Mental Health

I’m not the messiah.. (he’s a…)

I’m not the messiah.. (he’s a…)

     By jfarrell



(thank you, monty python)


I am not the messiah;

I hope you know that….

I too stupid to be anything other than honest.


Instead of wallowing here, in this hole…

I could sweet-talk old ladies outta their savings;

But that would make me feel bad.


A way with words is, apparently, the only real skill I have;

And for someone who doesn’t talk a lot,

I can be very careless with words.


I could easily make a suicide cult :)

But I imagine the pay is disappointing;

And the perks… shagging everything I want


Not really me,

Though,sometimes, I sorely wish it was;

Everyone, die on my command.


I can see how that would appeal.

You read my ramblings

And I feel, YES, I AM, but I don’t want the job.


Why do you read me?

I am nothing, a mote upon the wind of the cosmos;

But so many of you read my stuff


And say nice things;

And, sometimes, scarey things?

Please tell me why, I am nothing.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

and i'm not a very naughty boy, either :) well, that website doesn't count...

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Laugh, and the world laughs with you…

Laugh, and the world laughs with you…

By jfarrell



(“cry, and you’ll cry all alone” - rightful thanks to chas’n dave, great band)





There’s a truth there;

A lesson for us all to learn,

Especially me;

Especially you;

I have the courage, the boldness to speak to you;

Reading poems, you are too much like me;

I know I’m not alone, the only one;

I just feel that way;

And you do too, sometimes.


One of the things I really hate about depression..

It takes everything;

I used to love music, had a wicked (well I thought so)

Sense of humour;

Most of the music I feel compelled to listen to

Is from my teenage years

Old sit-coms and stand ups made me laugh;

Today’s don’t seem to match up.


“laugh, and the world laughs with you (at you, is my perception)

Cry, and you’ll cry all alone”;

Being me is not just a state of mind,

It’s a contempt, a burning hatred, of who I am;

But, yes, laugh! We both must;

Staring ahead and grinning insanely,

Smiling inanely;

Visualise and think nice thoughts

Must be positive!



Author's Notes/Comments: 

ha ha ha, see, i laugh

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The inner maelstrom

The inner maelstrom

By jfarrell


My exterior:

Calm, relaxed; my eyes dart around everywhere,

But only a certain type of person looks for that;

Recognises what it is;

Most people miss it; and the slight tremor;

They just see calm, relaxed.


My interior:

Jumping to giddying heights,

Plummeting to treacherous self-pity;

Burning; freezing;

Wanting to cut your throat,

But wanting hide all feeling, thought of cutting your throat;

Battering your body;

Soaking you in petrol and dropping the match;

Bad jim, can’t feel that

Where’s the knife, the sharp one

Gotta cut, gotta pay, bad thought, gotta pay for that

No, don’t cut you, cut them, they the ones make you hurt

No, no, hide, cut me, I’m here, it’s my fault

I was bad

Hate this fear, this hate, this self pity this never ending


My exterior:

Calm, relaxed;

My smile breaks as I ask

“do you want fries with that, sir?”

I hope I don’t work at your favourite burger bar;

You’ll never know what’s going on behind that smile.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

madness, i say, madness, lock your doors -a storm's a coming



   By jfarrell


Mine are wrong;

I’m pretty sure I was told the same in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy;

And I was advised today

‘change your perceptions’.



Thinking nice thoughts is the answer?

The logic, the arguments about being positive,

I understand them

But when the lift door opens

And a bald-headed, viscous dog wielding thug

Says “one more word outta you and I smacking you in the teeth”

The only thought I got room for

Is “please don’t hit me”



It must be really nice,

Experiencing people as generally being very nice;

I can’t help but feel terror at everyone I meet.

At 49 years old, I’ve never respected anyone,

Don’t know how to;

I know to feel afraid of you, or a little less afraid of you;

Until you hurt me…

I don’t know how to respect, love, trust, value you


I could list all the therapies and pills,

But I won’t;

It’s not just friends;

I have a sister, who I only phone on her birthday

And I still won’t speak a word, or visit, my mum

And I won’t;

That’s my choice!


My perception is that life is sh*t, people hurt;

And be doing myself and the world a favour by hanging myself;

My perceptions are wrong

But I’m damn if I know how to change them


Author's Notes/Comments: 

wot i see is not i see

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Real life people

Real life people

     By jfarrell


My last ‘friend’ I drove away;

There’s only so much “Jim, your always so negative”

I can take;

I wasn’t so negative when I hand over a stack of new films every visit;

Everytime your computer breaks,

I come round and fix it, don’t I?

But always( I getting as bad as him)….

But, often, too often, “Jim, you’re so negative”

Is all you can say.


My lovely, wonderful neighbours,

Forcing me to sit through their church service on a Sunday;

I don’t believe; if I want god, I will go to a church, or similar;

You have no right to make me sit through your service;

And yet I’m the anti-social one;

Coz I play my nine inch nails full blast

To drown your prayers and singing


This may not come as a surprise

But, I have no real life friends

I don’t make friends, never have

I don’t understand people

All their little mind games, petty feuds

Cliques and in-crowds

And their constant yap, yap, yap;

Being alone most of my time,

I don’t talk much

Just the occasional bout of shouting at the radio;

How people can yap about trivialities constantly,

Baffles me; where do they get the energy to waste?


Real life, real people

I try,

But I just don’t understand

And they always hurt, so much.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

my people skills need work

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The worm that turned

The worm that turned

   By jfarrell


(thank you to The Two Ronnies, “The Worm that Turned” was one of the funniest stories ever)


I am a worm

A “man” according to my dangly bits

My dad tried to beat being a man into me

If he was to be my example

It basically meant hitting women and anyone half my height

Other than the occasional fly nuked to goo with fly spray

I don’t hit anyone

Hurt me, I’ll go home, cry and hurt myself more

Yeah, big man, right?


Please turn

Stop hurting yourself when others hurt you

Please, turn,

Hurt them back

Stop being a worm, be a man

Please, soon

This worm must turn


Author's Notes/Comments: 

i wonder if slugs and worms are related?

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Why are my feelings always so dark?

Why are my feelings always so dark?

By jfarrell


Why, when something goes wrong,

Do I always go straight to thoughts and feelings of suicide?

I’m sure many have been where I am;

Done nothing wrong and just lumbered

With £800 worth of rent arrears.

And, though I don’t imagine they smiled,

Said “Thank you, guv’nor, shaft me some more”

I do imagine they got on with it;

Sucked it up, went out and paid it all off.

Instead, I just feel down, dark, full of rage

Full of self pity

This new obstacle before me just saps

What little hope and confidence I had

And all I can do is sit down and cry “I give up”


Why can’t I be like others,

Just suck it up and get on with it;

Find a job, pay off them arrears

Instead I feel I just can’t go on anymore

Why try? They’re only gonna kick me in the teeth again

And tell me to suck it up

I hate this self pity and I hate this anger

Hopefully, one day, a worm will turn


Author's Notes/Comments: 

good morning, Worm, your honour

Is There A Point?

Is There A Point?

  By jfarrell


I’ve tried,

But I just can’t make this goddamn machine work right;

Me, as a person, as a machine, piece of meat;

What am I spose to be?


Me? I’ve been nothing for too long;

Drunk, drowning in my own misery;

“that’s a life choice; you can fix that”;

I’ve been trying.


As much as I want to think “now is all I have, tomorrow is yet to be written.”

When I start tomorrow, yesterday will enslave me;

Before I wake, the dark that stalks my dreams, my waking;

And that’s just the crap in my head.


Why I’m still here, I don’t know;

Probably just cowardice;

Sorry, but, really,

Is there a point to this?


Is there a point? To all of this? To life?


Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'm still asking

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I don’t wanna be me

I don’t wanna be me

   By jfarrell


I don’t wanna be me;

I don’t know how it works;

I press the buttons,

But… that’s not what I meant, how I meant.


All around me,

People get on with life;

They have their personal disasters,

Their worries and anxieties


But, they get on with it;

I want to, too;

I don’t wanna be me no more;

Useless waste of space


And not “drunk” - waste of space, yeah,

But ‘drunk’ has always been an excuse;

But, it’s never been the reason;

I don’t know how it works…


I press the buttons…

I smile, coz it’s what I’m spose to do,

But what comes back is meaningless;



I don’t wanna be me,

But I don’t know how to be someone else;

And I don’t know how to pretend to be better than me;

Coz, I’m me.


I guess we’ve all been there, right?


Author's Notes/Comments: 

can i be you, please? :)