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.