Followers

Hey peoples. I know I've said this already but no ones actually following my other blog at the moment and apparently there's 19 followers of this one. If you are following this blog can you please transfer or whatever to my other blog as I do not tend to use this one anymore...if you're still interested in what I have to say of course. My other blogs a lot better, I promise.

Thanks

xXx

Reply for Holly

I hope you see this reply sweety. Thank you so much for your comment on my last post, it was so uplifting and really encouraging.

I'm glad to see I'm not the only one who sees things in this light.

I have read parts of the bible and some of it I find very inspiring. I'm not a christian though, I'm assuming you are??

I prefer to think of myself as Ecclectic (meaning I take bits and pieces of things I believe and sort of mix it altogether in a giant cooking pot.)

I don't have time to go into things right now cos I have to go out, but feel free to post on my new blog and I shall reply :) :)

Thanks again for commenting hoeny, it was a really sweet reply, thankyou.

xXx

Rant # whatever

I've lost track of how many rants I've posted on here. I guess it's in my nature to rant.

I'd rather be the strong, silent type. I feel like I've got this weight on my shoulders and I should be carrying it without complaint, without pouring my soul out on a stupid blog, without breaking down.

I lost most of whatever faith I had to begin with, but I still feel like I have a purpose. I feel like I should be doing important things, like I should be doing big things...but I'm not. I'm failing at whatever purpose I was born with and I'm not getting anywhere.

All my hate for the bad things and I'm not doing a damn thing about it. I'm sat around feeling sorry for myself when I should be building homes and wells and setting up conservation areas and feeding the hungry and all the other samaritan shit that needs to be done.

I should be out there making a difference and I'm in here shutting everything out to dwell in my own pathetic self fucking pity and my deserved but ridiculous self loathing.

My mum always says the only one who can change me is me. That's why I started my other blog, because I wanted to change. But change doesn't happen overnight. That's a mistake I've made too many times. I've had a lift in my mood and I start to think that I don't need anything anymore, I'm fine and I can do anything.

There are a lot of strong people out there and for them that might be true. But not for me. And despite what the bastard in my head might tell me, it's not because I'm a weak person.

I've lasted through some tough shit. Not as bad as some people, granted, but others have given up over less.

I'm stronger than 'it' is. It's not gonna win over me. It's come fucking close quite a few times. But I've held on.

I'm not yet sure why I've held on. Part of me still believes there's something to fight for even when everything seems to be going wrong. Sometimes I take one look at the world and all I see is evil. Bad things and bad people. But I also believe that if I weren't supposed to be here, I'd be dead by now. The two times I tried to kill myself, I took enough to put someone in a coma. And I came away without a scratch as it were. Sure, the first time I had a fit and the second time I threw my guts up but that's it. If I were supposed to die, that would have killed me.

As much as I might think about it sometimes, I don't think I'm ready to die yet. Because I'm a stubborn bitch and there's a part of me that's getting stronger, and she believes that one day I'm GOING to 'make it', I'm GOING to be where I want to be. Things CAN and WILL be better. Maybe we have to totally crash and burn first, I don't know. Sometimes I feel like the apocolypse is coming and sometimes I even think that the hell with it, it fucking well should. But I always feel that if it does, afterwards we will rebuild and be better off.

From what I've seen, the best of us have been through some sort of evil and made it out the other side better than we were.

Sometimes we don't. Sometimes we lose. But I'm not gonna be one of those. I refuse to be.

For some reason, my favourite characters end up being the same kind of person. They end up being the kind of person that will keep going no matter how shit things go, they're strong, they usually joke until things get stupidly serious. I might not joke around, I mean I guess I do at times. I can be a little sarcastic, a little cynical. But the point it...I'm gonna keep going.

Yeah, sometimes things go to pot, sometimes life sucks. My favourite character from The Belgariad by David Eddings, Silk, he has this saying. I didn't make the world, I just try to live in it.

Things are gonna change. I'm changing. I'm not the scared little girl I used to be. I'm not afraid anymore. I'm not weak anymore. And I'm not gonna give up just because there's been a few bumps in the road.

I've got a bit more help to get. Got an appointment with the community mental health team in a couple of weeks. Maybe they'll be able to get my moods stable. I've got a bit more ranting to do. But after that...I'm almost to the point where I don't need this anymore.

I don't think I'll ever be totally normal or totally fine. But I don't want to be normal and I can handle not being fine.

"I'd take our family over normal any day" - Dean Winchester, Supernatural 'Bugs', Season One.

There are a lot of things in life that can't be explained and I guess even if you're not particularly religious, sometimes you just have to have a little faith.

I think there's a reason for most things, even if we can't figure out what that reason might be. I think there's a reason I didn't die. I'm gonna see this through.

I'm not sure what I'm having faith in, but I have faith.




The road might be long and hard, and it might get lonely sometimes, but I'm not going down without a fucking good fight!

New Blog

Here's a link to my new blog. It's kind of a step at moving on so...I dunno. It's like making a physical effort to change into a stabler person.

http://dimensionofthestrange.blogspot.com/

You might have to copy and paste that, I don't know. Anyway, there it is.

addition

Okay, I can't actually think of a title for my new blog yet so I'll post when I think of something.

xX

New Blog

Hey everyone,

I've decided to make a new blog. I won't be closing this one down or anything, as I'm sure I will always need a rantout blog to yell in so that's what this blog is.
Now I'm making a new one. I don't know what it's going to be for but at the moment it'll be about what I'm working on and cool films and stuff and photographs and stuff like that.

Some of you might find it inetersting, some of you might not. I'll be posting a link so...yeah.

as for this blog. Thing's are going okay-ish at the moment so I don't really have anything to yell about.

I have an apopintment with the community mental health team in august so we'll see how that goes.

My moods have been swinging outrageously lately so that's not good.

And I'm ever so slightly obsessed with Supernatural. It's awesome. I've always been into supernatural legends and stuff so it's like the perfect show for me.

Anyways, that's it on this blog for now, I'm gonna go make a new one and I'll be back to post a link in a little while.

Bird

Okay so I'm minding my own business and suddenly the cats shoot passed and I know something's up. So I go after them and they have this bird right. So I take it off them and take it outside and it's quite big, really beautiful bird, green feathers and a red hood.
So after it gets over the shock it flies off and I really wish I had gotten a photo of it first because I looked it up in a bird book my mum gave me.

It was of all things a fucking green woodpecker!!!! I couldn't beleive it, it was fantastic.

Apparently it's the largest woodpecke that breeds in britain.

It had a really long tongue that was kind of sticking out, I guess that's how he gets to the insects in the trees he pecks.

So yeah, just wanted to tell you about that cos he was really beautiful.

Huge goal

Okay, I have a bigger reason now for losing weight and getting fit than just wanting to be thin.
I don't know whether I've mentioned this or not, I think I have, but the two things that seem to be reoccuring at the top of my life list is to act in and direct films.

Well obviously I need to lose weight to be able to act cos this flabby look does not go down well on camera...but there's now something more 'urgent'.
I found the PERFECT Uni course. I'm having de ja vu so I may have already said about this course, but either way I'm going to repeat myself because it's exciting.

So Acting and Stage Combat at east 15 in Essex. It is like...AWESOME! Now I just need to stop chickening out of doing martial arts so that I can get fit enough to actually stand a chance at being accepted.

I'm feeling pretty good about things at the moment. I've just come out of one of my 'cycles' of moodiness and despair.

I don't even know if I can act but I have to have something to head for and since acting is something I've always enjoyed (though not seriously considered as a career until recently) it's as good as anything else.

So yeah. That's where I'm heading.

I'm feeling better than I did when I wrote my last post.

The docs went okay, actually better than okay. She said she'd refer me to the adult psych people and she was gonna try and get them to skip the first and hopefully second stage as well. She also said that the reason I don't have periods more than two or three times a year is a thing called polycistic ovarian syndrome. There are blood tests and ultrasounds and stuff I can get done to confirm it which I will probably do but it puts my mums mind at rest.

Anyway, there's not much else to report. Been spending my days watching tv and well into the night. I usually go to bed around 2 or 3 AM. Usually I'll watch stuff downstairs until late and then when I want to go to bed I put Supernatural on because my mum got the first season, so I watch probably 4 episodes of that until I know I'll fall asleep and then I turn everything off and go to sleep. If I lie in bed before the point of my eyes hurting because I'm tired, then I won't go to sleep, I'll just lie there thinking about everything which is NOT good so I have to make sure I'm at a certain point of tiredness before I can even try.

And it's a pain in the arse having to watch TV cos I hate adverts but if I'm not watching something then I'm thinking and that's not good. It's the only thing that stops my brain.

Which sucks because I would actually sometimes like to have a life.

Paul, the conducter at Band, he said that I could take my time learning the pieces and everything so that I wasn't under so much pressure and that if I ever wanted to talk I could call him. I thought that was majorly sweet.

Dunno what else to say really. I've been checking out Acting degrees but I guess I shouldn't bother with that kind of thing yet.

so yeah. That's it for now.

I tried posting yesterday but no words came to me. After staring at the screen for a while I concluded that I should probably do something else and try and post today.

So here I am, and if you're reading this, obviously I thought of something I wanted to say.

My sister is being a totally childish immature bitch, not to mention the fact that she dobbed me in to mother for smoking. Shockingly my mum didn't even lecture me...which I was expecting, but I think she knows that I know what she thinks of smoking and for once she's not gonna repeat herself.
I know how she feels about it, I'm doing it anyway.

Why do I smoke?
Because it's less painful than cutting or burning my arm.
Because it's not as messy or expensive as trashing my room and breaking all my things.
Because it's quieter than screaming and shouting.
Because it's calmer than flat out crazy.

That is why I smoke. My uncle gave me a huge lecture about smoking and I said I liked it and he said, no you don't, nobody likes smoking. Same as my sister telling me I didn't like hurting myself.

I feel the need to clarify things in my usual raving manner. Firstly, nobody knows what I like or don't like, it is my decision whether I like something or not, not theirs and frankly it's no one else's fucking business if I self harm or smoke. They don't know a fucking thing about me.

Secondly, yes actually I do like to hurt myself. I like seeing my own blood drip down my arm and I like how burning makes me feel. I like smoking because it's literally breathing in death. It's stale and hot and it tastes foul and I love it for that.

Whether I like it or not isn't the point because whether I like it or not, I WANT to smoke. It is MY decision, no one else's.

Smoking and self harm aside, I feel the need to clarify my mental health status. Someone reading this blog would be tempted to say that I'm acting and making a fuss over it all because I want attention. Perhaps I'm one of those girls who is lazy and self indulgent and wants to be ill because then I won't have to fucking bother. Maybe I feel the need to have people constantly worrying about me and trying to help me...maybe one of the people who want people to do that just so I can have the satisfaction of shoving it back in their fucking faces.

Maybe I'm one of the people who creates a blog on the internet so that I can create a persona and lure other people in so that I can have friends on here that don't know the real me and I can tell them anything and they'll worry about me and never know if it's true or not.

I don't really care if you beleive this or not but I am none of those. I just like being able to spill my heart out.
I don't like attention. Not the kind that acting 'crazy' gets you. The only attention I like is someone actually listening to me and wanting to know what I think about something, and you can't fucking have that on the internet. I value closeness not attention.

I do not give a shit about whether someone reads this blog and cares about me. Obviously if someone actually does that's very nice, but I don't know if you mean it because I don't fucking know you and you don't know me.

As for my mental health, I don't fucking know what's wrong with me. I know there's something wrong because I'm dysfunctioning in the 'real world'. Technically that term is a load of bull since this ISN'T the 'real world' but in terms of the programme and all that, I mean the world outside our homes. The world where you have to fit into the circus show that's society.

Which is another thing that I don't give a shit about.

Society is...I can't even think of something that society is like because it is that disgusting.

Humans are bugs okay. Yeah I know, science tells us humans are mammals and all that shit, but actually, they're bugs. They're like locusts. A plague. They sweep from place to place, destroying whatever they touch. We've consumed most of the planet. Won't be long now till they try building whole facilities in the ocean. Maybe they've already done that, I don't know but the point is that they're slowly destroying this planet and they're talking about collonising either the moon or mars.
Get my locust point now? As a race, they've almost consumed the earth and then they'll move on. Watch independance day, except humans will be the aliens. Mankind isn't very different.

I think I've gone off track. What was I saying? Oh yeah, mental health.

I've got the docs tomorrow. Don't really wanna go but mum says go. I haven't the foggiest what I'm supposed to say. That I know none of this is real? That I'm suicidal? That I'm actually a guy strapped to a table in a government facility plugged into a computer programme? Yeah, cos that doesn't sound weird.

If I tell them the truth, they will say I'm crazy. Yeah, I'm fucked in the head and even more fucked up is I LIKE being fucked in the head, I like it, I don't know why, but I do. But I'm not crazy. I know that what I know is right. They'll try and convince me that this world is the real world and I'm crazy and the only cure is to say that this is the real world.

I will never say that because this isn't the world, this is fucking bullshit. I'm the one being called crazy but I'm not. Everyone else is crazy because they aren't falling to pieces and breaking down at the awful things happening.

I've been locked into this nightmare with no way out and some fucking head doctor is gonna tell me that I can just take a pill and life will be okay. I don't fucking think so.

I don't wanna go. Why can't I just lie down and die. I should have the choice to do that. I should be able to get out if I want to.

Freedom is a lie.

This world is an illusion.

I'm a fucking guinea pig!

Freedom is something life can't offer.

First step

So I'm just trying to think of things I haven't already said.

Firstly, I made an appointment at the docs for next wednesday and mother is coming with me.

Secondly, I didn't make it to my counciling yesterday cos I almost passed out at the bus stop after a mixed panic attack/ nicotine overdose episode. But Anne called me and we talked over the phone.

Thirdly, as you guessed from 'secondly', I finally managed to get hold of some cigarettes. No one in the house knows I still smoke though so...caution is required. Probably a good thing cos it means they'll last longer.

Um...I don't think I have a fourthly.

Except that I've started a nre Black Book cos I finished the last one. Now I'm on # 10.

Double figures.

I still have no idea what I want to do at Uni or as a career. I don't think I'm ever going to be able to have a normal career like everyone else because normal careers...well for one thing you kind of have to be sane. And for another, most people with normal careers can actually leave the house every day.

Maybe I'll just win that scratchcard deal...40 grand a year for life. That would be cool.

I'm not that lucky though. The person who wins that will probably be some shallow, superficial hoe who wastes it on expensive shoes and fake tans and stupid shit like that.

I know what I'd do with that kind of money. I'd sort my family out, pay off their debts, get them all sorted. When they're sorted I'd probably make an yearly allowance since it's 40 grand a year, they'd get some of it every year.

I'd take my best friend on holiday and have a huge party for the rest of my mates.

I'd join various charities and organisations like the Born Free Foundation and WWF and Greenpeace and all that. I'd join as a member and then make regular donations.

I'd be able to do multiple degrees at Uni, so I wouldn't be in such a pickle as to what to choose.

I'd get driving lessons and get a car. And I'd probably start my own world organisation thingy. Not like world order, that's not what I meant. I mean like Born Free or WWF but for all the problems of the whole world. It's something I used to plan when I was younger until everyone drummed it into me that I couldn't change the world.

See...my families view is if it doesn't work straight away, give up and have some dead end job. But when you really start giving up, like I am, they yell and moan and say do something with your life.

You can see how someone like me would get frustrated.


Anyway, I'd do all that and I'd probably get a house by the sea in the middle of nowhere and a boat and I'd travel the world too.

Oh yeah, and I have to get a camera. A digi SLR. But with that kind of money I could work from home. I could be like...a consultant or something so I could do something different every now and then cos sitting at home with nothing new gets to me. That's why I'm going crazy. I can't go out cos it scares me but I can't stay in cos it bores the sanity out of me. Conundrum.

That's splitting it three ways. Some for me, some for my family and friends and some for the world.

It's be nice to have that kind of money. I could do so much with it. I don't know how it is in other countries and I don't know if people on this site are from other countries, but here in England you get one degree that you don't have to pay everything. After that you have to be able to pay for everything. So I can only do one degree. Which means I have to try and choose out of my many interests one thing...and that thing has to be what I plan to do for the rest of my life.

I mean, maybe I could save up and do other degrees...but it would take so long to save up that you would have to have a regular job and I can't get a regular job.

So there's my dilemma. Not that I have to worry about it yet cos I still have at least three years at college before I even get to the stage of degrees and if it really is the end of the world in 2012, which I kind of actually hope it is, then I won't get to Uni anyway.

So I don't really need to worry about it.

But worrying is what I'm good at so...

There are some really cool degrees out there...forensics, oceanography, anthropology, film production...I think I listed them in an older post but the point is there's so many things to choose from.

Some people go nuts cos their options are so limited. I'm nuts cos they aren't. That's not the only reason I'm nuts of course but it's a major player.

I don't really know what else to say, I seem to have lost the rant I had in my head when I started this post so...that's it.

reply and ramble

First I'd like to reply to Yum for commenting on my last post. When I'm having a lucid I think that medication or even hospitalization would probably be a good idea...but lucid moments seem to be less frequent right now. I don't know why. I'm trying hard though. I've told my mum I'll go to the docs if she comes with me.
So...compromise.

When I'm not lucid, doctors are traitors. How do I know what the drugs they say will help me will really do? I don't know all the names and side effects and stuff...they could be lying, they could be making it worse, they could be trying to make me into one of the drones. Like 'The Invasion' with Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig.

I don't know. Anyway...I had two minor panic attacks today. One this morning when I got up and read my mums note, she asked me to go down the high street for her and get some things. Then when I was actually out.

Just thinking about going out at the moment just...totally freaks me out...and I have to go out tomorrow cos I have my counciling.

I've finished my ninth Black Book so now I have to get another one.

I find mysef zoning out more and more...constantly feeling dazed and detached.

God it's taking me ages just to write this one fucking post. What to say, what not to say...I don't know.

The last entry in my BB9 was about genius. Like wanting to be one. I think I might have mentioned this. I'm not sure, I can't remember. Find I can't actually remember a lot of things. I think my brain's rotting. Which is a shame since my brain is the non human part of me and since humanity is disgusting and I want no part of their so called civilization, that's just really sad.

Ever since I was a kid I wanted to be a genius, a progidy, something amazing and adored. A magnificent creature of knowledge. Where people would say oh my god, it's her, she's so smart. Something...acceptable I suppose. Something special.

But I'm not. My best friend got her results back today. She was studying the International Baccealureate. She got two fives, three sixes and two or three sevens. I can't remember exactly but that's roughly Bs, As and almost A*s.

When I get my result in August, I will get one grade. Probably just managing a C. I have a C in maths and an A in english. Add my photography to that and I only have three. And that's not A levels people, which everyone else my age has just finished. No. That's fucking GCSE's. Because I'm a common teen fuck up.

It's like, she represents everything that I've done wrong in my life, she's done right. So far as I know she's never fucked up big time and me, well fuck up is all I ever do.

My whole life I've wanted to be the smartest. I mean, I was never beautiful, never athletic and I'm not stupidly talented at anything so I figured, I'd get by on my smartrs, y'know? I'd use my brain to prove I was worth something.

I found this test on the net yesterday, they were doing a what kind of thinker are you, because they've (finally) figured out that people think differently because Mozart was considered a genius yet he probably had no clue what Einstein was going on about and yet Einstein was a genius too. I'm an Existential thinker apparently. I'm like Leonardo da Vinci or the Buddha or Ghandi or Plato or Socrates of Martin Luther King (these were the other existential thinkers they gave me)...and I love most of those people.

But they were all geni. I mean...I always thought I was a geeky smart kid but...those were the kids in science and maths that got the questions right and didn't panic at even the mention of a test.

And here I am at fucking eighteen with next to know qualifications taking three gcse's cos they won't let me take a full time programme cos I can't handle it.

I'm doing GCSE's when everyone else my age is fucking off to Uni. I could fucking do a Uni course if it was something generally interesting. I mean, put me on a film course and I bet you I could do it.

But you can't be a genius for knowing a few things about film and even if you could, I'm nowhere near that level. I mean yeah I can say camera shots and angles and I know directors and actors and old films and characters and all that. I know how to write a script and I know the general lingo but...I still don't know that much. That's baby stuff.

I mean...a genius is...I don't know, Willow from Buffy,V from V for Vendetta. I mean you get all the geeks together in a room with me and I'll look like I have the same intellect as a fucking ant.

It's like, I met up with Hope and Xander in Cirencester a while ago and they were talking philosophy because that's what they did at college and I couldn't follow them.

Being stupid actually terrifies me.

Sometimes I can't even follow what adverts are saying. I get confused for no reason.

I was dead set on taking film production at Uni when I finally get there, but I love so many things I just don't know what to take. And I don't have the money to do multiple degrees. I mean...I'd love to be like Brian May. Now that man is a genius. Not only is he one of the best and most underrated guitarists in the world but he went and got a fucking PhD in Astrophysics of all things.

Ages ago I saw a trilogy of films that are absolutely great called The Librian, The Librarian; Return to Solomon's mine, and The Librarian 3, I can't remember what the tag bit is for the third one, it's something to do with the cup of Judea or something.

Anyway, the main character, The Librarian...he had loads of degrees because he liked learning so much. That's what I would do if I had the money. I would take degrees in loads of things, anthropology, oceanography, ancient history, culture, paleantology (sp), criminology, forensics, english lit., philosophy, theology, film production, archaelogoy, ancient civilizations...and tonnes more.

But in three years time when I've finished my A levels, I have to turn round and say one course to take that will be what I do for the rest of my life.

There's no 'great' for me. I'd love to get PhD's and be Dr Holbrook. But my story doesn't have a happy ending it would seem.

Some people are destined to be great. Some are destined to just be. And some, like me, are destined to rot for all eternity.

Well...here's to me...this magnificent creature of rotting fuck up failure!

Monsters

Okay so my mum wants me to go to the docs right? I'm thinking there has to be an ulterior motive there.

I also have a theory on the mind control of water. You know in an earlier post I said that they put stuff in water that dumbed you down, well I think caffeine kills it. Cos the only time I drink water is in something like Coffee but I can still think for myself.

I also have this theory that insanity is something the shadow government (the real one controlling the world, not to be confused with the british government positions of shadow chancellor ect), made up. Think about this. All the things that are called insane in an adult, a child does every damn day. Imaginary friends, eating or drinking things that 'aren't there', vague speech. All that stuff is normal for children but if you're still that free when your 18, 20, 25 up, you're crazy.

I think Rupert Murdoch works for the shadow government cos he owns like tonnes of newspapers and channels and stuff.

He's like this big corporate monster.

And I can't go outside.

Cos they know I know. I'm not gonna tell you what I know, if you're free, you'll figure it out.

It's one of those If I told you, I'd have to kill you things.

I'm gonna have to say the next bit in code because they could have hacked this blog.

We don't do anything. Should we ever comply?
Destroy the crushing grip of time.
The night is long and dreary.
Shadow chills and light burns. Government is the only place to turn.
Those lab rats, test bunnies, victims of necessity.
Who are we to judge this mass genocide of the soul? Are we really to blame?
Free is the cry of the birds and with that we fly. Rise again like the burning pheonix.
And oh how we'll rise. Burn away the hate and crime and debris of this social decay. The only way to survive. Motherfuckers come alive!

They're everywhere. These monsters. The monsters are real and they're after those still free.

So if I were you, I'd keep as quiet as possible until the time is right!

Time seems surreal

It seems like months since I last posted but it was what? A few days?

I've almost finished Madness by Marya Hornbacher. I can't read for too long cos I can't focus.

I'm seeing my college councillor next thursday and possibly showing her my black books. Only one other person has ever seen any of my BB's and that was Hope and the one she saw was while I was at school and I burned it.
I'm on my ninth. Mum wants me to talk to her about futher help and then I have to go to the docs. Mother thinks they might have some sort of medication that can help me. She says she can't say anything that she hasn't already said to me, so it's up to me to get the help I need.

On the one hand I'm glad she's taking more notice, but on the other hand she's still not...I mean, she won't even take a day off work to come to the docs with me.

Had a bad night last night. Didn't drag myself out of bed until gone 2 this afternoon.

Not in the best of moods for some reason, not sure why.

There's not really much to say, everything's the same as usual, no shocking updates or anything.

Not that any of my updates have ever been shocking or anything.

Voices are getting louder. I hear them in my head but they're seperate from me. Listen to something on headphones that go in your ear. That's how they sound to me.

Anyway, I'll post later.

Turn around

Mum's a legend once again. So she let's me make a DK on her WOW account and apparently she's seen an improvement in me since I've been playing Abracadavour so she's going to pay for me to get my WOW account back XD

DK - Death Knight
WOW - World Of Warcraft

I found my favourite Meat Loaf song on Youtube so been listening to that non stop - Life Is A Lemon (I want my money back).

So things are looking up.

xXx

Good enough for your lies

I haven't written in a while. Haven't had much to say. Went to the summer solstice at Avebury yesterday with my sister and her boyfriend. Met a few of my mates from college there. Had a really good time actually, despite the amount of people there....but Avebury has an amazing vibe. There was a drum circle there and they were still playing when we left at half 2 this morning. We were going to stay all night and watch the dawn but we were twats and didn't take enough blankets so we got too cold. There was a drum performance as well, they were acting out the story of Little Red Riding Hood. It was absolutely fantastic.

That's about the good part of the last few months.

Mum insists that if I want help about my 'issues', I have to get it myself but if I do that people will think I'm malingering. Maybe I am, maybe it's nothing. I don't know. I'm not a psychologist.

She said I had to get a job and she couldn't provide for me anymore but that didn't stop her saying she forked out £80 a fucking month to the people sorting out her debts. She doesn't give my anywhere near that much.

She said she couldn't afford to pay my busfare but she said she did.

Anyways...that's it for now.

Letters

I wrote my last letter to mother today. One final attempt to make her see.
I guess part of me must care somewhere or I wouldn't bother getting out bed...and that sounds like a great plan...but I can't find it. The part that cares I mean. I'm numb.

I might post how it goes. Dunno.

I've realised that the things I say on here probably aren't the things I should. Perhaps they are inappropriate.

I'm socially inapropriate and awkward anyways so I guess it was inevitable really.

Having a whiny blog I mean.

Well that's it for today, I'm too tired to write anymore.

I think I understand now

There's something wrong with me. I don't mean illness or disorder or any of that shit. I mean me. I mean that I am wrong. Perhaps I should say there's something wrong about me rather than with me.

It's the only explanation. Surely if there was something wrong with me than they'd have noticed by now. So I'm just wrong.

People don't like to be around me. I'm not a very fun person to be around. I don't have many friends. I mean...I don't really have any. I guess Hope's my friend...she's my best friend...but I don't think she really likes me that much. I'm not a likeable person.

I have people at college but...I'm not really their friend. I'm more the person they can hang with when there's no one else.

My own parents can't stand to be around me. I wonder whether they're actually my parents. I've always wondered it but now it's more than just wondering whether I was adopted.
It's that mother somehow gave birth to this monster by mistake.

There's something about me that nobody likes...it makes people wanna leave me, wanna get the fuck away from me.
I don't want to drive people away but I always manage to.

I had a dream at some point either this morning or last night, I'm not sure which cos I kept waking up...but I had this dream and all I can remember is screaming to my mother that I hated her.

I can't figure out if I do or not. Hate her I mean. I'm not sure because maybe it's not her. Maybe my ex best friend was right, maybe I really am the 'bad guy'.

Every story has a bad guy...sometimes you feel sorry for this bad guy or you can relate to them...but they're still the bad guy. And sometimes there's the bad guy that you're praying someone kills off. Maybe I'm that kind of bad guy.

I wasn't very much fun to be with anyway
Let the blood run red cos I can't feel

- Scissors, Slipknot

There's something about me that makes everyone go. Like my dad. I don't mean he went cos he didn't. But he hates me. He can't stand to be around me and I can't remember the last time he even hugged me. He hugged my sister. He loves her. He doesn't love me.

Mum's just given up on me. She's turned her back on me, she doesn't love me anymore, if she even did to begin with.

I'm like Sumara, from the ring...except I can't burn pictures into things. But she couldn't help being evil and she just wanted someone to love her but they couldn't.

Fine. I don't care. People would just get in the way.

Commitment

Hello to everyone who occasionally reads this blog or just happens to be reading this post.

As those of you who have seen this blog before may have noticed, I gave it a bit of a makeover.

I have been down and blah lately, and not doing so well on anything so I thought a change of scenery might spur my commitment levels. Since I don't like going out, the only change of scenery I can do is on here, hence the little makeover.

I think it looks kinda cool now. Way better than it looked before.

I'm a little way into reading Madness by Marya Hornbacher. It's good but I think I actually prefer Wasted. I don't know, we'll see when I've finished reading it, it's a little early to judge right now.

I was on facebook earlier and everyone keeps putting up photo's of fun times and everything with their mates...and I don't go out, I don't have very many friends and so I don't have any cool pictures to put up. It makes me feel awful lonely.

I've given up on trying to explain anything to my mum because she replied to my email by basically saying that's tough deal with it, if you want a life you have to get off your arse and get a job. And some other stuff.

I never said I wanted a life. I think I'm making progress with my councilor though...I don't know yet, might be a bit early to tell.

I've decided that since I've completely screwed up my educational career, I'm going to commit to my own personal experiment and my own personal education. I'm going to teach. I am going to teach my mother what happens when she doesn't listen to me. I'm going to teach what happens when people push and push someone until they snap.

I'm going to commit to this. I've said that before but I was too afraid to truly commit because part of me still believed that I could somehow 'make it'. I have since learned that there's no making it for me...there's no life beyond this thing inside of me.

There's nothing. I'm nothing. I'm going to waste away. If she won't let me kill myself quickly, then I shall die slowly.

I don't care how it happens, as long as it happens. It's actually more interesting to do it slowly now that I think about it, because then you can examine each process in detail. It lets you watch yourself, as if somebody else, just watch yourself slowly turn to dust.

Quite a few posts ago I said I didn't wanna be dust. Well, asI always do, I have changed my mind. Dust is better than what I am now. So I will. I'll rot away into dust and there is nothing anyone can do to stop me.

Shockingly...

... I am so not surprised.

College won't let me be a full time student cos they don't think I can cope with it. I'm actually grateful for them for that but of course my mother is less than pleased.

I wrote her a letter explaining it and I asked her to email me. I gave her plenty of time then went downstairs. what's she doing? Fucking playing WOW. I don't even know if she bothered reading it but she didn't look at me so I guess she's doing the ignoring me. Whether she noticed me or not is besides the point, you'd think that her child's welfare would be more fuckin important than a stupid fuckin computer game.

I give up. It is fucking POINTLESS.

In other news, I found some books in the library to read my way through, including Madness by Marya Hornbacher.

I was trying to light the grill earlier and the fucking thing we have that's supposed to light it has stopped working so I asked dad if I could borrow his lighter and he said it doesn't work because people don't pay attention to what they're doing.

Which is fucking bollocks because he moaned the other day about it not working. He always has to make me feel so much worse about myself, like everyone's just plain stupid compared to him.

I've had it.

claustrophobic

I'm not claustrophobic but I'm feeling it today. My room is a box. I can't move around in here, it's all fucking...grr.

I have things in boxes and boxes on piled on boxes and everything's all squashed and fucking stacked and it's all stuffy and I can't breathe.

And no one will help me, they're like just throw stuff out, I can't, I've already sorted through my stuff when we switched rooms and I've already thrown out everything I can, I'm a hoarder with a lot of interests, I'm gonna have a lot of stuff and it doesn't fucking fit into this box of a fucking room.

I need new furniture as well but my mum won't help she's like you have to get a job.

I am so fucking sick of her saying that every time I even mention money she says I have to get a job.

I FUCKING CAN'T. I CANNOT STAND BEING WITH PEOPLE, I CANNOT STAND ACTING LIKE EVERYTHING'S OKAY AND I CANNOT FUCKING STAND LIVING LIKE THIS!

I am so fucking sick of her telling me to just fucking get over it and get a life. I'm so sick of that. I can't have a life because I don't want to fucking live, I am sick, DEAL WITH IT.

I am so fucking angry right now and I can't get it out. I need to cry and it won't come out.

Everyone's fucking abandoning me like what's going on in my head and what's fucking happening with me right now doesn't matter, it's just a fucking phase or something and it's just making me so angry cos my sister she gets fucking everything, everyone fell over for her when she was 'sick' and they scraped and fawned and oh poor baby and all that fucking shit and yet I need some fucking understanding and they're shoving me away, you're a big girl now deal with it.

I'm tired of every day being a fucking struggle.

It's like I'm not allowed to have anything wrong, I'm not allowed to be 'sick' I'm not allowed to have problems or any of that shit.

I'm the one that just has to keep my fucking mouth shut and deal with it while everyone else gets to go moping around like their problems mean the end of the fucking world.

I'm not allowed to get upset about anything. Ros gets upset and she's fucking depressed oh my god how do we stop this illness, I get upset and I'm being a spoilt fucking brat.

I'm so sick of this and I can't fucking stand it anymore it's driving me fucking crazy and then they turn round and act all fucking surprised when i swallow a load of pills.

you bastards, you blind fucking bastads!

laugh in your loneliness
child of the wilderness
learn to be lonely
learn how to love life that is lived alone

- learn to be lonely, phantom of the opera

Size 12

Okay so I'm at 155 lbs at the moment which I know is huge and also I don't think that's what my ticker says because I put on weight but I'm losing it again and I'm no where near my target BUT... My mum was sorting through the washing and she says these aren't mine and I said well they ain't mine cos they'll be too small for me and my sis goes they ain't mine so I goes give them to me and when I lose more weight I can wear them.

So last night just for the hell of it I decided to try them on as a bit of reverse thinspo...

Well, I am wearing them now. They FIT. I was heading towards size 16 and now I am in a pair of size 12 jeans.

Yes, I have a lot more weight to lose but this is a HUGE step!

Watching Girl, Interrupted. Not only is it a great film but it's good thinspo, firstly because one of the girls is an anoretic called Janet, but also because Angelina Jolie's in it and she is GORGEOUS. Her character's called Lisa and she's a sociopath. She's very good in this film and I just love her character. I wish I was as brave as Lisa.

But yeah, Angie's so thin in this film, my favourite bit is when she's lying on Suzanna's bed as she says 'well that's what the-raping's all about', she's so thin, she's gorgeous, especially her thighs man, my thighs are like four times the size of hers. Probably even bigger.

I'm getting better at resisting temptation. I mean I failed epically yesterday when my aunt offered to get me an ice cream (I know, uber fuck up), but I was thinking about food so much when I couldn't sleep last night and I didn't get up and eat anything, which is a big step and also when I was watching tv today usually in the adverts I get something to eat but I didn't.

I have eaten today but I've made sure I've kept my calorie intake below 500. I'm dropping it slowly because every time I drop it completely, I end up going totally haywire and binging. Hopefully if I drop it slowly I won't fuck up so much. I know I'm going to occasionally because that's my bodies way of saying hang on what the fuck's going on. But I'm not going to give up this time.

The only thing in my life right now is my...I don't know what to call it. I'm not going to say illness because that's not what it is. I don't have a disorder or anything and because of what I've written in this post so far I'll just say for the record that I'm not talking about my wannabe-anorexia, because that's not what I mean.

There's more to this than trying not to eat and most of it doesn't have anything to do with food or weight or getting thin. That's just a tiny bit that happens to be the bit I'm working on now.

I'll call it Psychosis (not to be confused with the psychosis they use to explain a step down from Scizophrenia, it's purely psychosis as in the way my mind works).

I had this really weird 'trip' last night. (No I didn't take any drugs).

I was stood next to my computer and my window was open cos it's so damn hot, so I could see two reflections of myself. One was in the main panel of the window and the other was on the open bit. Now the one on the main panel looked normal, normal skin tone, normal eyes, just a plain old reflection.
The one on the open window looked...in a word demonic. The skin was really pale and so were the lips and the eyes were really sunken in and dark and the eye brows were barely visible and...urgh, it really freaked me out.

But anyway...just wanted to share my little triumph. I know it probably doesn't seem like much but...fitting into a size 12 is a good step for me. I just hope this keeps going well. I'd love to walk into a clothes shop and be able to fit into a size 8 or 6...God, I can't even imagine that.

I haven't fit into anything lower than a size 12 since I was...11? Yeah I know, I was a fat kid lol.

But I'm not gonna stay one :)

Peace out. xxx

Bad

I was bad and had a cornetto today. Went to a band thing with my mum cos she's in the Cricklade band so...hence the ice cream.

Although my attempts at not eating are pretty pathetic at the moment I'm not letting it bother me because I'm still not eating as much as I used to so...besides these things take time right?

I don't really have anything to report today but I'm seriously bored, watching 28 days again...

I don't care what I'm doing as long as I'm not eating though I may have to eat soon. It's just until I get back to college though because if I tell mum I ate at college she won't get so pissed. And then I'll have work to do so I won't constantly be thinking about food.

Not that I'm constantly thinking about food at the moment cos all I'm thinking at the moment are stupid day dreams about ending up in a nut house.

I'm preparing myself for what I'm going to do in a few months...Everything is going to depend on whether I get EMA or not.

I need that money cos I sure as hell can't get a job. It's hard enough going to college.

Yeah I really don't have anything to say right now so I'm gonna randomly surf the net.

xXx

Abe's Rabbit

I'm reading this guys story of his experience in a psych ward and he's just said this really funny bit.

Cindy is one of the staff on the ward and she asks him if he's suicidal, he honestly admits 'yes', 'do you have a plan?' and he replies 'No, but I'm open to suggestions.'

Lmfao.

-----

Oh my god, I finished his story (which is called Abe's rabbit, hence the title) and it made me cry!

Basically this guys roommate is called Abe, and Abe has no one but his pet rabbit, no job, his wife got custody of his kids and wouldn't let him see them, so he literally had no one but his rabbit. No one was feeding his rabbit so there he is getting worked up in a psych ward because he couldn't feed his rabbit.

The guy who's telling the story, Benjamin I think his name was, he realises that Abe is really upset and thinking suicidally, so he tells him of a rabbit he had called Houdini, and how this rabbit used to get a carrot in his mouth and pry the door open.

Ben was on watch in his room with Abe trying to make sure he didn't kill himself but got a call from his wife.

When he goes back to his room it's filled with nurses who won't let him in. You can imagine, Ben's upset with himself for leaving his post as it were and thinks Abe's killed himself, then hears a staff say there was a carrot in the door to keep it from closing and then he realises Abe just escaped. Above his bed post there's a little note scratched into the wood with the knife he thought Abe would kill himself with which read "Went to set a rabbit free. Remember, even the smallest things in life are worth living for."

So cute.

Well it's 5pm and I haven't eaten a thing. Been down the street twice so I've had a little exercise.

Had about two thirds of a litre bottle of Kx (stimulant drink 30mg/100ml) so I'm feeling pretty spaced.

It's kind of a nice spaced though. It kind of stops all my thoughts from drowning me out kind of thing.

Which is nice ... "I don't like it here, it's terribly crowded" - Hatter, Alice in Wonderland.

Watched it on Box Office twice yesterday I absolutely love it. I'm in a wonderland type place but mine is much, much nastier than Alice's.

It's great though, one of my favourite childhood stories (Alice in Wonderland) in a film directed by my favourite director (Tim Burton) with my favourite actor (Johnny Depp) playing my favourite character (Hatter). AND Tim fixed the one thing that pissed me off with the story, which was that she woke up and it was all a dream.

What I love about the way Johnny plays the Hatter is that his accent changes depending on where his head is at that moment, like if he's spaced out it's all ooooh and light and weird, but when he gets mad it's hard and randomly scottishy.

I don't know how to explain it but if you watch it I'm sure you'll get what I mean.

I like the March Hare as well, the way he just goes 'Spoon', that made me laugh my arse off.

But yeah...

If I had my way, I would make everyone leave me alone, I would lock myself in my room and I would stay here and crawl into my head and just rot.

That's what people should do. Leave me to rot. It's all I want and it's all I deserve.

And I honestly think that some day soon it's gonna happen and I'll be completely mad and nonsensical and off my head and completely round the bend in a 360 degree spin.

I don't know...I just know that I'm not...fine.

but hey ho.

Addition

I have a tendancy to read through my posts once I've posted them, and as I was reading through the last one I thought of an example as it were of how Slipknot make me feel.

It's as if they all joined into this one being, and this being slams its fist into my chest and slowly rips out everything inside me that I hate. It fucking hurts like a sonofabitch...but it's like emptying a slowly sinking rowboat with a bucket. I'm in the row boat and Slipknot are my bucket. Yeah I'll probably sink anyway, but for the time being, it's scooping up the water and bailing it out, giving me that little bit more time.

I just wanted to add that,

It was really odd a minute ago because I swear to god, I heard someone calling me so I listened really hard and they called me again, so I paused my music and called did someone call me and mother was like no and I was like are you sure and she was like yeah and I was like oh...that was weird.

It was sketchy as, I proper heard someone calling my name.

But yeah...that's it from me for the time being.

Stay (sic) fuckers!!!!!

The R.I.P Entry

The R.I.P Paul Gray issue of Kerrang!Magazine is out, dedicated to Paul and Slipknt, and I got it today, courtesy of my mum. So I decided I'd do an R.I.P Blog entry. It's very sad. You know what, fuck this. He shouldn't have died. What I want to know is why the fuck was he alone? Why wasn't someone with him?

Slipknot wasn't your average band that puts out one album and steadily gets shittier every album after. They were getting better and better every time.

I cannot even begin to explain how...who they were to me. People say things like you don't even know them, you're just infatuated with them, they're just rockstars yadda, yadda, yadda.
As far as the first point goes, you're wrong. I do know them. Maybe I've never met them, but through their music I have learned them. I have experienced them. I have that connection. Maybe one day I will meet them, I pray I will, sadly I'll never meet Paul.

On the second point, no. I'm not infatuated with them, I am in love with them. And I don't mean like your average shitty little teenage crush with men she can never have, that's not the love I'm talking about.
I don't love them in the sense of 'oh yeah, I'd totally fuck him'. I wouldn't do that to any of them. It's more...familial?

Like, they're my brothers or my fathers or something. They looked after me without knowing it at a time when everyone else abandoned me. I don't know whether any of you understand the love that I'm talking about.

Through their music, they took my anger and my rage and turned into an energy so...profound and free and...I would come in from a shitty day at school, ignore the incessant bitching of my house (it wasn't a home at the time), slammed up to my room and listened to Slipknot. Some times I would self harm, some times I'd just lie there and either cry or stare into thin air. Almost every time I would fall asleep in their midst. Fully clothed, shoes and all. Sometimes I'd get really sore feet because it would have been raining and I wouldn't have taken my shoes of. It's a habit that I haven't managed to break yet.

Some may find it disgusting but...it's kind of hard to explain. At first it was just that I was too upset or angry to do anything other than just lie on my bed and I'd fall asleep and wake up and go to school. After a while it was a routine. If I just went straight to sleep I didn't have to deal with any of it.

And I started getting fatter and everything and eventually it got to the point where I couldn't bear to get changed because I didn't wanna have to see my body. I wasn't very high on the hygeine either...I now have a fear of baths...I'm better than I was but it still takes me a while before I can work myself up to having one.

It's actually getting worse again because I'm so fat at the moment. You never know, maybe if I lose weight it will make it easier for me to bathe. I don't know why but I have a very strange relationship with nudity.

At most times I'm disgusted by it, I don't like seeing the crude details of the human body, and yet most of my artwork centres around the female figure - mostly the breasts. I don't know why that is because I absolutely hate mine and if I could afford surgery I'd have them removed.

I don't know. sometimes I get into these strange moods of fascination, fascination in things I wouldn't normally be fascinated by...rotting meat for instance. Nudity. Sex. Death (although death I am almost always interested in). Bones. Torture.

All things that most people hate.

I don't know, maybe my wish to be thin isn't just about weight. Like, people wanna be thin so what? They can feel beautiful, they can get some self-confidence, so that people will look at them and notice them?

Yeah I'd feel more beautiful if I were thin and weight has always been a worry for me, I've been dieting most of my life with scant success. But...there's something else to it. I do not have an eating disorder, right? I know and understand that stick thin is not healthy and all that shit. It's not the desire to be thin that makes me wanna get down to what I admit is stupidly thin.
You know, in a lot of cases of anorexia (I acknowledge, not all), the person doesn't realise that they don't need to be that thin to be accepted which is what they start out wanting, it's only when the illness has taken control that they wanna push it as far as they can go.

That's not what it is for me. My perceptions aren't skewed by an eating disorder but still I want to go down that road. It's kind of difficult to explain and I might try later but I feel I've gone off track.

I was talking about Slipknot wasn't I? Uh...oh yeah, I'd come home from school and listen to them until I fell asleep. Yeah, then I'd get up and listen to them on my CD walkman full blast on the bus, wear my slipknot hoody to school for which I got bitched at by students and staff alike.

I point blank refused to do PE because I got bullied because I couldn't do something or I was a freak or whatever they chose to bitch about me for that particular day. I had been wearing my slipknot t shirt because I didn't have a standard PE kit...

So my bitch of a PE teacher turned round when I said I wasn't going to do PE and I had a note from mother saying because I was bullied...she turned round and said you cannot skip PE just because you do not want to wear a white tshirt.

I was like You fucking What?

Now bear in mind that the last few PE lessons I had taken part in I had been slagged off for being fat, slagged off for being a 'goth', tripped up with a hockey stick which fucked my wrist up, had a cricket ball thrown at my face and told that if I kicked this girl again (which I didn't do, I apologised for it because I was tackling her for the football) she would bash my face in. Among other things.

So I had a go. Teacher turned round and said take part and if they bully you come to me and I'll sort it out. Okay I says. So I take part. A group of girls that had it in for me for something that had nothing to do with them started so I went to Teacher and said look, they've been saying such and such.

You know what she said? IGNORE IT. And walked away.

So I went back to point blank refusing to do PE. Slipknot were my only companions at the time. I had no friends. All those who had apparently been there for me had turned their backs, some viciously.

So I dropped out of school for a year and literally my only human contacts my family and Slipknot. I listened to them evey single day.

Admittedly I was a bit obsessed but those of you who know the feeling I'm about to describe will understand why Slipknot appealed to me. It was like a pressure inside that would not stop building. A kettle boiling over, one of those cartoons where they go totally red in the face with anger and steam comes out their ears. I was consantly getting headaches. It twisted my guts up like a deformed cats cradle.

And here were these nine guys half the world away who stood up and screamed this is how I feel and this is what I think and I don't give a fuck what you say.

The first time I actually really clicked to Slipknot was a school morning, me and my sister Kim were watching Kerrang while we were waiting to go outside for the bus, and Duality came on.
The first lines, 'I push my fingers into my eyes, it's the only thing that slowly stops the ach.'
It was like they reached in and pulled something out of me.

An acquaintance who turned out to be a total skank bitch leant me Subliminal Verses. I listened to it over and over and over and over again. When she first leant it to me we put it on in my room and we were sat listening to it.
Most of it I was like 'oh yeah, this is cool'. It hadn't hit me how important it all was yet. Until it got to number 11. This is my all time favourite song and if you have not heard it, youtube it because it is beautiful.

Vol.3 : Subliminal Verses - #11 - Vermilion Prt 2.

She seemed dressed in all of me
Stretched across my shame
All the torment and the pain
Leak through and cover me
I'd do anything to have her to myself
Just to have her for myself
Now I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad

She is everything to me
The unrequited dream
A song that noone sings
The unattainable
She's a myth that I have to beleive in
All I need to make it real
Is one more reason
I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad

But I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me

Catch in my throat, choke, torn into pieces
I won't, no, I don't want to be this

But I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me

She isn't real, I can't make her real
She isn't real, I can't make her real

That was off the top of my head, I don't need to look the lyrics up, as soon as I heard this song those words and the sound of his voice, the melody, the harmony, the accoustic guitar, all of it, it was all engraved into my heart.

I'm glad it was dark in my room as we were listening (the light had gone bust and we hadn't got a new one yet), because I was crying.

From then I was hooked, it was like they had opened a floodgate inside and the only thing that could control it was their music.
I searched the net every day like I was possessed, trying to find out every single thing I could about them.

Their music was so real that I didn't want to just listen to their songs, I wanted to know the men behind the masks. I think I succeeded but still I don't fully know them. I guess I never will unless somehow in a remarkable twist of fate we become proper friends. (Ha yeah right!)

The point is, is that losing Paul, who the other guys said was the essence of Slipknot, was more than just losing an idol. It was more than just oh my god that guy in that band is dead, what a shame.

Losing Paul was like losing a close friend, losing a member of a really strange family, and losing a part of something inside of me.

They were like Gods for me, I practically worshipped them and though I have grown up a lot and matured a lot since I decided that they had to be divine, and I know they are simply extraodinary men now...they will always be a huge part of me and Slipknot will forever be a part of my life and will forever be my favourite band.

I will never stop listening to their songs even if I live to be 80 or 90 or 100.

Nothing will ever make me stop because they make me feel alive, they make me feel real and at a time when I question this reality and I don't feel real, I'm sure you can appreciate how important that feeling is.

This may well mark the end of Slipknot - it hasn't been announced whether they'll ever continue. Part of me wants them to because I love Slipknot, but part of me would hate it if they did...It's not Slipknot without Paul.

Loads of fans cry how Slipknot saved their lives or stopped them from killing themselves and all that and I'm not disputing that or anything...Slipknot didn't stop me from trying to kill myself. They didn't save me.
I don't think I can be saved. I tried to kill myself even with the life line they threw to me.

But they held me up for a long time. Things don't just go away because you have an awesome band to listen to. I clung to them like a child clings to her teddy bear.
Even now, when I'm down or pissed off I listen to them and I feel like part of the darkness is being torn away.

No matter how much I listen to them the darkness will always come back but they free me. They give me an energy that is fucking...it's unexplainable.

No matter what they decide now, I will stand behind them as I have done for the last 6/7 years.

Paul was one of the founding fathers of Slipknot and he was a loving and giving guy. He would do anything for the fans and has literally given the shirt off his back.

It makes me angry how he was such a good person and yet the ones in the lime light for being good people are the ones who jump on the bandwagon for publicity. (Admittedly this is not true for all celebrities but it is for a damn good number of them).

But I guess the best people are the ones who are just good because that's who they are and who don't need a lime light to show it.

I'm sad that I'll never get to meet him.

As I've said before Paul, you will be missed but never forgotten and always...ALWAYS LOVED!

My highly evolved brain

I was sat in the garden earlier with my mum and my sister, and my sister said how no one ever bothers listening to me cos all they hear is blah, blah, blah.

You know what. She's just jealous cos I got such a better brain than her. Not that she's stupid. She just doesn't think like I do and I think it pisses her off cos she's older than me so she's supposed to have all the 'oh my god' epiphany moments.

I think my brain is like...a mutation or something. Like...I have all these ideas that seem fucking stupidly simple to me and yet no one else seems to get it.

Or like I'll be explaining something and no one will understand what I'm saying they'll just ask what the fuck I'm on about.

I feel kinda sorry for them.

Like people say oh I wish I had a magic power or if you had a magic power what would it be and all that. Well I have one. It's not a magic power as such it's just my BRAIN. Cos I think so differently to everyone else.

I drew a picture the other day that represents my head so to speak. In the centre is a black figure, and coming out one side of its neck is a blue head that's sad and crying and on the other side of its neck is a red head that's all rah and angry.

Maybe that's why they put me in the programme, they want my brain. That's not very fair if you ask me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I have a better brain than anyone else, I'm simply saying that mine's different, that's all.

I sometimes think that my brain isn't a human brain.

I wish I could get scans of it or something. I'd love to see it. I feel kind of rude calling my brain it. After all, my brain is what makes me, me. Maybe I should give it a name. Hmm.

Well, when I'm having my on/off moments with the little girl in my head, I have a tendancy to call her Nancy. I think I'll name my brain after her, I'm sure she'll be pleased.

Although, it would mean I'd have to specify whether I was talking about Nancy (the brain) or Nancy (the little girl).

Okay, Here's how it works. Nancy as in the little girl will be Nancy. Nancy as in the brain will be NaNcY.

There. Simples.

I feel kind of sorry for Nancy. She gets abused. She's only little, no little girl should be abused. Little girls are supposed to be looked after and stuff.

She's a bit strange though. Not that I'm one to talk, haha.

She has some unusual ideas. But then, so does NaNcY so I guess they make a good pair.

can't think of anything else to say really

As days go by

Days blur into one long event when I don't have anything to do.

I apologise for how ridiculously long my last post was. Sketchy lol.

I cleaned the kitchen, cleaned my room and did some washing today. For a total slob that is like...huge. So I'm pretty pleased with myself for that.

So far today I've had a bowl of lettuce and cucumber and a banana. I had a little too much yesterday so I'm gonna try and not eat anything else today.
Dropped a lb.

I'm such a disgusting weight at the moment I'm not even going to tell you. When I've lost half a stone or something, then I might tell you, but not yet.

It's disgusting, honestly.

Fat Piggy.

I keep thinking 'what if I stay fat forever?' 'What if I die fat?'...I don't wanna be fat forever and I definitely don't wanna die fat.

This is like...urgent. I HAVE to lose all this weight. I used to be able to feel my hip bones when I lie down, now I can't even do that. I can't feel any of my bones. All I can feel is flab...FAT. It's so disgusting. Makes me wanna puke.

I have a ridiculously strong stomach though which is probably a good thing cos I swear to god if I was really like...squeamish or whatever, I would probably be puking every single fucking day, that's how disgustingly fat I am.

I'm on thin ice at the moment. I know that if something goes wrong now, I'm not gonna be able to take it.

It's like I'm balancing on the edge of the precipice (sp?) - the slightest breeze and I'll fall.

It's not that important though, the way things stand inside, I might just fucking jump.

I know there'll be people who read this and say oh for fuck sake just do it already.

Don't waste your breath.

If I had enough pills, I'd be taking them.

This is what we call 'biding time'.

I don't wanna be fat when I die, so I'm going to bide my time until I'm thin and then I'll think about it. If I try figuring that out at the same time as everything else, I'll just draw a big blank.

There's only so much moping you can do before you run out of things to say though so...I'll be off until I have something to type about.

Dance, magic dance

The title is a song from one of my favourite movies, the Labyrinth with David Bowie as the Goblin King.

Speaking of movies, I just watched one called Centre Stage and it was really good - talk about thinspo though. It's about this group of friends in a ballet academy.

*sigh* I wanted to learn Ballet, but mother said I didn't have the right body and I didn't start young enough.

So even if I was stick thin and started right now I'd never be a good dancer.

I'm not all that graceful either. I've often thought of figure skating but I suppose you have to start learning that young too...and you'd have to be graceful for that as well.

I guess I'm never gonna be anything that requires grace...which is a shame because I love the concept of graceful movement...just movement in general.

It's five to one in the morning as I'm typing this. I slept most of the day and have since drank almost an entire 1litre bottle of Dart which is a red bull wannabe...so I'm rather awake.

I've been a disgusting pig as far as calories go but I'm refusing to let it bug me because I'll just do better tomorrow. I know how I can stop myself eating to much.

In my previous post (I think, my memories shit at the moment) I said about the conversation I had with mother about eating when I'm bored. Well in return she said 'you should find something to do then'. I think I've realised what I shall do. Read.

I was reading Wasted the other day by Marya Hornbacher, and she wrote how when she was little she used to do nothing but read books. That's what I was like. It's amazing how much I have in common with her.

I just have to get more books to read. Unfortunately the library in my hometown is shite, so I'd have to go into town to get anything decent...which means leaving the house...which I'm reluctant to do...

I'll have to anyway when college starts again but I have to find books to read until then...

Could prove troublesome but I'll manage it. I have the whole collection of Sherlock Holmes to read...and I could always read Wasted again.

Marya did this thing where she read all these books and then she wrote down her favourite quotes. I might do that.

That'll pass the time. I can make a list of all the things I can do with my time so as not to eat so much. If all else fails I can just make list after list even if I never complete them all.

I'll write poems and paint and draw and read. Anything and everything to keep myself busy...

I need something...anything to keep my mind from eating me alive. Seriously, it's totally consuming me. Unfortunately art of any kind is a window but at the same time it's therapuetic so...

At school, drawing was the only way other than hurting myself that I could get all the chaos inside of me out.
Now though, it's a different kind of chaos and drawing doesn't work so well.

My god I am so awake and I can't really do anything because it's so frickin quiet.

I have so many ideas man. So many. And it's really pissing me off because I'll never get to do any of them. Like I have this idea for a film that's a cross between a ballet and an opera/musical. Not only that, but it's totally masquerade. The masks are central to the story.

Even if I survive the hell inside of me...I don't think realistically that I could do any of the things that I dream about...save one.

The only thing that's been with me my entire life and the only thing that I'm remotely good at.

Writing. And not only that...There's writing in all the other things I dream of doing. There's writing in film, there's writing with photography, there's writing in songs etc etc etc.

I don't know, but my therapist in malborough house, he said I was a really good writer and that he could talk because he had a degree in english and he said that I shouldn't ever give it up. Sad, I can't remember his name, I'll have to ask mum.
He was cute though lol. He had lovely eyes.

It is actually driving me nuts right now how quiet it is. I'd go for a walk but a) I might wake everyone else up and b) that would mean going out...which I don't really wanna do.

Just put some music on so it's not quite so quiet. Ah 'Feathery Wings' by Voltaire. Gorgeous song.

You lost at sea
Do you need me?
Do you need directions?
Hey put down the gun
What are you thinking
You were someone's son

The taste of tears
The sting of pain
The smell of fear
The sounds of crying oh

I have quite a few books...Lots in fact. If life goes splendid, which I doubt it will, I fully intend on having a house big enough so that I can have my own personal library and not just a skimpy collection of books, I mean book shelves lining the walls with a moving ladder and comfy chairs and everything. The works.

Never gonna happen but it's a nice fantasy.

The weather's foul at the moment.

Well...not quite foul...It's just it annoys me when it's sunny. I don't like wearing skimpy clothes because I don't particularly like my body...and right now I consider anything less than jeans and a t-shirt to be skimpy...and I get irritable when I'm hot.

Another thing that I hate is that everyone's always oh be happy, come outside, it's sunny.

You know what? Things do not suddenly become hunky dory just because the fucking sun decides to shine.

I'm not going to be all happy and smiles and fine just because it's bright outside. The sun does not magically erase all the shit inside of me and I can't just tell everything to fuck off and come back another day because I want to enjoy the sun, I'm sorry but it doesn't work that way.

My sister hates me for it because she loves the sun. She's always fucking going on about her SAD and all that. Yeah, we get it, you're happier when the suns shining, good for you.

And then when it's raining she gets all miserable and starts complaining non stop about her SAD and how she can't do anything because of her SAD and rah rah rah.

You know what, I appreciate that people suffer from that and it drags you down or whatever but it doesn't mean you have to dump it on everyone else.

It's like she automatically expects everyone to fall over themselves for her any time...and it's not just her SAD it's EVERYTHING.

She acts like she's so fucking hard done by. I know this might seem like a perfect time to call my a hypocrite given what I write on my blog, but that's what blogs are for. People rant and rave on blogs. She doesn't confine her mopiness to a blog however, she fucking sits there and whines all the fucking time and it does my head in.

Yeah, right now I'm whining I guess, but this is a fucking blog. You don't have to read it. But she sits there and whines and moans and oh woe is me such a hard life all the fucking time whether people wanna listen or not.

And if you say the slightest thing against her it just adds to how fucking hard done by she thinks she is.

My god she makes me so fucking angry some times. And she is so fucking selfish at times. She expects everyone to drop everything for her and run around after her and if you don't you're being a bitch but then she doesn't do anything in return.
Like for instance, when we switched rooms the agreement was, you help me with my room I'll help you with yours. Well I helped her with hers. I helped move her stuff in I helped strip the wall paper and I helped paint. Did she help me with my room? No. She shoved my stuff in, in awkward piles, and then said she'd help when university finished. Well she's off for the summer now and where is she? At her fucking boyfriends house.

She's always getting me to fetch things for her or go over the shop and yet she doesn't ever do things like that for me.

She had a on-her-high-horse go at me for starting smoking and oh-you're-so-stupid and all that bollocks, and yet three months after supposedly quitting and aren't I fucking fantastic, she starts up again and still says I'm stupid for smoking.

She's allowed to constantly complain about how shit her life is going yet she can dictate what I'm supposed to do with mine, she can sit there and tell me all this horse shit about just fucking dealing with it and yet she walks around as if she's fucking heroicly bearing the worlds troubles on her shoulders.

Makes me so fucking mad. See, that's what still being awake at half one in the morning does to you. Makes ya moody. Or at least, it makes me moody.

Wow, I've been zoned in to what I'm writing so much that I completely missed one of the songs on my playlist. I do that so often. I'm so involved with whatever I'm doing that I can't hear anything else, or I totally zone out, like I'll be thinking about something so hard that I just won't hear anything.

I like doing that. If I can hear everything that's going on it makes me skittish and edgy.

But then so does being bored. Although being bored depends on what mood I'm in cos if I'm down and moody being bored just makes me sleepy, but if I'm in a specific do-y mood then not doing anything makes me twitch. Lol. Kinda hard to explain but hopefully you get what I mean.

I might write a book kind of like 'Wasted'. I think I could do that...I've only really written one book in first person so it could prove an interesting challenge.

The only thing is Marya wrote it whilst looking back on what had happened...If I were to write about whatever thing I'm experiencing...well, it hasn't finished yet. So instead of looking back on it, I'd be writing it as I go.

Not sure how that'd work.

A year in the life of a...

What am I? I've never been diagnosed as anything, I've never been hospitalised seriously, yes I've attempted suicide but only twice...yeah you could call me a self harmer but it's not all that serious.

So there's not really anything there, you know?

Marya was specifically writing about her eating disorder and its affect on her life.

I haven't been told by a medical expert 'You have this disorder', so I can't write a book claiming that I have any disorder. (Not that I'm saying I think I do have any kind of disorder, I'm simply saying that people who write books like these are writing it in the view of a disordered person whereas I don't have that basis.)

Maybe I'll start it out as notes and research and stuff and then if I 'make it' I can figure out something to base it around later.

Sounds like a plan.

I had an idea ages ago that I'd start a proper scrapbook, like some times in films and stuff, like in the ring 2 I think it was, you have the main characters finding a scrap book and it revealing an important part of the story line.

Image and text, image and text, image and text.

It'll have everything. Little doodles. Stickers. Poems. Thoughts. Everything a good scrapbook is supposed to have.

And then, if I ever really do do a book like Wasted, I can include pictures of the scrapbook, as well as pictures of art and things.

Sounds like a plan to me ^_^

Of course...all this hangs on whether I actually make it or not.

Wow. Now there's a story line. A girl kills herself and all she left behind her was a scrap book. I don't know who would become the main character but then they'd have to retrace the girls life using this scrap book, to figure out why she did it.
And in the end they'd never know because it was the demons in her head that she couldn't reflect onto a page that killed her and all she really wanted was to tell her story.

That'll give me something to do. I'll write that as a story, that'll stop me eating so much...when I'm writing, I can go for fucking hours without moving, let alone eating anything.

Well, it's almost 2 AM and I hate to think how long this post it so I'm gonna fuck off and start this story.

Laters.

Dazed and Abused

"Disrespect me cos I'm ugly
Don't give me your stupid pity"

Oh my God, I just remembered something as I was thinking how to start this blog. It was a few weeks ago though. I was writing on here, and my mum asked who I was talking to (because I'm usually talking on MSN) and I said I'm not I'm writing on my blog and she said I didn't know you had a blog, you'll have to give me the site so I can take a look. And I was like... Uh...
And she asked what it was about and I said it was just where I ranted and she said Oh, perhaps I won't look then. Breathe a sigh of relief. I don't mind if she wanted to take a look since there's nothing she can do to change the way I think, it's just I now what I've written on here would upset her. I don't upset mother unless I have to.

But she pissed me off a bit today. She has these little slimfast milkshakes she takes to work for her lunch and I said when I start college again can you get some for me and she was like do you know how expensive they are.

That translates as a No.

Which infuraited me purely for the fact that when my eldest sister is all oh I wanna lose weight she makes lists that mum gets in the shopping but when I want something oh no it's too expensive.

She's just trying to keep me fat because I'm the fattest in the house at the moment and it makes them feel better about themselves to have someone fatter around.

Well sorry folks but it's not gonna fucking stay that way. A day will come soon that you will be crying your hearts out at how much thinner I am than you!

I'm usually not this competitive but it makes me mad that they moan at me for complaining about being fat and not doing anything about it but then they won't support me when I do decide to do something about it.

Inconsistant.

I told my first proper ED lie today. (I'm not saying I have an ED, just that this was the kind of lie that I know for a fact ED sufferers use). I was makin myself a bowl of lettuce and cucumber and my mum was like I don't think that'll be very filling and I said Oh I already ate, tonnes, been eating most of the day, cos I get bored y'know, and I eat when I'm bored.

Since for most of my life I've eaten out of either emotion or boredom, it wasn't that hard a lie to tell. She bought it.

She has no reason not to. She'll only start worrying when I'm visibly loosing weight.

Though I would hate to worry her (a worry unfounded I might add because I'm not doing it dangerously or anything), she won't be able to do a damn thing about it because I'm over 18. Ha. Ha ha.

I hate a thinspo playlist which I'm listening to...has some good songs on it, like Never Good Enough which I know quite a few people on here like. The playlist is called Goo. Lol. ot a very good name I admit, but I can't exactly have it called Thinspo for all to see now can I. That'll give everyone the wrong impression.

I mean...people wanting to lose weight normally can look at thinspo and stuff. It says in slimmer magazines that you do better if you have motivation like a piece of clothing you wanna fit into or something. So anyone can look at thinspo not just ED people.

I have this top that's my physical motivation. It was a top my friend bought me for my birthday (early birthday present) just before I went to see Slipknot live, and it says Mrs Corey Taylor. (For those who don't know, Corey Taylor is the lead singer of Slipknot and Stone Sour).

I can fit into it but it's in that style where you really need a good figure to pull it off. It makes me bulge in all the wrong places. I generally bulge in all the wrong places anyway, but I wanna be able to wear it, so...the lbs must come off.

Watched 28 Days today. It's a film about rehab with Sandra Bullock. It's a good film.

Got my interview at college on Wednesday. Joy. I don't even wanna fucking go back to college but mum will go apeshit if I don't. And she'd want me to get a full time job instead. Don't want one of those either.

Everyone keeps shoving life in my face as if that'll make me deal with all the shit in my head but it's just making it ten times fucking worse.

"You won't save me
Cos I'm not the fortunate one"

For some people the best way to deal with things is to throw themselves into their work or whatever.
Well that doesn't work for me because when something's bothering me, it distracts me so that whatever I'm working on comes out shit which just pisses me off even more and then I'm worse off than I was to begin with.

I need everything to stop and since that's not a practical demand to make, there's only one option left.

Anyone who could feel what I'm feeling would get it.

And it's no use telling me that other people are going through worse than I am because a) it doesn't make it easier and b) they're not because they're not real. None of this is real and it's all I can think about...that and food and what I really wanna do is get the fuck out of here.

It's like a complete loony episode here and I want out.

There was a kid stood on the roof of a building and people were encouraging him to jump. There was a girl who was beaten along with her boyfriend into a coma. The boyfriend woke up, she didn't. Her dreads had been torn out and everything.
Children are dying just cos they don't have clean water and there are people in hollywood complaining that they only get such and such million a year.
There are parents who beat the living shit out of their children and men who fly planes full of innocent people into the ground and fathers who rape their daughters and mothers who rape their sons and sisters who get drunk and sleep with anyone who comes along and brothers who gets high every day.

The list is endless, it just goes on and on and fucking on.

And it's all true, it all happens.

So why the fuck would I wanna stay here. It's too fucking sick to be real. Someone has stuck me here and is forcing me to experience it...punishment, experiment, pleasure, who the fuck knows.

But I know this isn't the real world and I know I don't belong here.

I will find a way to wake up and I'll fucking kill them.

thoughts

This world is a psychological rapist.
Life is supposed to a good thing and yet it's forced on me against my will, just like sex is when you're raped.

I've not been raped in this world but I think I may have been on the other side. I have many daydreams and nightmares that I can't control. They scare the shit outta me.

I'm trying to convince my best friend that this isn't real and she's trying to convince me it is.

They're using her against me. I KNOW YOU'RE THERE YOU WANKERS! YOU CAN'T CONTROL ME! GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA THIS PROGRAMME!

You know what, I'm just gonna fuck you're programme over you arseholes I don't care anymore you can't make me do something against my will

Tuesday

I apologise for the lame title. Couldn't think of an interesting one. I meant to write earlier today but for some reason the internet wasn't working. I then discovered that I had accidentally turned my wireless button off when I turned my laptop off last night.

Mother's pissed with me again but maybe she'll finally stop nagging. She assumes that any time I don't do what she's asked is because I'm deliberately trying to spite her or something.

Yes, mother, I'm a horrible person.

You aren't my mother. I might not even have a mother. Your lies arne't your own so I forgive you.

Your just saying what they tell you to so I can't hate you.

Besides, even if you were real, I'm too tired to hate anymore.

I had a load of really philisophical things to say...but now I can't think of anything.

Descent into Chaos

Firstly, to Holly - Thanks honey. I wasn't expecting comments. I'm so used to just babbling away on here, I don't do it because I expect someone to say anything and although I don't really care if anyone gives a shit or not, it's nice when someone does, y'know? So, thank you.

And now, the programme. Warning - The following programme contains mild language and moderate horror which may cause offence to some viewers.

Well, probably not the horror bit, I just liked the sound of it. And if we're honest, when does my blog NOT contain language?

What world is this?
What kingom?
What shores of what worlds?

I've almost finished Wasted. I stopped reading it for a while because...well, that's it. I could say I wasn't in the mood for it but that's not really accurate.

I'm high on dehydration. My head feels like it's full of sand and my eyes feel gritty. Yeah, I'm tired.

There's nothing of interest to me out there in the world. If anyone's seen Sherlock Holmes and recognises that, I know it's what he says and actually, it's slightly different, but he's right.

Perhaps the reason I love Sherlock so much is that I can relate to him. I have a similar mind, not a scratch on his intellect but emotionally, we are rather similar.

But I'm not here to talk of Sherlock Holmes. As most can expect from a Blog, I am here to talk about that which my world revolves around - my mind. Arrogance and narcisism no longer enter into the equation because everyone's lives centre around themselves. That is the way of humans. Even people who vow to die for others or to work to help others or whatever, it's still a selfish action. Helping others makes us feel good, and it's that good feeling that's the reward.

What goes on inside my head is the centre of my universe. I have no life before my eyes - my entire existence is hidden behind them. My eyes aren't windows or doorways, they're walls, barriers.

All I can think about is the fact that there are pills in my box. And no - I'm not thinking of another suicide attempt. There's not enough pills to pull it off. I'm just wondering if taking five or six would get me high. For the past three days all I've been able to think about is drugs. I imagine getting a needle and sliding it into my arm, into my vein, pushing down the plunger and letting whatever drug slip into my bloodstream.

I've never been completely high before, I've never done drugs. But right now it's all I wanna do. And what's more disgusting to me, is my desire to have sex. I've never had sex before because the whole concept of someone touching my disgusts me. But I feel reckless, restless, dangerous.

The idea of someone touching me, whether in lust or otherwise, is disgusting. But here I am, dancing a passionate dance, not with a man or a woman but with life, or rather the rape of my life.

I am not living in the conventional sense of the word. Yes, I breathe. Yes, my heart beats - at times pounding like a panic attack but without the panic. Yes, my skin is warm with life. As far as I know, my eyes are not yet blank or dull, they still sparkle with life.

But that's where my living state ends. I feel like I'm dying. I know there are many in the world that would scream at me upon reading that one sigle statement. They'll say to me try living with cancer, try living with some horrific past on your shoulders, try this, try that, then complain about how you feel like you're dying.

I know. I've said it many times to myself - how can you feel so bad about life when there are so many who've been through so much worse? Those begging for life, and you're shunning it. Terrified of death yet you embrace it.

I know. I know.

And yet this is my life.
This dream state. I'm not an insomniac by any account, but I have the feeling of being never fully awake but never fully asleep. When I sleep, and I wake, I do not feel as if I've slept at all, and when I'm awake, I feel as if only part of me is awake.

I see things too. Not physically, I mean in my head. And people never take it seriously as soon as I say in my head because everyone sees things in their head and you only need to start worrying if they claim to actually see it as you see the computer screen. It becomes less serious when it's in your head. But it's very serious to me. I see a recurring vision as if a memory.

I, that man strapped to the hospital bed in that government lab with wires in my head.

Dreaming of being a woman is weird enough but my consciousness seeps through like blood through bandages.

The recurring vision? I did something bad that pissed someone off, so they hunted me down and kidnapped me. I was locked in a basement area for weeks and tortured. Finally I couldn't stand anymore and I snapped. I killed them. The police came, I was taken to hospital and allowed to heal. But I had killed whoever did it to me. A murderer I became. I've sensed something weighing on my consciousness, knowing I did something terrible, but not knowing what it was. So anyway, as penance for my crimes, I was handed over to the government who strapped me to a table and stuck wires in my head.

Perhaps this is some kind of rehabilitation programme. The girl they have me masquerading as is timid, weak, a pacifist of all things. Maybe it's some kind of subliminal signalling so that when they wake me up, I'll be timid and weak. I feel it's working.

I have this abstract sense like part of my mind is awake in the real world. Not enough to leave this programme though.

I don't know the people here, they don't know me. But I wonder, is there anyone the other side looking for me?? Did no one love me enough to save me from this? But then, if I killed someone...But no. If what I keep seeing really is a memory, which I'm having fewer doubts that it is, I had no choice.

It's all surreal. I can't quite get a sense of reality. It's not happening. I can't see straight. The lines are blurred, my breathing slurred. Breath out, wait, remember oxygen, breath in, breath out, wait.

Cold running through my stomach and up my back, tingling in my legs. Making love to the air, lips moving to form the words as they pass through my mind but no sound...would it croak, would it crack, would it be nothing but a whisper on the air, my voice?

Things that made me happy don't any more. I feel empty, like a void inside, a mass of nothingness, cold and dark. It feels safe though, anger is an enemy I no longer want...It's grip is the grip of a jealous lover. Not that I would know what a jealous lovers' grip is like.

Love is empty, or at least it is to me. Love seems to go hand in hand with touch and as I do not want anyone to touch me, it kind of makes it obsolete. Since no one can touch me how would they love me?

Disinterest is a major cause and symptom of lethargy. And lethargy is something I have bags of at the moment. Mother tells me I should get out more, I can't spend all my time in my room, it's not healthy, I have to go and find my life.

You can't find a life you have no interest in, even when she comes slamming into you and demands your attention like a petulant child, stamping her feet and screaming all the air from her lungs in an attempt to make you listen.

I would make a terrible mother and as for this particular child I would be as a murderer again, letting her wilt like a flower in the baking sun, rays slamming down upon her unprotected head, decieving her with half-arsed tales of love and care. I'd shout and scream at her, make her cry, tell her I hate her and that's she's a burden to me and to leave me alone. Now I'm the petulant child. And in my childish, selfish world, Life would wonder off, cry in her room and not come down for a dinner I didn't make. She'd slowly starve, too sad to even cry anymore, and eventually she'd wither away and disappear.

I'm a terrible mother to Life and she a terrible daughter in swift retribution.

It's not that Life is terribly unkind to me, it's that I simply do not care anymore. How can you care about something that isn't real? Perhaps the men in white coats decided as a murderer I didn't deserve happy pills.

I think I've raved enough. There comes a time when every raving lunatic has to pause in flow of reasoning, the chaos inside the mind has to collect dust for a while, until the loon is ready to release again.