journal stuff

So when my stomach does its thang, which it has been doing a lot recently but not nearly as bad as a year ago, it is a big blah. I don't specifically know what is going on with it now, as I have been treating for Celiac's with extreme care and it appears much happier but still not right. This could be because it is still damaged from the former gluten I had accidentally put in it and slowly recovering, or that it is not Celiac's, and some mystery digestive problem. I know it sounds strange to hope for Celiac's, but after years of searching for the cause of my tiredness and eventual stomach trauma I am happy to possibly know what it is. I am thrilled at the chance that I have Celiac's disease! because I will now be able to avoid being tired all the damn time and eat things without wanting to vomit! Yes, that's right! Ahh, eating things used to be so much fun - back in the day.
So the blah: the blah feels like a stomach ache that drains all the blood from your head so that you cannot think or feel, hence you become blah. It can last for up to four hours on the worst of the blah, if I ate a chicken biscuit or a doughnut or two that is the response I would receive. Today it is like an hour and a half semi-blah, which isn't bad and I can still function at like 75% capacity. So I am hopeful that this means I am simply healing, and my system is also confused by the lack of nicotine as well - as I am almost completely done with cigarettes. (like a half a smoke a day and shrinking) But the blah kills all joy and renders one powerless!! I had to sneak up on the blah to thwart it, and spend years of planning to begin the overthrow of its corrupt government of my digestive tract. I am still weeding out the evil, it is a long hard fight but this is what change looks like. If I do actually fix myself, I will have a most gratifying feeling, perseverance of 14 years of life lost to pain. Nothing I could imagine would be more satisfying.
So let us hope that I am on the right tract, and soon we will figure me out and I can be energized and powerful again! Ready to fight against all those who thwart our peace as a civilization and other such things as well! To arms, to arms! Bless you stomach and the other obnoxious things in this world which we need to change as a people for us to be happy. Amen

This may be the first time in my life where I am so worn down that nothing matters anymore. Not in a negative or positive way per say, but it is certainly a depressing realization. How is this not negative you ask? Because I am so happy that it doesn't really matter to me anymore. I am so glad to be through with care. The bad cares are what I refer to of course; overly self-conscious, guilt, greed, I am virtually free of any negative desires. I do not care if I live or die, for the lack of pain death would mean seems to equal the disappointment that I would feel for dying with an unfulfilled life. Thus life or death are neither friend nor foe, as they occasional switch roles according to the amount of pain I am in.
"Oh god, how sweet is the breath of life! Nothing could be filled with such wonder, ecstasy, and adventure! Death, you inescapable thief, all you do is take our Eutopia away."
To a day when everything sucks and I can feel nothing because of a personal betrayal and/or recurring sickness in my gut.
"Please let me die, that I may let go of this evanescent tease and attain happiness. The cruel pains of existence serve a sick absurdity that I wish to be no part of."
I grow tired of the role change, life and death are too different of animals to be swapped around regularly. Thus, being through with this care is a relief in very few, but important ways. It certainly clears the mind, and gives rise to freedom of oneself from obligations. It can be destructive to those things that you have worked so hard for though, so I am invoking reason to certain things during this period, so that when care returns I will not be screwed.
Hopefully, I can retain something from this period and grow permanently. For I am so sick and tired of going over and over the same pains for no reason. One can only grow so much at a time, and after even after one of those rare occasions where manages to grow and live perfectly, life still causes pain. Pain is not always purposeful, we like to pair pain and purpose because it gives us a reason to continue, but there is not always a reason to continue, and there is not always a reason for pain.
I am of the belief that the pain we cause ourselves is very important towards spiritual growth, but the excessive pain that this world causes often times renders us zombies. It renders us undead, with no freewill left, only the instincts for emotional and physical survival. It is during this period that there is no growth, and thus pain is counter productive to our spirit, to life. This helps give me purpose on days when I do care, because I am determined to help rid our world of excessive pain.
For the time being, I am completely happy that nothing really matters. I do hope that one day the good things will matter again, when I am not rendered anhedonic by illness and emotional atrophy, but as anyone can see nothing really matters, nothing really matters to me.
Anywhere the wind blows...