***MOVING ON***
In all this time of doing blog entries about my distant
past, you’re probably wondering why nothing serious comes up. The easy answer
would be because talking about such horrible things makes my schizophrenia
significantly worse, and that is god’s honest truth. But there’s more to it
than just having a numbed out brain. The more important reason is because
anytime something bad happens to me, all I want to do is move on with my life.
I don’t want to take time to process it or talk it out, because that’s precious
time lost that I could have spent doing creative work.
Time didn’t wait for me back then and it won’t wait for me
now. High school didn’t slow down because I was in the early stages of
schizophrenia. College didn’t wait for me to glue my broken heart back
together. My writing career isn’t going to be put on hold because my brain
doesn’t want to shut the fuck up. I don’t believe in taking mini-vacations just
so I can mentally recover from something that should have been processed within
seconds. Minor bad shit doesn’t feel like much to other people, but to a
schizophrenic and autistic person like me, it feels like a hailstorm of
bullets. I guess that makes me a special little snowflake, but I didn’t have a
choice in the matter nor do I have it now.
Don’t get me wrong, nothing bad happened as of late; I’m
merely speaking in general terms. Moving on with life without delay is
something I cherish even if my mind or other people don’t agree. I don’t
believe in slowing down for anything and that’s where I get my strong work
ethic from. If my fingers are shooting out blood like a water pistol, I write
anyways. If I don’t have hands at all, I’ll still find a way to write. If my
brain wants to show me Clockwork Orange flashbacks of something that happened a
few weeks ago, I’ll find a way to write. If I’m suffering from sleep apnea,
I’ll give myself a quick head massage and slap myself in the face until I’m
wide awake.
This is why I take lazy days so personally, because it’s a
squandered opportunity to do something with my life, despite the fact that I
had no say in the matter. If the lazy day is somebody else’s fault, then that’s
extra hatred for that person, because that person stole precious creative time
from me. That’s why I chose to beat the shit out of my bullies when I was in
high school, to take back what I rightfully own.
But why am I so concerned about losing precious creative
time considering I’m only 32 years old and have my whole life ahead of me?
Because creativity is what gives me the most pleasure in this world. I look at
a chapter of Silent Warrior or a fully published copy of Occupy Wrestling and I
can proudly say to myself, “I made this!” The more time I spend away from my
creative vices, the angrier I become.
For future reference, if something bad happens to me and I
seem irritable, don’t ask me to talk about it and don’t overprotect me. Taking
all of the time needed to process the emotions is time wasted. If I allow
myself to take breaks from creative life to recover from psychological
bullshit, then who’s to say that I won’t take them every single time? One break
piles on top of the other and then it spirals out of control to where it’s been
ages since my last creative project. For me personally, I see this as
complacency and I can’t allow that to happen. If I tell you I want to move on
from something, I want to move on as quickly as possible. If some guy says,
“Idiot” to me under my breath, I don’t want to take more than a few seconds to
process it. That’s the way brains should work. They should be tough and
durable. But mine isn’t. It can be if I rush through processing it.
Thanks for reading this and understanding why I don’t talk
about bad shit. The bad shit I do talk about is so far in the past that it
doesn’t matter anymore. Either that, or I’m talking about it in a purely
satirical and humorous way. My blog post a few weeks ago about The Thunder
Eagles? That’s a funny memory to me, because I’m laughing at what a sore loser
I used to be. Beating the shit out of other players because I lost? Come on,
that’s self-depreciative comic gold! The heavier stuff will never make it onto
my blog, because when people see that, they can’t stop talking to me about it,
which results in overprotection, which results in spending too much time
processing something and not enough time on creative work. I’m Garrison Kelly
and I’ll see you next time!
***LYRICS OF THE DAY***
“Hey, you. Out there in the cold, getting lonely, getting
old, can you feel me? Hey, you. Standing in the aisle with itchy feet and
fading smiles, can you feel me? Hey, you. Don’t help them to bury the light.
Don’t give in without a fight. Hey, you. Out there all alone, sitting naked by
the phone, would you touch me? Hey, you. With your ear against the wall,
waiting for someone to call out, will you touch me? Hey, you. Will you help me
to carry the stone? Open your heart. I’m coming home. But it was only fantasy.
The wall was too high, as you can see. No matter how he tried, he could not
break free. And the worms ate into his brain. Hey, you. Out there on the road,
always doing what you’re told, can you help me? Hey, you. Out there beyond the
wall, breaking bubbles in the hall, can you help me? Hey, you. Don’t tell me
there’s no hope at all. Together we stand, divided we fall.”
-Pink Floyd singing “Hey You”-
