My Whole Expanse I Cannot See…

I’m not dead yet, but keep listening for any radio announcements. While we’re waiting, I’m going to up my daily word count to at least 350, and I have at least three tattoos waiting.

Sometimes people who saw me on This American Life write me little notes, hellos and what-not. The latest, however, is extra spectacular…

“I had a dream you died and Ira announced on the show.”

Apparently, he’s going to write a poem about it. So, there’s that to look forward to, that and Ira Glass announcing my death on the radio. I hope he says something nice.

I really especially hate May, it’s particularly depressing to me. That’s all I have right now.

I should also note that Peter, of NeuroSwitch fame, picked up my last tattoo. We actually both got one, his first, my nineteenth.

So, here we are, nineteen tattoos in something around three years. Nineteen thoughts bouncing around in my head, etched into my flesh. I think about my tattoos like I think about my writing, being honest is the most important thing. I have happy tattoos, and melancholy tattoos, each representing different versions of me. I carry around a constant visual record of my dark and my light. Nineteen tattoos that add up to the current me…

Tattoo by Colt, artist and hardcore motherfucker at Doc Dog's Las Vegas Tattoo, Ybor City

My mind is never quiet, sometimes it’s loud enough to make me crazy, especially when I can’t get the noise out. Not being able to talk is one thing, but not being able to write is something totally different. So, I was listening to Elliott Smith’s Tomorrow Tomorrow when one line in particular really hit me, “I got static in my head, the reflected sound of everything…” It so perfectly describes how I feel much of the time, but especially lately.

Tomorrow Tomorrow is a gorgeous song, it illustrates the feeling of drowning in thoughts, thoughts that lead to nowhere. Now, I have part of it written down the side of my chest. This is probably my favorite tattoo, as it says something about me that is constantly true.

Lately, I feel like a cat in swimming pool…

This song is really interesting, to me it’s one of the best things Elliott Smith ever wrote. It’s about institutionalization, being hospitalized for depression. When I was in for depression, I went voluntarily. I signed up on purpose, but once you’re in, you’re in for awhile. You can’t just change your mind and go home. Being honest about my dark thoughts at the beginning only made things worse. They pumped me full of drugs I didn’t need, drugs that made me feel like I was dying. I just needed to talk to someone, but nobody would really listen. It was a terrifying experience, just like the song. It seems to mirror many people’s experiences. I’ve talked to several, and we all agree that the thing we learned from going to the hospital for depression is that we never want to go to the hospital for depression.

Memory Lane is so sad and beautiful, because it’s true to me. Darkness is very lonely, most people don’t understand how it feels. People don’t know how to help, so sometimes they don’t even try. Sometimes the “help” you do get only makes things worse. Honestly, I don’t think one can genuinely understand darkness unless they’ve been there, and back. I know that when I need to talk to someone, it’s always better to talk to someone who’s been lost like me. Whenever I meet someone in a dark place, I’m not one to leave them if they need me. We should look out for each other, because I don’t think shiny happy people really know how.

We made spectacular progress today. Things are running faster and more accurately.

Below is my first decent face-to-face conversation using the NeuroSwitch…

I really wish that guy had a cape. I actually wish YOU had a cape. I have a cape, actually. and drunk tweeting is NEVER bad. have you found a unicorn stable? maybe, but you’re not really ready. the idea involves duct tape, butterscotch, vodka tonic and a tabby cat. are you really ready for something like that? you really can’t know. you know? it involves wearing the cat as a hat. I did say you aren’t really ready. maybe I’M ready. maybe… you’re quite violent, dear. how’s my typing? it’ll get better, really. I’m totally posting this conversation on the blog.

Tomorrow, we’re shooting some video.

So, I’m typing decently, slowly, but decently. Still, my thoughts are muddled, unclear.

I need to find some beautiful place to get lost.

We’ve had a major breakthrough. I’m not scanning as fast as I used to, but we’re getting close.