Saturday, March 18, 2017


Saturday March 18th, 2017

I find myself worried more and more at my lack of attention, my lack of concentration or mental stamina. 
A million things that would have caught my attention in the past can’t keep me for more than a minute these days,
30 seconds even rather. 

It is a little frightening to see it slowly slipping away. 
It makes me wonder if ever I will read the smallest book ever again. 
And moreover what will I do with the rest of my life?

I still get excited at a million things WANTING to know more but everything leads to an exhausting spiralling and endless labyrinth. 

One example among many now a friend mentions a sci-fi book,
light goes on right away.
I am on it.
Check the author.
Check the book.
Check his other books.
Oh Wow it deals about philosophy.
I love philosophy. Let’s open the next links:
Platonic Realism & Nominalism and then

BAM! I die. 

Just like I did before
but only after 4 or 5 books
now I die after 4 or 5 lines.  

And DYING is the best word I can think of. 
My other metaphor is that the wind stops blowing but now that wind has gone crazy if not crazier.

Not exactly sure what it is and Ritalin at this moment seems like a life saver.

The wind has stop blowing and my ship is in the middle of the ocean.

Some would say pick yourself up blah blah blah but they don’t understand.

This is not how my bipolar mind works at all.
The wind blows or it doesn’t blow (0 or 1)
and I am quite powerless over that wind from my simple POV.

Now I’ve got a feeling the wind will be fine in August despite or maybe because the enormous incoming change of routine. 
The wind has been good in the past in such situations.

That wind just about got me lost again in a short trip to the dunny hyperlinking mentally from a Dangerous Method to Stereotypical to which I will have to put on hold for now in the interest of concision. (Side note there is a reason why some things are called stereotypical and there is a tendency today to just reject them as if they never existed)

So time will tell which direction this Charlie Gordon is going: Dementia, Alzheimer’s or some other form of slow death or just your normal run of the mill dissassociative absent-minded professor genius.

I am certain many people are utterly satisfied with watching mindless sitcoms all day and utter trash TV of the reality show/housewives horrible type.  Yuck! Yuck! Yuck!

My dream persona wants to see itself reading endlessly all of Dostoyevsky, Dickens, Shakespeare, Balzac, and hell Zola and Hugo and Tolstoy too and so much more.
(Ibsen, Gogol, Pouchkine, Chekhov and on and on)
I envy very much Rowan Williams who learnt Russian in order to be able to read the works of Dostoyevsky in the original.

Know everything about history and science and what not.

My real persona is lazy as fuck unfortunately and has the concentration of a fly on shit even though I imagine the fly winning hands down, well little hairy legs down anyway.

And just as Charlie Gordon I feel as desperate and powerless trying to remember the glorious past that may or may not have existed. 

The good old age where I could do algebra with my eyes closed and could not explain it for the life of me because my mind skipped so many steps that others needed.

Or even the time not so long ago where I had an A- in Calculus just before my diagnoses of Diabetes which may or may not have to do with the whole situation as it is fucking hard to think I guess when your blood is as thick as molasses.

Here is another study I could get lost into: the brain decline in diabetics.

Anyway I just hope that wind changes soon as these windless days make me a bit wary of the kind of future I might or will have.

Over and Out for now Charlie Gordon.

P.S. I have this wonderful button on my browser that allows me to close 40 tabs all at once just to start all over again and open 40 more for nothing again. 
It must be somewhere in one of Dante’s Circle of Hell or some Serlingian Twilight Zone nightmare.

K what was I talking about already?  

Maybe I got a permanent MIB Neuralyzer implanted in my brain? 

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