"Lucid Dream" by WEareDroids

Digital artwork amidst a sea of moving boxes. I love how magic happens when you just start falling into the music in your headphones. Then you end up creating an image that sings to you. Maybe you can see the deeper meaning in what I chose to call this one. Created while listening to Warpaint’s “Fool” deluxe album.

I freaking need the love, something fierce!!!

I freaking need the love, something fierce!!!

I got a free app. I wrote a new poem.

No lights. Just music. In my house. No lights. Just music. In my house.

No lights. Just music. In my house.

Drawing mandalas on my iPad listening to Still Corners.

Q

video-drone asked:

:) I'm glad you like my blog. Let me know if you ever want to chat :)

A

Oh let’s! Just after I’m settled though, I’m in the middle of packing for my move next week. Then no internet until the 28th, which seems archaic in this day and age. Until then, how about a mixtape? ——> http://open.spotify.com/user/angobango/playlist/6xmJODJX7DqSmRzmSWtwFN

Q

video-drone asked:

Thank you for the follow back beautiful. Cheers, Dave

A

…and right back at you love!

A Personal Note About Depression and Medications

Let me just admit something here. I was diagnosed back in the States with severe depression and a borderline suicidal, this was after extensive testing. I was on Zoloft from about 2002 to when I stopped about half a year ago. I stopped the Zoloft because after daily bouts of debilitating nausea, a nurse said maybe I should check my medications to see if it was a side effect. Lo and behold, as soon as I stopped taking Zoloft and it was out of my system, I no longer have daily nausea. I was having to sleep and turn down family activities because of how bad the nausea was and not once did any doctor clue me in to the fact that Zoloft could be the culprit. So I will never again take a daily antidepressant. That being said, I often go through whirlwinds of fear and worry, that sometimes spiral out of control and I feel hopeless. Only then do I take a half of a 10mg Stresolid (Diazepam). If it’s horribly bad I will take the whole 10mg pill. But never would I take more than one pill in a 24 hour period or on a frequent basis. Just as needed. But today, I find out that my Swedish doctors will no longer prescribe me this life jacket, because they say people get addicted or abuse it. So because of idiots who do this, a real person who needs this lifeline for their mental health, has to suffer. They suggested I just go talk to their cognitive behavioural specialist. I went ONCE. You know why? Because after spilling out my personal hell of the constant overthinking, worry and fear cycles I get trapped in, she draws on the whiteboard a diagonal line / and says, “sometimes you feel like this”, points to the high end, “and sometimes you feel like this” points to the low end… Meanwhile, I’m thinking, “duh”. Then she literally says, “well, you just have to snap out of it”. That was it, that was the nugget of her knowledge for I don’t know how many years of education it was required to have her job title. But I had never been so insulted by a mental health worker in my life. I thought to myself, “did she really just say that all I had to do was to “snap out of it”, oh well sh@t, I had no idea it was that simple”. So I NEVER went back. It takes a great deal of faith to confide in a doctor about your depression, yet the ones I’ve met in Sweden have been utterly useless. So I can see how people end their lives and it’s so incredibly tragic! Yet, what is even more tragic is that people like us, who have depression, get treated like “oh it’s all in your head” (well, again, DUH!) by doctors and they never take you seriously. I don’t want attention or any of that garbage, I just want there to be real help in place for people who need it. I read so many messages where people offer “someone to talk to” and I do admire that, but I can tell you firsthand that when I’m about to lose it, I don’t and will not talk to anyone, because it makes me feel worse. All I ever need is something to calm me down during that moment of utter distress and for me, that was the Stresolid. Something I only used on rare occasion in one pill, or if I know it’s headed there, only half. But one bottle of 25 pills could last me almost a year. But as of today, they basically could have just said,” No, we no longer care if you ever feel like you’re on the edge, so long and thanks for all the fish”. I basically feel as though they’ve pushed me out of a plane without a parachute and expect me to learn how to build one on the way down. So thanks a lot for nothing to all the useless doctors I’ve encountered and spoke to in regards to depression. Oh and I forgot to mention that back in Denver, the psychiatrist was bidding on a lamp on eBay DURING our session. Then people sit around and wonder, “how could this famous person or that one take their own life”? When you’re left with ONLY the option to talk it out, I’d rather have a mild sedative to get me passed the breaking point and “talk it out” when I feel more in control of my emotions. So please expose this red tape for people like me that honestly just need to know that there is, in fact, a full parachute nearby just in case you feel your plane going down!

1,000 posts! Can I get a slow clap? A low five?

1,000 posts! Can I get a slow clap? A low five?

4gifs:

[unedited]

I just can’t stop looking at it!

A reading of my poem, “Confusion”

"Radio Days Revisited - Mason was a DJ" drawn whilst listening to Be Forest