The anhedonic hedonistic with no anodyne.

Here we go again.  

Even though I see my blog as a manic barometer it also seems that dreadful depression might lead me to it also.

Lost in my thoughts here singing along with Keith Green ...I wanna die  ♫♪♫♪

and the thought train goes hogwild,

the caboose barely holding.

Listened to that song again (Make my Life a prayer to you ) and tried to watch a long doco on KG but Melody kills me.  

I turn into Holden Caulfield and I have never seen such a deluded phony in my life.

"We" used to worship the man back in our cult days.  

His "words" seemed so right.  

Mind you American Christianity is such a clusterfuck of phonies and a huge market gimmick too besides all the retards around it.

But then again this whole world is deluded and apparently it would be even better in an evolutionary manner to BE misguided and deluded:

reality being such a dreary and hopeless humdrum.

I curse Facebook yet Facebook leads me to depression
and depression leads me here:
what a vicious circle.

Going to a seminar on Depression this Tuesday BTW and to my therapist the next day but Hope and Light are not in sight.

In the meanwhile supported by music even though my choices and tastes and desires seems to slowly sink in the Pond of Despair
or the Slough of Despond
as Bunyan would call it.  

Even in my food tastes where nothing
"turns me on" anymore. 

What is it called again? Anhedonia. 

Quite a curse in fact to be
an anhedonic hedonistic. 

Here is another title to add to my old list from 2009.

Of what authority?My references?My credibility?My credentials?Reprobate Unreliable RogueLeaky Bucket.Questionable Quester.Gesticulating JesterI am the bungled and the botchedI am the bumbling rumble, the rumbling bumble, the botched bungler, the bungled botcher, the Giddy Glaiket, the Pakeha Palooka, the Local Yokel, the Boeotian Philistine, the insane profane, the vulgarian vulgarist, wandering maunderer, maundering wanderer, drivelling rambler, rambling driveller, a wobbling babbler, and a babbling wobbler.A prophet of no profit, a poet of no point, a philosopher of no sophia (wisdom)I wobble and I stagger in the darkness.I am the botched and the bungled the bungled and the botched, the expandable mass:A VERY UNIQUE SOUL AMONG 100 BILLION OF THEM.

The anhedonic hedonistic with no anodyne.

This too shall pass.

As a note I lost my mojo in my video games and my goals have been reshaped and rescheduled. Tasmania is coming soon and it is expected that I will "Rise to the Occasion" as I am known to do

BUT 

Chemotherapy (in a pill form) is coming right after that and that is a new frightful territory.

To my fellow nerds out there you can google vismodegib if you are so inclined,
(Didn't even have to look it up as I have memorised the word already and its strange spelling)

So in the meanwhile Life is Bland.

There was an interesting scenario I was watching earlier.
Narrated by Simon Whistler he mentioned the

Experience Machine.


Some sort of a Matrix Blue Pill or Red Pill false dichotomy.

My first reaction was HELL YEAH. 

Give me a false "REALITY"
any GODDAMN day.  

It's like waking from a blissful dream and so wanting to get back there again no matter what.

Like a good LSD trip for instance when you are riddled with cancer à la Huxley.

Anhedonia in itself is pretty hellish to begin with.

Et voilà for now.

Enough said about nothing to say.

À la prochaine to all of you my non-readers.