wide, all roads before me, I have no options, no respite, I must travel these paths in and out of hell over and over again.

Thursday, August 13, 2015

BBC Northern Ireland Bloody Friday Documentary

A POEM BY AUTHOR GARY G PELOW, THE VOICES

I am outside, sitting, doing nothing just, sitting in front of a store, a department store, thinking he is looking at me, threatening me with his eyes, getting ready to swear at me, getting ready to attack, to cause me violence, my voices in my head tell me he is quietly swearing at me, which I have no proof of.  I am locked into fear, delusions and hallucinations today, it has been worse in the past than this today, my schizophrenia and its signs, are pounding me down through fear, shame and guilt.
The more I want to scream, the more my voices scream at me with filthy vulgarities and obscene threats and name calling, my fucking head is spinning in pain and dizziness.  There has never been hope that I would ever be truly free and healthy in mind, at best I may achieve a peaceful quiet restrained psychosis as opposed to frightening psychosis, it is a matter of degree and imperfect solutions, yet that is all life has left me.

Sunday, August 9, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR GARY G PELOW, THE NERVE

The nerve of some people, the nerve they have to judge me, it is insane,
or is it just my own imagination that bothers me?
I am alone in the pit of darkness of anger and the fear of being punished,
accused, or raising suspicion of others to the point they have the nerve and audacity
to punish me, to humiliate me for imaginary offenses or accusations based on misunderstandings.
I try my best to do no wrong or blunder into mistakes causing the wrath of others,
perhaps I worry to much about the opinions of others, trapped in fear of them.
I only want to be left alone, I ask nothing more than that, I do not seek money, fame,
or the pain of others.
I just want all of you to leave me alone to my own private hell, I seek nothing else.
After all is said and done I am alone anyway, Arlene has gone into the eternal darkness.
Heidi now loves someone else other than me, we were together one month, than she was gone with the nerve to abandon me.
The pain and fear of being around others is getting intolerable, I hate humanity
and seek only quiet without bother or judgement of others.

Thursday, July 30, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE BOREDOM

The boredom of my life is felt strongly today, I do not know how to stay busy,
there is nothing to be done, no schedule to follow, my body is lethargic in the boredom.  I move moment by moment to nowhere in particular, the heat of todays
sun beating down on me causing  me to sweat, to seat in the boredom of my life,
The fans are on, yet the heat continues to torment me in my boredom, there seems
to be no purpose in my life or direction, I float place to place like a beach ball on
the waves of the ocean, with no  discernable goal.  I hate this fuckin, thiss fucking
life, yet I do not have the courage to end it, to destroy it and my pain, yet I will
not physically end it , I flounder about in physical and mental suffering in my
psychosis, this psychosis that adds to my torment, torment of the heat, my troubled
mind.  The ironic thing is that I can not function any better in tthe bitter cold of
winter and blizzars that makes breathing difficult, in fact, this  passed winter I
passed out and fell in to two feet of snow, no one helped, they saw and did nothing,
you see I am alone and always will be alone, a bored loser.

Sunday, July 26, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE LEFT

It is a frightening thing, the left wing of the bell hooks and its version of feminism, they make my skin crawl like insects are burrowing into my flesh, they' the feminists
are liars, their base is the base of radical marxism, they do not truly fight for the rights
of women, they instead seek to undermine democracy with the reintroduction
of segregation, they yell and scream in favor of hate of a nonexistent patriarchy,
they seek to confuse and destroy anyone or any philosophy that is opposing them,
I oppose them and their hatred of democracy, their racism in the guise of womens rights, they seek division of the free world and its values of freedom, they seek to destroy freedom of speech by shutting down the voices that seek freedom and speak openly against the radical feminism of bigotry and hate, they split the races in two, they destroy others through false words, words of yelling and screaming instead of rational discourse, they seek to divide the United States by race and gender, and their
goal is to control you with fake accusations of hate and bigotry, they label opponents as racists of the nonexistent white patriarchy that does not exist, I urge you to not listen to them, bell hooks and the feminist industry that sells hate for cash, together we will defeat them.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, LIARS

Why do you lie Sarkeesian? Why does the infamous bell hooks lie?
There is an evil in our mist, a disguised monster of lies,
about a fake feminist movement, it claims of standing up as feminists
is a lie, this lie, brought to you by the radicals of marxism Anita Sarkeesian,
they masquerade as supporters of women, they are lying to you,
they seek only control of other womens choices, they want to create
a society of destruction womens personal freedom and  choices by
instituting a radical destruction of society, rebuilt as a marxist
society to control women into their version of femininism
that is in practice, will produce results much like white supremacy,
dictatorship is dictatorship regardless of the mask it wears,
I hope women are both discerning and brave, brave enough
to see the monster of lies and fight it for the sham that it is,
men and women must unite, all races must unite, but not as
marxists, not as liars, please fight this monster with me,
fight it to protect the true soul of feminism hijacked by
psychotic extremists, I know I am intimately aquainted
with psychosis, do not get caught up in the lies of radicalism,
be a thinker, a critical one, one that examines evidence for a position instead
of lies based on hateful emotion.











Tuesday, July 14, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR POET GARY G PELOW, INDEPENDENCE DY.

Who is in control? The psychosis, or relatives or friends? Perhaps no one
is in control when psychosis comes to a person, or maybe the people in control
are family and friends, there by robbing the independence and automony of the
sick in mind.  There is nothing like the psychiatric slavery of control by others that wounds the sick, stealing self esteem.  I struggle myself to balance help from others
and my personal freedom and control over my own destiny, setting my own goals
within reason, and pursue those goals and dreams.  Do not I deserve love and companionship? Do not I have a right to try employment within the realities of
my limitations? I understand schizophrenia helps to limit someone, but does not
totally destroy a persons capacity to chase and accomplish dreams and goals set
by oneself and not to others who mean well, but come off as mean to us the sick

Friday, July 10, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, THE WALK.

I walk down the street of insanity, he has not paid the money he owes me,
as a coward he avoids me, he is a fucking asshole, with his yelling and screaming and drinking and drugging, I can not stand this motherfucker, so fucking arrogant is he, robbing me of money and respect, trying to use me to make his life more cozy leaving me in the dirt to languish to death in the dust, my hands are trembling, I walk with fear and panic, my psychotic way of thinking is crushing me and tearing me apart as I blindly walk and stumble through life with fear and suspiciousness from others that want to accuse me of things not done, to puniish me for nothing, I am innocent of all charges what ever they maybe, I scream inside from fear and anger, I AM TIRED, YET SLEEP DOES NOT COME AND ADDS TO MY PAIN AND EMPTINESS.  I walk with my hands and body shaking in fear, fear and psychosis I would not want to wish on my worst enemy, I AM ALONE!

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, STROKE OF LUCK

It is boiling today, the sun is pounding the city of Rochester , New York this day,
July seventh, 2015, the sun rips into the skin with seering heat on the schizophrenic
that swallows pills to control voices, paranoia and delusions, necessary to function
everyday, the sun has no mercy even on the normal of mind but is especially cruel on the ill of mind, blocking melotonin and raising body temperature and depleteing the body of water.  The ultraviolet rays burn and scorch the skin, yet even on cloudy days that are hot, heat stroke and dehydration still happen, the visibility of the sun is
not required to have the heat steal your bodys salt and water. Over time, the heat depletes you of ability to move or excercise, however they may not be wise to do in the heat or sun anyway, I do not understand the fanatics who run in ninety degree
temperatures, they are gambling with their lives in the open furnace of outdoors.
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST IT IS HOT TODAY, very uncompfortable, very dangerous, and yes I used the name of your imaginary friend Jesus in vain, no matter he is just a fairy tale of the desperate afraid of death and oblivion, besides, in this heat it is very difficult to believe in GOD of any stripes.

Saturday, July 4, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, RIGHT/LEFT WING NUTS.

The damaging effect of right/left wing stupidity on the mentally ill is extremely dangerous in deed, the right hand wants to cut funding, the left hand leaves people homeless in the name of liberty, to not be incarcerated, in hospitals ironically they are now warehoused in jails and prisons, left wing deinstitutionism has failed, for 40 fucking years, hospitals close, people are turned away from hospitals, to be alone on the street in the sweltering heat of summer and subzero temperatures of winter. This
situation is unfair to correction officers, they are not docs or nurses, yet they are forced by circumstance to act as such in prisons and jails, the new asylums.  I have schizophrenia, I am lucky, I have a place to live, I am lucid enough to handle my own money and bills, on medications of course. the times are less difficult when you have a roof over you, EVEN IF IT IS A HOSPITAL YOU LIVE IN.  The far right wants to abandon the mentally ill to live in confusion and pain expecting over taxed churches to fill the void of less governmental help for the sick in mind, believe me these churches, synagouges and mosques try their best to get down and in the gutter to help  their efforts are heroic and needed, yet they can not due what the government can, where do you stand or sleep  when churches are pushed to the breaking point, reluctantly turning people away from help, this is brought to you by the far right.

Friday, July 3, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, FASCISM BY BLOG.

They are extremely dangerous to freedom and free speech or thought,
they blog intensely dangerous rhetoric, these feminist social justice warriors who use the social justice label as a  means to shame and shut up their opponents,
they fight over ridiculous jokes and cartoon characters, things done in jest to them,
these feminist fascists, are a reason to berate and threaten their opponents,
getting peole fired from their jobs, or make false accusations online to
attempt to destroy falsely the reputations, to cause gossip, you see there is no
social justce from these feminists, that is just slight of hand, fake feminist issues
to destroy others, accusing them of racism and mysoginy where there is none,
they complain about cartoons in video games as somehow being sexist, ignoring
real oppression of vulnerable women who have no voice, like women with
psychiatric problems in jail or living on the streets, these women on the outside
of sanity looking in.  FREE THOUGHT BLOGS AT FREETHOUGHTBLOGS.COM IS AN EXAMPLE OF VICIOUS FEMINIST VIPERS WHO LIE AND ABUSE OTHERS.

Thursday, July 2, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, SECOND CHANCE

I have made great errors and poor decisions in my life, I will blame no one
but myself, I have often brought my own misery and suffering, I plead guilty
as charged.  I will try to do whats right from now on, I beg the universe to
give me a second chance, to allow me time to make up for my evil deeds,
there is so much begging for forgiveness from all who I may have hurt
that I must strive for in a granted second chance, to make amends to people
harmed by my nonvirtuos behavior. The pain and suffering of victims is
to be laid at my door step, not others, oh, I have not hurt anyone physically,
psychologicly I have cuased great harm to others, as well as pain of mind and
spirit, the most painful kind of harm, others have cried in anguish because of
me, if I am granted a second chance by providence or karma, I will work
diligently to try to make amends to everyone that I have caused harm to,
as AA likes to say, to repent of evil deeds and asking for forgiveness from all
victims that are in pain that I have caused. PAIN OF SPIRIT AND MIND IS CRIPPLING TO ONES LIFE AND ACTIVITIES, CRIPPLING TO ANY CHANCE OF SUCCESS.
I wish to paralyze no one, not others or myself, I only seek to be given a second chance at being forgiven.

Monday, June 29, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW ,UNTIED

I am tied to the past, shackled to horrible events of the past,
I am tied with a gordion knot to psychosis and depression, the past is here,
now, it rises up like a dragon of legend that breathes fire to destroy
any chance of happiness in the here and now, my now has been stolen
from me, I shake in fear there will be no recovery from the madness of
the past. There are no outside heros in this war to rescue me, I am alone
in this, in this emptiness, I have done many things wrong in the past,
I seem to have no compassion or forgivess for myself, none for the enemies,
the Buddha has tried to help me to show compassion for my enemies,
also forgivness , without these, compassion and forgiveness over past events
 a person can burn alive with hatred and revenge, a rage so hot it burns holes in my
stomach, this happened once before, in anger and drugs, with germs of the
gut, a hole opened up in the lining of my stomach, I vomited pure blood,
I almost died, but did not, a reason not to die by my own hands, to live.

Tuesday, June 23, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, IT.

IT IS HERE, IT IS ALIVE, IT HUNTS US, IT THREATENS ARE VERY EXISTENCE.
IT IS POWERFUL, COERCIVE, SUBVERSIVE, IT TELLS MANY LIES TO GET WHAT IT WANTS, IT IS NOT ABOVE STEALING, IT IS NOT ABOVE LIES OR VANITY.
IT IS EVERYWHERE WE LOOK, ON TELEVISION, IN BUILDINGS, ON THE STREET.
THEY ARE POWERFUL OVER THE PEOPLE THIS CRIMINAL ENTERPRISE, FOR THAT IS WHAT IT IS, IT HAS NO SHAME IN COMMITING FRAUD, OF STEALING MONEY BY LIES TOLD AND TRUTHS WITHHELD,  IT SCREAMS AT THE TOP OF ITS ABILITY TO THREATEN US, TO MURDER US BY WAR AND VIOLENCE, IT COMES IN ALL FLAVORS,
WHITE, BROWN, YELLOW, RED, NO ONE IS INNOCENT OF THE CRIMES IT COMMITS, WELCOME TO RELIGION, WELCOME TO THE FAIRY TALES OF GOD. CAPS ALL

Sunday, June 21, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, UP AND DOWN

Up and down my head goes, up and down in mood,
like a blue angel pilot screaming with speed up and down in the sky,
the pilot is Limictal, in bipolar, I am the passenger, with a wreckless pilot,
there is no control on my part over the velocity, speed and direction.
Am I the pilot or the passener of this jet? Am I the mechanic?
If the plane is damaged or running low on fuel, how do I gain control?
Can I gain control? Is is it possible or am I a captive in the jet in my mind?
I have flown and lost control in many ways, lost control to tobacco, to sex,
to craving.  The Buddha use to say that craving is at the core of human suffering,
I am full of such craving, unable to temper or control my habits.
I do not like being a slave to craving anymore than I want to be pilot out of control,
was the Buddha correct about human suffering and craving? Is there
hope for self control in the Buddha's teachngs? Can I learn these lessons
from 2,500 years ago, before Christ was ever born?
Are these lessons of long ago really valuable or are they fruitless like all religions
that promise peace and and health and life and deliver nothng?



/

Friday, June 19, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, HEAD STRUCKED

THE POUNIDING WILL NOT STOP,
I SCREAM IN SILENCE
I SCREAM ALONE, IN PAIN, IN SOLATUDE,
MY HEAD IS STRUCK, STRUCK LIKE A ROCK TO THE SKULL,
IT FEELS LIKE SOMEONE IS CRUSHIING IT WITH AN IRON BAND WRAPPED AROUND MY FUCKING HEAD, TIGHTER AND TIGHTER,
THIS DOES NOT HELP THE PSYCHOSIS OF MY BRAIN,
THE ILLNESS THAT I SWALLOW CHEMICALS FOR, TO TREAT IT,
JESUS FUCKING CHRIST IT HURTS,  I AM DIZZY WITH PAIN,
ALEVE DOES NOT HELP, NOR TYLENOL, NOR ASPIRIN,
I WISH I COULD SHOOT MORHINE FOREVER TO MY BLOOD STREAM,
YET I CAN NOT, I WRITE THIS IN PAIN, FUCKING PAIN, IN CAPS OF SILENT SCREAMING, TO LET YOU HEAR MY PAIN, THE FUCKING PAIN.

Thursday, June 18, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, THE NERVE.

The nerve is raw today, opened and exposed.  Their irritating behavior burns across the nerve, I hate the fucking pain in my mind, the head aches are constant now, there is no respite of this torture.  I am dyeing inside, I have emotional cancer burning in me, draining my life.  I look for a cure and only find poison, both mental and physical, it is like my nerves are being ripped out of my body, this is not an exxageration.  I am alone in my pain, isolated, alone and unloved, of course love is no cure for pain of body and soul, it only adds pain.  The garbage I have to put up with never abates, it is like I have to tread water for ever in water that never dries and is turbulent in its tiring waves.

Monday, June 15, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/ POET GARY G PELOW, RAGE

The rage is strong today,
it will not go away,
at least not easily, my head is poundingwiith pain and anger.
I am frustrated beyond just my normal psychocis and symptoms,
I want to hit something, to throw something, to smash it into pieces.
I hate ny fucking life of boredom and no friends,
fucking ground hog day, ever the same boring fucking shit of my life,
I am sick of being punished for the fucking same shit others get away with,
fucking room mates of mine trying to fucken punish me,
who the fuck are they? Fucking thugs, fucking animals.
I want to fucking scream at them and others or even when I alone, to no one in particular, the whole fuckiing world sucks today, I want to say fuck you to everyone and their dog,

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, SLOW AND EMTY

I am slow and empty inside my soul, things are to routine, to boring, not enough to do, this is extra difficult with schizophrena, an empty schedule, nothing to do leaves you or me wide open and vulnerable to delusion, hallucinations and psychosis, I try to stay busy, with my spanish lessons and knowledge that is self taught, I write my poetry and prose to afffect hope in those who are like me, yet it does not seem enough to do, I am bored, irritated and lonely in this spring and summer heat that beats down on my house from the sky, beats down on me and my empty soul, a soul devoid of hope and happiness, I struggle with the pain of no change, no new challenges, of banality in my existence that can not be truly called life, I am a parody, a joke, a symbol of faking importance and talent, an empty self taught lie to ease the pain and hide the truth of my empty soul.

Monday, June 8, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, SHALLOW BREATH

It was frightening to experience, to not breath and knowing every breath may bring death, respitory failure may cause death the doctor told me last night, so I sought medical care, afraid as hell as I struggled to breath, not wanting to die, this is true even in my deepest psychosis and depression, suicide is not an option, death is feared by me, I suppose in a manner of speaking this fear saves my life, last night in the hospital I was sweating with fear and shaking over the impending feeling of death, there is no clear answer to why this happened, there is no found lung or heart disease, yet I feel there was a physical reason for my struggle to breath, that it was more than just panic gone insane, it felt so physical and  as of yet, there is no answer to the mystery of my breathing problem, but it was frightening, facing death, only wishing life and not obilvion, for an atheist death is oblivion, nonexistence, yet I cannot believe in a cruel evil dictator in the sky, I will not believe in childish fables of god or gods because such lies would compfort me, I am an adult, not a child with an imaginary friend in the sky, that fake horrible dictator.

Saturday, June 6, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, THE DOOR KNOB.

I broke it off, not on purpose, I broke off the bath room door knob, I shook in fear of being punished for this event, yelled or screaming at me, I do not wish to bring anyone to rage and anger, I try my best to avoid such errors, fruitlessly looking for perfection in myself and others.  Jesus fucking tap dancing masturbating Christ I am so afraid and worried right know, I am fucking exhausted and tired from the energy that is drained from me to maintain constant fear and paranoia.  You see this is the reason for my sureness that god or gods do not exist in any form or conception, such a good if real, from the Old Testament, or Koran, is so cruel he or she would be unworthy of worship and devotion by any man, woman or child.  I know in my heart of hearts, mi corazon, that gods are no more real than leperchuans and unicorns, why the fuck would I worship a god or gods that either allow evil to happen or can not even stop evil from happening, so the question of the ages is this, is the god or gods just ineffecitve or a perfect liar as he speaks to his followers of imaginary love for man or imaginary mercy and compassion.?

Friday, June 5, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR GARY G PELOW, THE CREATIONIST.

The creationist believes in a superstitious lie, the lie of a young earth, the lie of a god who cares, yet does not exist.  The young earthers cling to fables of the bronze age, an age of ignorance and no understanding of how nature and reality behaves.  If their god does exist, which it does not, as they the creationists describe him, this fake god, is not worthy of my worship or yours.  The fable of christians, muslims and jews alike are violent and dangerous, they create war, death, murder and genocide world wide.
Yesterday someone had the nerve to tell me they wll pray for me, fuck your prayers and the time wasted in sayng them, do not have the arrogance to force your beliefs upon me by way of fake concern for my nonexistent .eternal soul and fake salvation.  Jesus fucking tap dancing masturbating Christ, your evil of arrogance is born from lies told for ten thousand years of mans existence, they vary in detail these lying fables of history, but the theme is the same, be afraid of my sky god, or gods, or be killed and suffer in hell, this is the refrain of all religion and spiritual beliefs.  The imaginary friend in the sky is dangerous, not because he is real in any form, but because grown adult world leaders mke major decisions for all base on lies, a truy violent journey I have already mentoned.  SO KEEP YOUR FUCKING LIES TO YOURSELF AND DO NOT CORRUPT THE CHILDREN, EVEN YOUR OWN, WITH THESE LIES.

Monday, June 1, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW' CONTROL.

I have no control over others, that is true for anyone yet I still seek such control in defiance of logic and reality, everything is confusing, moving to fast, god I wish I could calm these nerves, I am steeped in despair over the ideas that everyone hates me, I feel rejected and hated by others.  Of course I know that is not a reflection of reality, but a reflection of my paranoia, fear, and too much caffiene in pill form.  I am alone and shaking, absorbing the hate and anger from people that are not real but a mirror of schizophrenia, for three years now I have been running in fear, moving three times over the idea, some true, that people want to kill me, for I have offended a man called Kevin, he did indeed threaten to kill me in Brockport New York, and the  fear fed itself  and spread from Keving to everyone, everyone folowng me, crowding me, gang stalking me, I am tired of living in fear of violence yet I will not commit suicide or acts of violence, so I sit in a pile of fear, like someone sitting in their own excrement, for years on end with no help or water to wash it off, Jesus fucking Christ I hate this fucking world but I fear death and jail and homelessness, so I keep fighting to stay alive, to stay active, I am not surrending to ghostly aparitions and false enemies, it is odd I believe, to be psychotic and be totally aware of that fact, when many other crazies can not see their own sickness and are completely lost in a universe of psychotic unawareness, unaware of their own pain, or solutions to stop it, so what is control? How is that word defined and who gets to define it? I once was told by a mentor, you or I have the right to try and influence our physical reality and people, yet no one can reasonably expect you to control them.

Sunday, May 31, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, THE TIME IS SHORT

The time is short, running out quickly, possibly before the prospect of success, success of treatment of my psychosis, I need to act as soon as possible on this problem, yet to take care of details of this venture of mine, it is curious that the change of diagnosis, and the right treatment did not come until the age of 49 going on fifty years.  I am angry over the wasted years and the wasted drugs that has been taken for over 35 years, I blame my family and childhood enemies of mine for programing me to fail, to program me to failure through violence, ridicule and insults regularly heeped  upon me by these vile people who I no longer call family, one sister dead by suicide, but that is not my road for the future, no I will not surrender to them or my psychosis, those voices and delusions of schizophrenia, no, I am to angry to surrrender to this bullshit of enemies and psychosis, if someone wants me dead, they will have to kill me themselves, I am not my sister, there will be no gun in my mouth, I will fight this battle even as time runs out, doing the best I can before natural age annd death occurs.

Wednesday, May 27, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR POET GARY G PPELOW, THE STARTLED.

Hands are shaking, trembling with extra energy, startled by sudden sounds and noises, I think they are trying  to got me, to spy on me, with no proof in my psychotic state.  I am very tired and exhausted to the point of severe despair, I am alone, it is my own doing, I caused this pain, no other person or people did this to me, I scream and yell obscenities and vulgar words in a state of delusional hysteria, these are the events that made me be alone, god I hate this life, I am not going down the rod of suicide or violence, it is not in me to do such things, things born of desperaation and rage, I will avoid these things even in my despair, I will not self destruct or go to prison for my own violent stupiity.  No one cares or gives a shit about my plight, they who I hate, they pass me by as I die internally, as I am crushed under the weight of my self loathing. I seek excuses nd others to blame for my pain, those are dishonest actions on my part, JESUS FUCKING CHRIST I AM TIRED, SO TIRED, I HATE MY FUCKING LIFE OF BOREDOM AND QUIET AGITATION. WILL NO ONE HELP ME, YOU SEE I DO NEED HELP, I AM A FUCKING HUMAN, I DESERVE BETTER FROM YOU ASSHOLES.

Wednesday, May 20, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR POET GARY G PELOW, THE INSTITUTION

It has gotten better since the hospital, the paranoia is less but not gone, two chemicals have been added to the regimine and plan of recovery. I seek to feel better, I have always sought to feel better and this has come to pass in my struggle for sanity, I am more alive with less fear, less worry about the future and my insanity getting worse. I would thank GOD for the recovery if I believed, but I do not, I see no evidence in the imaginary friend who lives in the sky as a brutal dictator against his own creatiion and his torture of it.  I see no reason to worship that dictator even if  it is real, it is to cruel and does not merit love and worship, so I fight on without the skygods in fantasy, I push forward with my life with science and rationality as my guide to understanding, to my appreciation of the universe, to better my mental health,  I seek to lower the fear and paranoia, a life long struggle.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

A poem by author/poet GARY G PELOW, THE BOREDOM.

Sitting here alone, among the noize and business of other peoples lives, they seem to act with import and value inherent in all things they do, more important than me or my life or activities performed in vain to no purpose other than lying to myself that all things are well with me and my fake busy  work.  I am bored, frustrated, alone, I write my poetry and prose to distract myself from all the pain and banality of my worthless life.  I go for walks out of anxiety and fear, I hear the voices in my head tell me I am worthless, a useless eater taking up space to no purpose other than my own hedonism and related activites of similar uselessness, I am in pain, unbearable physical and mental pain, I cry out for help and no one cares, they prefer to see me die or become homeless, or perhaps go to jail. I do not want to die, or live on the streets or get raped in prison, there will be no suicide or violence, no jail in my future caused by criminal activity on my part, YOU SEE I HATE LIFE BUT FEAR DEATH AND PUNISHMENT AND SUFFERING MORE THAN I COULD EVER DO TO COMMIT SUICIDE.  I am tired bored ad alone, no friends, no lover, just emptiness.

Tuesday, May 5, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR POET GARY G PELOW, THE QUAKE.

I am trembling in body and mind, the future is uncertain and frightening, a new medicatiion has entered the scene because of the earthquake of body , mind, soul that is happening to me, hopefully the tics and tremors will  slow, perhaps I can be calm and still once again instead of having these monumental shifts in both mood and psychosis, I will continue to look for an answer until it is found to my plight of quaking, in the mean time there are coping skills even in psychosis, I write my poems, I rest and sleep when needed, I go for walks and take hot showers to relieve the stress and strain of psychosis that never goes away completely.  I struggle everyday to control my muscles to keep from trembling, self help goes a long way even in schizophrenia and its reality.  GOD is of no use nor a belief in him, the bible is childish gibberish and cruel fables about a psychotic, mean spirited deity in the fantasy land of heaven, the truth is that now is all there is, I will not waste it on childish promises of an afterlife that no those who believes in it have no evidence for it.  I WILL TAKE MY CHANCES WITH REALITY, IF YOU DO NOT MIND MR. THEIST, there is an answer in your own heart, or mine, for fear and quaking.

Sunday, May 3, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, AUTHOR/POET, FEMINISM.

Feminism, now  a dirty word, a word of social justice warriors in the childish things that offend them, they need a thicker skin, rather than bitch and moan about fake crimes or fake oppression.  Once feminism meant someething real, not so today,  in the past it was about suffrage for thee women of the USA, today it means to lie, to make up stories of fake, percieved injustices thhat do not exist, nonissues like stereotypes of women cartoon characters in video games, not of equal rights or equal pay.  FEMINISM, this rings hollow and empty this word today, it rings wth the shrill, hysterical screams of the social justice warriors and their manufactured anger.  I tend to nausea and vomiting when I hear of it being discussed, these fake arbitrary crimes that do not take place or exist.  The social justice warriors do not truly care for rights of women, like homeless mentally ill women, they only care of money and power and those woman who can help them get it, that surely does not truly defend the rights of truly oppressed women because they have no money to pay for the agenda.  The truly voiceless are ignored by feminists because they do not, or can not, organize for the fake feminist movement of angry cartoon characters.  This must be stopped these lies of the shrill irritating voices of the male and female social justice warriors, join me in the war of words and truth.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, THE CONSERVATIVE.

The conservative, what does he or she want? What role in the USA and the world do they want or seem to need? What are their tools and weapons used to influence you and me? RELIGION, HATE AND FEAR, ARE THERE TOOLS, THEOCRACY IS THEIR AGENDA. From Al queda to JOHN HAGEE MINISTERYS, they claw for power in the name of GODS they can not prove are real.  They have obvious hatreds, racism and sexism and homophobia are the most obvious of their evil tools of power, yet there are more important suttle dangers in our midst.  The conservative wants you as a slave, a slave to fear, anger hate and not learning to mind your own fucking business. Why the fuck would they care who you sleep with? It effects them not, why do they care if my wife gives me a blow job? IT DOES NOT EFFECT THEM IN ANYWAY, YET THEY BELIVE IN THE RIGHT TO INVADE  YOUR PRIVACY THROUGH FAKE GODS AND DEMONS, THESE EVIL RIGHT WING LIARS WHO BETRAY AMERICAN DEMOCRACY, make no mistake there is no practical difference in the religous fanatics agenda in any flavor, John Hagee is our version of theocratic Al queda, attempting to control and smash democracy based on the lie of America being a christian country established by christians, I call them out on this lie,  the founding fathers were deists and unitarians, not christians, i.e. Thomas Jefferson. DO NOT GIVE THE THEOCRATICS MONEY OR POWER, BE THEY MUSLIM, CHRISTIAN, JEW, HINDU PROTESTANT, CATHOLIC ETC..

Wednesday, April 29, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR / POET GARY G PELOW, THE COST.

What is the cost of sanity in the world of mental illness? Is it a dropped white blood cell count leading to infection? Is it a dry mouth or drooling of spit in the over active mouth in spit production? Is it the aspiration pnuemonia and choking that comes from this excess saliva? It is all of these things and more depending on the chemicals used to treat insanity, confusion and psychosis, another cost demanding payment for sanity are trembling hands and unwanted mouth and tongue movements, it is also a price paid in the form of nuerology and muscle problems that cause physical pain. However, despite the assholes of Scientology and other antipsychiatry groups, the price is worth it to feel less paranoid, experience less delusion and hallucinations, as is the similar approach to cancer treatment, when extremely painful radiation and poisons that cause you to vomit are standard cancer treatmennt approaches despite the torture of using them, with hair loss, second degree burns and puking, the goal is to live and stay alive beyond mere existence and fully living, psychiatry should not have a seperate set of expectations of suffering due to treatment that is any different from any medical practice.

Monday, April 27, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, THE ITCH.

The itch is back, the need to scratch and than bleed, this scabies scourge is barbaric with itching and rash, I scratch and scratcch to the point of drawing blood through sores and scabies digging tunnels, this filthy apartment, infested with mites, the scratching hurts and draws blood and I do not know how to stop it, this itch, this scourge, calomine lotion, psoriasis cream used to no avail, I try hard to cope, to reduce the scratching and stop spreading the eggs of mites all over the place, yet the scratching continues and the mites continue to dig through my epidermis, my skin, to lay more eggs, to infest me further.  I am losing my patience, temper and I am filled with anxiety, I struggle through my day with mites and my psychosis, I do not know how it will end, we shall see.

Sunday, April 26, 2015

A poem by author /poet GARY G PELOW, THE SHAKES

I am shaky today, nervous and agitated by this fucking meds meant to calm , instead aggravate, aggravate my symptoms of agitacion, making my anxiety and anger all the more intense, I do not know what to do, I want to scream and yell and hit in my rage and yet jail would be  waiting for me, so I do not lose it, my self control.  Instead I SUFFER SIILENTLY,  I am afraid, nervous and uncertain as what to do to stay busy, to stay occupied in this internal chaos.  Things are spinning out of control, my inner universe is being torn apart inside of me and I am helpless to stop it.  I do not understand this kinetic energy of confusion, why it will not stop and instead spins my mind and soul into confusion and fear.

Thursday, April 23, 2015

A poem by author/poet GARY G PELOW, THE KIND.

What kind does it take to ignore the mentally ill? What kind of human being shuts their eyes to the homeless and destitute?  Is it these people are psychopaths who do not care for their fellow humans? Are they concerned about themselves only because they have no conscience or empathy?  No, I do not believe that is the call to indifferance to the mentally ill man or woman on the streets, or even those who have a place to live, no, the  indifferance is caused by overwhelming fatigue of many different social problems from war to hunger that forces people to become numb to the misery of others. I do not know the answer to this problem, I only point it out here.  Perhaps there is no solution, I suppose we could all surrender reality to mental blockage for the sake of our own sanity and mental health, yet what happens if YOU are the next to be mentally ill, an occurence that is not predictable?

Tuesday, April 21, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, THE COLD SNAP

The cold is here, both of heart and air, these will be difficult times ahead in the frosty weather and the cold human heart.  It is a difficult struggle to reach the warmth of love and  fire in this cold snap, the process is grueling to melt the ice of the defeated human spirit and soul.  I do not know the best approach to this dilemna of hot and cold seasons and people, perhaps we must all find our own path to peace, with out the false peace and lies of a monotheistic god, we are to old for fairy tales and imaginary friends in the great monotheisms of the world.  There is nothing colder than lies and false hope and false promises of eternal life, the life you have is now, the one and only present, the experiences you have now is all the unverse has for you, live well and morally now, there is no later on or second chance, do you really want to waste the times you do have for those that do not exist in the future of death?

Sunday, April 19, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR /POET GARY G PELOW, THE ADVANTAGE.

They have the advantage, these evil people who run welfare shit hotels crawling with vermon, bed bugs, scabes, roaches, rats and mice. They have the advantage on the mentally ill who have no place to go but these centers of hell. The  mentally ill turned out from closed asylums of the state to the street have no choices, and the evil ones know this.  They are legally robbed of cash and resources by the filthy boarder room houses and drug infested hotels, who threaten them with homelessness if the outragous rent is not paid on time, or late only by a few hours, this is especially evil and hideous in the winter, when tempertures drop to killing low levels and the snow 2 or 3 feet deep.  The social services of most states do nothing to punish, warn or correct this evil , disgusting practice, the planners of hospital closings had no plan, no plan but to dump people like human garbage in hotels that expose children to drugs, pedophiles, and violence, can you imagine being a child in such conditions?  I have seen it first hand, families as well as the mentally ill are raped emotionally and financially by these hell holes. Some would prefer to sleep on a fucking sidewalk rather than endure these violent vicious places, the only alternative is jail, this was an unintended consequence of setting us free from state hospitals only to be enslaved in countyb jails.

Thursday, April 16, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, WHY?

Why is there so much pain?
In our bodies and our minds, the pain of mental illness is intransient, it does not budge or move even under pressure of drugs, there seems to be no way out, the pain shakes me to my core, it rattles my sanity, tests my patience.  I do not know how to plan around this, or fight it, this schizoid disease? Maybe you can help, maybe you cant or wont help me fight this war of body, mind and soul.  Why should you care of me you ask, I am but a stranger to you, not very present in your life to justify the risk of helping or assisting me.  I AM ALONE,  that message has been clear to me since second grade and the cruel children of my youth who torture me even still after all this time and distance, they had no right to hurt me body, mind, soul and spirit, yet they did none the less.  PEACE is all I seek, not revenge or retaliation to the ghosts of the past.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

PELOW PUBLISHING, POETRY

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A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, THE STAND

The stand must be taken, they have no right to get away with this, this noise and confusion, the loud music is blasting, and I am pounding on the floor to send a message to those who are below me, physically and mentally beneath me, they are losers, scum of this world, lazy, unemployed, drugged up and drugged down into a stupor of calm, the need it to get through the worthlless, miserable lives that have no meaning or purpose, they drowned their own pain with noise and chemicals, these pathetic people beneath me.  I wish I could tell them to go fuck themselves in their own assholes, these filthy animals of confusion, of fear, of uncertainty, they have no right to do this, I would be in the right and just moral position to complain, to harrass them in retaliation and noise, they would not listen, they would not care these antisocial criminals of confusion, my schizophrenia is tested today, do I have the strength to persist and win? I will go forward, despite the fear, noise, confusion, anger and chaos all around me, yes my schizophrenia is being tested today, everyday, I am enraged at my own weakness as much I am of them.  I rage inside, paranoid and afraid, not knowing how to proceed in my panic, fear and confusion.

Tuesday, April 14, 2015

A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, A NEW BEGINNING.

Well we have done it, and started the new strategy against my psychosis and confusion, we have removed the ineffective tool of Zyprexa, and I am slowly using a new tool to deal with my illness, I am somewhat scared and excited, a new hope against paranoia and suspicion that may or may not control my insanity.  There is a new optimism with this news, yet it is filled with trepidation and worry, what if it does not work? What if I am left hanging spinning in the tornado of psychosis and deadly side effects? There are some dangers in this game of psychiatry, a game of risk with my life at steak, either this will or will not work, there lies also quietly the risk of white blood cell numbers being thrown into chaos and death may result, or the result will be neutral or effective against my paranoia and fears, my head is spinning in confusion, noises outside my door, they not knowing or caring of my chemical plight.  It is true to be fair to others, I have not been sharing my private struggle with anyone, how could they know what I do not reveal?  Maybe the voices and visions will finally end my torment in mental chaos or not.  I am alone in this, or so it feels that I am alone, in this journey of self discovery, just me' the psychotherapist and the shrink are aware of these events, those who need to know do know, the rest is none of their business.

Saturday, April 11, 2015

A poem by author/poet GARY G PELOW, THE ONE

Is she the one, I must know her, I must learn her and her ways.  Who has been her consort before? What were they like? Did they treat her right, as a proud individual woman with the power of her intellect?  If I learn these facts of her loves from the distant past, I think my chances of being her guide in the present form of love.  I seek to be in her, to be consumed by her, I will ask many questions of her friends and family, I need to know who and how she loves.  Time is shorter now, the need of her company in me is energized by my few years I have left, as I pass the half century mark in the twenty first century, born of the twentieth, I seek to love her, to not be a

one as the picture of this movie fades into history.  I yearn for the agape love from her that only a goddess like her can give.  GODDESS is not an exageration, it is truly what she is, this is also  a frightening reality, am I worthy of her?






 Do I try or give up as a foregone conclusion? I can still love, even after Arlene, my common wife of ten years I lost to AIDS and random chance, would she approve of my choice? Can she see me now with a smile on her face as she is pleased I still can love? Of course no one can replace the original, yet I can love somebody else as much but for different reasons, people of love are not interchangeable car parts where exact copies replace the old.  I must learn of her, about her and for her, she deserves the best but may settle for me, a humble man of written words

Friday, April 10, 2015

A poem by author and poet GARY G PELOW, THE TREMBLES.

There is no reason for it, my fear and trembling hands, my fear being up and out of control.  The trembling is pronounced and seen by many, a simple act of observation reveals this this truth, the truth of my hellish anxiety and worry, I seek release from pain and serenity in my heart along with contentment and peace.  There is no going back, back to familiar places long sinced vanished from childhood and the friends that I had are faded memories. Are they happier than me? Are their careers a success?  I  on the other hand am stuck in mental disability and poverty of the soul.  Winds are blowing today, grey and windy' enough to break trees, this makes me more afraid like a puppy that is fearful of  thunder.  I am startled by small and insignificant issues and none problems, non issues.  I am tired, I tremble, I shake, I look over my shoulder, are they following me, trying to hurt me and cause fear, my imagined enemies?  This feels like there is no hope or rest from psychosis and pain of the soul, I would rather have cancer than five decades of mental torment, yet I am still here, does that by itself create hope? We wil see as I MOVE AHEAD WHILE TREMBLING FOM FEAR.

Wednesday, April 8, 2015

A poem by author/poet GARY G PELOW, I do not understand.

Today I saw him again, that hallucination of a person following me, trying to attack me, or was he real?  If so what does he want from me? Why do they appear to me? I am surrounded by enemies where ever I go, I am scared in my psychosis and the things that I see frighten me.  Why do they crowd me, my enemies? I seek to know the truth of reality or lack of it. I do not want to be hurt or harrassed, by these evil phantoms that pursue me. What the fuck is reality any way? Is it just in our brains or is the universe real in its infinity, my hands are shaking, the first symptom of a nervous break down, a break from reality into psychosis and fear, these demons of the dead haunt me, I have no evidence, it is best to keep it close to my vest these schizophrenic delusions and paranoia, hallucinations and suspicion, no one will help or are unable to.  We all act the same parts with different faces, no one will care or listen to me.  How do I relate to others of twilight psychoses, I can not run, they are everywhere and I am lone.

Sunday, April 5, 2015

A poem by author/poet GARY G PELOW, The day she died.

It is approaching rapidly, that Friday the 13th of 2001, the day she died of AIDS, the day I was left alone to fight life  without her presence. I despise Easter, it has been 14 years of loneliness and dreams that she has some how returned to me, out of death and back into life. How I wish I could take comfort in the god fantasy that is not real.  The pain of her being gone is strong enough, almost, to make me believe in an imaginary friend in the sky who now has her, my beloved Arlene, worshiipping at his feet, such a lie is seductive in many ways, how do you lose a person to things like Cancer and AIDS, and tell the living there is no god to greet them and preserved for them eternity?  I can not participate in such an obscenity of lying to avoid pain, how utterly evil and dishonest that is, that false faith.  I seek no such comfort in my loss of Arlene, I need to keep my pain, I would rather wallow in my pain yet remember her love, this is better than the lie.  The pain shows us as humans who can love each other and act better torward eachb other without god or gods.

Wednesday, April 1, 2015

A poem by GARY G PELOW, FALSE ACCUSATION

They said I was guilty of hate, that I spoke words of racial hatred, I did not, I live to see equality and fairness for all, I would not, could not disparage others on illogcal, unscientific nonsense in the name of hate of any kind.  I resent such a lie about my character, this is the worst kind of falsehood, I do not understand such a lie, Why would they seek for me to be in trouble?  I do not see the logic of such dishonesty and attacks on my character, I will move on though to ultimate success and victory over lies and hate for all.  The human race can not travel down this rode and survive, if we continue to hate, humanity will perish over such things, and if we as a world choose ideologiies of hate, maybe we would deserve such an end.  I have hope, that we as a world can do better than this hatred of race, sex, homophobia, color, nation, tribe, culture and disability.  We can do better, even more so WITH OUT CONCEPTS OF GOD OR GODS. The  delusion of religion breeds violence in humanity, yes other ideologies cause violence, yet none like the self rightousness of religion and judging others.

Monday, March 30, 2015

Un poema por poeta GARY G PELOW, LA DIFERENCIA

Que es la diferencia de mi y tu? Es raca? Es la color de mi y ustedes? No creo  esta importante, yo creo nustros diferencias son no importante, que es importante es mi y tu es caracter y nuestro son morales. Ideas de humanos son importtantes si realizar ellos la felicidad de humanos y la gente de mundo es creadoran.  Yo creo en el verdad del gente de mundos es aquel la gente son simpatico y no mal esencial, yo creo aquel en el amore es mas importante  de odios de otras personas de racas diferencias, amores parte de humano y es necesarion por el supervivencia de humanos todos y mi y tu, yo busco la felicidad dde racas del todo el mundo, por tu y mi, el real poetria de vidos es el poetra de amore, tolerancia de racasen todo es mas importante aquel el odio de humanas quien tienen racas diferntes, el color del piel e mi y tu es irrevelante a verdad de vidas y es importancia de esta.

Saturday, March 28, 2015

A POEM BY GARY G PELOW, ANXIETY RIDDEN

I shake in my heart, the fear is strong, violence permeates the world, I do not know what to do, where to  go.  My schizophrenia riddled with fear of attack by imagined and real enemies alike, I seek peace of mind but lose a piece of my mind to panic.   I am at a lost on what to do, will they yell at me today, try to control me as if I were a child?  I am flustered and constipated in action by fear and panic, they think they have a right to intimidate me, to frighten me.  I worry alot these past days, suicide is no option, nor is violence,   I fear the consequenes of both, fear of death and prison and the unknown are inhibitors of crime and suicide, so I just shake with fear in my own loneliness, without others knowing, caring or understanding, this is a cold universe we live in, a world where if you fall down on the ice, no one helps, so I stay down, in dizzied confusion and fear.

Thursday, March 26, 2015

A poem by author/poet GARY G PELOW, UNITED

I seek to be united with humanity, I seek to be friends with all, despite all of the racism and hate all humans of every color are guilty of, there is no use in a civilized society for hate, remember when you were told united we stand divided we fall?. All races must unite against the common enemy of lies,lies told and manufactured by all nations , religions and races.   I SEEK TO CURE YOU AND ME OF THIS DISEASE, this disease of hatred and racist fables believed by so many to be true yet ring hollow with evil when examined more closely, by you and me.  This foolishness must not be allowed to survive, this hatred has a twin brother of lies, the lies of religions of every sort that tells  you to believe in fairy tales of fake gods and has you kill for them, these christians , muslims, jews, etc. must be stopped, they drench the world in violence in the name of their god, a god who if was real is unworthy of worship by you and me, hopefully allies in truth and peace.

Wednesday, March 25, 2015

A poem by author, poet GARY G PELOW, DIFFERENCES

What are thee differences between you and me? Are they real, and if so, are they important or relative to anything that concerns our relationship?  So many differences, of race, of sanity levels, of IQ, I seek your peace as well as my own, I am no good to myself if I do not do good for you.  This is not born of the guilt over the white man's burden, just a recognition we are all human and red inside, red the color of life, it abounds inside of each of us but is ignored by us.  Why do we focus on the irrelevant? Is it from fear? Anger? Confusion? Hate?  May be there is no permanent answer to our problem, I can not see an answer among those who hate me for skin color of white, there is no one superior to others, yet our evil hatred continues on this evil base of racism.  Is there a cure for the mental illnesses and twins of black supremacy and wwhite supremacy' or is it not illness of the mind, maybe it is just growing from the evil and callous human race.

Monday, March 23, 2015

A poem by Gary G Pelow, author, poet'

The dice is rolled, the next baby in line for existence, and life, a crap shoot, a spin of the roulette wheel, which child will be born to misery, to schizophrenia? No way to know, the outcome is not predictable until, at best, puberty.  Is this gamble of having children with or without mental problems physical or environment?  I see this delemna as physical, not of environment , but of bio programming, programming of the peptides, amino acids and DNA.  I wish there was a way,  a way to predict this, so much pain could end and for many life would be healthier, but we do not know, we know virtually nothing of schizophrenia and the like, unable to make more accurate predictions on who will be sentenced to hell on earth of mental problems, oh, some things have improved, choices are greater now, choices of treatments beyond thorazine and the thorazine shuffle , yet this does not reveal the causes of this mental hell, we can treat, but not know why in the first place.

Sunday, March 22, 2015

A poem by author/poet GARY G PELOW, A new ending.

We who are alive seek good beginnings, getting things and events kicked off at a positive note, we seek new friends and learn new study habits in college for the first time, we marry in hope and a positive attitude to keep love alive from begnning to end, we may write a scholarly paper with intense research before hand to make it work and be truthful from the beginning, we raise children, if done correctly, with no abuse or neglect, a bad start for the child in the beginning may cause irreversible mental, spiritual, and physical harm for life, yet I ask, what of new and positive endings, despite bad take offs and launchings of our activities, is it not possible to still end in victory? I think of World War 2, the Soviets, as Hitler's three million man army pours into the USSR, red army troops surrender in huge numbers, many of these died of starvation in german captivity, the future looked bleak to uncle Stalin, he did not even react to Barbarosa, he withdrew into to his own psychotic mind for weeks, yet he gathered himself and marched to a destroyed Berlin, I think bad starts can increase bad endings but does not guarantee bad endings, hope is most useful when logic dictates despair, and warns us to quit, child abuse and neglect need not destroy the victim, indeed many humans have shown resilience in the face of abuse and neglect.

Friday, March 20, 2015

A poem by author, poet Gary G Pelow, The Crying Game

Annoying and shrill, this is why I do not have children, their annoying crying is like a finger nail on a black board, my stupid room mate and his brat are here, they have been for three days, there is no peace at any place that has screaming children, the age does not matter, they are all distracting and bothersome.  How did he do it, my father, stuck  with ten children, ten snotty noses and stomachs to feed , he even did most of the cooking for this brood of brats. I do not understand the desire to create brats and to raise them, to much trouble if you ask me.  The noise in this environment is not limited to noisy rug rats, my fucking down stairs neighbors are disrupting of the peace with their furniture and door slamming, their screaming and yelling, jesus fucking tap dancing christ, why does my landlord allow such chaos, at four hundred and eighty dollars a month, I deserve some peace and quiet, those down stairs have no more rghts than me, yet the landlord does nothing,  I am powerless with no desire to be homeless, a real fear of many psychotics such as myself, I need stability and privacy, I have neither in this shit hole of an apartment and neighborhood, so I will save up, save a security deposit to move from ths vile location of noise, step by step ,I will deliver myself to a more sane place of living, I never give up on anything, I will be victoriuos.

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

A poem by author/poet GARY G PELOW, Brain Wash

How do I begin to understand, the minds of corruption and lies in the cult, the cult of L. Ron Hubbard and those of his ilk? They are wolves feeding on insanity and loneliness of the masses, I try to understand why, why do people give time in years and monies in fortune levels to these evil dictators of false religions and faiths?  There is no immediate answer to this question, how do psychopaths and liars control minds through false religions, or are all religions, regardless of the flavor, false religions? It has been my experience that catholicism, judaism and islam are no more legitimate than cults, if there is no GOD, and they know damn well there is no GOD,  ARE NOT ALL FAITHS FAITHS OF DELIBERATE DECEPTION? Does the pope or imans or clerics have anymore credibility than Hubbard, Jones of Guyana or the japanese cult of serin? Is not all faiths are unproven, no evidence whatsoever to support the various fairy tales? I  implore the reader to think, with logic, rationality and calm. The evidence of no GOD is abounding all around us, you and me, yet there is no proof or logic to the scary man in the sky.

Monday, March 16, 2015

A poem by author / poet Gary G Pelow, Are they watching?

Is there a van out there? FBI survelience? Or am  I just experiencing my psychosis? How do I know which is reality? Schizophrenia, a pain in the proverbial neck, quite a bother, masking reality like that, making life choices more difficult these delusions. How can I find peace in a world of the looking glass? Alice would know all to well this horrible schizophrenia experience, if she was real. Am I real? Are you ? There is no doubt somethings of delusional fantasy seem real enough, but are no more real than Alice's talking rabbit ith watch or the queen of hearts and her psychosis.  I am fighting monsters in me, the monster/beast of confusion and uncertany, JESUS FUCKING TAP DANCING CHRISTS, why should I be burdened with these horrible interior experiences of my broken brain? Is it no wonder  I think GOD is a lie, a fantasy, or at least , if he is real, vindictive , petty and cruel, unworthy of praise or worship that he demands of me? How fucking cruel and arrogant, this petty sky dictator, what is his game, this deity imposter? Well I march on, doing the best I CAN, keeping it legal and me out of jail, I have no desire to reach incarceration, so to the watching FBI, hello, I am not a doer of illegal things or violence, leave me to the misery of my schizophrenia.

Saturday, March 14, 2015

A poem by author Gary G Pelow, Problems

Everyone has problems so they say, yours no more important theirs, this creates anger, this dismissiveness of a persons troubles, mine no more important than yours but not less either.  I do not understand the coldness of some human beings and dismissiive cruelty, I say all problems are important equally, blacks no less than whites, whites no less than blacks, a spirit of cooperation can grow from equal importance, you see, this country must grow in to maturity, beyond selfish interests of all races, a black mans problems are mine, mine are his, together they are a powerful ally for each other. Do you not understand? The USA  can not afford the childish immaturity of hate, we will grow up and beyond this racist mess, I urge you all to listen america, the future of humaanity is the future of all races, working together we can cure the evil of hatred in movements like the ku klux clan and the New Black Panther Party and their evil psychosis of hate, or perhaps more psychopathic than psychotic this hate, mental illness is no excuse for racially threats of violence from blacks or whites. Ironic is it not that Rodney King was right all along, getting along will never mean a system of perfections, but eternal and continueing improvement in love and hate can makes us all more noble creatures, as the Buddhists would say, let us hope for each other, not just ourselves

Friday, March 13, 2015

A poem by Gary G Pelow, poet, author, The coming light.

 The light is coming, coming torwards me, the light of hope, of restored sanity lost years ago in abuse and violence, it was not fair what happened to me, I was just a child, however a new light of healing is coming at me like a welcome long lost friend.  I  see hope, hope in the form of medicine changes for schizophrenia, a new hope in the approaching sun of spring and warm breezes, these things affect me, and you, we have a lot in common, you and me, our emotions rise up and down like waves of sea water, sometimes drastically, sometimes welcomed. I am hoping this will be powerful, this change in chemistry and climate, I grow bored of mental torture, of emptiness, The new season offers hope of this possibilty, reinforced by switching antipsychotic meds, this schizophrenia bores me, robs me of moving and participation in life, hopefully as the snow, wind and cold of Rochester NY, recedes into the backround of awareness, restoring my hope and courage to live,  I am indeed excited, that lone is less boring, less influenced by negative motivation symptoms, we shall see.

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

A poem by author and poet Gary G Pelow, DESPICABLE.

They are despicable, they threatan and insult me, vile, nasty strangers at the store, I did nothing to deserve ther scorn and threats. I push on amiss rage, fear and insomnia, shaking violently with anger and fear, my schizophrenia is pronounced today, more obvious than usual. I  just want peace and friends, I have neither. I DO NOT become violent, or suicidal over these tortures, these strangers I do not know ridicule , threaten and insult me, I rage inside and am lost in fear, anxiety , worry and hate. FUCK THEM, how dare they, trying to coral, hunt, bother and kill me, they will not succeed, these evil, vile hated enemes.  I write for you all, and to maintain my sanity and increase my inner strength, it is still there, buried deep below the hate, anger,rage and anxiety of my schizophrenia, I do not know the future, will I live or die? I hope for another 20 to 30 years of life left, no guarantees though, life is cruel that way, the karma of it all causes me intense torture and pain, may I learn from the dharma, my all sentient beings be free of vile hate, given or recieved.

Monday, March 9, 2015

THE SUN , a poem by author Gary G Pelow.

Almost here is the warmth of the sun, as March brings a time change and the day draws near, spring, meaning comfortable warmth, not the snows of bitterness for awhile, I am moody, nervous, excited, more sun means less antidepressants of artificial origin, instead come the warmth of our beloved sun, whom we quickly take for granted, we have such poor memories in this regard. I will gravitate torwards this welcome light of relief from pain, I will forget the ice that kills for a little while, my schizophrenia will be more tame and less obvious becuse of it, this warmth of March 2015, I write  with trembling hands, not nervous this time, excited. The winter brought ice of death, the ice of falling and broken bones, specifically the rists,  my wrist, broken into three free moving bones, repaired by titanium, permenantly holding it together, as the sun does for my mood, reinforcing the positive, reducing fear, despair and panic, I write my words in a frenzy of joy, about the coming season three weeks away, I am happy for now, content, times are good.

Friday, March 6, 2015

Directions, A POEM BY AUTHOR GARY G PELOW.

Which direction do I go? There is no easy answer, there may not be one at all, and yet  I still have to choose a direction, even if the choice of way is unimportant, because going in no direction is to die, die from boredom and inactivity. You see, no direction means no life, no friends, no career, no house or car, no family ties, if I make a choice to be a plumber, being the plumber is not specificly important, just the action of choice, any job or vocation, brings bizzynes and activity of the mind, heart and soul, making the decision is paramount, the act, not the choice, the alternative is to nothing and watch your life decay into just existing, or not even that, but psychological death. I would rather dig ditches with no purpose, rather than being idle with no purpose. You see me right? That means you have noticed my existence, my relevancy, relevant to you as a friend, coworker and ally, I choose a direction, because, like the rock group Rush sings in TOM SAWYER, by not making a choiice, you still have made a choice, if you do nothing, somebody else will act, and leave you desolate.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

TODAY a poem by author Gary Pelow.

 Today  I trembling, violently shaking, I fainted in the snow yesterday, no help was offered or given as I lie not moving, dizzy unable to rise, I struggled in vain to get up, maybe a seizure, maybe not, I was frightened and still am. I tried to push my body up, off me knees to stand up, I only fell farthey and deeper into a snow bank, I fear this world , horrible nihilsm consumes me, no help was offered, think bout that for a moment , I was alone in  crowded road, people were there, yet apparently I was not, out of their minds, even as I fall in lay in snow, mud, rain slush,  I HATE PEOPLE, I really do,  I help when I can, could you not have  stopped to help, or at least call someone, an ambulance, anything? I GUESS NOT, evil cold people indeed, I DESPISE THEM, or some, I try to be upright and moral, they do not, those scoffers of my plight, I march on, determined as spring arises next month, maybe my cold feelings will melt with the ice, we shall see.

Sunday, March 1, 2015

EL POBRE a poem by Gary Pelow.

Hoy yo se muy nerviosa, tu veas el emociones de un animal en la peligrose , en el situacion de terible temores cerca muerte , Yo soy tembor con temblar de mi cuerpo y manos, my cuerpo en total es muy lisiar, es alli personas en el total mundo to ayuda mi? Yo soy creo en el idea aquel no otro persona conece mi dolores en mi corazon, yo soy solo total, con no amigos ayudar, un familia es frio con, mi en frio emociones son mas terible, mi padres son ambos muerten, aquel es no importante a mi, mi madre tiene mar amor por alcohol quel sus ninos, alli en mi mucho fiebre de intensivo, yo soy es enfermidad en un desero de solo , no otras personas conoce mi problemas, por que yo hablo nunca a mi amigos , mi familia, y mi enemigos, los enemigos tienen muchas mal emociones para mi, no amor de ellos, indiferencia aquel a el mas. Yo creo el ideas son loco y reciben mas mal deseos de otra personas, yo soy no tengo amor de ellos, la gente in mi mundo y mi imaginacion son los ninos de DIABLO , yo tengo muchos ideas por justicia, pero, hay se no ayuda de ellos, yo soy solamente en ese mundo, yo soy terible solo, yo soy no habla con DIOS, el no es real, ese dios, solo mi dolores es cierto real,

Saturday, February 28, 2015

a poem by Gary Pelow, avarice.

What is all the anger about? , so much anger, violence and a lack of love, I try not to show it, a near impossible feat of strength, I will not surrender to the inner turmoil of all humans, I try to calm and soothe my self with self talk, however the bitter taste remains, there is a part of me that has weakened, I can not ignore or hide the fury, people think I am norml and polite, the raging truth is in me and can not be denied, I am not a self aware machine or android, I am a human being in pain and anger, however I push it all to the side and temporaly and function, function is not the main goal in my schizophrenia, the absolute goal is kindness and mercy and love, such an internal and divided self warring with myself, should you care you ask me, what is in it for me, a debt will put me at your use, as a favor repaid, I would be eternally greatful,  I would owe you much in that debt, use it to reach a goal that maybe I can help with, I never really want revenge or retaliation, no violence here,  no suicide by my hand and hopefuly no ones hands of other people, so I sit still for now, I have little or no choice to be patient with all human kind, we will see and live to see victory of the heart.