| Waiting |
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| 04:27pm 23/12/2009 |
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I have the ring. It's a ruby. We were going to get married, but the timing is not right.You can't ignore something that's broken. I'm not a religious person but I've started thinking about faith--about giving yourself completely to another person.I don't believe in promises, but I do believe in commitments.I believe in fate and that it cannot be fought.So I am sitting in his room writing this and waiting for him to come home.On Sunday I will be waiting for a month.I will be waiting for assurance that he will come back to me.I will be waiting to know if he still loves me.When you cannot control you have to have faith.No matter how naive people will say you are. No matter how damaged you are. No matter that you cannot eat and want to scream.That your heart is breaking.Faith is all I have.I cannot predict what will happen. If he will heal or destruct.If I will be strong enough for the both of us.I have faith he will and has always known how much I love him.That no matter what happens I will be here waiting. |
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| Transgender .. Transexual |
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| 11:33pm 20/12/2009 |
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mood:  contemplative
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Ever questioned if you were really (inside mentally etc) the gender you were born with? If so... when did you start questioning? Were you serious? What made you start to question your gender? Did it cause any complications (self centered or from others around you) with attraction to the same/opposite sex?
Did you feel almost as if you had/have no sexuality at all?
I have never met anyone who is transgender or transsexual... but I've lately wondered how they knew, when they started to question... or what their family, friends etc. thought about it... what they felt like after going through with the gender change...
just some musings that have been swirling around in my mind for the past while... |
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| no subject |
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| 02:41am 20/12/2009 |
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I wish there a non-awkward way to meet other insomniacs in your area.
I'm sick of being alone all the time because I'm awake all night. |
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| no subject |
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| 09:38pm 15/12/2009 |
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I am still taking the shock in. My trepist said that I was tease to the point of mental abused. I hate the word abused. I was born with learning disabilities (Dyscalculia,Dysgraphia,Dyslexia) and the school had a program for children with dyslexia but not for the other two. I was place half a day in a special ed class (with students who had special need) then in a normal class. My peers were very mean, all social ques were in a way unlearned. I am relearning them. |
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| 'round and 'round |
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| 08:42pm 15/12/2009 |
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Everything around me just swirls and swirls ...like every fragment of my life is trapped on a merry-go-round and the wind is lashing, eroding, paling everything I love and am. Where's the switch to turn this fucking thing off? |
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| Life |
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| 09:51pm 15/12/2009 |
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"I don't want to be one of the girls who laughs the loudest or doesn't want to be alone."
Inspirations comes at odd times, often when it's too late. I haven't posted here in a long time. A lot has changed.Self destruction is a spiral--for a reason--it has an end but it's delayed. It gives you a choice to climb out or drown. When you go beyond that, it is something entirely different.
Last night I asked a friend what kept her going.She told me it was the possibility of change. That if it ended now she would be just the some of her parts. Why do people get up in the morning? What makes them happy? What comforts them when they are not?I can't find the answers because when I look at my life I don't see any of it.People who care are worried. I am not.I probably should be. I can't eat. I sleep too little or too much.I drink too much.But that place I mentioned has no delay.It's looking around you and not seeing or understanding the will to survive.It's a disgusting freedom.I know it's selfish-- I've been told a hundred times.People yell and scream.They plead.But still I don't want it. None of it.
I know I am self involved.I am hurting people and it's a horrible thing to do.I am living because I have been told my absence will be intolerable.I am living because people tell me to.It's like one of those bad dreams where you can't wake up.
Is it so hard to let go? |
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| Whack your boss 17 ways! |
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| 03:38am 16/12/2009 |
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I was playing an online game where you have to find 17 ways to kill your boss. It's a good stress reliever if I ever did have a job. Maybe I can substitute my professors for it instead.
So while playing the game, these thoughts keep running through my head:
The thing is, I had my character use the umbrella and I realized, unless the umbrella was made of metal, it's going to be very difficult to push it through somebody's chest as opposed to what was shown in the game. Unless I was some sort of body builder, I can't actually lift a wall but if I throw someone through it, maybe they would die. It's doubtful I'll use a computer that's been splashed with blood (wouldn't that short circuit the computer?). Unless I'm using a metal ruler, it would be hard to penetrate the skull of a person. Maybe I could try pushing through with the plastic though. I can actually use a water dispenser to substitute for water torture. I do doubt that slashing someone's neck would produce that much blood as was shown in the game. But I do know they'd gush the same way.
then there are the usual tools: a suitcase, a cup, a keyboard, a stapler, trash can, computer, a chair, bare hands, the drawers, a coat hanger and a pencil. I find myself liking the use of the suitcase. The majority of the items are normal things we use for our everyday lives. We don't realize how deadly they seem to be. Apparently, it's actually very easy to kill someone.
-after all this I find myself debating whether I'm morbid or just plain curious. I go with morbid curiosity and the fact that I actually imagine doing these to the people who irritate me a lot doesn't help me much. |
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| no subject |
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| 12:26am 16/12/2009 |
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It is so easy to go from love to hate in a span of moments, or days. Its weird, and yet so strangely right.
My mind is chaotic. I try to stand up but I still falter against this stupid wall. I tell myself I'm getting better, hell I thought I've gotten better. So why does it seem like I still can't let this pass me by without breaking down and giving up? |
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| hmm |
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| 11:11am 13/12/2009 |
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It's weird when you don't realize you're...not quite right in the head. Mental instability is your norm, and the "normal ones" are the ones who are insane. But when you begin to cross over to the side of the "normal" and look back at all the years when you thought you were normal...heh. The realizations can be quite shocking. Or funny. Or a dark mixture of both.
For the longest time, I thought I wanted to be an author. Little did I know, "writing novels" was just a way for me to keep me distracted from doing more destructive things, and it was helpful in releasing anger. Lots and lots of anger. But now that I'm on the side of the "normal," I realize that I never really cared for the shit I BSed. However, I really do like my idea I came up with in all those years of being a psychotic weirdo. It'll be great as anything but a novel.
Guess I don't totally regret the mental tripping. People do tend to create great things when they're insane. |
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| no subject |
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| 02:19pm 11/12/2009 |
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mood:  good
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I'm back! I'm not sure if any of you will remember me...it's been so long since my last visit, but it's good to be back.
To the staff: i hear tell that there will be a new assigning of rooms on the new site. During my last stay i never did manage to get a room. I hope i can get one this time...those lobby chairs are so uncomfortable to sleep on! |
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| Still bitter. |
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| 09:20am 11/12/2009 |
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It going to be the first X-miss that my sister will not call stoned and begging us to feed her. It just hit me the other day. She gone,dead,over,never coming back. She die doing the thing she loved Shooting up. Her love for drugs was more then her love for the family. I don't know why it just came clear that jane was a junkie. I mean I've seen her shoot up before, I've carry her dope. You think I would have know when she left me at mall for 2 hours. Maybe I was just to young to understand or I didn't want to understand. Part of me wants to go to her grave and dig her out cause maybe she still alive maybe she was stoned when they put her in. The other part wants to go take the grave marker down so no one know she there, forget she ever was in my life. Both are very harsh thoughts. I feel like it my fault like I didn't try to save her. From the ages 11,12 and 13 is when I helped her the most to get high. She'd have me tie her off then go be look out,many time she left to go get a spoon or lighter so I was alone with it. I often thought about thowing it in the loo but she'd get mad. Maybe she wanted me there in case she ODed maybe it was to show me what drugs did. If that was it then it work,I've had a hard time touching/looking or being near drugs even if the doctor gives it to me. For the longest time I had issues with taking the pill. Maybe it's my fault. Maybe. |
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| Let's throw caution to the wind once more.... please? |
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| 01:41am 11/12/2009 |
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mood:  depressed
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*sigh*
Responsibility...
I hate it.
I feel like it may be more so than your average person. The thought of school and work make me feel like I'm going to be sick. It's so drull, so mundane... the same thing day in, day out... never changing, always just as boring every day. Every time I get a new job, I spend the whole first week feeling physically ill... High fever, puking, dizziness... but I'm never actually sick, I'm pretty sure it's all in my head.
The call to adventure is still so loud in my heart, the want, the need to find something new every day. To meet someone, see something, experience ANYTHING different from the ordinary.
The woods, the mountains, the ocean... they call to me like some kind of beautiful, slinky, whispy, woman. Her huge eyes set on mine, hypnotizing me... Her long, pale fingers curling, telling me to abandon everything. Begging me to the winds of adventure. Of new happenings...
But no, I have to grow up now. The age of pirates and discovery is long gone. A faint memory, a sweet taste in the back of my mind... *sigh*
How could I do this to myself? What happened? My heart screams "ADVENTURE! ACTION! GO! GO! GO! YOU'RE MISSING IT ALL!" at my brain. And my brain screams "APPEASE THE HEART! THE HEART IS MASTER!" but then my body just... doesn't....
I guess I'm just another washed up adventurer... a pilot without an airship... my goggles are gathering dust hanging on the wall, my pistol is rusted and broken... my sword, dull and brittle.
It's time to grow up, captain... |
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| surreal |
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| 11:58pm 10/12/2009 |
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This dissociation is really getting to me.
Everything that I used to know as real is now completely surreal.
This, as well as my dissociation of mind and body is just completely putting me into a state of non-being, as far as I'm concerned.
I feel like my character and identity is just... gone.
I still put up an ersatz one, but how long can I keep up this charade? |
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