As I listen to The Cave by Mumford & Sons, I am struck with a need to put letters to page. Thus, I am here.
New things have brewed since the decision to end antibiotics presently. The first, is clinical. The second, a long term commitment to the artistic lifestyle. I will begin with the first-
I must maintain health-related composure and kill to a smaller degree. The antimicrobial set I am rostering is three times daily, two dropper fulls of Quintessence as well as two capsules of NEEM (an Indian tree plant) twice daily. I haven't begun as I am quite the medical procrastinator. I shall keep y'all abreast. It sounds quite an exciting development, does it not?
I am terribly toxic and am inflicting a product called Lipo Health as well as Chlorella Pyranadosa upon myself and it seems to be working. In theory. To treat anemia, Iron Citrate and Ferrum Phos. For thyroid issues, a dose of Trophins (Thyro, Pitui, and Drena). I began the former this afternoon and it seems smooth enough. The last of the delicate bores are a series of homeopathics: K BAB, K OXY, and K MAF from an online site that I refuse to share here for the sake of being held accountable.
Now, onto other topics- I have been struggling deeply over the identity of the self. You see, this past Summer was quite a drag in regards to building it, did the opposite really, and I feel extremely demolished like a washed up thing and I rather don't appreciate it. Can you find self love through self definition? Is the act of progressive self definition worth the effort? A running theme that I bear is the 'what's the point' complex. It seeps into everything, rendering it of all meaning and joy. Frustrating, considering emotion to be palpable in terms of your ability to alter it, and disease of the other sort. I feel and fear that I have ultimate control over my emotions, ultimately hurting me in this situation. I can't control the obsessions as much as I can control the means in which the disease manifests. I can't alter the Depression when it hits. Though, I am talking of the mundane. When I purchase a latte from the barista, how much self abasement will I suffer to control the resulting anxiety. There is that word again. 'Everything is all about control', a boy once told me. I laughed internally when he said so, but who is chuckling now?
So, to do something proactive within the wreckage, I have begun a lifelong quest towards becoming artistically endowed. Yes. I have started a program called 'The Artist's Way' to uncover my creative self and try, somehow, to put things right.