Maybe I’m gone. Maybe it’s like I don’t exist at all. Wet hairs. Had a bath. Clean but found a new way to hurt. If I could be who you wanted all the time <frowngarden>
hanging onto love with all that I have and am, by tooth and nail…It’s too earlyzzzzz. I don’t want to be up but I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this instead. kitty katjust a gal and her guitar
Guys, this is me playing my own guitar and reciting poetry. I can do both! I’m terrible at both!! But I do promise to bring you some more real guitar playing with my spoken word in the future!!! I need a band so I can focus on performing the vocals for you- which is why I use GarageBand – because it’s terribly hard to play the guitar and to perform at the same time, at least for me! I hear you, you say ‘practice practice practice’ but then stage fright kicks in and let me just say it’s easier if I can just focus on performing! I also took Drama 1 and 2 in High School, have done minor acting roles, I dig improv so much, but I don’t know if I could ever do it like Jim Morrison did it. He had stage fright too. Which is why sometimes he would close his eyes or turn around. “Turn the fucking lights down” (because he didn’t want to see his audience).
I LOVE GUITAR. My depression and health issues keep me from playing (I won’t tell you how old I am, but somewhere like 420 years aged). My bones hurt everywhere. 🙂
If I can keep the support rolling in, I’m ready to move into making spoken word video. Everything I do is time consuming and you don’t see the creation process.
Anyway, I recorded this little piece for my muse last year, I probably haven’t improved much in the guitar area. I do not record from my squeaky chair though and this was live from my squeaky chair and recorded from my crappy cellphone. 🙂
I’ve been songwriting a lot lately though which means I need my hands on my guitar. 🙂
Photo from this morning – check out my new spoken word!
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If you are having thoughts of harming yourself, please contact the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255. You are not alone.
Will you be there to watch your mom die Or will it be by the hand of suicide Years and years of these trials Hard to keep you by my side Took a chance once or twice And might succeed tonight – oh son!
Some call it paradise But it’s a parasite Understand what living’s like It’s like your under knife Want a hand to get it right Don’t leave the world a fright – oh son!
Accept that life is might Don’t have the heart to fight I wear this sadness tight Like a rope in flight Sorry’s nowhere in sight And I’m alone, alright! – oh son!
Y’all, I’m fine. It’s a song I’m writing, and I wish I could get the melody from my head to my guitar and my vocals. I also wish I could write a guitar solo from the tip of my tongue the way David Gilmour can. I can’t. I know maybe 4 chords. I can’t evenwhistle.
I’m sharing my struggles with you. Because there’s a 50% chance I might not make it out alive… dark times.
Depression is when every part of you wants to give up and roll over but you crawl on, in agony, anyway.
Some escape this despair, for other’s it’s terminal. There’s a 50/50 chance for survival. You’ll need rigorous response to recover and live with depression. Currently, I’m trying alternative treatments and therapy. Stuff doesn’t always work. Sometimes I become immune to treatments. Sometimes I disappear for days and no one knows where I am or hears from me. Sometimes they force treatment on me, throw me in rubber rooms, where it takes 6 people to hold me down just to shoot my ass up with Thorazine. Regardless if you go voluntary or not for in-house treatment, they will take all your clothes from you and your phone, you can’t have any of your books, but you’re allowed the Bible, you can’t talk to anybody, you can’t read magazines or listen to music, because there’s this underlying misconception that “stuff” can make you better.
And then no one wants to admit to having mental health issues because you get called “crazy” or other demeaning terms,and often the closest people around you, will use those terms against you when they are angry.
If you are struggling, I’m not going to say it gets better, because honestly, it gets worse. Depression isn’t about how much money you have or fame, it doesn’t care if you are broke or rich, and that’s why rich people die from depression too. But these things can be symptoms of depression. Depression can come about just because it wants to. It doesn’t take a death, or job loss, divorce, or any other event to be depressed. That’s why you shouldn’t ask people, “what do you have to be depressed about?”. Depression is a mental health illness, you’re ILL. You might need meds, therapy, short or long term treatments. It’s not your fault that you are ill. You are not alone. Hang on.
Edit to add: Sometimes depression is environmental so it doesn’t always require therapy or treatment. Sometimes it requires a change in your environment or situation. So don’t always assume a pill can make something better. And don’t push big pharma on others or make demeaning comments like, “you haven’t taken your medication have you”.
Hellos. I’m fine despite dark thoughts swirling like a nebula. Depression.
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People always pushing, always rushing, like they’re racing to die They will try to hide it but you can see it in their eye I don’t know what I’m doing but I know it’s going to make me cry And I know you said you’re sorry but sorry won’t do it this time
Shadows reveal everything. I posted stuffs on my Instagram. I play on an Epiphone. I know a few chords. You can listen on Tuners. I’m busy doing stuffs. Forgive my absence of your blogs (or commenting in general). I’m newly on Patreon as a writer if you’d like to support my creative endeavors. There’s only one me and I run all my social media accounts, but I do work hard to put out good content. Here’s some photos of me without makeups (sorry, self-loathing phase AKA depression).
I’ve gained at least 5 lbs from eating donuts I’m sure… (I weigh in at 125 pounds currently, petite as fuck). No filter. HAIRS 😍I posted this and a few others on Instagram but Insta zooms them. So here it is with my face. I’m sure it was better without. 🙂
G’nite! Time for baths. Probably should have cleaned up first. Dirty gal (more like just tired and achy). 🙂
I posted a song uncut and unfiltered on Tuners Radio, despite my crippling stage fright. I’ve never even been able to do open mic night or karaoke. I’d love your feedback though. Go easy on me. 😇
P.S. my muse Alex Ebert not only gave it like but added it to one of his playlist on Tuners Radio (he’s literally won Oscars for his music but that’s not why I love him)!! 😍
Lyrics:
It was something that they put you through It makes no sense at all If you will let me carry you I promise not to fall
I can take care of you But only if you want I’m strong enough to carry you Though sometimes I may crawl
Hang on, hang on, hang on ohhhhh ohhhhh ohhhhh ohhhh
It’s the devil’s curse It’s everywhere It’s worse It’s there It’s the devil’s curse It’s her She’s everywhere he’s there Anywhere that he’s there And her With the devil’s curse It’s her she’s everywhere I don’t care I don’t care that he’s worse I can feel him stare Anywhere she’s there It’s the devil’s curse And it’s in his verse Written in her verse In blood, the devil’s curse Signed and written in verse We’re damned and it will get worse Tethered to this curse, all of us
A song that formed in my head while I was trying to vacuum (it’s more like a chorus that goes on and on, ethereal, slow, gothy like). Now back to cleaning… (by the way, it feels like spring in Florida in case it’s snowing where you’re at…. neener neener neener- got my window open too- letting light through)
And it’s written in this verse / and it’s getting worse
Nocturnal mistress Tell me about all the things you hate about me again… Absolutely no filter and me as of twenty minutes ago Where most of the magic happens (or crying)
After dark is my favorite time Tell me do they fill the places I’m void in you? Do you think you could ever love me too?
Yes? No? Maybe? Am I only loved in half light? I always dream of you xxoo So goodnight, sweet dreams…
You’re coming to town, I heard in the news
You mention her name, it gives me troubling blues
I’ve been that girl, and I’ve fell in her shoes
I forget why I care or how I still hate you
They don’t think I’ve moved on and it’s probably true
But I don’t want you back, I’m the one who left
And the only one who apparently felt
It makes no difference now how many women you get
I was number one and your best asset
I spend all of my time just trying to forget
I think I’ve lost my appetite
Please administrator my last rites
Say a prayer or improvise
Say it quick before I die
My breath has ceased, my chest is tight
Love feels like a parasite
My friend she broke to suicide
Now in no one I can confide
But in him I see the light
It feels alot like paradise
If I don’t cool down I might ignite!
It’s possible I might die tonight
Please administrator my last rites
I surrender, there’s no will to fight
I say goodbye for him
I climb mountains with a broken limb
Battered down and wounded still I can feel
Do all I can to fully disappear
I’ve got him on my mind all the time still
And he’ll never know I was even here –
Attending to his garden
Watching his heart harden
Wishing I were less of a burden
If only he’d grant me a pardon
Please speak to the warden
But he hates me I am certain