It seems like months since I last posted but it was what? A few days?
I've almost finished Madness by Marya Hornbacher. I can't read for too long cos I can't focus.
I'm seeing my college councillor next thursday and possibly showing her my black books. Only one other person has ever seen any of my BB's and that was Hope and the one she saw was while I was at school and I burned it.
I'm on my ninth. Mum wants me to talk to her about futher help and then I have to go to the docs. Mother thinks they might have some sort of medication that can help me. She says she can't say anything that she hasn't already said to me, so it's up to me to get the help I need.
On the one hand I'm glad she's taking more notice, but on the other hand she's still not...I mean, she won't even take a day off work to come to the docs with me.
Had a bad night last night. Didn't drag myself out of bed until gone 2 this afternoon.
Not in the best of moods for some reason, not sure why.
There's not really much to say, everything's the same as usual, no shocking updates or anything.
Not that any of my updates have ever been shocking or anything.
Voices are getting louder. I hear them in my head but they're seperate from me. Listen to something on headphones that go in your ear. That's how they sound to me.
Anyway, I'll post later.
Tuesday, 29 June 2010
Tuesday, 22 June 2010
Turn around
Mum's a legend once again. So she let's me make a DK on her WOW account and apparently she's seen an improvement in me since I've been playing Abracadavour so she's going to pay for me to get my WOW account back XD
DK - Death Knight
WOW - World Of Warcraft
I found my favourite Meat Loaf song on Youtube so been listening to that non stop - Life Is A Lemon (I want my money back).
So things are looking up.
xXx
DK - Death Knight
WOW - World Of Warcraft
I found my favourite Meat Loaf song on Youtube so been listening to that non stop - Life Is A Lemon (I want my money back).
So things are looking up.
xXx
Monday, 21 June 2010
Good enough for your lies
I haven't written in a while. Haven't had much to say. Went to the summer solstice at Avebury yesterday with my sister and her boyfriend. Met a few of my mates from college there. Had a really good time actually, despite the amount of people there....but Avebury has an amazing vibe. There was a drum circle there and they were still playing when we left at half 2 this morning. We were going to stay all night and watch the dawn but we were twats and didn't take enough blankets so we got too cold. There was a drum performance as well, they were acting out the story of Little Red Riding Hood. It was absolutely fantastic.
That's about the good part of the last few months.
Mum insists that if I want help about my 'issues', I have to get it myself but if I do that people will think I'm malingering. Maybe I am, maybe it's nothing. I don't know. I'm not a psychologist.
She said I had to get a job and she couldn't provide for me anymore but that didn't stop her saying she forked out £80 a fucking month to the people sorting out her debts. She doesn't give my anywhere near that much.
She said she couldn't afford to pay my busfare but she said she did.
Anyways...that's it for now.
That's about the good part of the last few months.
Mum insists that if I want help about my 'issues', I have to get it myself but if I do that people will think I'm malingering. Maybe I am, maybe it's nothing. I don't know. I'm not a psychologist.
She said I had to get a job and she couldn't provide for me anymore but that didn't stop her saying she forked out £80 a fucking month to the people sorting out her debts. She doesn't give my anywhere near that much.
She said she couldn't afford to pay my busfare but she said she did.
Anyways...that's it for now.
Saturday, 12 June 2010
Letters
I wrote my last letter to mother today. One final attempt to make her see.
I guess part of me must care somewhere or I wouldn't bother getting out bed...and that sounds like a great plan...but I can't find it. The part that cares I mean. I'm numb.
I might post how it goes. Dunno.
I've realised that the things I say on here probably aren't the things I should. Perhaps they are inappropriate.
I'm socially inapropriate and awkward anyways so I guess it was inevitable really.
Having a whiny blog I mean.
Well that's it for today, I'm too tired to write anymore.
I guess part of me must care somewhere or I wouldn't bother getting out bed...and that sounds like a great plan...but I can't find it. The part that cares I mean. I'm numb.
I might post how it goes. Dunno.
I've realised that the things I say on here probably aren't the things I should. Perhaps they are inappropriate.
I'm socially inapropriate and awkward anyways so I guess it was inevitable really.
Having a whiny blog I mean.
Well that's it for today, I'm too tired to write anymore.
Friday, 11 June 2010
I think I understand now
There's something wrong with me. I don't mean illness or disorder or any of that shit. I mean me. I mean that I am wrong. Perhaps I should say there's something wrong about me rather than with me.
It's the only explanation. Surely if there was something wrong with me than they'd have noticed by now. So I'm just wrong.
People don't like to be around me. I'm not a very fun person to be around. I don't have many friends. I mean...I don't really have any. I guess Hope's my friend...she's my best friend...but I don't think she really likes me that much. I'm not a likeable person.
I have people at college but...I'm not really their friend. I'm more the person they can hang with when there's no one else.
My own parents can't stand to be around me. I wonder whether they're actually my parents. I've always wondered it but now it's more than just wondering whether I was adopted.
It's that mother somehow gave birth to this monster by mistake.
There's something about me that nobody likes...it makes people wanna leave me, wanna get the fuck away from me.
I don't want to drive people away but I always manage to.
I had a dream at some point either this morning or last night, I'm not sure which cos I kept waking up...but I had this dream and all I can remember is screaming to my mother that I hated her.
I can't figure out if I do or not. Hate her I mean. I'm not sure because maybe it's not her. Maybe my ex best friend was right, maybe I really am the 'bad guy'.
Every story has a bad guy...sometimes you feel sorry for this bad guy or you can relate to them...but they're still the bad guy. And sometimes there's the bad guy that you're praying someone kills off. Maybe I'm that kind of bad guy.
I wasn't very much fun to be with anyway
Let the blood run red cos I can't feel
- Scissors, Slipknot
There's something about me that makes everyone go. Like my dad. I don't mean he went cos he didn't. But he hates me. He can't stand to be around me and I can't remember the last time he even hugged me. He hugged my sister. He loves her. He doesn't love me.
Mum's just given up on me. She's turned her back on me, she doesn't love me anymore, if she even did to begin with.
I'm like Sumara, from the ring...except I can't burn pictures into things. But she couldn't help being evil and she just wanted someone to love her but they couldn't.
Fine. I don't care. People would just get in the way.
It's the only explanation. Surely if there was something wrong with me than they'd have noticed by now. So I'm just wrong.
People don't like to be around me. I'm not a very fun person to be around. I don't have many friends. I mean...I don't really have any. I guess Hope's my friend...she's my best friend...but I don't think she really likes me that much. I'm not a likeable person.
I have people at college but...I'm not really their friend. I'm more the person they can hang with when there's no one else.
My own parents can't stand to be around me. I wonder whether they're actually my parents. I've always wondered it but now it's more than just wondering whether I was adopted.
It's that mother somehow gave birth to this monster by mistake.
There's something about me that nobody likes...it makes people wanna leave me, wanna get the fuck away from me.
I don't want to drive people away but I always manage to.
I had a dream at some point either this morning or last night, I'm not sure which cos I kept waking up...but I had this dream and all I can remember is screaming to my mother that I hated her.
I can't figure out if I do or not. Hate her I mean. I'm not sure because maybe it's not her. Maybe my ex best friend was right, maybe I really am the 'bad guy'.
Every story has a bad guy...sometimes you feel sorry for this bad guy or you can relate to them...but they're still the bad guy. And sometimes there's the bad guy that you're praying someone kills off. Maybe I'm that kind of bad guy.
I wasn't very much fun to be with anyway
Let the blood run red cos I can't feel
- Scissors, Slipknot
There's something about me that makes everyone go. Like my dad. I don't mean he went cos he didn't. But he hates me. He can't stand to be around me and I can't remember the last time he even hugged me. He hugged my sister. He loves her. He doesn't love me.
Mum's just given up on me. She's turned her back on me, she doesn't love me anymore, if she even did to begin with.
I'm like Sumara, from the ring...except I can't burn pictures into things. But she couldn't help being evil and she just wanted someone to love her but they couldn't.
Fine. I don't care. People would just get in the way.
Commitment
Hello to everyone who occasionally reads this blog or just happens to be reading this post.
As those of you who have seen this blog before may have noticed, I gave it a bit of a makeover.
I have been down and blah lately, and not doing so well on anything so I thought a change of scenery might spur my commitment levels. Since I don't like going out, the only change of scenery I can do is on here, hence the little makeover.
I think it looks kinda cool now. Way better than it looked before.
I'm a little way into reading Madness by Marya Hornbacher. It's good but I think I actually prefer Wasted. I don't know, we'll see when I've finished reading it, it's a little early to judge right now.
I was on facebook earlier and everyone keeps putting up photo's of fun times and everything with their mates...and I don't go out, I don't have very many friends and so I don't have any cool pictures to put up. It makes me feel awful lonely.
I've given up on trying to explain anything to my mum because she replied to my email by basically saying that's tough deal with it, if you want a life you have to get off your arse and get a job. And some other stuff.
I never said I wanted a life. I think I'm making progress with my councilor though...I don't know yet, might be a bit early to tell.
I've decided that since I've completely screwed up my educational career, I'm going to commit to my own personal experiment and my own personal education. I'm going to teach. I am going to teach my mother what happens when she doesn't listen to me. I'm going to teach what happens when people push and push someone until they snap.
I'm going to commit to this. I've said that before but I was too afraid to truly commit because part of me still believed that I could somehow 'make it'. I have since learned that there's no making it for me...there's no life beyond this thing inside of me.
There's nothing. I'm nothing. I'm going to waste away. If she won't let me kill myself quickly, then I shall die slowly.
I don't care how it happens, as long as it happens. It's actually more interesting to do it slowly now that I think about it, because then you can examine each process in detail. It lets you watch yourself, as if somebody else, just watch yourself slowly turn to dust.
Quite a few posts ago I said I didn't wanna be dust. Well, asI always do, I have changed my mind. Dust is better than what I am now. So I will. I'll rot away into dust and there is nothing anyone can do to stop me.
As those of you who have seen this blog before may have noticed, I gave it a bit of a makeover.
I have been down and blah lately, and not doing so well on anything so I thought a change of scenery might spur my commitment levels. Since I don't like going out, the only change of scenery I can do is on here, hence the little makeover.
I think it looks kinda cool now. Way better than it looked before.
I'm a little way into reading Madness by Marya Hornbacher. It's good but I think I actually prefer Wasted. I don't know, we'll see when I've finished reading it, it's a little early to judge right now.
I was on facebook earlier and everyone keeps putting up photo's of fun times and everything with their mates...and I don't go out, I don't have very many friends and so I don't have any cool pictures to put up. It makes me feel awful lonely.
I've given up on trying to explain anything to my mum because she replied to my email by basically saying that's tough deal with it, if you want a life you have to get off your arse and get a job. And some other stuff.
I never said I wanted a life. I think I'm making progress with my councilor though...I don't know yet, might be a bit early to tell.
I've decided that since I've completely screwed up my educational career, I'm going to commit to my own personal experiment and my own personal education. I'm going to teach. I am going to teach my mother what happens when she doesn't listen to me. I'm going to teach what happens when people push and push someone until they snap.
I'm going to commit to this. I've said that before but I was too afraid to truly commit because part of me still believed that I could somehow 'make it'. I have since learned that there's no making it for me...there's no life beyond this thing inside of me.
There's nothing. I'm nothing. I'm going to waste away. If she won't let me kill myself quickly, then I shall die slowly.
I don't care how it happens, as long as it happens. It's actually more interesting to do it slowly now that I think about it, because then you can examine each process in detail. It lets you watch yourself, as if somebody else, just watch yourself slowly turn to dust.
Quite a few posts ago I said I didn't wanna be dust. Well, asI always do, I have changed my mind. Dust is better than what I am now. So I will. I'll rot away into dust and there is nothing anyone can do to stop me.
Wednesday, 9 June 2010
Shockingly...
... I am so not surprised.
College won't let me be a full time student cos they don't think I can cope with it. I'm actually grateful for them for that but of course my mother is less than pleased.
I wrote her a letter explaining it and I asked her to email me. I gave her plenty of time then went downstairs. what's she doing? Fucking playing WOW. I don't even know if she bothered reading it but she didn't look at me so I guess she's doing the ignoring me. Whether she noticed me or not is besides the point, you'd think that her child's welfare would be more fuckin important than a stupid fuckin computer game.
I give up. It is fucking POINTLESS.
In other news, I found some books in the library to read my way through, including Madness by Marya Hornbacher.
I was trying to light the grill earlier and the fucking thing we have that's supposed to light it has stopped working so I asked dad if I could borrow his lighter and he said it doesn't work because people don't pay attention to what they're doing.
Which is fucking bollocks because he moaned the other day about it not working. He always has to make me feel so much worse about myself, like everyone's just plain stupid compared to him.
I've had it.
College won't let me be a full time student cos they don't think I can cope with it. I'm actually grateful for them for that but of course my mother is less than pleased.
I wrote her a letter explaining it and I asked her to email me. I gave her plenty of time then went downstairs. what's she doing? Fucking playing WOW. I don't even know if she bothered reading it but she didn't look at me so I guess she's doing the ignoring me. Whether she noticed me or not is besides the point, you'd think that her child's welfare would be more fuckin important than a stupid fuckin computer game.
I give up. It is fucking POINTLESS.
In other news, I found some books in the library to read my way through, including Madness by Marya Hornbacher.
I was trying to light the grill earlier and the fucking thing we have that's supposed to light it has stopped working so I asked dad if I could borrow his lighter and he said it doesn't work because people don't pay attention to what they're doing.
Which is fucking bollocks because he moaned the other day about it not working. He always has to make me feel so much worse about myself, like everyone's just plain stupid compared to him.
I've had it.
Monday, 7 June 2010
claustrophobic
I'm not claustrophobic but I'm feeling it today. My room is a box. I can't move around in here, it's all fucking...grr.
I have things in boxes and boxes on piled on boxes and everything's all squashed and fucking stacked and it's all stuffy and I can't breathe.
And no one will help me, they're like just throw stuff out, I can't, I've already sorted through my stuff when we switched rooms and I've already thrown out everything I can, I'm a hoarder with a lot of interests, I'm gonna have a lot of stuff and it doesn't fucking fit into this box of a fucking room.
I need new furniture as well but my mum won't help she's like you have to get a job.
I am so fucking sick of her saying that every time I even mention money she says I have to get a job.
I FUCKING CAN'T. I CANNOT STAND BEING WITH PEOPLE, I CANNOT STAND ACTING LIKE EVERYTHING'S OKAY AND I CANNOT FUCKING STAND LIVING LIKE THIS!
I am so fucking sick of her telling me to just fucking get over it and get a life. I'm so sick of that. I can't have a life because I don't want to fucking live, I am sick, DEAL WITH IT.
I am so fucking angry right now and I can't get it out. I need to cry and it won't come out.
Everyone's fucking abandoning me like what's going on in my head and what's fucking happening with me right now doesn't matter, it's just a fucking phase or something and it's just making me so angry cos my sister she gets fucking everything, everyone fell over for her when she was 'sick' and they scraped and fawned and oh poor baby and all that fucking shit and yet I need some fucking understanding and they're shoving me away, you're a big girl now deal with it.
I'm tired of every day being a fucking struggle.
It's like I'm not allowed to have anything wrong, I'm not allowed to be 'sick' I'm not allowed to have problems or any of that shit.
I'm the one that just has to keep my fucking mouth shut and deal with it while everyone else gets to go moping around like their problems mean the end of the fucking world.
I'm not allowed to get upset about anything. Ros gets upset and she's fucking depressed oh my god how do we stop this illness, I get upset and I'm being a spoilt fucking brat.
I'm so sick of this and I can't fucking stand it anymore it's driving me fucking crazy and then they turn round and act all fucking surprised when i swallow a load of pills.
you bastards, you blind fucking bastads!
laugh in your loneliness
child of the wilderness
learn to be lonely
learn how to love life that is lived alone
- learn to be lonely, phantom of the opera
I have things in boxes and boxes on piled on boxes and everything's all squashed and fucking stacked and it's all stuffy and I can't breathe.
And no one will help me, they're like just throw stuff out, I can't, I've already sorted through my stuff when we switched rooms and I've already thrown out everything I can, I'm a hoarder with a lot of interests, I'm gonna have a lot of stuff and it doesn't fucking fit into this box of a fucking room.
I need new furniture as well but my mum won't help she's like you have to get a job.
I am so fucking sick of her saying that every time I even mention money she says I have to get a job.
I FUCKING CAN'T. I CANNOT STAND BEING WITH PEOPLE, I CANNOT STAND ACTING LIKE EVERYTHING'S OKAY AND I CANNOT FUCKING STAND LIVING LIKE THIS!
I am so fucking sick of her telling me to just fucking get over it and get a life. I'm so sick of that. I can't have a life because I don't want to fucking live, I am sick, DEAL WITH IT.
I am so fucking angry right now and I can't get it out. I need to cry and it won't come out.
Everyone's fucking abandoning me like what's going on in my head and what's fucking happening with me right now doesn't matter, it's just a fucking phase or something and it's just making me so angry cos my sister she gets fucking everything, everyone fell over for her when she was 'sick' and they scraped and fawned and oh poor baby and all that fucking shit and yet I need some fucking understanding and they're shoving me away, you're a big girl now deal with it.
I'm tired of every day being a fucking struggle.
It's like I'm not allowed to have anything wrong, I'm not allowed to be 'sick' I'm not allowed to have problems or any of that shit.
I'm the one that just has to keep my fucking mouth shut and deal with it while everyone else gets to go moping around like their problems mean the end of the fucking world.
I'm not allowed to get upset about anything. Ros gets upset and she's fucking depressed oh my god how do we stop this illness, I get upset and I'm being a spoilt fucking brat.
I'm so sick of this and I can't fucking stand it anymore it's driving me fucking crazy and then they turn round and act all fucking surprised when i swallow a load of pills.
you bastards, you blind fucking bastads!
laugh in your loneliness
child of the wilderness
learn to be lonely
learn how to love life that is lived alone
- learn to be lonely, phantom of the opera
Size 12
Okay so I'm at 155 lbs at the moment which I know is huge and also I don't think that's what my ticker says because I put on weight but I'm losing it again and I'm no where near my target BUT... My mum was sorting through the washing and she says these aren't mine and I said well they ain't mine cos they'll be too small for me and my sis goes they ain't mine so I goes give them to me and when I lose more weight I can wear them.
So last night just for the hell of it I decided to try them on as a bit of reverse thinspo...
Well, I am wearing them now. They FIT. I was heading towards size 16 and now I am in a pair of size 12 jeans.
Yes, I have a lot more weight to lose but this is a HUGE step!
Watching Girl, Interrupted. Not only is it a great film but it's good thinspo, firstly because one of the girls is an anoretic called Janet, but also because Angelina Jolie's in it and she is GORGEOUS. Her character's called Lisa and she's a sociopath. She's very good in this film and I just love her character. I wish I was as brave as Lisa.
But yeah, Angie's so thin in this film, my favourite bit is when she's lying on Suzanna's bed as she says 'well that's what the-raping's all about', she's so thin, she's gorgeous, especially her thighs man, my thighs are like four times the size of hers. Probably even bigger.
I'm getting better at resisting temptation. I mean I failed epically yesterday when my aunt offered to get me an ice cream (I know, uber fuck up), but I was thinking about food so much when I couldn't sleep last night and I didn't get up and eat anything, which is a big step and also when I was watching tv today usually in the adverts I get something to eat but I didn't.
I have eaten today but I've made sure I've kept my calorie intake below 500. I'm dropping it slowly because every time I drop it completely, I end up going totally haywire and binging. Hopefully if I drop it slowly I won't fuck up so much. I know I'm going to occasionally because that's my bodies way of saying hang on what the fuck's going on. But I'm not going to give up this time.
The only thing in my life right now is my...I don't know what to call it. I'm not going to say illness because that's not what it is. I don't have a disorder or anything and because of what I've written in this post so far I'll just say for the record that I'm not talking about my wannabe-anorexia, because that's not what I mean.
There's more to this than trying not to eat and most of it doesn't have anything to do with food or weight or getting thin. That's just a tiny bit that happens to be the bit I'm working on now.
I'll call it Psychosis (not to be confused with the psychosis they use to explain a step down from Scizophrenia, it's purely psychosis as in the way my mind works).
I had this really weird 'trip' last night. (No I didn't take any drugs).
I was stood next to my computer and my window was open cos it's so damn hot, so I could see two reflections of myself. One was in the main panel of the window and the other was on the open bit. Now the one on the main panel looked normal, normal skin tone, normal eyes, just a plain old reflection.
The one on the open window looked...in a word demonic. The skin was really pale and so were the lips and the eyes were really sunken in and dark and the eye brows were barely visible and...urgh, it really freaked me out.
But anyway...just wanted to share my little triumph. I know it probably doesn't seem like much but...fitting into a size 12 is a good step for me. I just hope this keeps going well. I'd love to walk into a clothes shop and be able to fit into a size 8 or 6...God, I can't even imagine that.
I haven't fit into anything lower than a size 12 since I was...11? Yeah I know, I was a fat kid lol.
But I'm not gonna stay one :)
Peace out. xxx
So last night just for the hell of it I decided to try them on as a bit of reverse thinspo...
Well, I am wearing them now. They FIT. I was heading towards size 16 and now I am in a pair of size 12 jeans.
Yes, I have a lot more weight to lose but this is a HUGE step!
Watching Girl, Interrupted. Not only is it a great film but it's good thinspo, firstly because one of the girls is an anoretic called Janet, but also because Angelina Jolie's in it and she is GORGEOUS. Her character's called Lisa and she's a sociopath. She's very good in this film and I just love her character. I wish I was as brave as Lisa.
But yeah, Angie's so thin in this film, my favourite bit is when she's lying on Suzanna's bed as she says 'well that's what the-raping's all about', she's so thin, she's gorgeous, especially her thighs man, my thighs are like four times the size of hers. Probably even bigger.
I'm getting better at resisting temptation. I mean I failed epically yesterday when my aunt offered to get me an ice cream (I know, uber fuck up), but I was thinking about food so much when I couldn't sleep last night and I didn't get up and eat anything, which is a big step and also when I was watching tv today usually in the adverts I get something to eat but I didn't.
I have eaten today but I've made sure I've kept my calorie intake below 500. I'm dropping it slowly because every time I drop it completely, I end up going totally haywire and binging. Hopefully if I drop it slowly I won't fuck up so much. I know I'm going to occasionally because that's my bodies way of saying hang on what the fuck's going on. But I'm not going to give up this time.
The only thing in my life right now is my...I don't know what to call it. I'm not going to say illness because that's not what it is. I don't have a disorder or anything and because of what I've written in this post so far I'll just say for the record that I'm not talking about my wannabe-anorexia, because that's not what I mean.
There's more to this than trying not to eat and most of it doesn't have anything to do with food or weight or getting thin. That's just a tiny bit that happens to be the bit I'm working on now.
I'll call it Psychosis (not to be confused with the psychosis they use to explain a step down from Scizophrenia, it's purely psychosis as in the way my mind works).
I had this really weird 'trip' last night. (No I didn't take any drugs).
I was stood next to my computer and my window was open cos it's so damn hot, so I could see two reflections of myself. One was in the main panel of the window and the other was on the open bit. Now the one on the main panel looked normal, normal skin tone, normal eyes, just a plain old reflection.
The one on the open window looked...in a word demonic. The skin was really pale and so were the lips and the eyes were really sunken in and dark and the eye brows were barely visible and...urgh, it really freaked me out.
But anyway...just wanted to share my little triumph. I know it probably doesn't seem like much but...fitting into a size 12 is a good step for me. I just hope this keeps going well. I'd love to walk into a clothes shop and be able to fit into a size 8 or 6...God, I can't even imagine that.
I haven't fit into anything lower than a size 12 since I was...11? Yeah I know, I was a fat kid lol.
But I'm not gonna stay one :)
Peace out. xxx
Sunday, 6 June 2010
Bad
I was bad and had a cornetto today. Went to a band thing with my mum cos she's in the Cricklade band so...hence the ice cream.
Although my attempts at not eating are pretty pathetic at the moment I'm not letting it bother me because I'm still not eating as much as I used to so...besides these things take time right?
I don't really have anything to report today but I'm seriously bored, watching 28 days again...
I don't care what I'm doing as long as I'm not eating though I may have to eat soon. It's just until I get back to college though because if I tell mum I ate at college she won't get so pissed. And then I'll have work to do so I won't constantly be thinking about food.
Not that I'm constantly thinking about food at the moment cos all I'm thinking at the moment are stupid day dreams about ending up in a nut house.
I'm preparing myself for what I'm going to do in a few months...Everything is going to depend on whether I get EMA or not.
I need that money cos I sure as hell can't get a job. It's hard enough going to college.
Yeah I really don't have anything to say right now so I'm gonna randomly surf the net.
xXx
Although my attempts at not eating are pretty pathetic at the moment I'm not letting it bother me because I'm still not eating as much as I used to so...besides these things take time right?
I don't really have anything to report today but I'm seriously bored, watching 28 days again...
I don't care what I'm doing as long as I'm not eating though I may have to eat soon. It's just until I get back to college though because if I tell mum I ate at college she won't get so pissed. And then I'll have work to do so I won't constantly be thinking about food.
Not that I'm constantly thinking about food at the moment cos all I'm thinking at the moment are stupid day dreams about ending up in a nut house.
I'm preparing myself for what I'm going to do in a few months...Everything is going to depend on whether I get EMA or not.
I need that money cos I sure as hell can't get a job. It's hard enough going to college.
Yeah I really don't have anything to say right now so I'm gonna randomly surf the net.
xXx
Saturday, 5 June 2010
Abe's Rabbit
I'm reading this guys story of his experience in a psych ward and he's just said this really funny bit.
Cindy is one of the staff on the ward and she asks him if he's suicidal, he honestly admits 'yes', 'do you have a plan?' and he replies 'No, but I'm open to suggestions.'
Lmfao.
-----
Oh my god, I finished his story (which is called Abe's rabbit, hence the title) and it made me cry!
Basically this guys roommate is called Abe, and Abe has no one but his pet rabbit, no job, his wife got custody of his kids and wouldn't let him see them, so he literally had no one but his rabbit. No one was feeding his rabbit so there he is getting worked up in a psych ward because he couldn't feed his rabbit.
The guy who's telling the story, Benjamin I think his name was, he realises that Abe is really upset and thinking suicidally, so he tells him of a rabbit he had called Houdini, and how this rabbit used to get a carrot in his mouth and pry the door open.
Ben was on watch in his room with Abe trying to make sure he didn't kill himself but got a call from his wife.
When he goes back to his room it's filled with nurses who won't let him in. You can imagine, Ben's upset with himself for leaving his post as it were and thinks Abe's killed himself, then hears a staff say there was a carrot in the door to keep it from closing and then he realises Abe just escaped. Above his bed post there's a little note scratched into the wood with the knife he thought Abe would kill himself with which read "Went to set a rabbit free. Remember, even the smallest things in life are worth living for."
So cute.
Well it's 5pm and I haven't eaten a thing. Been down the street twice so I've had a little exercise.
Had about two thirds of a litre bottle of Kx (stimulant drink 30mg/100ml) so I'm feeling pretty spaced.
It's kind of a nice spaced though. It kind of stops all my thoughts from drowning me out kind of thing.
Which is nice ... "I don't like it here, it's terribly crowded" - Hatter, Alice in Wonderland.
Watched it on Box Office twice yesterday I absolutely love it. I'm in a wonderland type place but mine is much, much nastier than Alice's.
It's great though, one of my favourite childhood stories (Alice in Wonderland) in a film directed by my favourite director (Tim Burton) with my favourite actor (Johnny Depp) playing my favourite character (Hatter). AND Tim fixed the one thing that pissed me off with the story, which was that she woke up and it was all a dream.
What I love about the way Johnny plays the Hatter is that his accent changes depending on where his head is at that moment, like if he's spaced out it's all ooooh and light and weird, but when he gets mad it's hard and randomly scottishy.
I don't know how to explain it but if you watch it I'm sure you'll get what I mean.
I like the March Hare as well, the way he just goes 'Spoon', that made me laugh my arse off.
But yeah...
If I had my way, I would make everyone leave me alone, I would lock myself in my room and I would stay here and crawl into my head and just rot.
That's what people should do. Leave me to rot. It's all I want and it's all I deserve.
And I honestly think that some day soon it's gonna happen and I'll be completely mad and nonsensical and off my head and completely round the bend in a 360 degree spin.
I don't know...I just know that I'm not...fine.
but hey ho.
Cindy is one of the staff on the ward and she asks him if he's suicidal, he honestly admits 'yes', 'do you have a plan?' and he replies 'No, but I'm open to suggestions.'
Lmfao.
-----
Oh my god, I finished his story (which is called Abe's rabbit, hence the title) and it made me cry!
Basically this guys roommate is called Abe, and Abe has no one but his pet rabbit, no job, his wife got custody of his kids and wouldn't let him see them, so he literally had no one but his rabbit. No one was feeding his rabbit so there he is getting worked up in a psych ward because he couldn't feed his rabbit.
The guy who's telling the story, Benjamin I think his name was, he realises that Abe is really upset and thinking suicidally, so he tells him of a rabbit he had called Houdini, and how this rabbit used to get a carrot in his mouth and pry the door open.
Ben was on watch in his room with Abe trying to make sure he didn't kill himself but got a call from his wife.
When he goes back to his room it's filled with nurses who won't let him in. You can imagine, Ben's upset with himself for leaving his post as it were and thinks Abe's killed himself, then hears a staff say there was a carrot in the door to keep it from closing and then he realises Abe just escaped. Above his bed post there's a little note scratched into the wood with the knife he thought Abe would kill himself with which read "Went to set a rabbit free. Remember, even the smallest things in life are worth living for."
So cute.
Well it's 5pm and I haven't eaten a thing. Been down the street twice so I've had a little exercise.
Had about two thirds of a litre bottle of Kx (stimulant drink 30mg/100ml) so I'm feeling pretty spaced.
It's kind of a nice spaced though. It kind of stops all my thoughts from drowning me out kind of thing.
Which is nice ... "I don't like it here, it's terribly crowded" - Hatter, Alice in Wonderland.
Watched it on Box Office twice yesterday I absolutely love it. I'm in a wonderland type place but mine is much, much nastier than Alice's.
It's great though, one of my favourite childhood stories (Alice in Wonderland) in a film directed by my favourite director (Tim Burton) with my favourite actor (Johnny Depp) playing my favourite character (Hatter). AND Tim fixed the one thing that pissed me off with the story, which was that she woke up and it was all a dream.
What I love about the way Johnny plays the Hatter is that his accent changes depending on where his head is at that moment, like if he's spaced out it's all ooooh and light and weird, but when he gets mad it's hard and randomly scottishy.
I don't know how to explain it but if you watch it I'm sure you'll get what I mean.
I like the March Hare as well, the way he just goes 'Spoon', that made me laugh my arse off.
But yeah...
If I had my way, I would make everyone leave me alone, I would lock myself in my room and I would stay here and crawl into my head and just rot.
That's what people should do. Leave me to rot. It's all I want and it's all I deserve.
And I honestly think that some day soon it's gonna happen and I'll be completely mad and nonsensical and off my head and completely round the bend in a 360 degree spin.
I don't know...I just know that I'm not...fine.
but hey ho.
Addition
I have a tendancy to read through my posts once I've posted them, and as I was reading through the last one I thought of an example as it were of how Slipknot make me feel.
It's as if they all joined into this one being, and this being slams its fist into my chest and slowly rips out everything inside me that I hate. It fucking hurts like a sonofabitch...but it's like emptying a slowly sinking rowboat with a bucket. I'm in the row boat and Slipknot are my bucket. Yeah I'll probably sink anyway, but for the time being, it's scooping up the water and bailing it out, giving me that little bit more time.
I just wanted to add that,
It was really odd a minute ago because I swear to god, I heard someone calling me so I listened really hard and they called me again, so I paused my music and called did someone call me and mother was like no and I was like are you sure and she was like yeah and I was like oh...that was weird.
It was sketchy as, I proper heard someone calling my name.
But yeah...that's it from me for the time being.
Stay (sic) fuckers!!!!!
It's as if they all joined into this one being, and this being slams its fist into my chest and slowly rips out everything inside me that I hate. It fucking hurts like a sonofabitch...but it's like emptying a slowly sinking rowboat with a bucket. I'm in the row boat and Slipknot are my bucket. Yeah I'll probably sink anyway, but for the time being, it's scooping up the water and bailing it out, giving me that little bit more time.
I just wanted to add that,
It was really odd a minute ago because I swear to god, I heard someone calling me so I listened really hard and they called me again, so I paused my music and called did someone call me and mother was like no and I was like are you sure and she was like yeah and I was like oh...that was weird.
It was sketchy as, I proper heard someone calling my name.
But yeah...that's it from me for the time being.
Stay (sic) fuckers!!!!!
The R.I.P Entry
The R.I.P Paul Gray issue of Kerrang!Magazine is out, dedicated to Paul and Slipknt, and I got it today, courtesy of my mum. So I decided I'd do an R.I.P Blog entry. It's very sad. You know what, fuck this. He shouldn't have died. What I want to know is why the fuck was he alone? Why wasn't someone with him?
Slipknot wasn't your average band that puts out one album and steadily gets shittier every album after. They were getting better and better every time.
I cannot even begin to explain how...who they were to me. People say things like you don't even know them, you're just infatuated with them, they're just rockstars yadda, yadda, yadda.
As far as the first point goes, you're wrong. I do know them. Maybe I've never met them, but through their music I have learned them. I have experienced them. I have that connection. Maybe one day I will meet them, I pray I will, sadly I'll never meet Paul.
On the second point, no. I'm not infatuated with them, I am in love with them. And I don't mean like your average shitty little teenage crush with men she can never have, that's not the love I'm talking about.
I don't love them in the sense of 'oh yeah, I'd totally fuck him'. I wouldn't do that to any of them. It's more...familial?
Like, they're my brothers or my fathers or something. They looked after me without knowing it at a time when everyone else abandoned me. I don't know whether any of you understand the love that I'm talking about.
Through their music, they took my anger and my rage and turned into an energy so...profound and free and...I would come in from a shitty day at school, ignore the incessant bitching of my house (it wasn't a home at the time), slammed up to my room and listened to Slipknot. Some times I would self harm, some times I'd just lie there and either cry or stare into thin air. Almost every time I would fall asleep in their midst. Fully clothed, shoes and all. Sometimes I'd get really sore feet because it would have been raining and I wouldn't have taken my shoes of. It's a habit that I haven't managed to break yet.
Some may find it disgusting but...it's kind of hard to explain. At first it was just that I was too upset or angry to do anything other than just lie on my bed and I'd fall asleep and wake up and go to school. After a while it was a routine. If I just went straight to sleep I didn't have to deal with any of it.
And I started getting fatter and everything and eventually it got to the point where I couldn't bear to get changed because I didn't wanna have to see my body. I wasn't very high on the hygeine either...I now have a fear of baths...I'm better than I was but it still takes me a while before I can work myself up to having one.
It's actually getting worse again because I'm so fat at the moment. You never know, maybe if I lose weight it will make it easier for me to bathe. I don't know why but I have a very strange relationship with nudity.
At most times I'm disgusted by it, I don't like seeing the crude details of the human body, and yet most of my artwork centres around the female figure - mostly the breasts. I don't know why that is because I absolutely hate mine and if I could afford surgery I'd have them removed.
I don't know. sometimes I get into these strange moods of fascination, fascination in things I wouldn't normally be fascinated by...rotting meat for instance. Nudity. Sex. Death (although death I am almost always interested in). Bones. Torture.
All things that most people hate.
I don't know, maybe my wish to be thin isn't just about weight. Like, people wanna be thin so what? They can feel beautiful, they can get some self-confidence, so that people will look at them and notice them?
Yeah I'd feel more beautiful if I were thin and weight has always been a worry for me, I've been dieting most of my life with scant success. But...there's something else to it. I do not have an eating disorder, right? I know and understand that stick thin is not healthy and all that shit. It's not the desire to be thin that makes me wanna get down to what I admit is stupidly thin.
You know, in a lot of cases of anorexia (I acknowledge, not all), the person doesn't realise that they don't need to be that thin to be accepted which is what they start out wanting, it's only when the illness has taken control that they wanna push it as far as they can go.
That's not what it is for me. My perceptions aren't skewed by an eating disorder but still I want to go down that road. It's kind of difficult to explain and I might try later but I feel I've gone off track.
I was talking about Slipknot wasn't I? Uh...oh yeah, I'd come home from school and listen to them until I fell asleep. Yeah, then I'd get up and listen to them on my CD walkman full blast on the bus, wear my slipknot hoody to school for which I got bitched at by students and staff alike.
I point blank refused to do PE because I got bullied because I couldn't do something or I was a freak or whatever they chose to bitch about me for that particular day. I had been wearing my slipknot t shirt because I didn't have a standard PE kit...
So my bitch of a PE teacher turned round when I said I wasn't going to do PE and I had a note from mother saying because I was bullied...she turned round and said you cannot skip PE just because you do not want to wear a white tshirt.
I was like You fucking What?
Now bear in mind that the last few PE lessons I had taken part in I had been slagged off for being fat, slagged off for being a 'goth', tripped up with a hockey stick which fucked my wrist up, had a cricket ball thrown at my face and told that if I kicked this girl again (which I didn't do, I apologised for it because I was tackling her for the football) she would bash my face in. Among other things.
So I had a go. Teacher turned round and said take part and if they bully you come to me and I'll sort it out. Okay I says. So I take part. A group of girls that had it in for me for something that had nothing to do with them started so I went to Teacher and said look, they've been saying such and such.
You know what she said? IGNORE IT. And walked away.
So I went back to point blank refusing to do PE. Slipknot were my only companions at the time. I had no friends. All those who had apparently been there for me had turned their backs, some viciously.
So I dropped out of school for a year and literally my only human contacts my family and Slipknot. I listened to them evey single day.
Admittedly I was a bit obsessed but those of you who know the feeling I'm about to describe will understand why Slipknot appealed to me. It was like a pressure inside that would not stop building. A kettle boiling over, one of those cartoons where they go totally red in the face with anger and steam comes out their ears. I was consantly getting headaches. It twisted my guts up like a deformed cats cradle.
And here were these nine guys half the world away who stood up and screamed this is how I feel and this is what I think and I don't give a fuck what you say.
The first time I actually really clicked to Slipknot was a school morning, me and my sister Kim were watching Kerrang while we were waiting to go outside for the bus, and Duality came on.
The first lines, 'I push my fingers into my eyes, it's the only thing that slowly stops the ach.'
It was like they reached in and pulled something out of me.
An acquaintance who turned out to be a total skank bitch leant me Subliminal Verses. I listened to it over and over and over and over again. When she first leant it to me we put it on in my room and we were sat listening to it.
Most of it I was like 'oh yeah, this is cool'. It hadn't hit me how important it all was yet. Until it got to number 11. This is my all time favourite song and if you have not heard it, youtube it because it is beautiful.
Vol.3 : Subliminal Verses - #11 - Vermilion Prt 2.
She seemed dressed in all of me
Stretched across my shame
All the torment and the pain
Leak through and cover me
I'd do anything to have her to myself
Just to have her for myself
Now I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad
She is everything to me
The unrequited dream
A song that noone sings
The unattainable
She's a myth that I have to beleive in
All I need to make it real
Is one more reason
I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad
But I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
Catch in my throat, choke, torn into pieces
I won't, no, I don't want to be this
But I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
She isn't real, I can't make her real
She isn't real, I can't make her real
That was off the top of my head, I don't need to look the lyrics up, as soon as I heard this song those words and the sound of his voice, the melody, the harmony, the accoustic guitar, all of it, it was all engraved into my heart.
I'm glad it was dark in my room as we were listening (the light had gone bust and we hadn't got a new one yet), because I was crying.
From then I was hooked, it was like they had opened a floodgate inside and the only thing that could control it was their music.
I searched the net every day like I was possessed, trying to find out every single thing I could about them.
Their music was so real that I didn't want to just listen to their songs, I wanted to know the men behind the masks. I think I succeeded but still I don't fully know them. I guess I never will unless somehow in a remarkable twist of fate we become proper friends. (Ha yeah right!)
The point is, is that losing Paul, who the other guys said was the essence of Slipknot, was more than just losing an idol. It was more than just oh my god that guy in that band is dead, what a shame.
Losing Paul was like losing a close friend, losing a member of a really strange family, and losing a part of something inside of me.
They were like Gods for me, I practically worshipped them and though I have grown up a lot and matured a lot since I decided that they had to be divine, and I know they are simply extraodinary men now...they will always be a huge part of me and Slipknot will forever be a part of my life and will forever be my favourite band.
I will never stop listening to their songs even if I live to be 80 or 90 or 100.
Nothing will ever make me stop because they make me feel alive, they make me feel real and at a time when I question this reality and I don't feel real, I'm sure you can appreciate how important that feeling is.
This may well mark the end of Slipknot - it hasn't been announced whether they'll ever continue. Part of me wants them to because I love Slipknot, but part of me would hate it if they did...It's not Slipknot without Paul.
Loads of fans cry how Slipknot saved their lives or stopped them from killing themselves and all that and I'm not disputing that or anything...Slipknot didn't stop me from trying to kill myself. They didn't save me.
I don't think I can be saved. I tried to kill myself even with the life line they threw to me.
But they held me up for a long time. Things don't just go away because you have an awesome band to listen to. I clung to them like a child clings to her teddy bear.
Even now, when I'm down or pissed off I listen to them and I feel like part of the darkness is being torn away.
No matter how much I listen to them the darkness will always come back but they free me. They give me an energy that is fucking...it's unexplainable.
No matter what they decide now, I will stand behind them as I have done for the last 6/7 years.
Paul was one of the founding fathers of Slipknot and he was a loving and giving guy. He would do anything for the fans and has literally given the shirt off his back.
It makes me angry how he was such a good person and yet the ones in the lime light for being good people are the ones who jump on the bandwagon for publicity. (Admittedly this is not true for all celebrities but it is for a damn good number of them).
But I guess the best people are the ones who are just good because that's who they are and who don't need a lime light to show it.
I'm sad that I'll never get to meet him.
As I've said before Paul, you will be missed but never forgotten and always...ALWAYS LOVED!
Slipknot wasn't your average band that puts out one album and steadily gets shittier every album after. They were getting better and better every time.
I cannot even begin to explain how...who they were to me. People say things like you don't even know them, you're just infatuated with them, they're just rockstars yadda, yadda, yadda.
As far as the first point goes, you're wrong. I do know them. Maybe I've never met them, but through their music I have learned them. I have experienced them. I have that connection. Maybe one day I will meet them, I pray I will, sadly I'll never meet Paul.
On the second point, no. I'm not infatuated with them, I am in love with them. And I don't mean like your average shitty little teenage crush with men she can never have, that's not the love I'm talking about.
I don't love them in the sense of 'oh yeah, I'd totally fuck him'. I wouldn't do that to any of them. It's more...familial?
Like, they're my brothers or my fathers or something. They looked after me without knowing it at a time when everyone else abandoned me. I don't know whether any of you understand the love that I'm talking about.
Through their music, they took my anger and my rage and turned into an energy so...profound and free and...I would come in from a shitty day at school, ignore the incessant bitching of my house (it wasn't a home at the time), slammed up to my room and listened to Slipknot. Some times I would self harm, some times I'd just lie there and either cry or stare into thin air. Almost every time I would fall asleep in their midst. Fully clothed, shoes and all. Sometimes I'd get really sore feet because it would have been raining and I wouldn't have taken my shoes of. It's a habit that I haven't managed to break yet.
Some may find it disgusting but...it's kind of hard to explain. At first it was just that I was too upset or angry to do anything other than just lie on my bed and I'd fall asleep and wake up and go to school. After a while it was a routine. If I just went straight to sleep I didn't have to deal with any of it.
And I started getting fatter and everything and eventually it got to the point where I couldn't bear to get changed because I didn't wanna have to see my body. I wasn't very high on the hygeine either...I now have a fear of baths...I'm better than I was but it still takes me a while before I can work myself up to having one.
It's actually getting worse again because I'm so fat at the moment. You never know, maybe if I lose weight it will make it easier for me to bathe. I don't know why but I have a very strange relationship with nudity.
At most times I'm disgusted by it, I don't like seeing the crude details of the human body, and yet most of my artwork centres around the female figure - mostly the breasts. I don't know why that is because I absolutely hate mine and if I could afford surgery I'd have them removed.
I don't know. sometimes I get into these strange moods of fascination, fascination in things I wouldn't normally be fascinated by...rotting meat for instance. Nudity. Sex. Death (although death I am almost always interested in). Bones. Torture.
All things that most people hate.
I don't know, maybe my wish to be thin isn't just about weight. Like, people wanna be thin so what? They can feel beautiful, they can get some self-confidence, so that people will look at them and notice them?
Yeah I'd feel more beautiful if I were thin and weight has always been a worry for me, I've been dieting most of my life with scant success. But...there's something else to it. I do not have an eating disorder, right? I know and understand that stick thin is not healthy and all that shit. It's not the desire to be thin that makes me wanna get down to what I admit is stupidly thin.
You know, in a lot of cases of anorexia (I acknowledge, not all), the person doesn't realise that they don't need to be that thin to be accepted which is what they start out wanting, it's only when the illness has taken control that they wanna push it as far as they can go.
That's not what it is for me. My perceptions aren't skewed by an eating disorder but still I want to go down that road. It's kind of difficult to explain and I might try later but I feel I've gone off track.
I was talking about Slipknot wasn't I? Uh...oh yeah, I'd come home from school and listen to them until I fell asleep. Yeah, then I'd get up and listen to them on my CD walkman full blast on the bus, wear my slipknot hoody to school for which I got bitched at by students and staff alike.
I point blank refused to do PE because I got bullied because I couldn't do something or I was a freak or whatever they chose to bitch about me for that particular day. I had been wearing my slipknot t shirt because I didn't have a standard PE kit...
So my bitch of a PE teacher turned round when I said I wasn't going to do PE and I had a note from mother saying because I was bullied...she turned round and said you cannot skip PE just because you do not want to wear a white tshirt.
I was like You fucking What?
Now bear in mind that the last few PE lessons I had taken part in I had been slagged off for being fat, slagged off for being a 'goth', tripped up with a hockey stick which fucked my wrist up, had a cricket ball thrown at my face and told that if I kicked this girl again (which I didn't do, I apologised for it because I was tackling her for the football) she would bash my face in. Among other things.
So I had a go. Teacher turned round and said take part and if they bully you come to me and I'll sort it out. Okay I says. So I take part. A group of girls that had it in for me for something that had nothing to do with them started so I went to Teacher and said look, they've been saying such and such.
You know what she said? IGNORE IT. And walked away.
So I went back to point blank refusing to do PE. Slipknot were my only companions at the time. I had no friends. All those who had apparently been there for me had turned their backs, some viciously.
So I dropped out of school for a year and literally my only human contacts my family and Slipknot. I listened to them evey single day.
Admittedly I was a bit obsessed but those of you who know the feeling I'm about to describe will understand why Slipknot appealed to me. It was like a pressure inside that would not stop building. A kettle boiling over, one of those cartoons where they go totally red in the face with anger and steam comes out their ears. I was consantly getting headaches. It twisted my guts up like a deformed cats cradle.
And here were these nine guys half the world away who stood up and screamed this is how I feel and this is what I think and I don't give a fuck what you say.
The first time I actually really clicked to Slipknot was a school morning, me and my sister Kim were watching Kerrang while we were waiting to go outside for the bus, and Duality came on.
The first lines, 'I push my fingers into my eyes, it's the only thing that slowly stops the ach.'
It was like they reached in and pulled something out of me.
An acquaintance who turned out to be a total skank bitch leant me Subliminal Verses. I listened to it over and over and over and over again. When she first leant it to me we put it on in my room and we were sat listening to it.
Most of it I was like 'oh yeah, this is cool'. It hadn't hit me how important it all was yet. Until it got to number 11. This is my all time favourite song and if you have not heard it, youtube it because it is beautiful.
Vol.3 : Subliminal Verses - #11 - Vermilion Prt 2.
She seemed dressed in all of me
Stretched across my shame
All the torment and the pain
Leak through and cover me
I'd do anything to have her to myself
Just to have her for myself
Now I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad
She is everything to me
The unrequited dream
A song that noone sings
The unattainable
She's a myth that I have to beleive in
All I need to make it real
Is one more reason
I don't know what to do
I don't know what to do
When she makes me sad
But I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
Catch in my throat, choke, torn into pieces
I won't, no, I don't want to be this
But I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
I won't let this build up inside of me
She isn't real, I can't make her real
She isn't real, I can't make her real
That was off the top of my head, I don't need to look the lyrics up, as soon as I heard this song those words and the sound of his voice, the melody, the harmony, the accoustic guitar, all of it, it was all engraved into my heart.
I'm glad it was dark in my room as we were listening (the light had gone bust and we hadn't got a new one yet), because I was crying.
From then I was hooked, it was like they had opened a floodgate inside and the only thing that could control it was their music.
I searched the net every day like I was possessed, trying to find out every single thing I could about them.
Their music was so real that I didn't want to just listen to their songs, I wanted to know the men behind the masks. I think I succeeded but still I don't fully know them. I guess I never will unless somehow in a remarkable twist of fate we become proper friends. (Ha yeah right!)
The point is, is that losing Paul, who the other guys said was the essence of Slipknot, was more than just losing an idol. It was more than just oh my god that guy in that band is dead, what a shame.
Losing Paul was like losing a close friend, losing a member of a really strange family, and losing a part of something inside of me.
They were like Gods for me, I practically worshipped them and though I have grown up a lot and matured a lot since I decided that they had to be divine, and I know they are simply extraodinary men now...they will always be a huge part of me and Slipknot will forever be a part of my life and will forever be my favourite band.
I will never stop listening to their songs even if I live to be 80 or 90 or 100.
Nothing will ever make me stop because they make me feel alive, they make me feel real and at a time when I question this reality and I don't feel real, I'm sure you can appreciate how important that feeling is.
This may well mark the end of Slipknot - it hasn't been announced whether they'll ever continue. Part of me wants them to because I love Slipknot, but part of me would hate it if they did...It's not Slipknot without Paul.
Loads of fans cry how Slipknot saved their lives or stopped them from killing themselves and all that and I'm not disputing that or anything...Slipknot didn't stop me from trying to kill myself. They didn't save me.
I don't think I can be saved. I tried to kill myself even with the life line they threw to me.
But they held me up for a long time. Things don't just go away because you have an awesome band to listen to. I clung to them like a child clings to her teddy bear.
Even now, when I'm down or pissed off I listen to them and I feel like part of the darkness is being torn away.
No matter how much I listen to them the darkness will always come back but they free me. They give me an energy that is fucking...it's unexplainable.
No matter what they decide now, I will stand behind them as I have done for the last 6/7 years.
Paul was one of the founding fathers of Slipknot and he was a loving and giving guy. He would do anything for the fans and has literally given the shirt off his back.
It makes me angry how he was such a good person and yet the ones in the lime light for being good people are the ones who jump on the bandwagon for publicity. (Admittedly this is not true for all celebrities but it is for a damn good number of them).
But I guess the best people are the ones who are just good because that's who they are and who don't need a lime light to show it.
I'm sad that I'll never get to meet him.
As I've said before Paul, you will be missed but never forgotten and always...ALWAYS LOVED!
Friday, 4 June 2010
My highly evolved brain
I was sat in the garden earlier with my mum and my sister, and my sister said how no one ever bothers listening to me cos all they hear is blah, blah, blah.
You know what. She's just jealous cos I got such a better brain than her. Not that she's stupid. She just doesn't think like I do and I think it pisses her off cos she's older than me so she's supposed to have all the 'oh my god' epiphany moments.
I think my brain is like...a mutation or something. Like...I have all these ideas that seem fucking stupidly simple to me and yet no one else seems to get it.
Or like I'll be explaining something and no one will understand what I'm saying they'll just ask what the fuck I'm on about.
I feel kinda sorry for them.
Like people say oh I wish I had a magic power or if you had a magic power what would it be and all that. Well I have one. It's not a magic power as such it's just my BRAIN. Cos I think so differently to everyone else.
I drew a picture the other day that represents my head so to speak. In the centre is a black figure, and coming out one side of its neck is a blue head that's sad and crying and on the other side of its neck is a red head that's all rah and angry.
Maybe that's why they put me in the programme, they want my brain. That's not very fair if you ask me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I have a better brain than anyone else, I'm simply saying that mine's different, that's all.
I sometimes think that my brain isn't a human brain.
I wish I could get scans of it or something. I'd love to see it. I feel kind of rude calling my brain it. After all, my brain is what makes me, me. Maybe I should give it a name. Hmm.
Well, when I'm having my on/off moments with the little girl in my head, I have a tendancy to call her Nancy. I think I'll name my brain after her, I'm sure she'll be pleased.
Although, it would mean I'd have to specify whether I was talking about Nancy (the brain) or Nancy (the little girl).
Okay, Here's how it works. Nancy as in the little girl will be Nancy. Nancy as in the brain will be NaNcY.
There. Simples.
I feel kind of sorry for Nancy. She gets abused. She's only little, no little girl should be abused. Little girls are supposed to be looked after and stuff.
She's a bit strange though. Not that I'm one to talk, haha.
She has some unusual ideas. But then, so does NaNcY so I guess they make a good pair.
can't think of anything else to say really
You know what. She's just jealous cos I got such a better brain than her. Not that she's stupid. She just doesn't think like I do and I think it pisses her off cos she's older than me so she's supposed to have all the 'oh my god' epiphany moments.
I think my brain is like...a mutation or something. Like...I have all these ideas that seem fucking stupidly simple to me and yet no one else seems to get it.
Or like I'll be explaining something and no one will understand what I'm saying they'll just ask what the fuck I'm on about.
I feel kinda sorry for them.
Like people say oh I wish I had a magic power or if you had a magic power what would it be and all that. Well I have one. It's not a magic power as such it's just my BRAIN. Cos I think so differently to everyone else.
I drew a picture the other day that represents my head so to speak. In the centre is a black figure, and coming out one side of its neck is a blue head that's sad and crying and on the other side of its neck is a red head that's all rah and angry.
Maybe that's why they put me in the programme, they want my brain. That's not very fair if you ask me.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I have a better brain than anyone else, I'm simply saying that mine's different, that's all.
I sometimes think that my brain isn't a human brain.
I wish I could get scans of it or something. I'd love to see it. I feel kind of rude calling my brain it. After all, my brain is what makes me, me. Maybe I should give it a name. Hmm.
Well, when I'm having my on/off moments with the little girl in my head, I have a tendancy to call her Nancy. I think I'll name my brain after her, I'm sure she'll be pleased.
Although, it would mean I'd have to specify whether I was talking about Nancy (the brain) or Nancy (the little girl).
Okay, Here's how it works. Nancy as in the little girl will be Nancy. Nancy as in the brain will be NaNcY.
There. Simples.
I feel kind of sorry for Nancy. She gets abused. She's only little, no little girl should be abused. Little girls are supposed to be looked after and stuff.
She's a bit strange though. Not that I'm one to talk, haha.
She has some unusual ideas. But then, so does NaNcY so I guess they make a good pair.
can't think of anything else to say really
As days go by
Days blur into one long event when I don't have anything to do.
I apologise for how ridiculously long my last post was. Sketchy lol.
I cleaned the kitchen, cleaned my room and did some washing today. For a total slob that is like...huge. So I'm pretty pleased with myself for that.
So far today I've had a bowl of lettuce and cucumber and a banana. I had a little too much yesterday so I'm gonna try and not eat anything else today.
Dropped a lb.
I'm such a disgusting weight at the moment I'm not even going to tell you. When I've lost half a stone or something, then I might tell you, but not yet.
It's disgusting, honestly.
Fat Piggy.
I keep thinking 'what if I stay fat forever?' 'What if I die fat?'...I don't wanna be fat forever and I definitely don't wanna die fat.
This is like...urgent. I HAVE to lose all this weight. I used to be able to feel my hip bones when I lie down, now I can't even do that. I can't feel any of my bones. All I can feel is flab...FAT. It's so disgusting. Makes me wanna puke.
I have a ridiculously strong stomach though which is probably a good thing cos I swear to god if I was really like...squeamish or whatever, I would probably be puking every single fucking day, that's how disgustingly fat I am.
I'm on thin ice at the moment. I know that if something goes wrong now, I'm not gonna be able to take it.
It's like I'm balancing on the edge of the precipice (sp?) - the slightest breeze and I'll fall.
It's not that important though, the way things stand inside, I might just fucking jump.
I know there'll be people who read this and say oh for fuck sake just do it already.
Don't waste your breath.
If I had enough pills, I'd be taking them.
This is what we call 'biding time'.
I don't wanna be fat when I die, so I'm going to bide my time until I'm thin and then I'll think about it. If I try figuring that out at the same time as everything else, I'll just draw a big blank.
There's only so much moping you can do before you run out of things to say though so...I'll be off until I have something to type about.
I apologise for how ridiculously long my last post was. Sketchy lol.
I cleaned the kitchen, cleaned my room and did some washing today. For a total slob that is like...huge. So I'm pretty pleased with myself for that.
So far today I've had a bowl of lettuce and cucumber and a banana. I had a little too much yesterday so I'm gonna try and not eat anything else today.
Dropped a lb.
I'm such a disgusting weight at the moment I'm not even going to tell you. When I've lost half a stone or something, then I might tell you, but not yet.
It's disgusting, honestly.
Fat Piggy.
I keep thinking 'what if I stay fat forever?' 'What if I die fat?'...I don't wanna be fat forever and I definitely don't wanna die fat.
This is like...urgent. I HAVE to lose all this weight. I used to be able to feel my hip bones when I lie down, now I can't even do that. I can't feel any of my bones. All I can feel is flab...FAT. It's so disgusting. Makes me wanna puke.
I have a ridiculously strong stomach though which is probably a good thing cos I swear to god if I was really like...squeamish or whatever, I would probably be puking every single fucking day, that's how disgustingly fat I am.
I'm on thin ice at the moment. I know that if something goes wrong now, I'm not gonna be able to take it.
It's like I'm balancing on the edge of the precipice (sp?) - the slightest breeze and I'll fall.
It's not that important though, the way things stand inside, I might just fucking jump.
I know there'll be people who read this and say oh for fuck sake just do it already.
Don't waste your breath.
If I had enough pills, I'd be taking them.
This is what we call 'biding time'.
I don't wanna be fat when I die, so I'm going to bide my time until I'm thin and then I'll think about it. If I try figuring that out at the same time as everything else, I'll just draw a big blank.
There's only so much moping you can do before you run out of things to say though so...I'll be off until I have something to type about.
Dance, magic dance
The title is a song from one of my favourite movies, the Labyrinth with David Bowie as the Goblin King.
Speaking of movies, I just watched one called Centre Stage and it was really good - talk about thinspo though. It's about this group of friends in a ballet academy.
*sigh* I wanted to learn Ballet, but mother said I didn't have the right body and I didn't start young enough.
So even if I was stick thin and started right now I'd never be a good dancer.
I'm not all that graceful either. I've often thought of figure skating but I suppose you have to start learning that young too...and you'd have to be graceful for that as well.
I guess I'm never gonna be anything that requires grace...which is a shame because I love the concept of graceful movement...just movement in general.
It's five to one in the morning as I'm typing this. I slept most of the day and have since drank almost an entire 1litre bottle of Dart which is a red bull wannabe...so I'm rather awake.
I've been a disgusting pig as far as calories go but I'm refusing to let it bug me because I'll just do better tomorrow. I know how I can stop myself eating to much.
In my previous post (I think, my memories shit at the moment) I said about the conversation I had with mother about eating when I'm bored. Well in return she said 'you should find something to do then'. I think I've realised what I shall do. Read.
I was reading Wasted the other day by Marya Hornbacher, and she wrote how when she was little she used to do nothing but read books. That's what I was like. It's amazing how much I have in common with her.
I just have to get more books to read. Unfortunately the library in my hometown is shite, so I'd have to go into town to get anything decent...which means leaving the house...which I'm reluctant to do...
I'll have to anyway when college starts again but I have to find books to read until then...
Could prove troublesome but I'll manage it. I have the whole collection of Sherlock Holmes to read...and I could always read Wasted again.
Marya did this thing where she read all these books and then she wrote down her favourite quotes. I might do that.
That'll pass the time. I can make a list of all the things I can do with my time so as not to eat so much. If all else fails I can just make list after list even if I never complete them all.
I'll write poems and paint and draw and read. Anything and everything to keep myself busy...
I need something...anything to keep my mind from eating me alive. Seriously, it's totally consuming me. Unfortunately art of any kind is a window but at the same time it's therapuetic so...
At school, drawing was the only way other than hurting myself that I could get all the chaos inside of me out.
Now though, it's a different kind of chaos and drawing doesn't work so well.
My god I am so awake and I can't really do anything because it's so frickin quiet.
I have so many ideas man. So many. And it's really pissing me off because I'll never get to do any of them. Like I have this idea for a film that's a cross between a ballet and an opera/musical. Not only that, but it's totally masquerade. The masks are central to the story.
Even if I survive the hell inside of me...I don't think realistically that I could do any of the things that I dream about...save one.
The only thing that's been with me my entire life and the only thing that I'm remotely good at.
Writing. And not only that...There's writing in all the other things I dream of doing. There's writing in film, there's writing with photography, there's writing in songs etc etc etc.
I don't know, but my therapist in malborough house, he said I was a really good writer and that he could talk because he had a degree in english and he said that I shouldn't ever give it up. Sad, I can't remember his name, I'll have to ask mum.
He was cute though lol. He had lovely eyes.
It is actually driving me nuts right now how quiet it is. I'd go for a walk but a) I might wake everyone else up and b) that would mean going out...which I don't really wanna do.
Just put some music on so it's not quite so quiet. Ah 'Feathery Wings' by Voltaire. Gorgeous song.
You lost at sea
Do you need me?
Do you need directions?
Hey put down the gun
What are you thinking
You were someone's son
The taste of tears
The sting of pain
The smell of fear
The sounds of crying oh
I have quite a few books...Lots in fact. If life goes splendid, which I doubt it will, I fully intend on having a house big enough so that I can have my own personal library and not just a skimpy collection of books, I mean book shelves lining the walls with a moving ladder and comfy chairs and everything. The works.
Never gonna happen but it's a nice fantasy.
The weather's foul at the moment.
Well...not quite foul...It's just it annoys me when it's sunny. I don't like wearing skimpy clothes because I don't particularly like my body...and right now I consider anything less than jeans and a t-shirt to be skimpy...and I get irritable when I'm hot.
Another thing that I hate is that everyone's always oh be happy, come outside, it's sunny.
You know what? Things do not suddenly become hunky dory just because the fucking sun decides to shine.
I'm not going to be all happy and smiles and fine just because it's bright outside. The sun does not magically erase all the shit inside of me and I can't just tell everything to fuck off and come back another day because I want to enjoy the sun, I'm sorry but it doesn't work that way.
My sister hates me for it because she loves the sun. She's always fucking going on about her SAD and all that. Yeah, we get it, you're happier when the suns shining, good for you.
And then when it's raining she gets all miserable and starts complaining non stop about her SAD and how she can't do anything because of her SAD and rah rah rah.
You know what, I appreciate that people suffer from that and it drags you down or whatever but it doesn't mean you have to dump it on everyone else.
It's like she automatically expects everyone to fall over themselves for her any time...and it's not just her SAD it's EVERYTHING.
She acts like she's so fucking hard done by. I know this might seem like a perfect time to call my a hypocrite given what I write on my blog, but that's what blogs are for. People rant and rave on blogs. She doesn't confine her mopiness to a blog however, she fucking sits there and whines all the fucking time and it does my head in.
Yeah, right now I'm whining I guess, but this is a fucking blog. You don't have to read it. But she sits there and whines and moans and oh woe is me such a hard life all the fucking time whether people wanna listen or not.
And if you say the slightest thing against her it just adds to how fucking hard done by she thinks she is.
My god she makes me so fucking angry some times. And she is so fucking selfish at times. She expects everyone to drop everything for her and run around after her and if you don't you're being a bitch but then she doesn't do anything in return.
Like for instance, when we switched rooms the agreement was, you help me with my room I'll help you with yours. Well I helped her with hers. I helped move her stuff in I helped strip the wall paper and I helped paint. Did she help me with my room? No. She shoved my stuff in, in awkward piles, and then said she'd help when university finished. Well she's off for the summer now and where is she? At her fucking boyfriends house.
She's always getting me to fetch things for her or go over the shop and yet she doesn't ever do things like that for me.
She had a on-her-high-horse go at me for starting smoking and oh-you're-so-stupid and all that bollocks, and yet three months after supposedly quitting and aren't I fucking fantastic, she starts up again and still says I'm stupid for smoking.
She's allowed to constantly complain about how shit her life is going yet she can dictate what I'm supposed to do with mine, she can sit there and tell me all this horse shit about just fucking dealing with it and yet she walks around as if she's fucking heroicly bearing the worlds troubles on her shoulders.
Makes me so fucking mad. See, that's what still being awake at half one in the morning does to you. Makes ya moody. Or at least, it makes me moody.
Wow, I've been zoned in to what I'm writing so much that I completely missed one of the songs on my playlist. I do that so often. I'm so involved with whatever I'm doing that I can't hear anything else, or I totally zone out, like I'll be thinking about something so hard that I just won't hear anything.
I like doing that. If I can hear everything that's going on it makes me skittish and edgy.
But then so does being bored. Although being bored depends on what mood I'm in cos if I'm down and moody being bored just makes me sleepy, but if I'm in a specific do-y mood then not doing anything makes me twitch. Lol. Kinda hard to explain but hopefully you get what I mean.
I might write a book kind of like 'Wasted'. I think I could do that...I've only really written one book in first person so it could prove an interesting challenge.
The only thing is Marya wrote it whilst looking back on what had happened...If I were to write about whatever thing I'm experiencing...well, it hasn't finished yet. So instead of looking back on it, I'd be writing it as I go.
Not sure how that'd work.
A year in the life of a...
What am I? I've never been diagnosed as anything, I've never been hospitalised seriously, yes I've attempted suicide but only twice...yeah you could call me a self harmer but it's not all that serious.
So there's not really anything there, you know?
Marya was specifically writing about her eating disorder and its affect on her life.
I haven't been told by a medical expert 'You have this disorder', so I can't write a book claiming that I have any disorder. (Not that I'm saying I think I do have any kind of disorder, I'm simply saying that people who write books like these are writing it in the view of a disordered person whereas I don't have that basis.)
Maybe I'll start it out as notes and research and stuff and then if I 'make it' I can figure out something to base it around later.
Sounds like a plan.
I had an idea ages ago that I'd start a proper scrapbook, like some times in films and stuff, like in the ring 2 I think it was, you have the main characters finding a scrap book and it revealing an important part of the story line.
Image and text, image and text, image and text.
It'll have everything. Little doodles. Stickers. Poems. Thoughts. Everything a good scrapbook is supposed to have.
And then, if I ever really do do a book like Wasted, I can include pictures of the scrapbook, as well as pictures of art and things.
Sounds like a plan to me ^_^
Of course...all this hangs on whether I actually make it or not.
Wow. Now there's a story line. A girl kills herself and all she left behind her was a scrap book. I don't know who would become the main character but then they'd have to retrace the girls life using this scrap book, to figure out why she did it.
And in the end they'd never know because it was the demons in her head that she couldn't reflect onto a page that killed her and all she really wanted was to tell her story.
That'll give me something to do. I'll write that as a story, that'll stop me eating so much...when I'm writing, I can go for fucking hours without moving, let alone eating anything.
Well, it's almost 2 AM and I hate to think how long this post it so I'm gonna fuck off and start this story.
Laters.
Speaking of movies, I just watched one called Centre Stage and it was really good - talk about thinspo though. It's about this group of friends in a ballet academy.
*sigh* I wanted to learn Ballet, but mother said I didn't have the right body and I didn't start young enough.
So even if I was stick thin and started right now I'd never be a good dancer.
I'm not all that graceful either. I've often thought of figure skating but I suppose you have to start learning that young too...and you'd have to be graceful for that as well.
I guess I'm never gonna be anything that requires grace...which is a shame because I love the concept of graceful movement...just movement in general.
It's five to one in the morning as I'm typing this. I slept most of the day and have since drank almost an entire 1litre bottle of Dart which is a red bull wannabe...so I'm rather awake.
I've been a disgusting pig as far as calories go but I'm refusing to let it bug me because I'll just do better tomorrow. I know how I can stop myself eating to much.
In my previous post (I think, my memories shit at the moment) I said about the conversation I had with mother about eating when I'm bored. Well in return she said 'you should find something to do then'. I think I've realised what I shall do. Read.
I was reading Wasted the other day by Marya Hornbacher, and she wrote how when she was little she used to do nothing but read books. That's what I was like. It's amazing how much I have in common with her.
I just have to get more books to read. Unfortunately the library in my hometown is shite, so I'd have to go into town to get anything decent...which means leaving the house...which I'm reluctant to do...
I'll have to anyway when college starts again but I have to find books to read until then...
Could prove troublesome but I'll manage it. I have the whole collection of Sherlock Holmes to read...and I could always read Wasted again.
Marya did this thing where she read all these books and then she wrote down her favourite quotes. I might do that.
That'll pass the time. I can make a list of all the things I can do with my time so as not to eat so much. If all else fails I can just make list after list even if I never complete them all.
I'll write poems and paint and draw and read. Anything and everything to keep myself busy...
I need something...anything to keep my mind from eating me alive. Seriously, it's totally consuming me. Unfortunately art of any kind is a window but at the same time it's therapuetic so...
At school, drawing was the only way other than hurting myself that I could get all the chaos inside of me out.
Now though, it's a different kind of chaos and drawing doesn't work so well.
My god I am so awake and I can't really do anything because it's so frickin quiet.
I have so many ideas man. So many. And it's really pissing me off because I'll never get to do any of them. Like I have this idea for a film that's a cross between a ballet and an opera/musical. Not only that, but it's totally masquerade. The masks are central to the story.
Even if I survive the hell inside of me...I don't think realistically that I could do any of the things that I dream about...save one.
The only thing that's been with me my entire life and the only thing that I'm remotely good at.
Writing. And not only that...There's writing in all the other things I dream of doing. There's writing in film, there's writing with photography, there's writing in songs etc etc etc.
I don't know, but my therapist in malborough house, he said I was a really good writer and that he could talk because he had a degree in english and he said that I shouldn't ever give it up. Sad, I can't remember his name, I'll have to ask mum.
He was cute though lol. He had lovely eyes.
It is actually driving me nuts right now how quiet it is. I'd go for a walk but a) I might wake everyone else up and b) that would mean going out...which I don't really wanna do.
Just put some music on so it's not quite so quiet. Ah 'Feathery Wings' by Voltaire. Gorgeous song.
You lost at sea
Do you need me?
Do you need directions?
Hey put down the gun
What are you thinking
You were someone's son
The taste of tears
The sting of pain
The smell of fear
The sounds of crying oh
I have quite a few books...Lots in fact. If life goes splendid, which I doubt it will, I fully intend on having a house big enough so that I can have my own personal library and not just a skimpy collection of books, I mean book shelves lining the walls with a moving ladder and comfy chairs and everything. The works.
Never gonna happen but it's a nice fantasy.
The weather's foul at the moment.
Well...not quite foul...It's just it annoys me when it's sunny. I don't like wearing skimpy clothes because I don't particularly like my body...and right now I consider anything less than jeans and a t-shirt to be skimpy...and I get irritable when I'm hot.
Another thing that I hate is that everyone's always oh be happy, come outside, it's sunny.
You know what? Things do not suddenly become hunky dory just because the fucking sun decides to shine.
I'm not going to be all happy and smiles and fine just because it's bright outside. The sun does not magically erase all the shit inside of me and I can't just tell everything to fuck off and come back another day because I want to enjoy the sun, I'm sorry but it doesn't work that way.
My sister hates me for it because she loves the sun. She's always fucking going on about her SAD and all that. Yeah, we get it, you're happier when the suns shining, good for you.
And then when it's raining she gets all miserable and starts complaining non stop about her SAD and how she can't do anything because of her SAD and rah rah rah.
You know what, I appreciate that people suffer from that and it drags you down or whatever but it doesn't mean you have to dump it on everyone else.
It's like she automatically expects everyone to fall over themselves for her any time...and it's not just her SAD it's EVERYTHING.
She acts like she's so fucking hard done by. I know this might seem like a perfect time to call my a hypocrite given what I write on my blog, but that's what blogs are for. People rant and rave on blogs. She doesn't confine her mopiness to a blog however, she fucking sits there and whines all the fucking time and it does my head in.
Yeah, right now I'm whining I guess, but this is a fucking blog. You don't have to read it. But she sits there and whines and moans and oh woe is me such a hard life all the fucking time whether people wanna listen or not.
And if you say the slightest thing against her it just adds to how fucking hard done by she thinks she is.
My god she makes me so fucking angry some times. And she is so fucking selfish at times. She expects everyone to drop everything for her and run around after her and if you don't you're being a bitch but then she doesn't do anything in return.
Like for instance, when we switched rooms the agreement was, you help me with my room I'll help you with yours. Well I helped her with hers. I helped move her stuff in I helped strip the wall paper and I helped paint. Did she help me with my room? No. She shoved my stuff in, in awkward piles, and then said she'd help when university finished. Well she's off for the summer now and where is she? At her fucking boyfriends house.
She's always getting me to fetch things for her or go over the shop and yet she doesn't ever do things like that for me.
She had a on-her-high-horse go at me for starting smoking and oh-you're-so-stupid and all that bollocks, and yet three months after supposedly quitting and aren't I fucking fantastic, she starts up again and still says I'm stupid for smoking.
She's allowed to constantly complain about how shit her life is going yet she can dictate what I'm supposed to do with mine, she can sit there and tell me all this horse shit about just fucking dealing with it and yet she walks around as if she's fucking heroicly bearing the worlds troubles on her shoulders.
Makes me so fucking mad. See, that's what still being awake at half one in the morning does to you. Makes ya moody. Or at least, it makes me moody.
Wow, I've been zoned in to what I'm writing so much that I completely missed one of the songs on my playlist. I do that so often. I'm so involved with whatever I'm doing that I can't hear anything else, or I totally zone out, like I'll be thinking about something so hard that I just won't hear anything.
I like doing that. If I can hear everything that's going on it makes me skittish and edgy.
But then so does being bored. Although being bored depends on what mood I'm in cos if I'm down and moody being bored just makes me sleepy, but if I'm in a specific do-y mood then not doing anything makes me twitch. Lol. Kinda hard to explain but hopefully you get what I mean.
I might write a book kind of like 'Wasted'. I think I could do that...I've only really written one book in first person so it could prove an interesting challenge.
The only thing is Marya wrote it whilst looking back on what had happened...If I were to write about whatever thing I'm experiencing...well, it hasn't finished yet. So instead of looking back on it, I'd be writing it as I go.
Not sure how that'd work.
A year in the life of a...
What am I? I've never been diagnosed as anything, I've never been hospitalised seriously, yes I've attempted suicide but only twice...yeah you could call me a self harmer but it's not all that serious.
So there's not really anything there, you know?
Marya was specifically writing about her eating disorder and its affect on her life.
I haven't been told by a medical expert 'You have this disorder', so I can't write a book claiming that I have any disorder. (Not that I'm saying I think I do have any kind of disorder, I'm simply saying that people who write books like these are writing it in the view of a disordered person whereas I don't have that basis.)
Maybe I'll start it out as notes and research and stuff and then if I 'make it' I can figure out something to base it around later.
Sounds like a plan.
I had an idea ages ago that I'd start a proper scrapbook, like some times in films and stuff, like in the ring 2 I think it was, you have the main characters finding a scrap book and it revealing an important part of the story line.
Image and text, image and text, image and text.
It'll have everything. Little doodles. Stickers. Poems. Thoughts. Everything a good scrapbook is supposed to have.
And then, if I ever really do do a book like Wasted, I can include pictures of the scrapbook, as well as pictures of art and things.
Sounds like a plan to me ^_^
Of course...all this hangs on whether I actually make it or not.
Wow. Now there's a story line. A girl kills herself and all she left behind her was a scrap book. I don't know who would become the main character but then they'd have to retrace the girls life using this scrap book, to figure out why she did it.
And in the end they'd never know because it was the demons in her head that she couldn't reflect onto a page that killed her and all she really wanted was to tell her story.
That'll give me something to do. I'll write that as a story, that'll stop me eating so much...when I'm writing, I can go for fucking hours without moving, let alone eating anything.
Well, it's almost 2 AM and I hate to think how long this post it so I'm gonna fuck off and start this story.
Laters.
Thursday, 3 June 2010
Dazed and Abused
"Disrespect me cos I'm ugly
Don't give me your stupid pity"
Oh my God, I just remembered something as I was thinking how to start this blog. It was a few weeks ago though. I was writing on here, and my mum asked who I was talking to (because I'm usually talking on MSN) and I said I'm not I'm writing on my blog and she said I didn't know you had a blog, you'll have to give me the site so I can take a look. And I was like... Uh...
And she asked what it was about and I said it was just where I ranted and she said Oh, perhaps I won't look then. Breathe a sigh of relief. I don't mind if she wanted to take a look since there's nothing she can do to change the way I think, it's just I now what I've written on here would upset her. I don't upset mother unless I have to.
But she pissed me off a bit today. She has these little slimfast milkshakes she takes to work for her lunch and I said when I start college again can you get some for me and she was like do you know how expensive they are.
That translates as a No.
Which infuraited me purely for the fact that when my eldest sister is all oh I wanna lose weight she makes lists that mum gets in the shopping but when I want something oh no it's too expensive.
She's just trying to keep me fat because I'm the fattest in the house at the moment and it makes them feel better about themselves to have someone fatter around.
Well sorry folks but it's not gonna fucking stay that way. A day will come soon that you will be crying your hearts out at how much thinner I am than you!
I'm usually not this competitive but it makes me mad that they moan at me for complaining about being fat and not doing anything about it but then they won't support me when I do decide to do something about it.
Inconsistant.
I told my first proper ED lie today. (I'm not saying I have an ED, just that this was the kind of lie that I know for a fact ED sufferers use). I was makin myself a bowl of lettuce and cucumber and my mum was like I don't think that'll be very filling and I said Oh I already ate, tonnes, been eating most of the day, cos I get bored y'know, and I eat when I'm bored.
Since for most of my life I've eaten out of either emotion or boredom, it wasn't that hard a lie to tell. She bought it.
She has no reason not to. She'll only start worrying when I'm visibly loosing weight.
Though I would hate to worry her (a worry unfounded I might add because I'm not doing it dangerously or anything), she won't be able to do a damn thing about it because I'm over 18. Ha. Ha ha.
I hate a thinspo playlist which I'm listening to...has some good songs on it, like Never Good Enough which I know quite a few people on here like. The playlist is called Goo. Lol. ot a very good name I admit, but I can't exactly have it called Thinspo for all to see now can I. That'll give everyone the wrong impression.
I mean...people wanting to lose weight normally can look at thinspo and stuff. It says in slimmer magazines that you do better if you have motivation like a piece of clothing you wanna fit into or something. So anyone can look at thinspo not just ED people.
I have this top that's my physical motivation. It was a top my friend bought me for my birthday (early birthday present) just before I went to see Slipknot live, and it says Mrs Corey Taylor. (For those who don't know, Corey Taylor is the lead singer of Slipknot and Stone Sour).
I can fit into it but it's in that style where you really need a good figure to pull it off. It makes me bulge in all the wrong places. I generally bulge in all the wrong places anyway, but I wanna be able to wear it, so...the lbs must come off.
Watched 28 Days today. It's a film about rehab with Sandra Bullock. It's a good film.
Got my interview at college on Wednesday. Joy. I don't even wanna fucking go back to college but mum will go apeshit if I don't. And she'd want me to get a full time job instead. Don't want one of those either.
Everyone keeps shoving life in my face as if that'll make me deal with all the shit in my head but it's just making it ten times fucking worse.
"You won't save me
Cos I'm not the fortunate one"
For some people the best way to deal with things is to throw themselves into their work or whatever.
Well that doesn't work for me because when something's bothering me, it distracts me so that whatever I'm working on comes out shit which just pisses me off even more and then I'm worse off than I was to begin with.
I need everything to stop and since that's not a practical demand to make, there's only one option left.
Anyone who could feel what I'm feeling would get it.
And it's no use telling me that other people are going through worse than I am because a) it doesn't make it easier and b) they're not because they're not real. None of this is real and it's all I can think about...that and food and what I really wanna do is get the fuck out of here.
It's like a complete loony episode here and I want out.
There was a kid stood on the roof of a building and people were encouraging him to jump. There was a girl who was beaten along with her boyfriend into a coma. The boyfriend woke up, she didn't. Her dreads had been torn out and everything.
Children are dying just cos they don't have clean water and there are people in hollywood complaining that they only get such and such million a year.
There are parents who beat the living shit out of their children and men who fly planes full of innocent people into the ground and fathers who rape their daughters and mothers who rape their sons and sisters who get drunk and sleep with anyone who comes along and brothers who gets high every day.
The list is endless, it just goes on and on and fucking on.
And it's all true, it all happens.
So why the fuck would I wanna stay here. It's too fucking sick to be real. Someone has stuck me here and is forcing me to experience it...punishment, experiment, pleasure, who the fuck knows.
But I know this isn't the real world and I know I don't belong here.
I will find a way to wake up and I'll fucking kill them.
Don't give me your stupid pity"
Oh my God, I just remembered something as I was thinking how to start this blog. It was a few weeks ago though. I was writing on here, and my mum asked who I was talking to (because I'm usually talking on MSN) and I said I'm not I'm writing on my blog and she said I didn't know you had a blog, you'll have to give me the site so I can take a look. And I was like... Uh...
And she asked what it was about and I said it was just where I ranted and she said Oh, perhaps I won't look then. Breathe a sigh of relief. I don't mind if she wanted to take a look since there's nothing she can do to change the way I think, it's just I now what I've written on here would upset her. I don't upset mother unless I have to.
But she pissed me off a bit today. She has these little slimfast milkshakes she takes to work for her lunch and I said when I start college again can you get some for me and she was like do you know how expensive they are.
That translates as a No.
Which infuraited me purely for the fact that when my eldest sister is all oh I wanna lose weight she makes lists that mum gets in the shopping but when I want something oh no it's too expensive.
She's just trying to keep me fat because I'm the fattest in the house at the moment and it makes them feel better about themselves to have someone fatter around.
Well sorry folks but it's not gonna fucking stay that way. A day will come soon that you will be crying your hearts out at how much thinner I am than you!
I'm usually not this competitive but it makes me mad that they moan at me for complaining about being fat and not doing anything about it but then they won't support me when I do decide to do something about it.
Inconsistant.
I told my first proper ED lie today. (I'm not saying I have an ED, just that this was the kind of lie that I know for a fact ED sufferers use). I was makin myself a bowl of lettuce and cucumber and my mum was like I don't think that'll be very filling and I said Oh I already ate, tonnes, been eating most of the day, cos I get bored y'know, and I eat when I'm bored.
Since for most of my life I've eaten out of either emotion or boredom, it wasn't that hard a lie to tell. She bought it.
She has no reason not to. She'll only start worrying when I'm visibly loosing weight.
Though I would hate to worry her (a worry unfounded I might add because I'm not doing it dangerously or anything), she won't be able to do a damn thing about it because I'm over 18. Ha. Ha ha.
I hate a thinspo playlist which I'm listening to...has some good songs on it, like Never Good Enough which I know quite a few people on here like. The playlist is called Goo. Lol. ot a very good name I admit, but I can't exactly have it called Thinspo for all to see now can I. That'll give everyone the wrong impression.
I mean...people wanting to lose weight normally can look at thinspo and stuff. It says in slimmer magazines that you do better if you have motivation like a piece of clothing you wanna fit into or something. So anyone can look at thinspo not just ED people.
I have this top that's my physical motivation. It was a top my friend bought me for my birthday (early birthday present) just before I went to see Slipknot live, and it says Mrs Corey Taylor. (For those who don't know, Corey Taylor is the lead singer of Slipknot and Stone Sour).
I can fit into it but it's in that style where you really need a good figure to pull it off. It makes me bulge in all the wrong places. I generally bulge in all the wrong places anyway, but I wanna be able to wear it, so...the lbs must come off.
Watched 28 Days today. It's a film about rehab with Sandra Bullock. It's a good film.
Got my interview at college on Wednesday. Joy. I don't even wanna fucking go back to college but mum will go apeshit if I don't. And she'd want me to get a full time job instead. Don't want one of those either.
Everyone keeps shoving life in my face as if that'll make me deal with all the shit in my head but it's just making it ten times fucking worse.
"You won't save me
Cos I'm not the fortunate one"
For some people the best way to deal with things is to throw themselves into their work or whatever.
Well that doesn't work for me because when something's bothering me, it distracts me so that whatever I'm working on comes out shit which just pisses me off even more and then I'm worse off than I was to begin with.
I need everything to stop and since that's not a practical demand to make, there's only one option left.
Anyone who could feel what I'm feeling would get it.
And it's no use telling me that other people are going through worse than I am because a) it doesn't make it easier and b) they're not because they're not real. None of this is real and it's all I can think about...that and food and what I really wanna do is get the fuck out of here.
It's like a complete loony episode here and I want out.
There was a kid stood on the roof of a building and people were encouraging him to jump. There was a girl who was beaten along with her boyfriend into a coma. The boyfriend woke up, she didn't. Her dreads had been torn out and everything.
Children are dying just cos they don't have clean water and there are people in hollywood complaining that they only get such and such million a year.
There are parents who beat the living shit out of their children and men who fly planes full of innocent people into the ground and fathers who rape their daughters and mothers who rape their sons and sisters who get drunk and sleep with anyone who comes along and brothers who gets high every day.
The list is endless, it just goes on and on and fucking on.
And it's all true, it all happens.
So why the fuck would I wanna stay here. It's too fucking sick to be real. Someone has stuck me here and is forcing me to experience it...punishment, experiment, pleasure, who the fuck knows.
But I know this isn't the real world and I know I don't belong here.
I will find a way to wake up and I'll fucking kill them.
Wednesday, 2 June 2010
thoughts
This world is a psychological rapist.
Life is supposed to a good thing and yet it's forced on me against my will, just like sex is when you're raped.
I've not been raped in this world but I think I may have been on the other side. I have many daydreams and nightmares that I can't control. They scare the shit outta me.
I'm trying to convince my best friend that this isn't real and she's trying to convince me it is.
They're using her against me. I KNOW YOU'RE THERE YOU WANKERS! YOU CAN'T CONTROL ME! GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA THIS PROGRAMME!
You know what, I'm just gonna fuck you're programme over you arseholes I don't care anymore you can't make me do something against my will
Life is supposed to a good thing and yet it's forced on me against my will, just like sex is when you're raped.
I've not been raped in this world but I think I may have been on the other side. I have many daydreams and nightmares that I can't control. They scare the shit outta me.
I'm trying to convince my best friend that this isn't real and she's trying to convince me it is.
They're using her against me. I KNOW YOU'RE THERE YOU WANKERS! YOU CAN'T CONTROL ME! GET ME THE FUCK OUTTA THIS PROGRAMME!
You know what, I'm just gonna fuck you're programme over you arseholes I don't care anymore you can't make me do something against my will
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
Tuesday
I apologise for the lame title. Couldn't think of an interesting one. I meant to write earlier today but for some reason the internet wasn't working. I then discovered that I had accidentally turned my wireless button off when I turned my laptop off last night.
Mother's pissed with me again but maybe she'll finally stop nagging. She assumes that any time I don't do what she's asked is because I'm deliberately trying to spite her or something.
Yes, mother, I'm a horrible person.
You aren't my mother. I might not even have a mother. Your lies arne't your own so I forgive you.
Your just saying what they tell you to so I can't hate you.
Besides, even if you were real, I'm too tired to hate anymore.
I had a load of really philisophical things to say...but now I can't think of anything.
Mother's pissed with me again but maybe she'll finally stop nagging. She assumes that any time I don't do what she's asked is because I'm deliberately trying to spite her or something.
Yes, mother, I'm a horrible person.
You aren't my mother. I might not even have a mother. Your lies arne't your own so I forgive you.
Your just saying what they tell you to so I can't hate you.
Besides, even if you were real, I'm too tired to hate anymore.
I had a load of really philisophical things to say...but now I can't think of anything.
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