Why, when we can't even manage our physical world, would we go around inventing a supernatural one? Just to liven up our epic fails? Self-defeating and self-destructing--just one more self- and we'd be a triple threat.
T minus four days till I see my GP and begin the likely long and unfun process of figuring out what--besides a lot--is wrong with me. Still only hearing the one Voice. I was also unbearably High, today, but in a happy-ish way, more so than angry . . . till I just got anxious, irritable and paranoid. Kept thinking everyone around me was talking about me. Not a fun feeling. I don't believe in a god anymore, but it's all too easy to imagine the universe is totally fucking with me. I'd hate to think that what's it's done thus far is borne of total indifference!
Bloodwork, tomorrow, to find out what other nuts I'm deathly allergic to these days, beside almonds.
It'd be best for all concerned if I had a massive stroke in my sleep and was cold by the time my alarm went off in the morning. For the next few days, the world's gonna be too shiny and bright to be dealt with by me someone this brittlely euphoric and itchingly alert. I'll spend all my spare moments weeping and/ or laughing, and unable to stop jittering. Cruushed by the wonder of existence.
I'm crossing my fingers for that stroke.