Storm of Emotions

My fuse is short.... If you light it... You better run fast.
Kill them with kindness... Kill them with kindness... Kill them with kind.. Kill them with... Kill them... Kill them!!

SOMEBODY! Grant me the serenity to accept the fact that some people are ignorant, the courage to uphold the law when I’m hostile, and the wisdom to realize that murder is illegal.

If it moves shoot it.
I envision bones snapping, and I enjoy the sound.

Sometimes I forget this site is my therapy, especially when things are moving along in the ‘normal’ direction. I guess it’s like the people who attend AA or NA, you have to keep going or it stops working.

It’s around 2am, and for the 4th day in a row, I can’t sleep, so I need to return to the one thing that was giving me some sort of peace... My writing.

For the past several days I have experienced extreme anger that boils up from somewhere deep inside my lower stomach and crawls it way into my thoughts. Then comes the slap across my face as homicidal and suicidal thoughts destroy my mind. Everyone that pisses me off in the wrong way, has my mind envisioning the most violent thoughts a person can have.

Only those who deserve it.
Hung with care, will the police soon be there?

6 million ways to die.
Push someone ‘accidentally’ in front of traffic?
Maybe a little rat poison in their food?
Hold their head under water...
Slice their throat?
Baseball bat to the back of their head?
Will it end in suicide?

My brain has locked on and seized this one particular thought so tightly that I can’t seem to be able to let it go without doing something ‘stupid’ to unfreeze my brain. These strange thoughts terrify me, and at times I’m afraid that my forbidden thoughts may become so powerful that they break out and I act on these thoughts. It’s wreaking havoc on my mental health.

I dream horrid dreams, and often mutter unmentionable thoughts... so pay no attention to me as I casual stroll by.

Tomorrow I have to get out of town and go ‘stalk’ someone if that is what is needed to bring me out of this state of mind before Christmas arrives.

Let’s Cut Our Wrist and Then Burn Down Something.

I’m really fucking high right now, so if this comes off sounding crazier than usual, (or better than usual...hehe) you’ll understand why, but I had to get high. I haven’t been high for a long time now, mostly because I just can’t afford to buy any. It really hasn’t bothered me much not smoking, until the past week or so. I’ve been feeling jittery, nervous, agitated, or high-strung, as my last probation officer put it, from the moment I get up until the moment I force myself to lay down for a few hours of sleep.

I’ve had this feeling off and on over the years. When I was a teen and it would happen, I would often find myself locked up either in jail or in a nut house somewhere. That was one of the reasons I began smoking weed... To help calm me down and relax me from the agitated state that my mind often goes to for no reason. Fuck both of those places! Being locked up when I’m in this state of mind is usually never any good... I’m probably going to cut myself with the first sharp object I find or get into some altercation with those who have me incarcerated.

I’ve been trying everything short of cutting myself, or fucking with law enforcement, to bring myself out of this unsettling mood, and nothing seems to be working. So, when a friend from Tulsa called and asked me to stop by, I didn’t hesitate. I figure it’s better to be high than to commit a crime, injury myself, or do something else stupid.

I was met at the door with a 6-point beer and a hefty blunt, which I lit before I made it back to his bedroom. We sat on his bed, watching the news and discussing the latest information about Michael Jackson dieing. Half-way through the blunt, I began talking about some of my stress from the past week, and before I knew it, my stress was greatly diminished. Shit that I had been stressing over, suddenly didn’t feel like that big of deal any longer.

I FORGOT all my problems.. hehe.

A couple hours later, in possession of a limited amount of marijuana, (in case the stress returns), I cautiously made my way through Borg territory, and safely through the front door to my nicely chilled home. After relaxing for a little while, I managed to get some laundry done, and the house straightened to acceptable standards. Next, I called my little friend, and of course she told me to come right over.

The effects of the blunt still lightly lingered, so when we smoked a bowl, my high kicked right back in to a nice and relaxed state. If only this shit was legal there would probably be a lot less killing in this world. I mean, think about it... For me... If I’m high, I’m engrossed in other thoughts, I’m not angry or thinking about smashing in someone’s face.


If you don’t light up the darkness, you’ll always being living in the shadows.

Once Again, Hell is my Home

Blame it on the heat, or my fucked up mind, but if I would have had my gun today, right now outside there would be several cars with their lights on. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I can’t stand being around certain people, without feeling the need to hurt them. I’ve gone on so many walks trying to gain a different perspective, which has helped some, anyway no one is dead yet. But now I’m having a lot of pain in my knees again, so long walks to relieve the stress will have to put on hold for a little while. For now, I guess it’s back to sitting on my ass, writing again and gaining back all the weight I’ve lost. FUCK!

I guess I will forever be the bad guy (girl).

Once again, hell is my home.

I am a poet of the body and soul;
Just trying to make my mind whole.

I got lost on the journey to find myself;
Like a forgotten book on a shelf.

The pleasures of heaven I write for temptation;
And the pains of hell are my private communication.

Vulgar and rude are prevalent to my writing;
This is why MsPsycho is so enticing.

A tempting snack specifically designed,
To help the mind leisurely unwind.

Push it hard, and run it deep;
Are wonderful words that help us sleep.

But don’t get to close to me,
Because all you’ll ever feel is misery.

There’s always a creature lurking in the distance,
Trying to end my miserable existence.

Let me feel the heat of your breath on my skin;
So I can feel alive once again.

Swirl your tongue around through my mouth,
Rinse it around and spit it out.

Cease my breathing and close my eyes,
So that I might once again unfurl my wings and learn to fly.



Just don’t let me get me;
For sometimes I just can’t see.

Life is a rollercoaster ride.... So ride that son-of-bitch until you puke!!
Go ahead... Piss me off... Blood looks stunning on white carpet!
Let’s cut our wrist and then burn down something.
Dreams come true, but so do nightmares.

Can't Sleep...Clowns will Eat Me

Depression: Anger without Enthusiasm

Black, Thick Smoke in the Distance

I can feel it creeping in on me once again. It starts in my head and hands, then my jaw begins to tighten, and I bite back all the harsh words that want to come flowing freely from my lips. Tears try to form and I fight back, clenching my fist so hard that my fingernails leave marks in my soft skin.

The rage starts at one end of my body and eventually consumes my entire being with an unnatural but all too familiar stabbing thrust. Exhaustion then starts in my gut and slowly spreads throughout my body, taking over the anger. It leaves me begging for the moment that I can fall into bed for hours of nothingness, and sleep it all away.

Thursday was the first day I noticed the shift. I thought it was just because it was about to be another long boring weekend, but the feeling continues. I figured it was just my hormones when I slept for 10 uninterrupted, dreamless hours. I just started crying as I was beginning to fall asleep. Maybe I am a bad mother and don’t deserve to have my freedom, were the words that repeatedly danced through my head.

There will be only a few more days left before the darkness replaces the anger. The anger is not a bad place to be, because it at least means that I still feel something. I would like to know what others do when the darkness sets in? For me it can be weeks, months before I feel the blood pumping through my body again. Until then, it’s nothing but cold breathing.

I can feel it coming, and it scares me out of my fucking mind.


This disease is sneaky.
Frozen in misery and anger.
Crawling through dark caverns on my knees
Stagnant film covers my mind.

The sirens are singing
and I find myself drifting toward the song.
It’s too late to turn and run back.
Their song soothes me.

I’m at the crossroads
And I don’t know which way to turn.
It’s hard to see where the path
Leads through the damp, dense blanket-like darkness.

I’ll keep looking,
Right after I take a short nap.
I wish I had brought a blanket
It’s cold in here.

History is not destiny,
You just have to change the way the game is played.
It sounds so simple,
But all you have to do is survive.