The Obscure

The Only Man Who Could Ever Reach Me, Was the Son of a Preacher Man.

That is the song that is currently running over and over again in my brain, but I only know the chorus, so it makes it difficult to have in your head, seeing as you only know one small part.
Also...

Yeah, well I'm a mushroom-cloud-layin' motherfucka, muthafucka.

That is the alternate title to this post, a little more vulgar, but a little more to the point of whatever the hell it is I came here to write (I don't know what it is going to be yet). All I know is that I have to get over the hump, and I know that if I write a couple of pages I get over the hump; regardless of what I am writing, or under what conditions I am writing it in. Right now I am writing this post with 5 klonopins running through my blood (which would kill a normal human being, but anyone with any kind of knowledge of the pills I regularly have to take would know that all that would do is make me a bit funny, you could call it "stumbly," that might be more accurate) and also I have clonodine thrown in there, along with a variety of over the counter pills to counter-act the terrible headache I have in a very small way.
I think my mother sent out an application to UMass Boston for me today, with a blog post I wrote a long time ago called "The Ambidextrous Universe," a title which I actually stole from a book. The thing is a piece of shit, but my Mother seems to think that it will get me into college, and I am as sure as hell not going to write any kind of normal structured essay, that's not my thing. So the thing that I would've written to replace it would've been another piece of shit rant just like the previous one, so I figured I'd let her send it off. I know it's not good, but she seems to think it is, so why not? It won't get me into college, not with my transcripts, but I don't care much about college anyway, so that is alright.
I have nothing so interesting to say right now as I did in "The Ambidextrous Universe" (which is a marvelous book, by the way; pick it up, if you like abstract physics). To be perfectly frank, I have nothing to say at all, I am, as I said, just trying to get over the hump. Once I get over it I'll be able to write like I used to, instead of having this weird form of writer's block that I've been having lately. The 5 pages a night I used to write turned from 1 to none, I haven't really written in a couple weeks. I may be out of the swing of things because of the lithium toxicity and all, who knows.
On that note, I wrote previously about how the lithium was changing my headaches in a way I couldn't understand. Welp, all week my headaches have started to stabilize again, and today it came to a head. A bad cluster is coming, there is a bad moon on the rise, I got 7 days till my perc refill, I guess I gotta stick it out until then.
Strange days have found us, my friends. Stranger days than you or I could imagine, they have found us and are coming in for the kill. Will we be prepared? Who am I to say? But they are coming, and we had best be prepared.

I think I actually got over the hump just then, I don't even thinkt hat that was a page even, but the thoughts are flowing out of my mind onto the screen just as they used to, so I suppose some of the thing in my mind that usually work are back to working again.
Earlier today I compared my body to my truck. Eventually they are going to find a part of me that gave out years ago and I just didn't notice it because I've been driving this thing for so long, they'll have to take it out and scrap it, it'll be nothing but a useless hunk of charred metal somehow.
Makes sense to me. Goodnight ladies and gents.