it’s all gone spitoon & snotrag round here

Nothing like bipolar to pick you up and slam you down like a shot of tequila. The grimace is the same too. I want to lose today, tomorrow, next week. Fuckit. And here I go again on that waiting game lookout post, to see whether this is hyposadgitation or just one of those afternoons. I hate spiking like this. One minute it’s all subdued melancholy and the next it feels as though I just got stabbed in the eyeball with a needle. Fuck. This. Shit. I described myself to a friend this morning as transparent, guts on the outside and no skin. I should’ve sucked down a pill or two far earlier, I thought I’d be okay, but my spine has somehow become contorted into a sharp and nasty zigzag of pain. No pills here for that. Fuck bipolar with whatever goddamn implement looks brutal and is close to hand. In my case, that’d be a fairly large wire model of a surfer, arms outstretched and red beads for eyes, riding a board the shape of the African continent. That’ll do, pig, that’ll do.

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What I should do, on days like this, is switch off every communication device I own and huddle with a book and my dog. I know the fucking signs, why don’t I ever retreat far and fast enough? I can feel the disturbance in the freaking force, but I’m always sure I can just keep my head down and weather it safely. It’s not just a metaphor either, “you’re all hunched,” is what my mother would’ve said. It feels as though my own ribcage is closing in on me, I feel trapped, claustrophobic, yet I’m the only human here. This misbeggotten mood is thrashing me with nine tails of razor wire dipped in broken glass and I feel helpless. Next stage? There are two delightful options; either I’ll land up bawling like an overtired post-tantrum toddler, or my jaw will set and my heart will become granite and my skin will feel like ice. Either way I’ll feel as miserable as sin. I don’t see any tears on the horizon today.

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I stumbled across this the other night and figured it’d come in handy as a punchbag. It’s probably the shittiest poem in the world, on more than one level. Assume the faecal position while I give you (and no need to return it, honestly)…..

Shit List; Or Omnium-gatherum Of Diversity Into Unity (A R Ammons)

You’ll rejoice at how many kinds of shit there are:
gosling shit (which J. Williams said something
was as green as), fish shit (the generality), trout

shit, rainbow trout shit (for the nice), mullet shit,
sand dab shit, casual sloth shit, elephant shit
(awesome as process or payload), wildebeest shit,

horse shit (a favorite), caterpillar shit (so many dark
kinds, neatly pelleted as mint seed), baby rhinoceros
shit, splashy jaybird shit, mockingbird shit

(dive-bombed with the aim of song), robin shit that
oozes white down lawnchairs or down roots under roosts,
chicken shit and chicken mite shit, pelican shit, gannet

shit (wholesome guano), fly shit (periodic), cockatoo
shit, dog shit (past catalog or assimilation),
cricket shit, elk (high plains) shit, and

tiny scribbled little shrew shit, whale shit (what
a sight, deep assumption), mandril shit (blazing
blast off), weasel shit (wiles’ waste), gazelle shit,

magpie shit (total protein), tiger shit (too acid
to contemplate), moral eel and manta ray shit, eerie
shark shit, earthworm shit (a soilure), crab shit,

wolf shit upon the germicidal ice, snake shit, giraffe
shit that accelerates, secretary bird shit, turtle
shit suspension invites, remora shit slightly in

advance of the shark shit, hornet shit (difficult to
assess), camel shit that slaps the ghastly dry
siliceous, frog shit, beetle shit, bat shit (the

marmoreal), contemptible cat shit, penguin shit,
hermit crab shit, prairie hen shit, cougar shit, eagle
shit (high totem stuff), buffalo shit (hardly less

lofty), otter shit, beaver shit (from the animal of
alluvial dreams)—a vast ordure is a broken down
cloaca—macaw shit, alligator shit (that floats the Nile

along), louse shit, macaque, koala, and coati shit,
antelope shit, chuck-will’s-widow shit, alpaca shit
(very high stuff), gooney bird shit, chigger shit, bull

shit (the classic), caribou shit, rasbora, python, and
razorbill shit, scorpion shit, man shit, laswing
fly larva shit, chipmunk shit, other-worldly wallaby

shit, gopher shit (or broke), platypus shit, aardvark
shit, spider shit, kangaroo and peccary shit, guanaco
shit, dolphin shit, aphid shit, baboon shit (that leopards

induce), albatross shit, red-headed woodpecker (nine
inches long) shit, tern shit, hedgehog shit, panda shit,
seahorse shit, and the shit of the wasteful gallinule

Imagine the twat sitting looking learnedly at a bestiary, the word ‘shit’ on his clipboard so it’s a simple CTL+V, thus saving three keystrokes. He sniggers softly and labels his poem a delightfully clever practical joke. How provocative the inclusion of the red-headed woodpecker’s measurements! So outrageous, scandalous, rebellious. He’ll be the belle of the fucking ball. Balls.

Purge over, I’m just plain depressed again, with a couple of traces of whirlwind in my cranium.

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Published by

blahpolar

battlescarred, bright, bewildered, bent, blue & bipolar

43 thoughts on “it’s all gone spitoon & snotrag round here”

  1. fuck it fuck it fuck it fuck it. If you haven’t switched off yet, I’d suggest (because now is not the time to tackle a user-unfriendly website like superbetter) finding something you can smash and smashing it and then laughing like an old-fashioned maniac. That always cheers me up.

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Argh that website and my crappy internet connection put together… I meant to say I see the possibility of a pattern. You give a try to something to make you feel better, so the depression demon picks you up and dumps you, for fun it seems like! So by smashing something I let my anger against it manifest itself and it honestly does help. Haven’t needed it for a while thankfully as plates are expensive.

      Liked by 2 people

          1. I’m going to gird my loins and my lions later on (or you know, tomorrow) and log in and pretend to make fists above my head or whatever other excitement is on offer. Will yell when I do. What happens now that we’re allies? Can we take control of a small country yet?

            Like

            1. I don’t know!!! It’s hard enough for me to distinguish between my board and yours! But we can certainly start thinking of a soundtrack for when we’re ready to invade :D

              Liked by 1 person

  2. Haha. Great poem Ammons! What, no clever word play for chipmunk shit? It’s just bare, unadorned chipmunk shite? I remember half disliking one of his egotasms back in the day, but ugh, when did the Egotistical Sublime of my beloved Wordsworth (I mean that sans irony) become the Thesauristical Sublime? Also: I hear ya Blah! That is why I love klonopin and must take pains to ration and keep my tolerance down. King Kpin is so good (for me) at subduing those simmering afternoon blues into manageable low-grade depressions; which is almost a negative euphoria compared to the anxiety-spiking interstellar psychic wastelands of the dread Mixed. Truly hope you and Dog find a lovely soporific book to curl up with, and are not currently being lashed by nine tails of razor wire dipped in broken glass.

    Liked by 1 person

          1. Or…I collided, and you were kind…Incidentally I WILL get to the Kalahari one day! I do not cherish air travel nor the idea of being another Western fool ogling lions, but I’ve spent so much time dreaming myself backward into the Pleistocene veldt…It…just…must…happen…

            Liked by 1 person

  3. He missed rabbit shit. There’s two types because they double digest their food – so they do soft shit that they eat again, then they do hard round balls of shit that roll into every damn corner of the living room in a blast radius radiating out from their litter tray. They don’t seem to have that problem with the tray at the top of the stairs. Rabbits are weird.
    His poem could’ve used a storyline. 50% of that poem was the same word. You have to admire the Borg-like efficiency.
    I hope you’re feeling less spiky, and I’m with you on the “someone’s stuck a pin in my eye” it’s amazing how fast it goes from naked line dancers (a la Dyane’s post) to getting stuck in a repetitive activity such as ironing with no chance of stopping because it’s not finished. I wanted to spend the day writing while I could, instead, I spent 2 hours procrastinating and maybe writing a few sentences, then 3 hours and 45 minutes ironing *everything* I could find, whether it had recently been in the wash or not, just because I wanted to get rid of the creases in every piece of fabric in the fucking house. What a (flat, smooth and neatly folded) waste of a day that was.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. He probably missed rabbit shit because they’d have needed for than a couple of lines. A whole poem, by the sounds of it. And lol the “poet” is definitely a borg.

      Ironing. No. Just no. I’d take that as a sign that I’d been attacked by Satan. Love the way autocorrect insists on a capital s there.

      Liked by 1 person

          1. Hahahaha my best friend and I used to sit in the computer room in school and rap the Marshall Mathers LP (between Papa Roach and Limp Bizkit), before there was a Youtube to listen to… now she’s doing a pHd in psychology… and I’m a basket case. That worked out well (we hardly speak now as it was another unrequieted thingy only we both fancied each other but several years removed when the other wasn’t in a place to remotely be receptive both times… FFS).
            My tea’s gone cold, I wonder why…

            Liked by 1 person

  4. Do You Like Green Shit & Ham. (By Dr Diane)

    *Diane I am

    That Diane-i-am!
    That Diane-i-am!
    I do not like that Diane-i-am!

    Do you (Blah) like green shit & ham?
    I do not like them, Diane-i-am. I do not like green shit & ham.

    Would you like them here or there?

    I would not like them here or there. I would not like then anywhere.
    I do not like green shit & ham. I do not like them, Diane-i-am.

    Would you like them in a house? Would you like them with a mouse?

    I do not like them in a house. I do not like them with a mouse. I do not like them here or there. I do not like them anywhere. I do not like green shit & ham. I do not like them Diane-i-am,,, ;-*

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I love Dr S. My Mommy read them to me, I to my daughter & also to my gson Jayden. I always read stories with goofy intonations/voices/sounds! I love ‘Are You My Mother’ & ‘GE & H’

        Liked by 1 person

  5. So many shits
    So little time
    Yet I read every shitty line . Blah, how do I get my fucking time back. Notice: that is a not question you can answer.

    Thanks for being supportive even though you’re hunched and shit.

    We’re going to be okay. No shit.

    Liked by 2 people

  6. Hoping the tide has turned for you and that you don’t feel so Nightmare on Elm Street IVIII

    I must admit it feels good to see “fuck bipolar” scattered about here, because that’s always how I feel about it; it’s never a gift – the only good thing that has come out of it is you, Kitt, Yve and the other bloggers I consider friends. And a couple friends I met through the support group I created ’round here. That’s it.

    I’m thinking of you….I put your amazing badge on my blog today!
    (Yep, I’m trying to be cheerful, but I’m failing miserably….)

    Please write us again with an update when you’re up for it, hopefully not down in shit….
    Great blog title by the way – one doesn’t often hear spittoon and snotrag in the same sentence

    I’m a sucker when it comes to witty alliteration, or “witteration”
    My creation.
    I’m the head of my Fucked-Up Nation!
    Watch out A R Ammons – you’ve got competition!

    Xo

    Liked by 2 people

      1. Thank you, I feel better for reading that – you are the voice of reason.

        That could be another tagline for Blahpolar Diaries : “The voice of reason” although a “fuck” or “shit” should be part of the line. In all seriousness, how I adore those two words!! So what about “The Voice of Fucking Reason” or “The Voice of Reason and of Shit” or maybe throw that concept out and write “Preparing for the Alien Ascension since 2014”

        Liked by 1 person

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