The Thoughts of Ricky Browne

Walking is the new running.

Exercise is for people who don't have to carry around bags of wheat.

I imagine I sometimes say as little as 400 words a day. But words are the bread and butter. Yeah, but I've gone keto. Every year animals die needlessly to feed my belly; life is harsh. One day you're saving the world, struggling to tie your shoes the next; life, I'd buy that for a dollar.

I romanticise hanging out with people; I like the idea of socialising. I even sometimes enjoy it, if the person's not a complete bore, but most of the time, when it comes time to be with people, the urge, for me, is to isolate.

My phone won't let me write the word fart without it changing it to dart; just let me type rude words with a certain amount of ease, please, Android!

Making food and food prep is always a bigger effort in my mind than in reality. It doesn't take much to whip something up.

If I drank as little water as my wife does every day, I would die. I wonder if it is an asian thing; do asian people need to drink less water?

I'm proud of how well I do despite my schizophrenia diagnosis. Maybe I'm just lucky I don't have a worse version of it; maybe I have schizophrenia light, maybe I have a different version called schizocoloidal A type, level 4.

It's that time of year when I have to get back into the garden, at least for a stretch. I hate bending down. Gardening 101: Bend down! Take away the bending; I'd love that shit.

Becoming less caring and not giving a fuck is the new black; this while the world burns, great combo, guys, great combo!