Whoever he is, I made him up in my brain. Lightning bolt moment. “Bannerman. That’s a cool last name. No. Matt Bannerman.” So, story idea? Short play? My porn star alter ego? Obviously it can’t be that intrusive. I’ve been distracted from this post four times now. But the name is still there. Okay, Dorothy.…

I’m in a mood. Gods, when am I not in a mood? Seriously. Maybe it’s the weaning off of the Abilify. That’s supposed to be a mood stabilizer. Great. I need to get my emotions in check. Can’t take this out on others. They did nothing to deserve this. To everyone coming into contact with…

I’m friends with the monster that’s under my bedGet along with the voices inside of my headYou’re tryin’ to save me, stop holdin’ your breathAnd you think I’m crazy, yeah, you think I’m crazy Monster, Eminem I’m definitely not friends with Harold. We’re far from frenemies. Adversaries at best. He’s Khan to my Kirk. (Nerd…

For a hot minute, I contemplated a post with random, funny (to me) thoughts that passed through my brain. “Pudding is not cookies.” You had to be there. In my head. Definitely not funny. I’m trying to distract myself. From thinking. Because then it overwhelms. And I start to spin. I’m so tired of spinning.

I had a post in my head earlier. And I lost it. Poof. Gone. This is what I’m afraid of. But on a larger scale. Couple that with constant dread about my teeth. Despite moments of bliss. I’m a wreck inside. But this shall pass. Right?

Would taking lithium stigmatize me? (Yes, I still haven’t decided. Unlike my bipolar-led hyper-focused need to do things immediately, but because of the lead up time from weaning off of Abilify, this decision’s not gonna be made until the end of the month, I think.) I saw a postcard on PostSecret today. That said the…

Defecting Russian dancers dance into Hockney printsExclusive to Bloomingdales, gift-wrapped in red from the land of blue rinseThey boggle at menus in Olde English verse“Ode to burger” by Keats at his worstThe hissing of omelettes, the breaking of legsDon’t shoot ’till you see the whites of their eggsThe pink fillet mignon looks black on the…

This map shows the concentration of visitors to my blog in the past 365 days.

Does anyone know? I mean, this guy used to be in everything. Remember The West Wing? He was there. And. Uh. He was in a lot of shit. When you needed a non-offensive, milquetoast sort. I never mentioned my brief foray into acting. Or, to be precise, my failed attempt at an acting career. My…

I clean up nicely. Glad I got a haircut in before the Ontario government decides to shut everything down again. Oh c’mon, you know it’s gonna happen.