Lulu Lunacy

Attention concerned friends: yes, I am mentally ill, no, I will not go on a rampage or spree and stab you, shoot you, run you down in a car, push you in front of a subway, begin taking orders from your dog, eat you, drug you, light you or your property on fire (although; *pretty*), strangle you, poison you, kidnap you, sell you, look through your garbage, steal your under things from the clothes line,  throw poop at you, make you eat boogers while you sleep, alert you to the ghosts in your home only I can see, exchange your salt for sugar or vice versa. I WILL *sometimes* be a pissy pants for no reason, cry, say things that don't make sense and/ or aren't in order, take my meds, be a recluse, not want to talk or text or even comment on FB at times, have pity parties for myself, be morbid, laugh inappropriately, not dress well, have weird interests, weird habits, weird urges to touch things, etc. Hear things you don't, see things you don't, smell things you don't,...

You know what? This writing thing, I'll tell you what, it's weird. I haven't figured it out yet. I don't understand it and sometimes it infuriates me. I wrote my first story, along with illustrations, at 7. It's some weird, strange gravitational pulling (urge) feeling to put pen to paper and make words roll out of the end. Make those words sound pleasing together, to ME, not to some formula or rule or structure. I don't understand this irritating, conflicted desire to both *show* others what I've written and hide the hell out of it, denying even it's existence. I've actually shredded hundreds of pages because of that conflict over the years. The small, short collection I have left must mean something deeper to me. Maybe a little bit of vanity and/or legacy, that maybe one day my family will finally read something and realize I was just a little deeper or intelligent than they had thought. Look at me! No! Don't look! WTF is that shit? Luckily,...

THERE IS STILL SOME TIME. Posted on: 11 August 2014 By: Jamie Tworkowski TWLOHA/Facebook page If you feel too much, there's still a place for you here. If you feel too much, don't go. If this world is too painful, stop and rest. It's okay to stop and rest. If you need a break, it's okay to say you need a break. This life - it's not a contest, not a race, not a performance, not a thing that you win. It's okay to slow down. You are here for more than grades, more than a job, more than a promotion, more than keeping up, more than getting by. This life is not about status or opinion or appearance. You don't have to fake it. You do not have to fake it. Other people feel this way too. If your heart is broken, it's okay to say your heart is broken. If you feel stuck, it's okay to say you feel stuck. If you can't let go, it's okay to say you can't let go. You are not alone in these places. Other people feel how you feel. You ...