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.

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