Narsilia

hm yeah, been a while o.o

First of all, my muse is a wreck lately. Have no passion or input to draw or write ._. well, I try but somehow it's not working at the moment. Hopefully it will come back ><

Therapy is going... well. It's going. We didn't make much progress, but she made a sh*tload of money... hurr hurr. Good for her I suppose. I try to cooperate though, it's just kinda... hard at times. Let's stay with that.

Today I went out horse riding alone with Conquestador (he's a former race-trotter), and fell off. Got right back onto the saddle in my shock state but I think that my poor baby was even more shocked than me he refused to trot or canter the whole way up and back to the stables. After that my riding teacher and I had a nice trip looking for her daughter and her friends who went out with the ponies for a little hike. God, we spent an HOUR looking for them across the logging roads, that girl just turned off her phone =_=; we found them, well THEY found us because we picked the wrong way first. They were riding along another path before they took off to the road they originally had in mind. Sooo... two adventures at one day. Splendid, right? Oo

Now I'm sitting here with a swollen leg. Seems like Conquestador hit my shin with his hoof. It's swollen and got a nice shade of black and purple. Tomorrow I wanted to go out with him again but... egh. I'll better wait and see how it looks like tomorrow. Gotta get an icepack >_<

But I try to see the good side of it. Was about time to get thrown off, ye? The last time was 3 years ago, so WAAAAY overdue. Phehehe

Anyways... almost forgot. My psychiatrist/neurologist suggested that I should go to rehab which takes 6 weeks. I'd even like to go but yeah.... finding a replacement for that time period? My boss/sister won't let me. Isn't that awesome?

so... received the official diagnosis about 2 weeks ago. I had the suspicion that it's Borderline, but the result... I don't know how to deal with it.

Borderline is there, for sure. But it's "only" a high tendency aka a co-morbidity.

The main diagnosis is Schizotypal Personality Disorder + moderate Depression and other Co-Morbities. He. A mental illness only 0.5 - 3.0 % worldwide suffer from. And it's not even investigated properly.

I think I can go and shoot myself, once and for all. I feel like fucking crap. The only good thing is that I found a therapist who took me in right a few days after, gotta pay 80€ each session and the health insurance is so "generous" to pay FREAKING 21,60 €. How... glorious. 

Why even bother... it feels so unreal. It must be a dream, right? A nasty dream. Why can't I just wake up...

fuck.

I don't know how to deal with it, seriously. Things can't get worse? Ha, they obviously can....

Air like water, water like stone, birds elope with the sun.

A velvet quietus furtively draped over ears.
Quartz underfoot and crystalline opal years.
Welcome webs of gasping despair.
Nival anaphora textures the air.
Anamnesis waltzes through...
The windows, shit tight, and the fires are fueled... Reminding naivete of its magnitude's inferiority.

Skywards stretching arms become thin and weak.
Bony fingers comb the clouds then curl into fists,
admitting defeat. Blood concedes to gravity's pull,
leaving hollow skeletons all erect,
perforating the skyline an impenetrable cage...
like skin drawn tight, and canvas cracked with age.

Escapist flights and lengthy nights as some succumb and slumber awakes..
Faces count minutes til noon
solar ghosts come kiss the moon goodnight
grey memories for now. A thousand families,
down, will fall. Nival tears bury them all!
Like absconding tides, birds elope with the sun.

A barren desert soaked in bleach.
A sickly pallor and opal touch.
Hallucinating, shattered glass falls as if the atmosphere cracked and we are invaded by emptiness black.
The brain keeps the body company.
The continent is a new born, trying to breathe.
Accepting his fate and falling asleep,
the child is woman, resting in peace.

Accepting the sleep as a blackness forcing its way in and pushing air out through heavy lungs...
And heavy are the clouds that reach so deep and smother the land in a heavy shroud.
Eves press closed and words are now visible.
The sky is an eggshell waiting to hatch.
The ground is the the, the wind, the trees,
the Earth, the water, the first..
Sculptors working the clay, carving angels and gargoyles as pixies dance to appease the leaves.
Faces that once turned to catch light,
frown and turn desperately down towards darkness.
Float to the stiff, grey Earth.

www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPEGzE…


Rock on gold dust woman
Take your silver spoon
And dig your grave

Heartless challenge
Pick your path and I'll pray

Wake up in the morning
See your sunlight lovers go down
Lousy lovers pick their prey
But they'll never cry out loud
Cry out loud.

Oh
Did she make you cry?
Make you break down?
Shatter your illusions of love?
Is it over now?
Do you know how
To pick up the pieces and go home?

Go home

Rock on ancient queen
Follow those who pale
In your shadow

Rulers make bad lovers
You better put your kingdom up for sale

For sale.

Oh
Did she make you cry?
Make you break down?
Shatter your illusions of love?
Is it over now?
Do you know how
To pick up the pieces and go home?

Well did she make you cry?
Make you break down?
Shatter your illusions of love?
Now tell me is it over now?
Do you know how
To pick up the pieces and go home?

Go home.

OhGo home.

Oh.
Hey pale shadow
Of a woman (x4)

Did she make you cry?
Make you break down?
Shatter your illusions of love?
Is it over now?
Do you know how
To pick up the pieces and go home?

Well did she make you cry?
Make you break down?
Shatter your illusions of love?
Now tell me is it over now?
Do you know how
To pick up the pieces and go home?

Go home
Go home