Right now I’m feeling dangerous. I can’t handle boredom. It’s a sea, ever rolling of blandness. I can’t live with that. I’d rather die. Sing to me a lullaby. Is everything going to be alright? Lie! Lies! I don’t like to breathe. I am falling again. Bother. Don’t bother me, I simply tire you out. Obviously, no one can care about me. Would I be a whole lot prettier if I smiled once in while? I do smile. Fuck this. I kicked the alcohol. I kicked the medicine and the mini overdoses, the slapping is always there, because I need to WAKE UP. I am dead, here, I am dead, writing a blog, writing crap because I cannot hack into the soft underbelly. Maybe because the soft underbelly would get a sharp kicking. I cannot stand to be beside myself. I cannot stand any-anything. Bye, bye. I forget sometimes I’m a stupid motherfucking twat who shouldn’t take up the limited oxygen. I forget that I am a waste of space. I almost forget I’m depressed, god forbid. Should I? Live my life and smile a little, sing lullabies, write articles become whatever I had set out to be? I’m not sure my worthlessness could comprehend the jumping of hurdles, cataclysmic success. I meander around raindrops and cement blocks. I feel no power in my fingertips. I can only feel understated anger.
That was last night on my Microsoft word thing before I went to bed. Where I cried, and listened to Lene Marlin. She's a coolie. Buy her stuff (her album is called Playing My Game). One of her songs gave me some hope:
Where I'm Headed
(pass by don't dare to stop)
Got a suitcase in my hand filled with stuff most precious to me
Sidewalk brings my feet
Wherever they're headed
There's no direction given
Just some trust in human mind
To rely on and to hold on to
Honestly don't know where I’ll end up at last
Won't even count the days
One thing I’m sure of
I won't move so fast
My mind in complete haze
I pass by
Don't dare to stop
When there's someone i see
There's no one here but me
I'm fooled by something inside my head
If I lay down now
I might look kinda dead
Just keep on wasting time
Scary thoughts and frightening sounds
In my mind still I try to avoid it
Heading through this
Hope not one way ally
I can't really sense my surroundings
Seems to be all dark around
Nothing there to lighten up my way
It's just my song. In my mind the chorus was: "I pass by/And turn to stone/There's no one to see/There's no one here but me..." I don't know. I just loved the lyrics, they seem so real I can almost touch them, but I'm afraid that if they're industry tried and tested I couldn't dare place that near my loves of words. But that’s a little over-dramatic.
Today was no good. I crashed briefly at 5:30. I spent about two hours crying and...slicing. I don't why it started. I was feeling tired and defeated/deflated because I wasn't finding anything useful in my history books (I'm doing my coursework essay on female suffrage/enfranchisement) and in my room, I just lay down on my bed and slumped to the floor in self defeat, and cried without speaking. It was nice, I guess because there was no howling, no massive bottomless well of horror waiting to unleash itself...yet. From my 'calculations' my next proper freak out is due in the middle of my exams, and I don't expect anything easier. Bah.
Right now the Games is on channel 4 which is a laugh - I love all things athletic. To Watch. I remember one time I tried to do the javelin for sports day. Partly because I was the best in the class, partly because I wanted the day off. My personal best is 13 metres...and my boobs rule out everything else *whispers* I'm a G cup *whispers* what? The only sport I could have become some kind of champion in was swimming. I'm a water baby. I can do the breast stroke for three hours without feeling exhausted until I dry off, then I need to eat like three chocolate bars. But I can’t even do that now. My arms even repulse me these days, but I can’t complain, can I? I’m the one who did the disciplining to me, but this is too much, even for my fuck-ups. Forget not wearing strappy tops or being afraid of my nakedness with other people. I miss swimming (on my own, with my friends, at a beach) more than anything else. Before, my exercise used to consist of swimming for two, three hours a week in the local swimming pool on my own, letting my own thoughts get away in the chlorine water. But I can’t even do that anymore…its my fault, isn’t it? So I know I’m not swarming for sympathy, that’s all. I just know that I have a problem and those damn consequences.