Actually I won't

Before I start this post I want to thank Darcy for the comment. I'm glad someone gets it, and I'm also glad that you enjoy the way I write. Writing has always been a joy to me, I find words enjoyable company. Words can have such thrilling meaning...a simple word can convery so much, such as disgust or anguish or fury. It's very satisfying to have words like those. My favourite word is beauty. If you look hard enough you can find beauty in everything.
I enjoy this thought because I, with most things, not just my statement on beauty, am a contradiction. I am the one thing you can't find beauty in.
I am the exception.

Perhaps that is what really fucks me up. Not the fact that I'm so different from everyone else, but the fact that I am NOT. I would give anything to be completely different from the masses and perhaps that is why I look for some kind of mental dysfunction.

So that I can finally say, there. I'm not like you.

I feel that there is something different about me, something no one else has. And I cling to this like a frightened child clings to her mother for protection, comfort and security.

I don't know what it is, but it's there. It's always there, whispering to me as I lie awake in the darkness, sleep gnawing at my thoughts but never quite managing to get through.

I'm never really awake and I'm stuck like this...in this state of perpetual groginess.

My head constantly feels like it's under water or stuffed with cotton wool.

I got to sleep last night. And when I woke up this morning, I wished I hadn't. Most of the time, sleeping is worse than not being able to sleep at all...because your mind has free reign when you're unconscious. It plays tricks on you the way it wants to but can't when you're awake.

The dreams I had last night left me in a cold sweat. I was at work but it wasn't the right building. The chefs were there and they were so angry at me and I don't know why. As punishment for leaving in the summer holidays (which I'm all set to do), they had me do my chores completely naked and I was so fat, bulging from my bones like some grotesque ooze...oozing flesh, flab hanging from more flab, doubling over myself in pudgy rolls of flesh. And I was so upset in my dream...I was crying and angry and furious.

Then I woke up...I know something else happened in that dream, but all I can remember is the emotion and the fat and the nakedness.

I hate dreams...I think I actually hate them more than lying awake in the oppressive darkness, eyes glazed in exhuastion but unable to close.

I'm gonna run out of cigarettes and money way before the next payday. Which is a serious bummer.

Next pay day I have to give my mum a hundred...forty for bus card...the rest is mine but we're all going to see Alice in Wonderland at the cinema and a trip to Pizza Hut. So I'm gonna be completely skint all of next month too.

That's such a depressing prospect since I'm dead certain my mum won't help me on the cigarette score. She doesn't want me to smoke so she sure as hell ain't gonna buy me any more when I run out.

I don't know whether I mentioned this last post, but I've got a new plan for so called education. The reason I am agreeing to education is because I can apply for EMA so I'll still be able to get cigs when I quit work...

But I'm thinking Film Studies, Photography, Sociology and Philosophy...Maybe English lit.

The education 'place' is all I know. I hate it but I'm a masochist so...besides...mother says if I don't go to college I have to get a full time job and I can't do that cos I'd either quit or get fired within a few weeks. So 'education' it is.

I still don't know what I want to do. Well that's not strictly true. I know four things that I would absolutely love to do professionally; directing films, acting, photography and writing.

But... for acting I would have to be A LOT skinnier. For directing I'd have to be A LOT more people-friendly. For the other two...well I think for the other two is the same as all of them...I'd have to actually WANT to be here. And I don't.

You can't work a job when you simply do not care.

So I just have to stay in education until I either self destruct or 'learn to live with it'.

That's the title by the way. Mother keeps saying, 'you'll learn to live with it'.
Actually, I won't.

I think Self-destruction is the only thing humans really have.

I think that is my only path. The hive that is my mind, the constant thought activity, all the fucking voices in my head, the simulations of my own voice, constantly whispering and screaming and yelling at me...

It won't let me live a 'normal' life...and I don't even want to.

Even as I sit here typing, I can feel the bulging of my stomach.

Almost as if it's trying to suck my arms into it...It's like my stomach wants to suck the rest of my into it...just to fill a void that it tries filling with food, but food just doesn't cut it.

Nothing will ever fill that void...it's just been open way too long...I'll never be bullimic because I hate throwing up, I'll never be anorexic because I don't have the will power to stop eating.

I suppose that's a good thing. But in a way it isn't. I know any former ED-sufferer will be very pissed at me for saying that. I know it ruined your lives, and I'm sorry for that.

But you'll never understand how much I need something...anything...some form of self destruction.

Self harm is on hold for now...just until I quit work. Well...not really on hold per-se...more tuned down. I still do it, but I can't release the full extent of that because I can't turn up at work with cuts all down my arms because I would be fired on the spot and I need the money. Hence why I'm quitting in the summer holidays, not right now.

And I'm gonna try not to spend any of it that's not totally necessary, because I need it to last as long as possible.
Then I can apply for EMA. At least that way I'll have a reason for turning up to lesson.

I can only see two possible bumps in the road of my plan. The first bump is if I actually get kicked out of college. The second is if someone stupidly decides that I'm a threat and locks me in a padded cell.

I don't think I'll get kicked out of college...unless I turn up pissed out of my tree...which isn't too likely to happen since I prefer to drink alone, in private, at home.

And I doubt I'll ever get locked into a padded cell because it doesn't matter if you are insane to yourself...just if you're a threat to the general public and I'm not.

I really need some sun glasses...everything's too bright and I'm so sick of people trying to make eye contact. I don't wanna make eye contact. You're not getting into my soul, so fuck off with your prying eyes.

So that's it for now. I have to go to work in an hour and a half...joy. Luckily it's sunday and sundays are relatively easy.

We just have this week and then it's half term. Yay.

My boss gave me the form I have to fill in so that they can take me off emergency tax and give me a rebate. I think I'll put most of that towards my Digital SLR camera.

I've wanted one for years. And I'll need one for a level photography anyway.

Mum thinks I won't last at philosophy or sociology. She's probably right but I have to do something. I'm not gonna last at anything but what does she want me to do? Get some dead boring job and waste away.

The wasting away I might be able to manage...but not the dead boring job. If it's one thing I absolutely despise, it's being fucking bored.

So anyway...I'm done writing for now.

Post soon.

xXx