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It’s Monday morning. My head's overloaded — too much input, too little coherence. Thoughts swirling, memories bleeding, everything turning into soup. Foggy soup. Sci-fi soup. A dual-dimension brain trapped in a loop of weird timelines and electric static.
Nothing’s flowing. I’m not charging. My spoons are gone — drained by invisible leeches. I check the inbox. Nothing. The silence before a storm I can feel but not prove. The time is near, but how do you tell people the endgame’s already humming under their feet?
I stretch. Chair wobbles. Drink spills. New trousers needed. Left side feels like a stroke victim on crack — elegant, I know. Welcome to another day inside this body suit of static and fog.
Yours in warlock groans, Mr. Dark / The Blog Goblin
!!DISCLAIMER !!
This blog shares raw and personal experiences with mental and physical health. Some posts may be triggering. I'm not a professional - just writing my truth. Please don't take this as medical advice.
“The views in this post are based on my personal
experience. I do not intend harm, only honesty.”
“By ink and breath and sacred rage, I write.
By storm and silence, I survive.”
@goblinbloggeruk - sick@mylivinghell.co.uk