Prologue

3:45 am

I remember this. I want it to be at the beginning of this entry. But I do want to be honest and tell you I only started this at 3:46 am. So yeah.One night I was in Aleister's room. I was with her on the bed watching tv. I think. I do remember not being focused on the tv while talking to her. But I saw a news broadcast speaking of JK Rowling and her journey to JK Rowling. Aleister was tuned in and pointed out the broadcast to me although I was already watching. I didn't watch much of it. I knew JK Rowling from Wikipedia, and The Harry Potter wiki. So, I was still distracted with something else. Aleister spoke about my writing. And I remember nodding to her. I didn't lose hope until I lost myself. So, I had hope. At the time. I remember.I thought nothing of her excitement. She seemed to always get excited when she didn't mean her excitement. Or be emotional when she wasn't. I'll speak on that whenever.

Now.

I went to sleep that night. But was woken out of sleep by her. She was talking about JK Rowling. How she had a vision. About me. That I'd write a book that would be famous around the country. I wasn't surprised or anything. Just hopeful that it would be known around the world instead.

Shit it's 7:38 am

I got distracted. Fuck.

Fuck!

Prologue over.

Tonight, I'm writing. Today I slept til 12:30 pm. I was woken up by my alarm (set to pray). I prayed and thought about a lot today. But mostly, I thought about these demons I have to fight every single day. From the noises to the things I see. And I'm seeing a lot.

Of Demons.

That is.

I went straight to the Coin app on my phone to get to work. That's my source of income other than seldomly gathering 200 littered plastic bottles for $5 (TTD) a pop at the recycling shop. It could be months before I cash in (as with the honeygain app) my coins. But Coin is convenient for me and allows me to, for the most part, stay at home. I have to with having no money at the moment. And the jobs I can do, I can't. Depression, PTDS, and borderline narcolepsy. Would get in the way of that. Ultimately.

However, it's not that I wouldn't try. I just can't when I'm not gonna be hired.

Anywhere.

Trust me.

I've Tried.

I built up a good few coins from the Coin app. I got a lot of ads today. Which on this app. Is a good thing. You actually make crypto for it. Once I was satisfied with my earnings, I went straight to Evony. Downloaded it as a coin maker the other day. Coin has a deal where if you play Evony to Keep 30, you can get approx. 57,000 coins.

I was in.

The game is much more than I thought it would be. The surprise was lovely. Excellent gameplay. Also the first game I'm playing with medieval NPCs. I stayed on that for a while, until I noticed my phone batteries were low. Once charging. Somewhere in between the happenings of the seventh paragraph. Adam, the man I live with, came home with food for me per the phone call we had prior to me bouncing down the stoned stairs outside. I call them steps, but I don't think they are. I wouldn't have fallen about 40 times in the long 8 months I've been living here while walking to and from The Man's house.

Regardless, I got lucky this time. Collected my food without mishap. The Woman, Eve, who usually makes me lunch at the Elder's food shop, gave it to The Man to give to me. I didn't eat much of it. I'm thinking the eating disorder is working on me again. So I put away the food hoping I'd feel hungry later.

From there I continued playing Evony, and spent time strategically thinking about fighting my demons.

The first demon was The Man.

The most important demon however (in regard to taking forever even in emergency) was the Housing Development Cooperation otherwise known as the HDC. Lucky me, I got a call back for assessment of allocations. They interviewed me and found me eligible for emergency housing. Unlucky me though, they haven't called me back. It's only been a few weeks since I last spoke with the annoying Wilson.

However, my application date was 27th June 2022.

So.

12 weeks ago.

I can't fault that the system is flawed. But can I fault that it stays flawed. I learned a few things from them. That-

1. If my domestic violence situation was a life and death situation (why I applied for emergency housing in the first place). I'd be dead.

2. Squatters get to stay in the housing/apartments regardless of legal ownership status.

3. It's occupied by killers. Some of the houses. Some of the apartments. I'd say criminals, but I'm a criminal. I'd say drug dealers, but I am a drug dealer. Although there are bad things mixed up in the practical of both things. I don't necessarily deem both things to be bad. Malicious killing, however. I deem to be bad and wrong. This excludes killing in self-defense. Euthanasia. Suicide. Unless the person committing suicide is someone like Ted Bundy. If so. Then by all means. Be my guest.

I felt like I wanna stop. Writing that is. I feel tired, my back hurts. As someone who is medicated, and still waiting on medication to be available. And as someone who can't get the medication the government is obliged to provide. And as a mental health patient. My ADHD is bouncing all over the place. Otherwise. I can't afford the $450 TTD it usually cost. Just for three weeks' worth of Concerta.

That annoyed me. I already had to switch from Seroquel to Dogmatil because what works is usually what they tell me they don't have by the next 3 weeks or month or so. The Pembroke Street Mental Health and Wellness Center ran out of Seroquel within two weeks' time. Called 7 health centers and 2 hospitals. No one had any of what I needed. No Concerta, no Seroquel.

Oh my God, I feel like writing again.

Woah.

Okay, so yeah, that happened. I gave up on trying St. Ann's Psychiatric Hospital after telling me over the span of three weeks, that not only do they not have Concerta, but also no other ADHD meds. Trinidad and Tobago doesn't allow Adderall in the country, it's not legal here, so I've been told. And so I've researched. That's factual.

Correct.

That annoyed me.

That's the shit I wanna try.

I feel like I wanna stop writing right now.

Again.

This happens.

A lot.

If it seems like I've stopped the blog and or story at the end, without finishing. It's because of that. Just letting you know upfront, so you aren't confused.

Anyway. I stopped contacting the hospital about that. Not that I don't want it anymore. I just don't think I'll get it for another 9 weeks or so. Or another 9 or more months or so.

Say that 5 times fast.

It's 12:50 am (AST) and I'm just now typing this.

It's tomorrow.

I started this around 8 or so last night.

See?

Happens a lot.

While I was gone. I mostly spent the time thinking out loud. That's how I think.

In rambling and pacing.

Both mind and body.

Ever since I was a child. But I think I started doing that after observing him, King Herod. He told me about that too, how he thinks, when stressed. On some nights I'd observe him.

Learn.

He'd be walking up and down. Talking to himself. His small words and the floorboard creaking. I thought it was weird. I thought that's weird.

I think in the same way now. Usually when stressed. Usually, every day. So naturally. I deduced that Herod was stressed on those strange nights as well.

What I also thought about was fighting another demon aka my great lack of probiotic cultures. I'd gone through a liter of anti-biotics. Didn't know that causes a lack of probiotic cultures. Doctor Gerald told me they overloaded me with anti-biotics. That what I really needed was pro-biotics. My body formed yeast without it. And with the anti-biotics killing it. She apologized to me on behalf of Port-of-Spain General Hospital and Oxford Street Health Centre. They'd both sent me home with a lot of antibiotic prescriptions within a 3-week period. Specifically, APO-doxy.

It was the oddest of occurrences, and the effects were so profound that it made me complanate suicide. At first, I just thought it was the regular occurrences. But no. This one was different. I won't go into details of what I was thinking to do. Let's just say. It was so bad I had to tell someone. How I figured it out, was taking one round of APO-doxy. Not needing it for a whole little while (approx. 9 and a half days, or two weeks) I dunno.

Didn't check that.

Didn't think I'd need to.

Anyway.

Recontinuing the meds brought back the suicidiality.

That is a word.

Suicidiality.

I don't care what you say.

Anyway.

I'll get back to this and why you should clean your dildos too.

That is all.