Sunny Day With No Ghosts

It's a beautiful day here at the House of Four Cats, at least weather-wise. My new flat is exactly like my old one, so basically it was like spending a couple of weeks moving into a cleaner version of your own apartment. I don't believe in ghosts or any of that jazz, so my time in this sparsely-furnished flat didn't lead to sleepless nights with me analyzing every sound. I also have the lorazepam to thank for that. Last night I took 6mg of it, along with a few muscle relaxants. Well, it did the trick, but I still woke up panicked at 6am. Eh, that's how most of the world wakes up.

Sometimes, mental illness makes me want to cram a stick in my ear and root out whatever part of my brain is bothering me at any given moment. Instead, I smoke dope and take pills, or bang my head on the wall and cry like a big, fat hairy baby. Not that I have a lot of hair, but if I were a baby I'd be a big, hairy one. With an enormous wang.

Right now, I'm sitting on the floor of my bedroom, with the keyboard in my lap and the monitor on top of the computer. I'm waiting for my new computer table to be delivered later today. My leg is asleep and totally numb...I'm a little afraid of it. Of straigtening it out, I mean. Pretty soon, I'll take a handful of pain pills that will provide vim and vigour, allowing me to hang pictures and curtains and shit. I fell down the stairs a couple of days ago and actually ricocheted off the right side wall and rolled head first over to the left. It was spectacular. But I didn't feel so well after that...like a mountain gorilla had his way with me. So I went in the house, toked-up, and floated out the window.

After all this moving business is done, I can crawl back under my bed and listen to the clock tick away the hours. I plan to emerge from that chrysalis one day several years from now, like Mothra, and lay waste to all you bastards.

More later.