I found some tips...they're on a healthy diet website but I figured they could still come in handy.
Put your fork down for at least 10 seconds between mouthfulls
If you do eat, try to eat something containing fibre or protein...they fill you up for longer.
Instead of eating, drink a hot drink
Eat with chopsticks, they can't be used as a shovel as much as a fork can
Most of the time, when you think you're hungry, it's actually because you're thirsty so drink instead of eat
avoid processed carbs...they digest quickly and push your blood sugar, so as soon as your blood sugar drops again, you'll want to eat again - that's stuff like white bread, sugar etc
don't call it a 'diet'...diets are temporary and you'll just put all the weight back on...change your life style
take before and after photo's (if nothing else, seeing your fat self will convince you not to give up)
Don't be so secretive...obviously you're not just going to blurt out to everyone that you're not eating...but talk about is as if you're just trying to eat more healthily
exercise to music, it lets you zone out so that you're not thinking about how hard it is to keep going
Hmm, this one is from this guy who lost a load of weight and he says never to listen when people say 'you've lost enough weight' or 'i like you the way you are'. He says the point is, if YOU aren't happy the way you are, YOU have to do something about it
Take vitamins - if you're not eating properly especially, because it means you're body is getting what it needs without the need for food
Have a set goal - or a list of goals...know what you're aiming for
This dude says he weighs himself at 10am every morning - so all that bollocks about them saying you should only weight yourself once a week or you're ill blah blah...it's bollocks cos this guy did it healthily
What's more important to you? something that's going to taste good for like...half a minute...or feeling beautiful for life?
Exercise...I know this is an obvious one but let me point something out. When 'they' say to you 'you can't stop eating because your body will store the calories', they're telling the truth. But if you exercise, you're switching it to burn rather than save.
patterns and routine are good
this next one depends whether you care about being healthy or if you just wanna get as thin as possible no matter what the cost - whether you like it or not, you're body needs some fats...but these fats you can get in tablet form, like omega 3 etc...so you don't have to eat to get them.
make things different or you're gonna get bored and slip up...if you eat an interesting salad, you're less likely to go oh my god this is so boring i'm getting a piece of that interesting looking chocolate cake!!!
walk, walk, WALK! WALK! Walking is perfect. Sure you can run I guess, I personally don't like running. Walking is good. Walk everywhere.
Sooner or later, you WILL fuck up. It happens to everyone and it's just one of those things. The important thing when you fuck up is NOT to give up. Fucking up is not the same as quitting, okay? Just say to yourself, okay. I fucked up. Now I'm going to put that behind me and continue.
ooh, apparently, people who eat white bread are more likely to have belly fat. I wish I'd known THAT years ago.
So yeah...just some stuff, hope it helps.
Sunday, 31 January 2010
Biscuits
Mum bought me some biscuits last night and now I have them in a box. I'm thinking one a day and nothing else...except coke of course...DIET coke.
There are twenty one in the box...I counted. Each biscuit has 63 calories. If I ate them all at once, that would be 1,323 calories. There's 3,500 calories in a pound of body fat.
So that's over a third of a pound of body fat.
I just calculated my body fat...42%, that's disgusting!
That's a very high level of fat.
Well I already knew I was overweight.
Hm...this weight loss website, it says "If you want to lose weight for good then reduce the calories that you have in your diet."
ticker time - going to create a ticker
There are twenty one in the box...I counted. Each biscuit has 63 calories. If I ate them all at once, that would be 1,323 calories. There's 3,500 calories in a pound of body fat.
So that's over a third of a pound of body fat.
I just calculated my body fat...42%, that's disgusting!
That's a very high level of fat.
Well I already knew I was overweight.
Hm...this weight loss website, it says "If you want to lose weight for good then reduce the calories that you have in your diet."
ticker time - going to create a ticker
Dream
I had a dream when I finally got to sleep this morning. I was looking at myself naked (Which at the moment is a very, VERY disgusting sight) and my collar bones were jutting out, I was so thin.
It was beautiful. I still want to reach my goal weight of 70lb...and I'll keep trying even though loosing weight isn't my main focus at the moment. What is my main focus you may ask?
Well two words for you. SELF. DESTRUCTION.
Oh the beauty in that.
My target is to implode. Break down. Collapse inwards.
My thoughts are eating away at me like millions of tiny nasty insects...or one big nasty scary monster.
It's funny how you get convinced as a child that the monsters aren't real, and then the scariest one is actually you!
Or at least, a part of you.
You try to run away but you can't, and it always finds you. You know, it makes me wonder...which of the characters in my head is the real me? Am I the monster, am I the scared little child, I'm I the mouthy hardarse that doesn't give a shit about anything or anyone?
Maybe as I break down, it'll break away different characters so I find out who I really am at the end.
Saturday, 30 January 2010
Don't drink water!
Here's a conspiracy theory for you that ISN'T JUST A THEORY!
It's real.
DO NOT DRINK 'DRINKING WATER'!!!!!
Drinking water contains flouride. It's supposedly to reduce tooth decay but that's not really why the water companies put it in. Flouride does reduce something, but it's not tooth decay, it's mental abilities. It kills off your brain cells! It dumbs down the entire population so that the real world rulers can control everyone easier.
That's why they tell you that you're fat and should drink more water because waters good for you and your brain is 80% water so you do need to drink water. So they chose water to put the flouride into. They probably could have put it into something else but because the human brain is mostly water, that's the best thing to put it in, so they go round telling you to drink more water, not because it'll make you better and make your brain work better, the COMPLETE opposite!
They're saying it all to you so that you'll drink the water and get dumbed down and go 'BAAAAAAA' like all the other sheep!
Don't do it, dudes! They're just trying to control you.
Think about it! Consider everything going on in our world...consider everything that's already happened.
It's not that hard to accept when you put all the pieces together. They are trying to control us all.
That's why when you start realising the truth, you get called crazy!!! That's why at school, if you're one of the weirdo's that don't accept their manipulation, they don't do a damn thing for you when the kids bully you. They won't help you because you know the truth and then you're branded for life as one of the broken ones. One of the ones they couldn't manipulate.
Most of the horrible things that happen to the supposed human race (don't forget, humanity isn't real) were probably set up by the true world leaders.
You know what....Hitler was probably one of them. You know his whole theory on the arian race...They're trying to make a new world people!!
But every time one of us weirdo's pops up and screams truth, it puts a kalibash on their plans for a little while.
That's why they invented this so called mental illness!!
So that they convince the others not to listen to us. Psycho disorders probably don't even exist.
It's just a way for them to control the ones that realise what's going on. If they catch you and drug you and make you complacent then they can slowly start brainwashing you into one of their products. But the time will come when they don't need us anymore.
They probably drive people to suicide deliberately. Because if they kill themselves cos they learned the truth, they won't be able to share that truth with everyone else.
The rest of the population aren't quite to the point of blind submission yet so they wouldn't get away with just killing us.
I don't think that times so far off though.
The only way to stop them is to have a total world revolution!
Don't let them manipulate you anymore. And Don't Drink Water!
At least not without killing flouride. You scientists in the community will have to figure that one out, I ain't too good at science...but caffeine might work!
Just resist the control dudes! Don't become one of their plastic products, fight the mainstream, fight the order, fight the system!
We are at war, man, you, me, everyone, and we cannot let them win!
fade away
I seem to be fading away...answers to my words grow less and less frequent.
It's like I'm not the only one who wants me to disappear anymore, everyone else does to.
And I don't mean the arseholes who have always wanted me to just die, I mean the people who have told me to stay. It's like they're tired of trying to stop me.
It's a good thing I guess...but maybe it's more because they don't actually think I'll pull it off.
Boy are they in for a surprise.
You know, the people who are really running the world probably have the whole internet bugged so they know what everyone's saying. Our governments are just for show and you know, maybe the governments don't actually realise how pathetically powerless they are. There's a group behind them...secretly ruling the entire world...and someday soon they're gonna kill us all. Except the people that are really good at something, they'll be enslaved probably.
They're just trying to control everyone. There's another reason for all you pro-ana's not to eat...they probably put drugs in food to make people more complacent and submissive...why do you think there's so many fast food places around? Everyone gets hooked on the money part because that's what they pummel into your minds, but it's not about the money, it's about the CONTROL!
You know, they probably set the war up in afghanistan on purpose as a diversion.
You ever seen V for Vendetta...it's kind of like that only not because it's not our government, it's the group that secretly run the whole world.
Don't let them control you!
Friday, 29 January 2010
Marya
Quite a few of you may know a book called 'Wasted', by Marya Hornbacher. Well I sent her an email to say how brilliant it was and how it really reached me, and guess what???
PAUSE FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT
She replied! I got an email from her :D
She was very sweet.
I have some updating to do.
I can't remember if I mentioned that I got a message on the phone from my tutor Una to say she wanted to talk to me. So I went along and she told me to go see my art teacher Caroline, and my photography teacher Sam caught me up so the three of us (me, Sam and Caroline) sat down to discuss why I was missing so many lessons.
Sam said that it was possible for me to do most of my work from home and Caroline dropped me down to Level One so that I didn't have to do an exam.
So today I had a meeting with Una, and she got me in to see the college councilor (joy), and he's gonna try and get me a weekly slot.
It doesn't make me wanna go to college any more so than I did. Nothing some councilor will say could make me want to go to college.
I have a headache :( And I have to go to work soon :(
And I have tomorrow off, WOHOOOOOOOO!
A whole saturday off yay.
I'm seriously considering learning the violin. Did I mention that in a previous post? Well, I am. I'll pick up a cheapy one from Argos just to see how I get on and if I do okay, I'll eventually get an electric one... but I'm of two minds as to whether I will or not...
Because what's the point of getting a violin if I'm just gonna cop it anyway.
Then I'll just play violin to bide my time. I'm considering writing a completely honest and revealing book all about my mind before I go. Just so I have something to do while I wait.
We'll see.
So yeah. Hope all of you are doing well.
Peace out
xXx
PAUSE FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT
She replied! I got an email from her :D
She was very sweet.
I have some updating to do.
I can't remember if I mentioned that I got a message on the phone from my tutor Una to say she wanted to talk to me. So I went along and she told me to go see my art teacher Caroline, and my photography teacher Sam caught me up so the three of us (me, Sam and Caroline) sat down to discuss why I was missing so many lessons.
Sam said that it was possible for me to do most of my work from home and Caroline dropped me down to Level One so that I didn't have to do an exam.
So today I had a meeting with Una, and she got me in to see the college councilor (joy), and he's gonna try and get me a weekly slot.
It doesn't make me wanna go to college any more so than I did. Nothing some councilor will say could make me want to go to college.
I have a headache :( And I have to go to work soon :(
And I have tomorrow off, WOHOOOOOOOO!
A whole saturday off yay.
I'm seriously considering learning the violin. Did I mention that in a previous post? Well, I am. I'll pick up a cheapy one from Argos just to see how I get on and if I do okay, I'll eventually get an electric one... but I'm of two minds as to whether I will or not...
Because what's the point of getting a violin if I'm just gonna cop it anyway.
Then I'll just play violin to bide my time. I'm considering writing a completely honest and revealing book all about my mind before I go. Just so I have something to do while I wait.
We'll see.
So yeah. Hope all of you are doing well.
Peace out
xXx
Epiphany countless (warning, spoiler alert)
I don't know what number epiphany this is...
It's a realisation of something profound and yet I know that I'm still missing the big picture.
You know, I don't think there's even a fine line between genius and madness as it were anymore. I think that the more you know, the madder you become until you aren't smart anymore. Like, one of my biggest fears is becoming stupid and like, loosing all the knowledge that I've gained...but I've already started to decline. I'm really not that smart anymore. Which is really fucking depressing.
Anyways...the epiphany.
Well, it's kind of difficult to explain. It's like I know it but I can't quite put my finger on it enough to put into words.
So I watched The day the earth stood still with mother this evening yeah and at first I was like yeah it was a good film but the ending was a bit shit.
But the more I think about it, the more I realise that it was complete and utter fucking bollocks.
So basically what happens is this alien comes to earth to see whether the human race can be saved and at first decides that they can't and the aliens are gonna purge the earth of humanity and then the main woman character persuades him not to because she loves her step son so much.
The alien, played by Keanu Reeves, says "If you kill this planet, you'll die too. But if the human race die, the planet will survive." Basically he's there to save the planet because it's only one of a few planets capable of sustaining complex life forms and the human race aren't worth letting the planet die.
Well, if I was the woman, I would have told him to go for it.
There is no way in hell that the actions of one single woman and her step son would have counteracted all the knowledge he had of all the evil in the human race.
All the wars and murder and hate and lies and all that fucking shit cannot be wiped clean simply because a woman loves her step son.
Love doesn't stop wars, it doesn't stop rape or murder or theft or any of that shit.
So my epiphany was that the film didn't take it far enough. What if that's what's actually supposed to happen?
We are actually a virus on this planet, a disease, a plague, an infestation.
What if we are actually supposed to be wiped out???
I know there are some bloody good people in the world and I know there are some wonderful things. But as Sweeney Todd says in same titled musical
"Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief
for the rest of us death will be a relief"
I mean, what the fuck do they think is gonna happen? They're gonna keep fucking each other over and fucking up the planet and it's all just gonna work out fine?
I don't think so.
I've said it time and time again, people really need to start paying attention. I mean, some people are obviously picking up on it because there are enough films supporting it, but why the fuck isn't anyone acting on it?
I get that there are charities like the red and blue cross and all that, but it's not enough.
The people who care are a minority and so long as they remain a minority, the human race WILL self-destruct. It is humanity's destiny I think.
I'm praying that the planet is strong enough to survive the blast.
But considering how stupid and fate-tempting scientists are, I'm not so sure it would.
The sad thing is, I'm dead certain that the people who care will ALWAYS be a minority.
"No one lifts a finger because
it's just not in our culture
our culture is carrion
and we're all vultures"
Love ire and song, Frank Turner
It makes me so fucking mad.
I'm not sure what I'm trying to explain. Sometimes I feel like I'm so close to figuring everything out. I'm not sure what that 'everything' is, whether it's the meaning of life or just my meaning, I don't know. But sometimes I feel like I am on the verge of the most ground breaking epiphany in history.
But somehow I always seem to fall short of the 'KERCHING!' Lightbulb.
It's so frustrating.
I don't wanna go to college tomorrow. Today was horrible. I kept losing my breath. Like, I'd flush all hot and cold and then I wouldn't be able to catch my breath and my chest would go all tight and I got light headed and dizzy and I just wanted to cry. It was awful.
I hate that feeling. I use to get it at school all the time.
I don't know when mother will get it into her head that I can't function around people. I just can't do it. I can go a few weeks, maybe a few months, but then I just fall to pieces all over again.
I can't take falling apart any more. Every time I rebuild myself, I just break again. It's like piecing a china cup back together and lifting it up wihout gluing the shards in place. And every time I do it, the pieces break into smaller bits. I'm going to end up nothing but a pile of dust if I keep doing this. And I don't want to be dust.
I know people don't believe me. I'm not that stupid yet. I know people think I'm making everything up to get attention.
I don't give a shit. I'm telling the truth.
I think I may be ambivelant (splchk?)
It's like it's been bred into our consciousness as a race. First we fight amongst ourselves for food and shelter. Then we declare war on other 'peoples'.
And after so many wars, it's a part of our nature, so we have it encoded in us to declare war on either everyone else, or ourselves. Every single one of us, without signing any dotted lines, are fighting a war.
Whether it's an inner war, a war against particular groups of people, or actual like over in afghanistan war, we're all soldiers of one sort or another.
It's very sad.
And frankly it's pathetic.
It's like humans no longer have the capacity inside themselves to live without some sort of fucking conflict.
Like, the human race itself is the disequilibrium of this planet.
And for equilibrium to be restored, you'd have to remove the disequilibrium; you'd have to remove the human race.
I'm writing a book if anyone cares. I don't know what it's about exactly, I guess you could say it's kind of like my memoirs...or maybe philosophy. I don't know. But it's a book. I doubt it'll ever get published, but I like writing.
Wriing makes me feel better and I would so rather stay at home and write books for a living that try and fake my way through the world.
And one day, I'm gonna prove that what I say about myself is true, that I wasn't just making it up, and sooner or later, people will take my word for it that it's just better I stay in a safe place writing books.
I was not meant for this society. I don't think I'm even human. I'm like some sort of sub species that the planet gave birth to through mother...I dunno why. Maybe I'm some sort of viral hybrid type thing. Whatever I am...I want nothing to do with humanity. I despise humanity with a passion. In fact, despising the human race is probably my biggest passion right now, closely followed by despising myself.
I'm sure that someone who happens to stumble upon this blog will be thinking, "you're such a fucking retard, Maggot, your pathetic whining is no more than a stupid attempt to get attention. Get over yourself and go die."
I'd love to oblige.
I'm sure I've said this before, I'll say it again for the visually impaired. (No offence to those who are actually visually impaired.)
I couldn't give a flying fuck what any of you think of me.
I'm writing this blog for me. End of. I'm writing this blog because I have to get this shit out somewhere and this is the coolest place I've found to do it in, bar my journals.
There's something amazingly theraputic to typing furiously on a blog to let arrange all the shit in your head into some semblence of order. It doesn't usually stay in that order but hey, every little helps.
Thursday, 28 January 2010
3:07 AM
I can't sleep, so what's new...
I've been getting a headache on and off all day and I really want to sleep. Got college tomorrow...well technically it's today... until half five with a stupid three hour break in the middle, but I might just hide out in the town library until it's time to go home. Luckily thursdays are my night off so at least I don't have to worry about work.
So I made up with my mum over that stupid bloody letter. I'm not sure how serious she thinks I am but...I'll show everyone when the time comes.
My mind is eating me alive.
I'm probably gonna get kicked out of college if I keep missing lessons. I don't care though. I don't care about any of it.
It's irrelevant. I don't know what I want to do. I wish I could go away somewhere, just hide away by myself until I've figured my head out. I can't deal with the shit that goes on in my head alongside the rest of life in general.
It's too...mashed up together...life just makes it worse.
It would be easier just to turn it all off and make it all stop.
I can't take it anymore and I know how much of a bullshitting cliche that is, but it's true.
I can't do this. It's not my life, not me. I'm not that girl, I'm not that person, not that brain or that heart or that soul.
Nothing. It's nothing to do with me. I want no part in it. Trade seats, sell the ticket, no money back guarantee.
Rather sad really, but there it is.
Fuck it, no one's ever gonna get it.
I've been getting a headache on and off all day and I really want to sleep. Got college tomorrow...well technically it's today... until half five with a stupid three hour break in the middle, but I might just hide out in the town library until it's time to go home. Luckily thursdays are my night off so at least I don't have to worry about work.
So I made up with my mum over that stupid bloody letter. I'm not sure how serious she thinks I am but...I'll show everyone when the time comes.
My mind is eating me alive.
I'm probably gonna get kicked out of college if I keep missing lessons. I don't care though. I don't care about any of it.
It's irrelevant. I don't know what I want to do. I wish I could go away somewhere, just hide away by myself until I've figured my head out. I can't deal with the shit that goes on in my head alongside the rest of life in general.
It's too...mashed up together...life just makes it worse.
It would be easier just to turn it all off and make it all stop.
I can't take it anymore and I know how much of a bullshitting cliche that is, but it's true.
I can't do this. It's not my life, not me. I'm not that girl, I'm not that person, not that brain or that heart or that soul.
Nothing. It's nothing to do with me. I want no part in it. Trade seats, sell the ticket, no money back guarantee.
Rather sad really, but there it is.
Fuck it, no one's ever gonna get it.
Wednesday, 27 January 2010
Epiphany
I had a thought yesterday when I was eating a jacket potato.
I've been bullshitting myself out of eating because of reading everyone else how they're so paranoid about their weight and everything, but that's not why I don't eat.
Yeah, I want to be thin too and all you who are starving yourself to perfection, if that's what you wanna do, go for it. (I'm not necessarily urging you to starve yourself, more urging you to do what you wanna do. I do advise you to be very careful but I know that you guys aren't stupid and that you know that kind of thing's dangerous, you don't need me to tell you that.)
But that's not why I do it. Being thin has nothing to do with it. It really doesn't. If I get to the weight I wanna be, I'll get called sick, if I stay as I am I'm fat, no one's ever gonna be fucking happy with the way I look so why put myself through hell for them?
No, I'm putting myself through hell for me and no one else.
I actually see this is as a good thing. I mean, I've always been one to be completely different from everyone else. If I were to make myself sick, I'd be put into the category of bullimic, which is quite a full category, if I do everything without throwing up cos i have nothing in me to throw up, I'll be put in the category of annorexic, which is probably fuller than bullimic.
But not eating that has absolutely nothing to do with fat or thin, that's smaller.
I don't WANT anyone to figure out what I'm doing. I don't WANT anyone to put me in a category and say "Oh,the cure for that is blah blah blah".
I don't want their stupid cures.
If you've figured out that there's something wrong with you and you can sit there and say, I'm fucked in the head, then people always say oh you're just attention seeking.
I could deny it I suppose, I could say no, there's nothing wrong with me,I'm compeltely fine.
But it'd be fucking bullshit.
Just because you're aware of your mind-fuck, doesn't mean it's any less of a mind-fuck than someone who's not aware of it.
It just means it has the potential to fuck you up more because you know of it and can't do anything.
Quick intermission - It is FUCKING COLD!!!
But yeah, anyway.
I just thought I'd share that little revelation.
If there are people on this site that randomly flick between blogs, I just want you to know that not everyone does things for the same reason. I have nothing against anyone who does what I do, whether they do it for the same reasons as me or not.
My whole point is that you should do what you wanna do (within reason). I don't want people to hurt themselves, but at the end of the day, it's your body.
So if you're reading these blogs and thinking of starting your own but think no one would read it because you don't have an ED or something, don't even think about it.
People aren't here just because they have ED's. Go ahead and start your blog. Everyone should have a blog. Trust me, it helps. And I for one promise I'll read your blog if you send me a link or something.
Blogs are great things. You don't have to let anyone know who you are, you can keep it anonymous, so that you can just spill out whatever's pissing you off or hurting you, and no one needs to know who you really are.
So yeah.
Build the community people. Because on a blog site, it doesn't fucking matter what you are in this world, no matter how high up or low down in society you may be, no one cares what you look like. If you're an interesting person, people are gonna pay attention to you no matter what, so start a blog and share you ideals.
xXx
I've been bullshitting myself out of eating because of reading everyone else how they're so paranoid about their weight and everything, but that's not why I don't eat.
Yeah, I want to be thin too and all you who are starving yourself to perfection, if that's what you wanna do, go for it. (I'm not necessarily urging you to starve yourself, more urging you to do what you wanna do. I do advise you to be very careful but I know that you guys aren't stupid and that you know that kind of thing's dangerous, you don't need me to tell you that.)
But that's not why I do it. Being thin has nothing to do with it. It really doesn't. If I get to the weight I wanna be, I'll get called sick, if I stay as I am I'm fat, no one's ever gonna be fucking happy with the way I look so why put myself through hell for them?
No, I'm putting myself through hell for me and no one else.
I actually see this is as a good thing. I mean, I've always been one to be completely different from everyone else. If I were to make myself sick, I'd be put into the category of bullimic, which is quite a full category, if I do everything without throwing up cos i have nothing in me to throw up, I'll be put in the category of annorexic, which is probably fuller than bullimic.
But not eating that has absolutely nothing to do with fat or thin, that's smaller.
I don't WANT anyone to figure out what I'm doing. I don't WANT anyone to put me in a category and say "Oh,the cure for that is blah blah blah".
I don't want their stupid cures.
If you've figured out that there's something wrong with you and you can sit there and say, I'm fucked in the head, then people always say oh you're just attention seeking.
I could deny it I suppose, I could say no, there's nothing wrong with me,I'm compeltely fine.
But it'd be fucking bullshit.
Just because you're aware of your mind-fuck, doesn't mean it's any less of a mind-fuck than someone who's not aware of it.
It just means it has the potential to fuck you up more because you know of it and can't do anything.
Quick intermission - It is FUCKING COLD!!!
But yeah, anyway.
I just thought I'd share that little revelation.
If there are people on this site that randomly flick between blogs, I just want you to know that not everyone does things for the same reason. I have nothing against anyone who does what I do, whether they do it for the same reasons as me or not.
My whole point is that you should do what you wanna do (within reason). I don't want people to hurt themselves, but at the end of the day, it's your body.
So if you're reading these blogs and thinking of starting your own but think no one would read it because you don't have an ED or something, don't even think about it.
People aren't here just because they have ED's. Go ahead and start your blog. Everyone should have a blog. Trust me, it helps. And I for one promise I'll read your blog if you send me a link or something.
Blogs are great things. You don't have to let anyone know who you are, you can keep it anonymous, so that you can just spill out whatever's pissing you off or hurting you, and no one needs to know who you really are.
So yeah.
Build the community people. Because on a blog site, it doesn't fucking matter what you are in this world, no matter how high up or low down in society you may be, no one cares what you look like. If you're an interesting person, people are gonna pay attention to you no matter what, so start a blog and share you ideals.
xXx
Tuesday, 26 January 2010
smash goes the china
Before I explain the title's meaning, let me just say that I wrote it the way I did because I just thought of Ice Age 3, and I absolutely LOVE Buck, he's so wacky, and I just thought of the bit where Rudy stands on him and you're like oh no, and then he springs out from under Rudy's foot saying "POP Goes the weasel!" Lol.
Anyway, this post is called smas goes the china because that's what I just did. I don't know why.
I just picked up a plate, and I was holding it and I started thinking about things and then I just smashed it on the floor...harder than I actually meant to. I was just trying to break it, but I didn't just break it, I smashed it well and truly. Into little pieces.
I read mother's Diary entry for today. I know that's REALLY REALLY bad, but she doesn't tell me things so I had to make sure she was okay after the things I said to her yesterday, which she referred to in her diary as 'abusive'. Yeah, well and truly abusive.
You know what gets me the most? She wasn't mad at me. She said that it hurt her but she knew I had to get these things out and it worries her because she knows how many suicide attempts she miraculously survived and she wonders, what if I'm not so lucky?
I can't believe it. She's more worried about me killing myself than about all the horrible things I said to her.
God I'm such a fucking slag.
She's the only one apart from Hope who's not acting like my suicide attempts were just a phase that I'm growing out of. I was serious, I still am and I'll keep trying.
They say that if you want something enough and you try hard enough, eventually you'll get it.
So people may as well just stay out of my way.
Speaking of Hope, she's taking the whole self harm thing very calmly. She understands that I have to do it. She said she wished I could be happy without it, but that she understands.
I love her, she's so great to me.
Oh, and as far as eating goes, I'm a fucking pig, I've been binging quite a lot lately. I'm still not like eating enough to count as a full days worth of a 'normal' person's diet, but still eating too much.
I've just gotta find things to do instead of eating that's all. I think it'll be better when I leave work because that's what's fucking me up. I keep doing really well and then I go to work and the chef's made something that looks totally delicious so that I can't say no anymore. But I'm quitting in before the summer holidays anyway so...
I can't do a full time college course, come home and then go to work. I'm tired enough as it is and that's way too much social interaction for my liking.
I'm applying to EMA so that I still have a little bit of income. Mum's not too happy with the plan because she's trying to get her craft business up and running so she doesn't want me crawling to her for money.
EMA should be enough though, so long as I can afford cigarettes and the occasional dvd, it's all good. I'll just save as much of my wages now as I can so that should keep my going for quite a while.
So yeah.
Laters xXx
Anyway, this post is called smas goes the china because that's what I just did. I don't know why.
I just picked up a plate, and I was holding it and I started thinking about things and then I just smashed it on the floor...harder than I actually meant to. I was just trying to break it, but I didn't just break it, I smashed it well and truly. Into little pieces.
I read mother's Diary entry for today. I know that's REALLY REALLY bad, but she doesn't tell me things so I had to make sure she was okay after the things I said to her yesterday, which she referred to in her diary as 'abusive'. Yeah, well and truly abusive.
You know what gets me the most? She wasn't mad at me. She said that it hurt her but she knew I had to get these things out and it worries her because she knows how many suicide attempts she miraculously survived and she wonders, what if I'm not so lucky?
I can't believe it. She's more worried about me killing myself than about all the horrible things I said to her.
God I'm such a fucking slag.
She's the only one apart from Hope who's not acting like my suicide attempts were just a phase that I'm growing out of. I was serious, I still am and I'll keep trying.
They say that if you want something enough and you try hard enough, eventually you'll get it.
So people may as well just stay out of my way.
Speaking of Hope, she's taking the whole self harm thing very calmly. She understands that I have to do it. She said she wished I could be happy without it, but that she understands.
I love her, she's so great to me.
Oh, and as far as eating goes, I'm a fucking pig, I've been binging quite a lot lately. I'm still not like eating enough to count as a full days worth of a 'normal' person's diet, but still eating too much.
I've just gotta find things to do instead of eating that's all. I think it'll be better when I leave work because that's what's fucking me up. I keep doing really well and then I go to work and the chef's made something that looks totally delicious so that I can't say no anymore. But I'm quitting in before the summer holidays anyway so...
I can't do a full time college course, come home and then go to work. I'm tired enough as it is and that's way too much social interaction for my liking.
I'm applying to EMA so that I still have a little bit of income. Mum's not too happy with the plan because she's trying to get her craft business up and running so she doesn't want me crawling to her for money.
EMA should be enough though, so long as I can afford cigarettes and the occasional dvd, it's all good. I'll just save as much of my wages now as I can so that should keep my going for quite a while.
So yeah.
Laters xXx
Monday, 25 January 2010
The guilt monster
I can't say it's exactly what I feel because of what I wrote to Mother, but...It's not so much I feel guilty cos right now I don't feel anything but...I know that if I were my usual self, it's what I'd be feeling.
I don't even know why I did it. I mean, I was just writing to say I wanted to quit band because it wasn't my thing and then I just sort of...lost it completely.
It's not that I wanted to hurt her...I mean in a way I did. I was just so mad at her and I don't even know why. I'm mad at everyone and everything at the moment and she's the easiest person to take it out on I guess.
I'm so horrible to her.
Mother's been there all through everything...I said such terrible things to her. That she should have kept her legs shut or none of this would be happening...that she enjoyed being a victim as much of the rest of us.
I don't deserve a mother like her. I'm so cruel to her. It's not that I mean to be it's just that...I don't even know why I said those things.
But at the same time...there are plenty of things I have against her that just piss me off. Memories mostly...times that she's made me feel so fucking neglected and alone...like the rest of the family.
Maybe it's late payback.
I don't know. I have no fucking clue why I did that. But I did. And that's it. I can't go back and I don't even think I would.
It's hard to explain and I guess I could try saying that I'm not the one at fault here, that it was mother.
But I'd be lying.
There's no excuse for me. I'm just her bitch mistake. I was right though...she should kept her legs shut. Then I wouldn't be here and none of this bullshit would be happening.
And I was a mistake...I wasn't planned and I wasn't supposed to be a girl. Father always wanted a son.
Instead he got me. The pathetic waste of space that I am.
fuck it
I never meant to hurt you
I have to go to work soon, and I'm not sure I want to come home again afterwards. I wrote my mum a letter, and it's not very polite to say the least.
I'm not trying to deliberately hurt her, though I know it will. I'm just trying to make her understand.
It's just built up again I guess, all the pressure inside my head...and I just sort of exploded it out on paper, which admittedly I do alot.
I put it next to her bed so that only she will read it. My sisters home and if she reads it before mum, she'll bin it and probably start on me.
If she does...someone's gonna get hurt, probably me cos I can't fight but...
I don't know what's wrong with me. All I can feel is anger, I literally can't feel anything else.
I'm seething inside and I'm sick of it. Just a few more days til I get paid. Half it has to go on various bills (mums rent, bus card and vet bill) but the rest I get to spend on whatever I want.
Cigarettes, alcohol, pills and razors probably. And I'm going out with Hope on the monday, which will be nice. I haven't seen her since my birthday.
I don't want to fight with my mum, I just want her to understand and this is the only way she ever takes me seriously.
At least I don't have any doubts about desrving to cop it now. After this, I deserve worse.
I'm not really in a writy mood anymore, I sort of got it all out in the letter to mother...so I'm just gonna play solitaire til work.
xXx
Sunday, 24 January 2010
WARNING: Long rant continued
Yo
Before I go back to what I was talking about yesterday, I just want to reiterate how much I hate email scammers. If you recall the posts about those people who were supposedly the UK National Lottery saying I won, well I blasted them for trying to scam me and I got another email today that's apparently from the FBI, and they said they're monitoring internet scammers and that they've comfirmed that these people are legal and it's actually the UK lotter and all that.
What bollocks. Why would the FBI have a gmail account? And why would they be so quick to tell me all that? For one thing I'm in England and the FBI are American. So they should have nothing to do with me. They said something along the lines of we urge you to make the transaction. Well fuck you mate. I'm not giving some scam bastard £240 because he's told me I've won a million.
Anyway, I've just blasted them and basically told them in no polite terms to get fucked.
So, anyway...
I had this thought this morning about nothing being black and white. Like...I've always believed that the universe hinges on balance...but humans aren't like that at all.
It's not like oh you either love it or hate it. You're either a good person or a bad person.
It like night and day. This is a semblence of what I'm talking about. Day is light, and night is dark, but you always have dusk and dawn where one merges into the other.
Ying and Yang for example, has a dot of the other in it's centre.
So even the best of us have bad in us.
There's no way to stop any of it if it's a part of the natural order of things. But perhaps that's a conspiracy.
"Is that what you really think or is that what they'd want you to think?" (V, V for Vendetta)
Like...they've told us that it's the natural order and you know, everyone's always saying to me, it's life, deal with it.
What if that's just them saying that because they don't have the balls to try and change it.
Maybe it can change, they're just trying to keep things the same so that they have some semblence of control.
In Sharing the Secret, Beth reveals her biggest fear and she says that it's like growing up makes you forget all the things you knew when you were a kid. And I think she's onto something. I relate to so many things she said.
Anyway, what if she's right. Like as a kid you know that things should be different but then they drum it into you that this is life and that you have to accept it and then you slowly start to forget.
Sometimes I worry I'm starting to forget, and it's like, every time I start saying to myself, okay. It's okay to move on, you can go for it now, you can live now, I feel like I'm losing who I really am. It's like I'm slowly accepting it and forgetting why I'm angry in the first place.
Like I'm losing my own control and giving it up to 'them'.
And then I catch myself and pull myself back from the edge of blind submission and once again remind myself that I will NEVER accept any of it.
I feel sorry for those who have already given up on this war, like my mum. From what I can tell, she used to fight it like this as well...but then they tricked her into telling her she was 'better' and now she accepts it. She accepts that life is like this and she has to just deal with it.
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad she's not a self-harming suicidal alcoholic anymore of course, but it makes me mad when she says I know what you mean, I was exactly the same but...
But nothing. If you were exactly the same you wouldn't have given up the fight.
It's like...becoming an adult you're expected to give up this knowledge that you have as a kid. Like...you've spent the last five, six, seven years figuring it out and now they're telling you to get over it and get on with it. And then you slowly start to forget what you figured out, and then you've lost.
It's like they remodel you. They weren't made in God's image, we are moulded in theirs!!
Like what we think of them now, someone will think about us if we give in.
Like there's actually no such thing as an individual. It's like human culture is just an institution. That's why people spend so much time picking a group to be in. Like in Rebel, Rebel, Keanan Duffty says about this clip he saw of this guy asking a goth why she's all dressed in black, and she says she wants to be different, and then the camera zooms out and the room's full of people dressed all in black.
Even the labels that were originally designed to break the mould have become an institution. They are their own moulds now.
Everything's just scarily superficial and fake. Like everything's completely shallow.
So it's up to every kid out there. Are you gonna let them take you? Or are you going to fight?
Before I go back to what I was talking about yesterday, I just want to reiterate how much I hate email scammers. If you recall the posts about those people who were supposedly the UK National Lottery saying I won, well I blasted them for trying to scam me and I got another email today that's apparently from the FBI, and they said they're monitoring internet scammers and that they've comfirmed that these people are legal and it's actually the UK lotter and all that.
What bollocks. Why would the FBI have a gmail account? And why would they be so quick to tell me all that? For one thing I'm in England and the FBI are American. So they should have nothing to do with me. They said something along the lines of we urge you to make the transaction. Well fuck you mate. I'm not giving some scam bastard £240 because he's told me I've won a million.
Anyway, I've just blasted them and basically told them in no polite terms to get fucked.
So, anyway...
I had this thought this morning about nothing being black and white. Like...I've always believed that the universe hinges on balance...but humans aren't like that at all.
It's not like oh you either love it or hate it. You're either a good person or a bad person.
It like night and day. This is a semblence of what I'm talking about. Day is light, and night is dark, but you always have dusk and dawn where one merges into the other.
Ying and Yang for example, has a dot of the other in it's centre.
So even the best of us have bad in us.
There's no way to stop any of it if it's a part of the natural order of things. But perhaps that's a conspiracy.
"Is that what you really think or is that what they'd want you to think?" (V, V for Vendetta)
Like...they've told us that it's the natural order and you know, everyone's always saying to me, it's life, deal with it.
What if that's just them saying that because they don't have the balls to try and change it.
Maybe it can change, they're just trying to keep things the same so that they have some semblence of control.
In Sharing the Secret, Beth reveals her biggest fear and she says that it's like growing up makes you forget all the things you knew when you were a kid. And I think she's onto something. I relate to so many things she said.
Anyway, what if she's right. Like as a kid you know that things should be different but then they drum it into you that this is life and that you have to accept it and then you slowly start to forget.
Sometimes I worry I'm starting to forget, and it's like, every time I start saying to myself, okay. It's okay to move on, you can go for it now, you can live now, I feel like I'm losing who I really am. It's like I'm slowly accepting it and forgetting why I'm angry in the first place.
Like I'm losing my own control and giving it up to 'them'.
And then I catch myself and pull myself back from the edge of blind submission and once again remind myself that I will NEVER accept any of it.
I feel sorry for those who have already given up on this war, like my mum. From what I can tell, she used to fight it like this as well...but then they tricked her into telling her she was 'better' and now she accepts it. She accepts that life is like this and she has to just deal with it.
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad she's not a self-harming suicidal alcoholic anymore of course, but it makes me mad when she says I know what you mean, I was exactly the same but...
But nothing. If you were exactly the same you wouldn't have given up the fight.
It's like...becoming an adult you're expected to give up this knowledge that you have as a kid. Like...you've spent the last five, six, seven years figuring it out and now they're telling you to get over it and get on with it. And then you slowly start to forget what you figured out, and then you've lost.
It's like they remodel you. They weren't made in God's image, we are moulded in theirs!!
Like what we think of them now, someone will think about us if we give in.
Like there's actually no such thing as an individual. It's like human culture is just an institution. That's why people spend so much time picking a group to be in. Like in Rebel, Rebel, Keanan Duffty says about this clip he saw of this guy asking a goth why she's all dressed in black, and she says she wants to be different, and then the camera zooms out and the room's full of people dressed all in black.
Even the labels that were originally designed to break the mould have become an institution. They are their own moulds now.
Everything's just scarily superficial and fake. Like everything's completely shallow.
So it's up to every kid out there. Are you gonna let them take you? Or are you going to fight?
Saturday, 23 January 2010
Saturday 23rd January WARNING: Long rant
Greetings and salutations,
A word from the maggot museum. Today was just one of those days. My life is just one of those lives, I suppose.
It makes me so mad. I think about all the things people go through, all the shit that people have to deal with it, and it just makes me mad. Like...I know that there are so many people out there that have far worse lives than mine, and yet they just accept it. And then there's me.
So...why doesn't everyone want to die? Why doesn't everyone have a burning inside them that eats its way through their existance like maggots through dead flesh.
I mean, we are dead flesh, aren't we? If we've given up, we're dead. We're forfiet. I am. I know that, I have no delusions, not about that.
I would give anything to be free of this existence and the thing that bugs me is I know that somehow I have lived this life before. I've done it all. Everything's just repeating and repeating.
I just had a weird thought. What if I'm not really here, not really this person right now. What if the real me is actually somewhere completely different, locked in a cell somewhere seeing herself as the me I 'am' now. That actually made sense in my head.
So like...I might now even be a woman. Which would make total fucking sense since everyone reckons I should have been born a guy. I mean, I dress like one, I literally do - I buy guy's clothes, they're just more comfortable. I look like one, I act like one, I'm not all like oh my god, my hair (I know not all girls are like that, I'm just using it as an example).
So maybe I'm a guy somewhere, strapped to a table dreaming of this life.
If I am, then I have SERIOUS issues.
But it wouldn't be would it. If I was someone else...I mean it's just something you think about to make yourself feel better I guess, but in the end, no matter what you do, you have to come back to this.
Being a philosopher will drive you crazy, you know. Thinking all those clever little fucking things and knowing that you will NEVER know the truth. You will NEVER be able to prove any of it. You will NEVER KNOW!
You can have all the weirdest and most wonderful theories in the whole damn universe but they'll never mean a fuckng thing.
Like when people ask "Is the cup half empty or half full?" Psychologists ask this to see if you're optimistic or pessimistic. If you say half empty you're the latter, half full, the former.
However this is my reply. "It's circumstantial. If you're tipping it out, it's half empty, if you're filling it up, it's half full."
So am I pessimistic, or optimistic?
Not that it really fucking matters. My mum thinks I'm pessimistic.
But I always say look at it this way. If I convince myself that nothing good's going to happen, and it doesn't then I haven't set myself up for disappointment, but if something good does happen, I'm pleasantly surprised.
IF however, I convince myself that good things are going to happen and they don't, I'd be crushed.
So it's actually better to be pessimistic about things. It's a very logical approach.
Maybe life isn's actually life. I mean, we all assume that because we're 'here' and we have science and all that jazz, that everything's real and living and stuff. What if it's not?
What if we're in some kind of weird dimension that's in someone's head. Maybe the reason we all gravitate towards someone sort of theological belief is because we're actually just figments in someone's consciousness and they're sub conscious pops the thought 'god' into us because he would be our creator...having imagined us.
I'm sorry if this isn't making a lot of sense. It's kind of hard to explain.
Alas, I digress.
What was I talking about?
Ah yes. Life. I know my life isn't as bad as a lot of other people's lives. Someone could look at my life and then look at someone elses and go, bloody hell, maggot, you're living luxury here, quit complaining.
Like...it makes me feel kind of guilty. How I think of dying and freedom when someone else is getting the shit kicked into them by their own dad or something.
But I can't help it. There's horrible, horrible things happening in the world. Terrible things. And they'll never stop. Whether I live or die is irrelevant. The world doesn't revolve around me. It doesn't revolve around any one singular person so if one of us dies because of a series of unfortunate events, it wouldn't bother the world. The world would keep moving as it always does.
So if I die, those horrible things are still going to happen. And if I live, those things are still going to happen.
So what the fuck is the point in any of this shit?
Even if I work my arse off to become some great do-gooder who helps people, there's always going to be someone I can't help, someone I get to too late, or the occasional perosn who doesn't even fucking want my help. What do you do then?
What about those people that you get to too late? My mum keeps saying to me, it's not your job to save the world...
But it is.
But I've already failed. The only way someone can save others is to save themselves first, and I am way beyond saving. The only way you can save others is by having a clean soul, a pure soul...to be uncorrupted.
I'm too angry, too sad, too frustrated.
I've let the chaos in and now it's too late for me.
There are people dying right fucking now man, each second I spend typing on this fucking site, someone's getting the shit beaten out of them. Someone's getting shot, or stabbed and raped. Some arseholes beating a dog with a stick, somen prick is fucking his own daughter, some jerk is shoving an outcast around, thinking it's absolutely fucking hilarious.
There are people dying of diseases, or starvation, soldiers getting blown up, animals getting slaughtered, kids getting beaten up daily.
All this shit is happening every fucking second of every shitty day. And I can't do a fucking thing about it.
I suppose the one thing that makes me a woman, apart from the physical, is my maternal instincts. They are very strong and I think that's what makes me want to hold someone who is hurting close.
I wish I could find the kid who's just been beaten up so that I can help them up, find the guy who's hurting himself because his parents hate him so that I can tell him he's not worthless, find the girl who's just been raped so that I can tell her there are people in this world that actually love her for her rather than her tits.
But I can't. It's happening all over the world and I have zilch fucking power and THAT is why I can't stand it.
I can't stand it because I'm the one that's worthless. I can't stand it because I'm the one who's hated. I can't stand it because I CAN'T help.
Why should I eat tonnes and get hideously fat when there are kids out there who have nothing to eat at all? There's kids out there who have never had a full meal in their entire lives.
Why should I cry cos no one wants to touch me, when there are people out there wishing that the one touching them would stop?
Why should I wish for death when there are so many people praying for life?
Why should I say anything or do anything when it's all one big fucking joke to the rest of humanity?
Nothing's ever going to change the way humanity plays this game and while everyone else is just sitting around accepting it, drowning in their own lives...I'm here. I'm here wanting so much to change it. "You aren't here, I'm here. I'm always here" (Beth, Sharing the Secret).
No one rips out the truth anymore and makes me hurt so much that I feel so alive.
No one pushes me and pushes me until I snap.
No one goads me to kill myself anymore.
And as sick as it sounds, I miss that.
I miss having a physical reason to be this way instead of the shit that goes on inside my head.
Technically, in the physical realm, my life is going better than it has ever gone before.
Unlike at 11-15 when my life was ruined by school and other things, now it's ruined by me and what's inside.
I'm stuck back there at 11 when everyone else has already forgotten what they did to me.
I remember what people said to me and they don't even recognise my face.
I sabotage myself because I'm holding on to the past and I can't let go. I've tried, god I've tried.
But every time I start to move on, it comes back to bite me in the arse again.
It's so haunting and that's how I view the world now - through haunted eyes.
All anyone sees when they look at me is a lazy pudgy kid with a bad attitude and an ugly face.
But it's not me. My body isn't me. My face isn't me. Not even my eyes are me. I'm not in this world anymore. I left years ago. I'm caught between realms. This one, the one where all anyone cares about is money and image, where bankers and celebrities rule the world and where the only way to get anywhere is with an unlimited fistfull of cash.
But that world is becoming more and more ethereal. I'm in a different place now. A place where voices whisper mockingly and claws rake my skin and no one's here to comfort or protect.
It's not a place of my choosing, that's for sure. There's so much here that shouldn't be.
Sometimes when I'm particularly balanced between them, I can barely tell which is which.
Sometimes I can't tell what's real and what's just in my head. It's like when you have to have three groups, side a, side b and then the circles overlap and you have things that are both, in the middle bit.
Well I'm on a swinging pendulum that hangs from the centre section but swings from side a to side b.
Right now I'm swinging further into side b.
The funny thing is, I can't tell which fucking side I hate most.
Maybe I despise the pendulum most.
And here's where all the bullshit about philosophy comes in. What, in this physical realm, is the pendulum?????????
Is it me? Or is it my mother or father? Is is culture? Is it society? Is it my ego?
So many things could be represented by that pendulum...
They say that when you die in your dreams, you really die.
I don't remember ever dreaming to the point of actually dying, so I wouldn't know. But I feel like I'm in a dream now. I feel like there's a very large something missing and that I've got to wake up to find it.
And if being alive right now is the dream and I have to wake up to find out what's missing, then once again relying on logic, I'd say that would make dying a pretty practical solution.
The world has enough psycho babble already, without adding mine to the bullshit frying pan.
The answer is the metaphorical needle...and life is the hay stack.
Sometimes I feel so close to finding the needle, I actually feel the pain of pricking myself on it's tip. And it being the answer to all this shite, it's a VERY painful and vicious prick!!
But then as I go to grab it...it slides under more hay and I have to start all over again.
Repeat. Repeat. REPEAT!
Circles. Cycles. Over and over and over and over.
Round and round.
Well, I gotta say I'm past the point of dizziness. I think it's time to get off the magic roundabout.
I don't know what happens when you jump off. Maybe you disappear forever. Maybe you get put back on in a different place as a different person.
Who knows?
But I do know that I can't spin anymore. If you spin long enough, you collapse. Sometimes you puke first.
Well, if you'll forgive the rather graphic and kind of gross metaphor, I think I've thrown up enough times already and should probably skip right along to the passing out stage.
Every body dies, I'm just jumping the gun.
Why wait? What good will it do? Sooner or later, someone's gonna turn round to me and say "You came too late. She's already dead. You should have gotten here sooner, maybe you could have saved her but it's too late."
And they're gonna look accusingly at me as if I did it deliberately. They're gonna whisper behind the hands with the people next to them and glare and blame.
And you know what? They'd be right to do so.
If I can't do this, what fucking good am I?? If I can't even survive the first 18 years of my life, what the fuck good am I gonna do anyone else?
Third time lucky so they say, and this time, I'm gonna fucking get it right. And if I don't? Well...I'll do what I always do.
I'll convince everyone I'm fine and I'll try again and I'll keep fucking trying until I pull it off because there is only one thing I know for certain and that is that I am NOT supposed to be here.
I don't belong here, this isn't my world, it's not my time, my clock stopped fucking ticking years ago.
I'm not meant for this world. I don't know why I was even born. All I've ever done is make things worse.
I know to anyone reading this it must sound really fucking pathetic.
But that's the beauty of the world we live in. I can say whatever the fuck I want on the inernet and no one can do a damn thing about it.
People slag off the queen of britain and the president of america and get away with it. You can say you're gonna blow up a school or something and no one would do anything because the net is just a monster now that is beyond anyone's control.
No one lifts a finger because it's NOT THEIR PROBLEM!
Why the fuck should they care if some girl the other side of the world is getting raped or some guy in the next town kills himself? Got nothing to do with them, right?
I can rant my fucking heart and soul into this blog...and what does it matter? There are 7 billion people in this world, not a fucking one of them gives a shit what some basket case in a small town in the uk has to say.
This blog is probably read by what...eleven people, if that? Hardly ground breaking. So no matter what I say or do, no matter how hard I try...I'm not gonna change anything.
I'm gonna join a statistic that no one gives a shit about because it's a fucking joke. There was a kiddy stood on the ledge of a building and people down below were TELLING HIM to JUMP!
And I'm supposed to WANT TO LIVE?????????
People say that suicide is the cowards way out. I never said I wasn't a coward. And it's not. Wanting to escape whatever hurt you may be feeling doesn't make you a coward. And it's actually surprisingly difficult to kill yourself.
I'm too tired to rant anymore. I apologise for the length of this post. I wasn't actually intending to write this much, but I sort of lost control.
I'm going to try and get some sleep. I may very well continue this tomorrow.
I don't really care if it gets read or not. Maybe it will and someone will agree with me. Maybe someone will read it and think I'm a pathetic waste of space. Or maybe it won't get read and it'll just stagnate at the bottom of the internet blog pool.
Whatever. I really don't care.
I type these posts because I like typing. I could type it into a word document I suppose, and I'm tempted to do so, but I just like posting on a blog and this is MY blog. If people don't like what I write, don't fucking read my blog.
Want to think I'm pathetic, go ahead. I don't give a shit what people think of me. You don't fucking know me. And anyone who's read this entire blog, if you think just by reading a few rants that makes you an expert on Maggot 13, you're wrong. You'll never know me. Nobody knows me.
I'm ash. Nothing more.
A word from the maggot museum. Today was just one of those days. My life is just one of those lives, I suppose.
It makes me so mad. I think about all the things people go through, all the shit that people have to deal with it, and it just makes me mad. Like...I know that there are so many people out there that have far worse lives than mine, and yet they just accept it. And then there's me.
So...why doesn't everyone want to die? Why doesn't everyone have a burning inside them that eats its way through their existance like maggots through dead flesh.
I mean, we are dead flesh, aren't we? If we've given up, we're dead. We're forfiet. I am. I know that, I have no delusions, not about that.
I would give anything to be free of this existence and the thing that bugs me is I know that somehow I have lived this life before. I've done it all. Everything's just repeating and repeating.
I just had a weird thought. What if I'm not really here, not really this person right now. What if the real me is actually somewhere completely different, locked in a cell somewhere seeing herself as the me I 'am' now. That actually made sense in my head.
So like...I might now even be a woman. Which would make total fucking sense since everyone reckons I should have been born a guy. I mean, I dress like one, I literally do - I buy guy's clothes, they're just more comfortable. I look like one, I act like one, I'm not all like oh my god, my hair (I know not all girls are like that, I'm just using it as an example).
So maybe I'm a guy somewhere, strapped to a table dreaming of this life.
If I am, then I have SERIOUS issues.
But it wouldn't be would it. If I was someone else...I mean it's just something you think about to make yourself feel better I guess, but in the end, no matter what you do, you have to come back to this.
Being a philosopher will drive you crazy, you know. Thinking all those clever little fucking things and knowing that you will NEVER know the truth. You will NEVER be able to prove any of it. You will NEVER KNOW!
You can have all the weirdest and most wonderful theories in the whole damn universe but they'll never mean a fuckng thing.
Like when people ask "Is the cup half empty or half full?" Psychologists ask this to see if you're optimistic or pessimistic. If you say half empty you're the latter, half full, the former.
However this is my reply. "It's circumstantial. If you're tipping it out, it's half empty, if you're filling it up, it's half full."
So am I pessimistic, or optimistic?
Not that it really fucking matters. My mum thinks I'm pessimistic.
But I always say look at it this way. If I convince myself that nothing good's going to happen, and it doesn't then I haven't set myself up for disappointment, but if something good does happen, I'm pleasantly surprised.
IF however, I convince myself that good things are going to happen and they don't, I'd be crushed.
So it's actually better to be pessimistic about things. It's a very logical approach.
Maybe life isn's actually life. I mean, we all assume that because we're 'here' and we have science and all that jazz, that everything's real and living and stuff. What if it's not?
What if we're in some kind of weird dimension that's in someone's head. Maybe the reason we all gravitate towards someone sort of theological belief is because we're actually just figments in someone's consciousness and they're sub conscious pops the thought 'god' into us because he would be our creator...having imagined us.
I'm sorry if this isn't making a lot of sense. It's kind of hard to explain.
Alas, I digress.
What was I talking about?
Ah yes. Life. I know my life isn't as bad as a lot of other people's lives. Someone could look at my life and then look at someone elses and go, bloody hell, maggot, you're living luxury here, quit complaining.
Like...it makes me feel kind of guilty. How I think of dying and freedom when someone else is getting the shit kicked into them by their own dad or something.
But I can't help it. There's horrible, horrible things happening in the world. Terrible things. And they'll never stop. Whether I live or die is irrelevant. The world doesn't revolve around me. It doesn't revolve around any one singular person so if one of us dies because of a series of unfortunate events, it wouldn't bother the world. The world would keep moving as it always does.
So if I die, those horrible things are still going to happen. And if I live, those things are still going to happen.
So what the fuck is the point in any of this shit?
Even if I work my arse off to become some great do-gooder who helps people, there's always going to be someone I can't help, someone I get to too late, or the occasional perosn who doesn't even fucking want my help. What do you do then?
What about those people that you get to too late? My mum keeps saying to me, it's not your job to save the world...
But it is.
But I've already failed. The only way someone can save others is to save themselves first, and I am way beyond saving. The only way you can save others is by having a clean soul, a pure soul...to be uncorrupted.
I'm too angry, too sad, too frustrated.
I've let the chaos in and now it's too late for me.
There are people dying right fucking now man, each second I spend typing on this fucking site, someone's getting the shit beaten out of them. Someone's getting shot, or stabbed and raped. Some arseholes beating a dog with a stick, somen prick is fucking his own daughter, some jerk is shoving an outcast around, thinking it's absolutely fucking hilarious.
There are people dying of diseases, or starvation, soldiers getting blown up, animals getting slaughtered, kids getting beaten up daily.
All this shit is happening every fucking second of every shitty day. And I can't do a fucking thing about it.
I suppose the one thing that makes me a woman, apart from the physical, is my maternal instincts. They are very strong and I think that's what makes me want to hold someone who is hurting close.
I wish I could find the kid who's just been beaten up so that I can help them up, find the guy who's hurting himself because his parents hate him so that I can tell him he's not worthless, find the girl who's just been raped so that I can tell her there are people in this world that actually love her for her rather than her tits.
But I can't. It's happening all over the world and I have zilch fucking power and THAT is why I can't stand it.
I can't stand it because I'm the one that's worthless. I can't stand it because I'm the one who's hated. I can't stand it because I CAN'T help.
Why should I eat tonnes and get hideously fat when there are kids out there who have nothing to eat at all? There's kids out there who have never had a full meal in their entire lives.
Why should I cry cos no one wants to touch me, when there are people out there wishing that the one touching them would stop?
Why should I wish for death when there are so many people praying for life?
Why should I say anything or do anything when it's all one big fucking joke to the rest of humanity?
Nothing's ever going to change the way humanity plays this game and while everyone else is just sitting around accepting it, drowning in their own lives...I'm here. I'm here wanting so much to change it. "You aren't here, I'm here. I'm always here" (Beth, Sharing the Secret).
No one rips out the truth anymore and makes me hurt so much that I feel so alive.
No one pushes me and pushes me until I snap.
No one goads me to kill myself anymore.
And as sick as it sounds, I miss that.
I miss having a physical reason to be this way instead of the shit that goes on inside my head.
Technically, in the physical realm, my life is going better than it has ever gone before.
Unlike at 11-15 when my life was ruined by school and other things, now it's ruined by me and what's inside.
I'm stuck back there at 11 when everyone else has already forgotten what they did to me.
I remember what people said to me and they don't even recognise my face.
I sabotage myself because I'm holding on to the past and I can't let go. I've tried, god I've tried.
But every time I start to move on, it comes back to bite me in the arse again.
It's so haunting and that's how I view the world now - through haunted eyes.
All anyone sees when they look at me is a lazy pudgy kid with a bad attitude and an ugly face.
But it's not me. My body isn't me. My face isn't me. Not even my eyes are me. I'm not in this world anymore. I left years ago. I'm caught between realms. This one, the one where all anyone cares about is money and image, where bankers and celebrities rule the world and where the only way to get anywhere is with an unlimited fistfull of cash.
But that world is becoming more and more ethereal. I'm in a different place now. A place where voices whisper mockingly and claws rake my skin and no one's here to comfort or protect.
It's not a place of my choosing, that's for sure. There's so much here that shouldn't be.
Sometimes when I'm particularly balanced between them, I can barely tell which is which.
Sometimes I can't tell what's real and what's just in my head. It's like when you have to have three groups, side a, side b and then the circles overlap and you have things that are both, in the middle bit.
Well I'm on a swinging pendulum that hangs from the centre section but swings from side a to side b.
Right now I'm swinging further into side b.
The funny thing is, I can't tell which fucking side I hate most.
Maybe I despise the pendulum most.
And here's where all the bullshit about philosophy comes in. What, in this physical realm, is the pendulum?????????
Is it me? Or is it my mother or father? Is is culture? Is it society? Is it my ego?
So many things could be represented by that pendulum...
They say that when you die in your dreams, you really die.
I don't remember ever dreaming to the point of actually dying, so I wouldn't know. But I feel like I'm in a dream now. I feel like there's a very large something missing and that I've got to wake up to find it.
And if being alive right now is the dream and I have to wake up to find out what's missing, then once again relying on logic, I'd say that would make dying a pretty practical solution.
The world has enough psycho babble already, without adding mine to the bullshit frying pan.
The answer is the metaphorical needle...and life is the hay stack.
Sometimes I feel so close to finding the needle, I actually feel the pain of pricking myself on it's tip. And it being the answer to all this shite, it's a VERY painful and vicious prick!!
But then as I go to grab it...it slides under more hay and I have to start all over again.
Repeat. Repeat. REPEAT!
Circles. Cycles. Over and over and over and over.
Round and round.
Well, I gotta say I'm past the point of dizziness. I think it's time to get off the magic roundabout.
I don't know what happens when you jump off. Maybe you disappear forever. Maybe you get put back on in a different place as a different person.
Who knows?
But I do know that I can't spin anymore. If you spin long enough, you collapse. Sometimes you puke first.
Well, if you'll forgive the rather graphic and kind of gross metaphor, I think I've thrown up enough times already and should probably skip right along to the passing out stage.
Every body dies, I'm just jumping the gun.
Why wait? What good will it do? Sooner or later, someone's gonna turn round to me and say "You came too late. She's already dead. You should have gotten here sooner, maybe you could have saved her but it's too late."
And they're gonna look accusingly at me as if I did it deliberately. They're gonna whisper behind the hands with the people next to them and glare and blame.
And you know what? They'd be right to do so.
If I can't do this, what fucking good am I?? If I can't even survive the first 18 years of my life, what the fuck good am I gonna do anyone else?
Third time lucky so they say, and this time, I'm gonna fucking get it right. And if I don't? Well...I'll do what I always do.
I'll convince everyone I'm fine and I'll try again and I'll keep fucking trying until I pull it off because there is only one thing I know for certain and that is that I am NOT supposed to be here.
I don't belong here, this isn't my world, it's not my time, my clock stopped fucking ticking years ago.
I'm not meant for this world. I don't know why I was even born. All I've ever done is make things worse.
I know to anyone reading this it must sound really fucking pathetic.
But that's the beauty of the world we live in. I can say whatever the fuck I want on the inernet and no one can do a damn thing about it.
People slag off the queen of britain and the president of america and get away with it. You can say you're gonna blow up a school or something and no one would do anything because the net is just a monster now that is beyond anyone's control.
No one lifts a finger because it's NOT THEIR PROBLEM!
Why the fuck should they care if some girl the other side of the world is getting raped or some guy in the next town kills himself? Got nothing to do with them, right?
I can rant my fucking heart and soul into this blog...and what does it matter? There are 7 billion people in this world, not a fucking one of them gives a shit what some basket case in a small town in the uk has to say.
This blog is probably read by what...eleven people, if that? Hardly ground breaking. So no matter what I say or do, no matter how hard I try...I'm not gonna change anything.
I'm gonna join a statistic that no one gives a shit about because it's a fucking joke. There was a kiddy stood on the ledge of a building and people down below were TELLING HIM to JUMP!
And I'm supposed to WANT TO LIVE?????????
People say that suicide is the cowards way out. I never said I wasn't a coward. And it's not. Wanting to escape whatever hurt you may be feeling doesn't make you a coward. And it's actually surprisingly difficult to kill yourself.
I'm too tired to rant anymore. I apologise for the length of this post. I wasn't actually intending to write this much, but I sort of lost control.
I'm going to try and get some sleep. I may very well continue this tomorrow.
I don't really care if it gets read or not. Maybe it will and someone will agree with me. Maybe someone will read it and think I'm a pathetic waste of space. Or maybe it won't get read and it'll just stagnate at the bottom of the internet blog pool.
Whatever. I really don't care.
I type these posts because I like typing. I could type it into a word document I suppose, and I'm tempted to do so, but I just like posting on a blog and this is MY blog. If people don't like what I write, don't fucking read my blog.
Want to think I'm pathetic, go ahead. I don't give a shit what people think of me. You don't fucking know me. And anyone who's read this entire blog, if you think just by reading a few rants that makes you an expert on Maggot 13, you're wrong. You'll never know me. Nobody knows me.
I'm ash. Nothing more.
Friday, 22 January 2010
disgusting binge
I failed miserably and binged. Horribly.
I feel so fat and disgusting.
I wish I could just carve all this fat away.
I want to cry.
I'm so disgusting.
I hope people are doing better than me right now.
xx
I feel so fat and disgusting.
I wish I could just carve all this fat away.
I want to cry.
I'm so disgusting.
I hope people are doing better than me right now.
xx
Thursday, 21 January 2010
bastards
ok... so that email I got that I said about...
They want a load of money to send my supposed winnings to me. Pricks.
Like I'm stupid enough to do that, even if I had the amount they wanted.
People like that piss me off so much. They're basically fucking toying with people's dreams and desires.
Like they care if they actually hurt anyone.
Arseholes.
I hate people so much.
I hope those fuckers die...painfully.
They want a load of money to send my supposed winnings to me. Pricks.
Like I'm stupid enough to do that, even if I had the amount they wanted.
People like that piss me off so much. They're basically fucking toying with people's dreams and desires.
Like they care if they actually hurt anyone.
Arseholes.
I hate people so much.
I hope those fuckers die...painfully.
Wednesday, 20 January 2010
ABCD
Greetings
So I was going through my folderson my computer and I stumbled over the word document that had the ABC Diet on it.
I've had 155 cals so far today, so I decided, heck since I'm going so well, I'd try and stick to the diet.
So day one, I'm allowed 500 Cals. So I have 345 left.
Well, actually I'm being naughty and eating bourbons so I actually have...219 left.
So, here's to the ABCD.
xx
So I was going through my folderson my computer and I stumbled over the word document that had the ABC Diet on it.
I've had 155 cals so far today, so I decided, heck since I'm going so well, I'd try and stick to the diet.
So day one, I'm allowed 500 Cals. So I have 345 left.
Well, actually I'm being naughty and eating bourbons so I actually have...219 left.
So, here's to the ABCD.
xx
When it seems too good to be true...
... apparently it usually is.
But this seems legit.
I got an email the other day from the UK National Lottery saying I had won some moeny and I had to fill in some details. None of them looked like they'd do any harm in case it was just some con prick, so I fills it in, and I got an email today saying that it was confirmed and that they'd send me a cheque. So now I just have to wait and see if this is actually real.
Be fucking awesome if it is.
But I'm not gonna get my hopes up. This kind of stuff doesn't happen to people like me.
Fingers crossed though.
xXx
But this seems legit.
I got an email the other day from the UK National Lottery saying I had won some moeny and I had to fill in some details. None of them looked like they'd do any harm in case it was just some con prick, so I fills it in, and I got an email today saying that it was confirmed and that they'd send me a cheque. So now I just have to wait and see if this is actually real.
Be fucking awesome if it is.
But I'm not gonna get my hopes up. This kind of stuff doesn't happen to people like me.
Fingers crossed though.
xXx
Tuesday, 19 January 2010
Proud
Greetings and salutations.
I've just got back from work and I gotta say, I'm pretty proud of myself because when they offered me food, usually I give in, but not today. They asked me if I wanted anything, I said no, there were cookies left over and my boss asked me if I wanted any, I said no.
That's a huge step for me.
You know...there's something about burning that's just so enchanting. Maybe if you do it often enough you could get lost in the flames so that you barely notice the heat kissing your skin.
Cigarettes can kiss you
Razors caress you
Pills transport you
whatever compells you
you can get through
all you have to do
is trust in pain
xXx
I've just got back from work and I gotta say, I'm pretty proud of myself because when they offered me food, usually I give in, but not today. They asked me if I wanted anything, I said no, there were cookies left over and my boss asked me if I wanted any, I said no.
That's a huge step for me.
You know...there's something about burning that's just so enchanting. Maybe if you do it often enough you could get lost in the flames so that you barely notice the heat kissing your skin.
Cigarettes can kiss you
Razors caress you
Pills transport you
whatever compells you
you can get through
all you have to do
is trust in pain
xXx
She's not the mesaih, She's a very naughty girl!
I know it's supposed to be he, I have actually seen it.
I customised it because I've been a very naughty girl. Not only did I do something last night that I'm not supposed to do anymore because I'm all better, but I stole some of my dad's Jack Daniel's. I know alcohol has calories but...
It's just til I get paid, then I can buy my own alcohol. It's not that I'm an alkie or anything, it's just that...well, it's about that rush you get from doing something you know you're not supposed to do. Same rush that made me steal when I was little. I don't steal anymore. I know that's stupid to say since I just stole my dads drink but...he isn't really drinking it.
Besides..if you want to self-destruct, alcohol has to be in there somewhere. Luckily for me, it takes A LOT of alcohol to make me even tipsy let alone drunk. I say that's a luckily because I don't want to drown my sorrows in booze, I want to enhance them. I want to enhance everything so that until I can finally cop it, I actually FEEL like there's something left inside me.
Like...I'm alive for a little while. When I feel pain or fear, it's actually something I feel, and it gets me high...which means I want it.
Yeah, I admit it, I'm a masochist, I like pain, okay, big fucking deal!
Maybe it's because it makes my heart beat so fast...it really pounds, you know? Maybe that's why last time I went to cop it, and I ended up throwing up, a part of me actually enjoyed it.
The part I didn't enjoy was that I happened to be throwing up in the middle of town and everyone kept staring at me. Like I could help it.
But...it made me feel better. I got a rush out of that. But...I haven't been able to make myself throw up since. I have a stupidly strong stomach!
I don't know if anyone else feels the way I do. I'm writing a film at the moment, called "The Masochists", and it's about this group calling themselves The Masochists and they meet up to hurt themselves. It was founded by Kane, who just wants to make sure that they can get their love of pain out in a safe environment. Cos he watches out for everyone.
I don't think I'll ever get that produced though so I might write it as a book instead. I know it sounds like a mind fuck and to be totally honest, it might well be...but it's making me feel a tonne better.
I'm just kind of rambling now, sorry.
That's my update for today.
Monday, 18 January 2010
Retch
Long story cut very short - so short I'm not actually gonna bother explaining the title.
Isn't this blog site great?
You can totally just rant your fucking arse off about whatever the fuck is pissing you off and no one cares! It's fan-fucking-tastic! Like if someone's pissing you off so you can't rant because you don't want them to get even bitchier at you, you can take a load off on here and leave it at that. Just to get it out of you. And then if you're really lucky, you have a few people here to cheer you up.
I can't stop thinking about 2:37 but that always happens when I see a film that's wowed me.
Alice in Wonderland is coming out soon and I'm taking two of my sisters, my best friend, her friend from college (who's a gay crossdreser, he's fantastic) and my mother...which I'm fine with but we're going to Pizza Hut :(
I could probably get away with a small salad...maybe.
Oh fuck...they know I always have salted popcorn when I go to the cinima...what's the calorie count in that?
You know, I might stop writing on here...
It's said that if you bottle things up you explode worse than if you let it out.
I wanna explode in such a way that people won't be able to make a fucking joke out of it, but they probably will because that's what people are like, they're more fucking sick than I am.
But whatever man. No one listens to stupid fucking psycho's anyway. It doesn't matter if you hurt yourself, only if you hurt other people. That's okay though, I prefer to feel the pain myself.
Isn't this blog site great?
You can totally just rant your fucking arse off about whatever the fuck is pissing you off and no one cares! It's fan-fucking-tastic! Like if someone's pissing you off so you can't rant because you don't want them to get even bitchier at you, you can take a load off on here and leave it at that. Just to get it out of you. And then if you're really lucky, you have a few people here to cheer you up.
I can't stop thinking about 2:37 but that always happens when I see a film that's wowed me.
Alice in Wonderland is coming out soon and I'm taking two of my sisters, my best friend, her friend from college (who's a gay crossdreser, he's fantastic) and my mother...which I'm fine with but we're going to Pizza Hut :(
I could probably get away with a small salad...maybe.
Oh fuck...they know I always have salted popcorn when I go to the cinima...what's the calorie count in that?
You know, I might stop writing on here...
It's said that if you bottle things up you explode worse than if you let it out.
I wanna explode in such a way that people won't be able to make a fucking joke out of it, but they probably will because that's what people are like, they're more fucking sick than I am.
But whatever man. No one listens to stupid fucking psycho's anyway. It doesn't matter if you hurt yourself, only if you hurt other people. That's okay though, I prefer to feel the pain myself.
Sunday, 17 January 2010
22:44
Greetings and salutations from the land of grotesque.
The time is quarter to eleven, hence the title. I just watched an australian film called 2:37. It was very, very, VERY good.
Blunt, crude and fucked up, but good.
Basically, it's about this group of students and they all have some sort of shit going on in their life, and my favourite character is this gay outcast called Sean, but anyway, at the beginning you figure out that someone's killed themselves so all the way through it, you're seeing all the shit in these people's lives and you're like ok so who did it? (and if you're anything like me, praying it wasn't Sean,). ANd then you find out who it was. I'm not telling you. Go watch it.
It's not suitable for uh...sensitive viewers. As someone who has a problem with anything to do with sex, I found two scenes particularly hard, but there are other things, like you know one of the girls is bulimic, and obviously the whole suicide thing.
But if you're okay watching stuff like that, watch it. It was good, so good that as soon as I finished I went on amazon and added it to my wish list for when I get paid.
It is a little button-pushing if you get what I mean, so you should only watch it if you're way too happy with life.
I figured something out. I'm not going to say exactly what I figured out, because there are some things you just keep to yourself...but I'm happy that I've figured it out.
It'll make everything so much easier. For everyone.
Even though no one here knows who I am, at least not that I know, even though I could write everything that enters my head...you can't reveal your darkest secrets, not on the internet...
There's some things you wouldn't even say to your closest friend, let alone plaster all over the www.
Things you keep to yourself. That you keep hidden in the darkest, deepest pits inside your soul. And it grows, it spawns into this demon that eats away at you from the inside.
It's poison weakens you day in, day out and no matter what you do, nothing will satisfy it's hunger.
Life in general has a way of making you tired...life loses it's novelty.
You just get sick of everything. The stupidist fucking thing and you're sick.
You can go for months thinking that you're okay, because there's nothing going wrong, everything's getting better.
But you've already had the disease, the demon is still there, and it WILL come back to haunt you because it won't be satisfied until it's fucked you over big time.
So you've gone months thinking you have everything under control and then RIP!. It tears the fabric of your sanity over nothing at all. Nothing's happened but you've heard the rip, you've felt it in every little microcosm in your body. I don't know if you have microcosms in your body, but whatever the tiniest thing in your body is. Every single one feels it.
After that, there's no reasoning with your demon. Take the line from 'Girl, Interrupted', "You like the movie, you live; you miss the train, you kill yourself".
Self-harm is your heroin, starvation is your grlorious feast, insomnia your bed companion.
All this and you're addicted to it. Nothing anyone says will have any meaning and you'll find yourself hating it all. You hate everyone and everything and the frustration inside builds and builds.
You're a ticking bomb. A ticking bomb with a very, VERY short fuse.
Each time you snap and fail, the fuse starts again.
But you always snap.
Always. It's only a matter of time and as the minutes tick by into hours, time's starting to run out.
The time is quarter to eleven, hence the title. I just watched an australian film called 2:37. It was very, very, VERY good.
Blunt, crude and fucked up, but good.
Basically, it's about this group of students and they all have some sort of shit going on in their life, and my favourite character is this gay outcast called Sean, but anyway, at the beginning you figure out that someone's killed themselves so all the way through it, you're seeing all the shit in these people's lives and you're like ok so who did it? (and if you're anything like me, praying it wasn't Sean,). ANd then you find out who it was. I'm not telling you. Go watch it.
It's not suitable for uh...sensitive viewers. As someone who has a problem with anything to do with sex, I found two scenes particularly hard, but there are other things, like you know one of the girls is bulimic, and obviously the whole suicide thing.
But if you're okay watching stuff like that, watch it. It was good, so good that as soon as I finished I went on amazon and added it to my wish list for when I get paid.
It is a little button-pushing if you get what I mean, so you should only watch it if you're way too happy with life.
I figured something out. I'm not going to say exactly what I figured out, because there are some things you just keep to yourself...but I'm happy that I've figured it out.
It'll make everything so much easier. For everyone.
Even though no one here knows who I am, at least not that I know, even though I could write everything that enters my head...you can't reveal your darkest secrets, not on the internet...
There's some things you wouldn't even say to your closest friend, let alone plaster all over the www.
Things you keep to yourself. That you keep hidden in the darkest, deepest pits inside your soul. And it grows, it spawns into this demon that eats away at you from the inside.
It's poison weakens you day in, day out and no matter what you do, nothing will satisfy it's hunger.
Life in general has a way of making you tired...life loses it's novelty.
You just get sick of everything. The stupidist fucking thing and you're sick.
You can go for months thinking that you're okay, because there's nothing going wrong, everything's getting better.
But you've already had the disease, the demon is still there, and it WILL come back to haunt you because it won't be satisfied until it's fucked you over big time.
So you've gone months thinking you have everything under control and then RIP!. It tears the fabric of your sanity over nothing at all. Nothing's happened but you've heard the rip, you've felt it in every little microcosm in your body. I don't know if you have microcosms in your body, but whatever the tiniest thing in your body is. Every single one feels it.
After that, there's no reasoning with your demon. Take the line from 'Girl, Interrupted', "You like the movie, you live; you miss the train, you kill yourself".
Self-harm is your heroin, starvation is your grlorious feast, insomnia your bed companion.
All this and you're addicted to it. Nothing anyone says will have any meaning and you'll find yourself hating it all. You hate everyone and everything and the frustration inside builds and builds.
You're a ticking bomb. A ticking bomb with a very, VERY short fuse.
Each time you snap and fail, the fuse starts again.
But you always snap.
Always. It's only a matter of time and as the minutes tick by into hours, time's starting to run out.
Regrets and shame
People say that you should regret things. Jim root, one of the guitarists from Slipknot, he said that regrets just lead to more mental problems and that you'll always make mistakes.
But how are you supposed to live with it?
I could die from shame right now if it was possible. All the things I could have done differently.
The biggest one happened a few years ago. Depression and mental instability runs in my family. My eldest sister was severely depressed and kept trying to kill herself so my mum locked all the medicine in a box and kept the key on her wallet. So my sister waited until my mum was in the bath and my dad was out with my second eldest sister, so there was only me and the third daughter in her way.
So she got a kitchen knife, the really big ones they use on cooking shows to slice onions really fast...anyway she got that and came in the living room and pointed it at us and told us to open the box.
My other sister, she was like no, wave the knife all you want, I ain't doin it.
But me, I was pathetic. I was terrified. Though I didn't cry, I did open the box. She grabbed a bottle of medicine and legged it out the house so us two legged it up to tell mum, who phoned the police.
I'm not even sure if my sister would have actually hurt us. She was pretty unstable at the time and she did some seriously stupid things.
Either way, I was a coward. She took the medicine and the police caught her and took her to hospital.
If she had died, it would have been on my head! I was so fucking pathetic. If I could do it over, I would tell her to screw herself. But at the time I hadn't reached the point where I don't particularly give a shit what happens to me. I didn't really feel like getting stabbed by my own sister. Like I said, I have no idea if she'd have actually done it but at the time I didn't know.
Stupid cow. What's a little stab wound for the life of your sister? As it happens she didn't die, but that's not the point. The point is that if she had died, it would be my fault.
I'm so ashamed of that.
How am I supposed to just forget it? I can't and I won't.
....
On the lighter side of life, I finally got an answer from Hope about our relationship. Might not have been the one I wanted, but it was a good one none the less.
She said she's definitely straight, but that our friendship was more importantto her anyway,and that we could still go on 'dates' and cuddle and stuff, but she wouldn't go further, which is fine cos neither would I, and the 'further' bit is the only thing that would really make us that kind of girlfriends.
I'm just happy to have her in my life, in whatever way. So long as she's happy, it's all good.
...
On the food side of things...gah! All the weight I lost the last time I got serious, I've put back on. So I am now once again 151 ish lbs. Which is disgusting I know. At least, it's disgusting in my case. You know, some people look good with a bit of meat to them, but they're all toned up and everything. Me, I'm just...grotesque.
I can't believe I actually convinced myself that I was fine how I am. I'm not, I'm hideous.
When I get paid next, I'm going to get some cigarettes, some alcohol (probably captain morgans), some diet coke and some diet pills.
Oh yeah, and I'm going to order 'Sharing the Secret' from Amazon and possibly the book 'Wasted' too.
If I can afford it...gotta get a new phone and I'm going out with Hope.
That's it for now.
But how are you supposed to live with it?
I could die from shame right now if it was possible. All the things I could have done differently.
The biggest one happened a few years ago. Depression and mental instability runs in my family. My eldest sister was severely depressed and kept trying to kill herself so my mum locked all the medicine in a box and kept the key on her wallet. So my sister waited until my mum was in the bath and my dad was out with my second eldest sister, so there was only me and the third daughter in her way.
So she got a kitchen knife, the really big ones they use on cooking shows to slice onions really fast...anyway she got that and came in the living room and pointed it at us and told us to open the box.
My other sister, she was like no, wave the knife all you want, I ain't doin it.
But me, I was pathetic. I was terrified. Though I didn't cry, I did open the box. She grabbed a bottle of medicine and legged it out the house so us two legged it up to tell mum, who phoned the police.
I'm not even sure if my sister would have actually hurt us. She was pretty unstable at the time and she did some seriously stupid things.
Either way, I was a coward. She took the medicine and the police caught her and took her to hospital.
If she had died, it would have been on my head! I was so fucking pathetic. If I could do it over, I would tell her to screw herself. But at the time I hadn't reached the point where I don't particularly give a shit what happens to me. I didn't really feel like getting stabbed by my own sister. Like I said, I have no idea if she'd have actually done it but at the time I didn't know.
Stupid cow. What's a little stab wound for the life of your sister? As it happens she didn't die, but that's not the point. The point is that if she had died, it would be my fault.
I'm so ashamed of that.
How am I supposed to just forget it? I can't and I won't.
....
On the lighter side of life, I finally got an answer from Hope about our relationship. Might not have been the one I wanted, but it was a good one none the less.
She said she's definitely straight, but that our friendship was more importantto her anyway,and that we could still go on 'dates' and cuddle and stuff, but she wouldn't go further, which is fine cos neither would I, and the 'further' bit is the only thing that would really make us that kind of girlfriends.
I'm just happy to have her in my life, in whatever way. So long as she's happy, it's all good.
...
On the food side of things...gah! All the weight I lost the last time I got serious, I've put back on. So I am now once again 151 ish lbs. Which is disgusting I know. At least, it's disgusting in my case. You know, some people look good with a bit of meat to them, but they're all toned up and everything. Me, I'm just...grotesque.
I can't believe I actually convinced myself that I was fine how I am. I'm not, I'm hideous.
When I get paid next, I'm going to get some cigarettes, some alcohol (probably captain morgans), some diet coke and some diet pills.
Oh yeah, and I'm going to order 'Sharing the Secret' from Amazon and possibly the book 'Wasted' too.
If I can afford it...gotta get a new phone and I'm going out with Hope.
That's it for now.
Saturday, 16 January 2010
Old habits die hard
So... I'm slowly sinking back to my old way of thinking.
Today, while I was at work, I was sat down having a break and I caught sight of myself in the window. I felt physically sick. I always feel sick when I see myself. I've been eating weirdly since christmas, but I've been eating.
I think I should cut right back, just eat to keep breathing, at least until the opertune moment as Captain Jack Sparrow would say.
I need to start getting more exercise. Mum said we'd start doing badminton again some time soon. I love badminton.
So, does anyone remember me saying about my best friend Hope, who I am in love with, and how we were experimenting to see if she was bi and we could be girlfriends?
Well we discussed it last night, and she said she was definitely straight and that she loved me but as a friend.
Obviously I'm sad, but I'm not heartbroken. So long as she's in my life someway or another, then I'm happy.
Ok, I've updated on relationship, and I've updated on eating, what else is there to update on?
Um...I'm failing miserably at college. It's so fucking boring. I hate it.
I think that after Uni would be the opertune moment to kick off. I'm holding it in as best as I can right now, but I know I'm gonna snap again, and if I can just hold out until I'm done with the shite excuse for education, then I won't have to spend years learning what I should have been learning when I snapped, if that makes sense. It makes sense to me.
Of course, alot of what I say makes no sense to anyone else but perfect sense to me.
I've decided I'm just gonna give up on religion. I know there's something more up there somewhere, but whatever it is, it'll just have to accept the fact that I'm a fucked up psycho mistake.
I should never have been born at all, I'm an evil masochist.
The psychotic martyr who's end justifies the means, and the genius rotting inside shrivels each time I know I'm failing. I know it's arrogant but I don't give a shit anymore. I know I ain't smart enough to call myself a genius but everyone has the potential to be one, hence why mine's rotting.
THe most agonising thing about not being a genius, is that I know that if I was, I'd still be crazy and cos I'm not, I'm crazy, I know I'm not trying hard enough.
There's a fine line between genius and madness, according to Bill Bailey and it makes me wonder, which side of the line am I?
Apparently, crazy people see themselves as geniuses because they can't handle the fact that they're actually pathetic nobodies who are just generally unimportant.
I don't really know what else to write.
I guess I may very well be writing more posts. I've been off of writing on here for a while because stupidly I thought I was actually normal.
Now I realise that I'm just not meant for this world, I'll never be normal. I never was, am not, never will be.
Simple as.
And the time will come where I have to go. And I'm looking forward to it. It'll be the finest point in my life.
When people realise that I really meant what I said.
Today, while I was at work, I was sat down having a break and I caught sight of myself in the window. I felt physically sick. I always feel sick when I see myself. I've been eating weirdly since christmas, but I've been eating.
I think I should cut right back, just eat to keep breathing, at least until the opertune moment as Captain Jack Sparrow would say.
I need to start getting more exercise. Mum said we'd start doing badminton again some time soon. I love badminton.
So, does anyone remember me saying about my best friend Hope, who I am in love with, and how we were experimenting to see if she was bi and we could be girlfriends?
Well we discussed it last night, and she said she was definitely straight and that she loved me but as a friend.
Obviously I'm sad, but I'm not heartbroken. So long as she's in my life someway or another, then I'm happy.
Ok, I've updated on relationship, and I've updated on eating, what else is there to update on?
Um...I'm failing miserably at college. It's so fucking boring. I hate it.
I think that after Uni would be the opertune moment to kick off. I'm holding it in as best as I can right now, but I know I'm gonna snap again, and if I can just hold out until I'm done with the shite excuse for education, then I won't have to spend years learning what I should have been learning when I snapped, if that makes sense. It makes sense to me.
Of course, alot of what I say makes no sense to anyone else but perfect sense to me.
I've decided I'm just gonna give up on religion. I know there's something more up there somewhere, but whatever it is, it'll just have to accept the fact that I'm a fucked up psycho mistake.
I should never have been born at all, I'm an evil masochist.
The psychotic martyr who's end justifies the means, and the genius rotting inside shrivels each time I know I'm failing. I know it's arrogant but I don't give a shit anymore. I know I ain't smart enough to call myself a genius but everyone has the potential to be one, hence why mine's rotting.
THe most agonising thing about not being a genius, is that I know that if I was, I'd still be crazy and cos I'm not, I'm crazy, I know I'm not trying hard enough.
There's a fine line between genius and madness, according to Bill Bailey and it makes me wonder, which side of the line am I?
Apparently, crazy people see themselves as geniuses because they can't handle the fact that they're actually pathetic nobodies who are just generally unimportant.
I don't really know what else to write.
I guess I may very well be writing more posts. I've been off of writing on here for a while because stupidly I thought I was actually normal.
Now I realise that I'm just not meant for this world, I'll never be normal. I never was, am not, never will be.
Simple as.
And the time will come where I have to go. And I'm looking forward to it. It'll be the finest point in my life.
When people realise that I really meant what I said.
Friday, 8 January 2010
Die hard
I don't mean the film.
I have 'mother's ghost' by stone sour on repeat. It's a beatiful song.
One of my rats has a bad foot so I have to take him to the vet. He isn't going to like that.
I know that one day, he and the other two will die. It's the inevitable fate of all living things, the only thing dead certain if you'll pardon the pun, is death.
It makes me wonder you know, it really makes me fucking wonder, what the fuck is the point in any of it???
We know we're gonna die. We know everyone we love, our best friends, our mothers, our fathers, our lovers, they're all gonna die and you have to just sit there and accept that it's a part of life.
So why love. You know the saying 'better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all', it's bollocks.
Loving just makes it hurt more.
You can choose to love, or you can choose not to, either way you loose. If you love, you have the pain of loosing whoever you love, which is inevitable, whether they leave you then die, or just plain die, they're still gonna go.
And if you choose not to love...well then there's the agony of loneliness.
If I had a choice, I think i'd actually choose to be alone.
But then if I had a choice, I wouldn't be here.
I am the face of self loathing
I am the face of despise
I am the face of self hatred
Despair's all that's seen through these eyes
I am the inevitable madness
My fingers creep deep through your minds
I am the one with the iron grip
Mine is the fear that grinds
No one's beyond my reach
My terrible power's complete
Mine is the voice that will shatter
Your quivering flesh I will eat
For I am the one that devours
I harbour a taste for the lost,
the wretched, the lonely, the wounded
My soul regards no cost
I am the face of solitude
I am the ghost of the night
I am the one that can't be touched
no arms can hold me tight
I am the loveless unlovable
The massochist ambassador of pain
I am the tears of the forsaken
I am the guilt and the shame
I am the death of the hopeless
I am the cries of the torn
I am the guardian of lost souls
The monster mistake still-born
I am the nameless, the cruel
I am the sinner, the sin
I am the wish for freedom
I am one never let in
So listen in the dark
and sometimes hear me scream
but never try to find me
I'm merely the memory of a bad dream
..........
Thursday, 7 January 2010
The curse of an imagination
It's the 7th of January and I haven't even been to college yet. It's snowed here so college was cancelled yesterday and today.
I'm eating relatively normal - For me, eating relatively normal means eating when I think about it. So sometimes I'll eat alot because I'm bored and all I think about is eating...or sometimes I won't eat until my stomach starts hurting because I just won't think of it because I'm busy doing something else.
My college courses are boring the hell out of me. As soon as my sister picks me up a prospectus, I'm signing up for a different course for Creative and MEdia...whether I'll get in on level 2 or level 3, I don't know, it depends on what grades I get for the ones I'm doing now.
I'll be lucky if I pass at all.
I go back to work on sunday. The only reason I'm looking forward to it is work means money and money I need at the moment - unfortunately. If I have the money to, I'd probably never leave the house.
I'm finished with malborough house, I've once again convinced everyone that I'm perfectly happy and sane.
THat's not a complete lie I suppose. I am bordering on happy...I've never been sane so that doesn't really count.
Now I guess I suppose I should explain the title of today's blog post.
I'm a writer. I'm not published or anything, it's just my natural...I guess you could call it talent although my stories are definitely nothing special.
THe story I'm working on at the moment I've been working on...on and off for the last seven years at least. It's a very involved story lol.
But it makes me sad. I've created this world and all these characters. And I mean fully created this world. There are kingdoms and cities and seas and a world history and everything. Details on everything. It's getting to be as involved and detailed as JRR TOlkeins Lord of the rings, though I'm a ways off getting it up to his standard. I'll never be as good as Tolkein but that's not what's upsetting me about it.
The point is, you can create this world in as much detail as you want, but you can never be part of it.
You can create characters and make them act however you want, but you'll never meet them. You grow attached to the world, start to love the characters...but sooner or later you have to come back to reality and accept the fact that you live in this world, not the one in your head.
Make no mistake, if there was some way I could transport myself to the world I've written about, I would go in a heartbeat.
I believe that somewhere is a dimension of 'belief'. That is, there's a dimension that's filled with whatever you imagine, kind of like in never ending story.
Maybe I even lived on my created world in a past life and I can write about it now because it's like a distant memory.
I mean, I don't know if any of you ever get this, but sometimes when I write, I get to a bit that just clicks, and it just feels like I didn't even come up with it, y'know. It's like I already knew it ages ago.
It's kind of hard to explain.
But it makes me so sad that I have to come back and live in this world. I've probably said before, I hate this world. And I've never felt as though I actually belong here, never, even as a child.
In the last 18 years I can't rememeber a time where I ever felt at home, there's never been a sense of belonging that I've read about.
The only reason I'm not trying to kill myself again is because I believe everything happens for a reason. I have some sort of purpose to perform on this world.
You see, it's all to do with energy. There is a natural balance to the universe that I'm sure you know about; hot, cold, light, dark, good, bad, night,day, etc etc etc.
Connecting all of these is energy. Everything done and thought and said, all of it, it all creates an energy. When you die, there's no way you just simply die and that's the end. Death is just a transference of energy. You were human energy, your human body dies, you rejoin the energy of the universe and it starts again, though not necessarily as a human on earth.
Anyway, whatever, explaining what I believe has nothing to do with it.
When I've done what I'm here to do, I think I'm going to know it, and I think then I'm supposed to kill myself. I don't know why, but the only way I can see myself dying is by my own hand.
Besides, if I kill myself, it's down to me how I do it. Not because some pyscho decided to shoot me, not because I got blown up by some suicide bomber who's beliefs I do not share, not because I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Suicide may be seen as the cowards way out, but I never claimed I wasn't a coward and it feels right to me.
I can't imagine myself ten years from now. I just can't do it. I certainly can't see myself in my dream job.
And I'm not sure I'd even want to have my dream job. I can't see myself ever being truly happy. No one's ever truly happy.
Everyone has their own way of coping with the fact that our world of so called civilisation is going down the drain. I hate todays world. I hate guns, I hate cars, I hate industry, and I hate technology. I mean, yes, I have a computer, but that's because most things happen on the computer now.
I even hate modern medicine to a certain degree. It goes against Nature to make a woman who's sterile pregnant. She was obviously not meant to have a child. I'm sorry for those who want children but can't have them, I truly am. I might be that way myself. But fertility treatment is another of mankinds stupid ploys to play god.
I can't even begin to explain how much I despise this reality. I despise this world and most things in it and I would do anything to be somewhere else.
My way of dealing with this is writing stories. I get so wrapped up in what I'm writing that I go for hours without stopping and for a little while I forget that I'm not there.
And then something happens, I'll need a pee or my mum will call me or something like that... and it all shatters.
I'm bordering on madness day in, day out. It's a terrible feeling.
You can create a world in as much detail as you want...
...but you'll never be part of it.
I'm eating relatively normal - For me, eating relatively normal means eating when I think about it. So sometimes I'll eat alot because I'm bored and all I think about is eating...or sometimes I won't eat until my stomach starts hurting because I just won't think of it because I'm busy doing something else.
My college courses are boring the hell out of me. As soon as my sister picks me up a prospectus, I'm signing up for a different course for Creative and MEdia...whether I'll get in on level 2 or level 3, I don't know, it depends on what grades I get for the ones I'm doing now.
I'll be lucky if I pass at all.
I go back to work on sunday. The only reason I'm looking forward to it is work means money and money I need at the moment - unfortunately. If I have the money to, I'd probably never leave the house.
I'm finished with malborough house, I've once again convinced everyone that I'm perfectly happy and sane.
THat's not a complete lie I suppose. I am bordering on happy...I've never been sane so that doesn't really count.
Now I guess I suppose I should explain the title of today's blog post.
I'm a writer. I'm not published or anything, it's just my natural...I guess you could call it talent although my stories are definitely nothing special.
THe story I'm working on at the moment I've been working on...on and off for the last seven years at least. It's a very involved story lol.
But it makes me sad. I've created this world and all these characters. And I mean fully created this world. There are kingdoms and cities and seas and a world history and everything. Details on everything. It's getting to be as involved and detailed as JRR TOlkeins Lord of the rings, though I'm a ways off getting it up to his standard. I'll never be as good as Tolkein but that's not what's upsetting me about it.
The point is, you can create this world in as much detail as you want, but you can never be part of it.
You can create characters and make them act however you want, but you'll never meet them. You grow attached to the world, start to love the characters...but sooner or later you have to come back to reality and accept the fact that you live in this world, not the one in your head.
Make no mistake, if there was some way I could transport myself to the world I've written about, I would go in a heartbeat.
I believe that somewhere is a dimension of 'belief'. That is, there's a dimension that's filled with whatever you imagine, kind of like in never ending story.
Maybe I even lived on my created world in a past life and I can write about it now because it's like a distant memory.
I mean, I don't know if any of you ever get this, but sometimes when I write, I get to a bit that just clicks, and it just feels like I didn't even come up with it, y'know. It's like I already knew it ages ago.
It's kind of hard to explain.
But it makes me so sad that I have to come back and live in this world. I've probably said before, I hate this world. And I've never felt as though I actually belong here, never, even as a child.
In the last 18 years I can't rememeber a time where I ever felt at home, there's never been a sense of belonging that I've read about.
The only reason I'm not trying to kill myself again is because I believe everything happens for a reason. I have some sort of purpose to perform on this world.
You see, it's all to do with energy. There is a natural balance to the universe that I'm sure you know about; hot, cold, light, dark, good, bad, night,day, etc etc etc.
Connecting all of these is energy. Everything done and thought and said, all of it, it all creates an energy. When you die, there's no way you just simply die and that's the end. Death is just a transference of energy. You were human energy, your human body dies, you rejoin the energy of the universe and it starts again, though not necessarily as a human on earth.
Anyway, whatever, explaining what I believe has nothing to do with it.
When I've done what I'm here to do, I think I'm going to know it, and I think then I'm supposed to kill myself. I don't know why, but the only way I can see myself dying is by my own hand.
Besides, if I kill myself, it's down to me how I do it. Not because some pyscho decided to shoot me, not because I got blown up by some suicide bomber who's beliefs I do not share, not because I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Suicide may be seen as the cowards way out, but I never claimed I wasn't a coward and it feels right to me.
I can't imagine myself ten years from now. I just can't do it. I certainly can't see myself in my dream job.
And I'm not sure I'd even want to have my dream job. I can't see myself ever being truly happy. No one's ever truly happy.
Everyone has their own way of coping with the fact that our world of so called civilisation is going down the drain. I hate todays world. I hate guns, I hate cars, I hate industry, and I hate technology. I mean, yes, I have a computer, but that's because most things happen on the computer now.
I even hate modern medicine to a certain degree. It goes against Nature to make a woman who's sterile pregnant. She was obviously not meant to have a child. I'm sorry for those who want children but can't have them, I truly am. I might be that way myself. But fertility treatment is another of mankinds stupid ploys to play god.
I can't even begin to explain how much I despise this reality. I despise this world and most things in it and I would do anything to be somewhere else.
My way of dealing with this is writing stories. I get so wrapped up in what I'm writing that I go for hours without stopping and for a little while I forget that I'm not there.
And then something happens, I'll need a pee or my mum will call me or something like that... and it all shatters.
I'm bordering on madness day in, day out. It's a terrible feeling.
You can create a world in as much detail as you want...
...but you'll never be part of it.
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