Easy Targets

They pick us off like sitting ducks,

Thinking were the spies for the dark.

But we roar, tear and bark.

Kill me once, kill me twice or even thrice, shred my skin and bare my bone.

But even the the hang man closed his eyes on his own. Then we all wonder if were ever wake again. Roll the dice, tricks up and try and pretend your sane.

You know what to expect, but maybe that easy target wanted to be hit. A brazen shout, to state is that the best you’ve got?

Is it, is this it … Who gets the victory lap?

D May 2018

Spinning

So I stop for a second and grab my hand on the rails of reality to find nothing changed. People still hurt, hurt each other, practiced death on the firing range.

Now I miss the spiralling insanity, where for just moment it all made sense. Instead of this overwhelming international indifference.

They remix this then they remix that and fire it at you as a matter of fact. Though the truth is not on a screen, in a book or some smooth spoken tact.

The truth dies to be buried so we are not blinded by its harshness. The natural order is a cruel mistress, and I see no way past this.

So I grab reality again then spin it as hard as I can, reach orbital velocity so I don’t have to deal with the truth that is man.

D May 2018

Batteries and guns.

Your wires have crossed my bed frame and you wake me up with a shot gun discharge. No way this is treatment, this is psychologically murdering my sanity … or what’s left and is more a reflection of your vanity.

But my friend do you have the strength to pull the trigger yourself. Or will you leave it to your minions and your majic elf?

Then when it happens will you realize that we are just an apparition and we had already taken point; in a much better position?

D April 2018

Paranoid Triggers

Woke up from heavy sleep today. I’m temporary on olazapine to stop getting triggered from everything. I mean it was getting stupid, just the words or the phrase ‘I’m not German’ spoken by a nurse at the hospital would send me into a blind panic meaning I would spend the next 8 hours on my laptop working out if I was German, or the laptop was German, or if my socks were German, etc, etc…. This has happened before during hypermania meltdown. Both Eire and Italia got it. I once threw out a full bottle of Marmite believing it was Italian. Obviously this kind of behaviour can be very offensive to my chosen country of paranoid targeting. But I’m out of it now. So sorry, that was hyper mind not the person I consider myself to really be.

I’ve known people from all those countries and like people the world over there’s good and bad. So to Eireanne you rock, To Eisbrecher you rock (literally) and the man who’s name I forget because I was only 8 years old but taught me how to ride a motorcycle (scooter) in northern Italy you are the most awesome of awesome. And to keep this post positive I’m not going to mention, as my daughter would say ‘the bad’uns’.

Peace D

Trinary Computers

The weird thing about coming out of hypermania is some of the crazy ideas you bring out might actually work. Last time I developed a theoretical Runic computer but upon further investigation it was nothing but a different Turin machine.

This time using the TTL 555 timing chip and some clever soldering I may have the genesis of a Trinary computer. Basically a Base 3 mathematical device. At first it would be totally unhackable because all the code would need to start from scratch and I would probably hard wire the OS. But hell it may just prove useful for let’s say automated cars, anti hack built-in from the ground up. Add a layer obscurations by having a Runic interface. And of course a back door to gain control of units gone rogue. A line of code for it would look like this;

AAB CAB CCA BAC in decimal using X operand 2 2 6 6, and the ABC would be the respective first aett Rune from the 3 families of the Elder Futhark.

I’ll draw it up one night and plot the PCB. This is not Turin because it is not binary so none of Booles rules apply.

You never know I may replace the 555 with an actual mechanical clock making the device somewhat EMP proof.

Peace D

Dancing In The Bunker

The walls shook as the bass kicked in, this was a crazy man in the most crazy place he’d ever been.

The world latched on and Miami took a bow, little did I know of the background fat cow.

Bleeding our youth and naïve nature dry, working 48 hour shifts just to get by.

Paying for the privilege of being a pirate, thinking somehow we were one of the favourites.

Now I see it for what it was, a pressure cooking lab for illiterate slobs.

D April 2018

So It Is?

Sometimes betrayal comes from the most unexpected places and can be a long time coming. So I’m very sorry for aiming at the wrong targets during my meltdown (IE; My immediate family and friends) Am happy at those who stood by me through it all but now my eyes are wide open.

#bipolarsoftenhaveaphotographicmemory

Peace (and honestly I’m trying to keep it that way) D