I hate bullys. I hate them because I was bullied. And I hate them because sometimes it is so easy for me to forgive. And I hate them because I believe that had things gone a bit different when I was a kid I might have become one. I hate that, and I am very scared of that notion. I believe it to be so because the choice between 'good' and 'bad' is very much a choice for me. Not something that is based on a feeling, an instinct, but a knowledge of what the consequenses of my actions are. And that scares me. I'm sure most people work like this, but that still doesn't mean that I am not scared by myself. That is why I almost always feel bad when I have been drinking. The ability to make that choice goes out the window. I can act mean. Very mean. At least I feel like that. I don't appreciate that.
The funny thing is that I have that feeling of guilt even if I go out and don't drink, or drink very little. There are very few people I can drink with and feel good with. Those are either people with the same kind of humor or people I don't really care about.
Sometimes I feel like an autist. I feel like a total misfit in any kind of social situation. I don't trust myself. It is not helped by the fact that I feel barely tolerated anywhere in the world.
And what is even scarier is the fact that during the last years, my ability to remember stuff I've done while drunk is fading. When I was young I could remember everything. I remembered every beer, I remembered every conversation, every cigarette no matter how drunk I was. These days there are always blanks. I don't remember if I called a girl a whore almost a year ago, but she was really really mad at me. I don't think I called her that, but why would she be mad at me if I didn't? Am I someone who can do stuff like that? Is that me? A part of me? I think I might have called the bartender (I know him) a whore and she heard it, but maybe I didn't. I don't know. I didn't even remember if I did or did not say it the seconds afterwards. I don't remember much from saturday night (and I am thankfull for that), but given the situation I don't think I was at my best and if I wasn't downright offensive I was probably incredibly embarassing. The last months have shown me a lot of parts of myself that I didn't know existed, so I don't really know what I am capable of. I do believe that I am capable of being really mean. And I don't want that. But the only way I know how to battle that is making a promise to myself to not behave in a certain way, and that is so hard. So flimsy. It tears like a piece of paper in the wind.
The worst part is, I hardly know how to be sociable without alcohol. At least that what it feels like. That is sad.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Humanitas
I do things every day, because that is what humans do. I take a walk, I drink some coffe somewhere, I go shopping, I call a friend, because that is what humans do. I don't feel human. But I am supposed to be, and if I'm not I don't know what I am. So I play this charade. It doesn't make me happy, it doesn't make me anything. The only thing it does is kill time and give me a mask. I couldn't care less, except I know that If I don't do this I will fall down some horrible hole that is even worse that this one. A hole I don't know (a lie, I do know it. I've been staring down into it for over a year.). I don't feel more human, but I imagine I look it and that is the best I can do right now. A mask, a face, an act. If I pretend it maybe it becomes real?
Fuck. I am so so sorry for being so blind and being such an idiot. I feel when I look at the world and at people that I can barely grasp them, that I can barely see them for what they really are. That I barely can relate to them. I want to relate, I want to see.
At least I've come to realize that I don't know myself. Is that a step in the right direction?
I am so sorry. I've never realized how important the little things are. I've wasted it all. So many opportunities, so many ways to improve, to improve us, myself, to make us happy. Fuck. I've never regretted anything as much as this. I've never regretted being a coward as much as now.
Fuck. I am so so sorry for being so blind and being such an idiot. I feel when I look at the world and at people that I can barely grasp them, that I can barely see them for what they really are. That I barely can relate to them. I want to relate, I want to see.
At least I've come to realize that I don't know myself. Is that a step in the right direction?
I am so sorry. I've never realized how important the little things are. I've wasted it all. So many opportunities, so many ways to improve, to improve us, myself, to make us happy. Fuck. I've never regretted anything as much as this. I've never regretted being a coward as much as now.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Regression
Fell asleep at around 2 AM, I guess. Woke up at around 8 AM (wide awake), but stayed in bed until almost 12. Because, why not?
Is it possible that everything you see everyday reminds you of something?
My back is really acting strange. It feels like a part of my spine is burning.
Is it possible that everything you see everyday reminds you of something?
My back is really acting strange. It feels like a part of my spine is burning.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Ein Halber Mensch
I've been staring at this screen for an hour now. But nothing. Nothing to write. Nothing new. Nothing that I need to explain to myself. Nothing.
God. Everytime I'm starting to look at job applications or looking for somewhere to live it feels hopeless. There's no room for me in this world. There's no place for me.
I feel so apart from the world. In between. Too unmanly for my subcultures, too macho for something else.
God. Everytime I'm starting to look at job applications or looking for somewhere to live it feels hopeless. There's no room for me in this world. There's no place for me.
I feel so apart from the world. In between. Too unmanly for my subcultures, too macho for something else.
The New Project 5
I got beat up once, at a gig. In some ways I deserved a slap or two, but I got a pretty good beating. Nosebleed and black eyes and the works. That was not the worst part. The worst part was that I pissed myself. It just happened, and I couldn't stop it from continuing to happen.
Bad Luck Wind
"Got a long line of heartache, I carry it well
The list of lives I've broken reach from here to hell
Back luck wind been blowing at my back
I pray you don't look at me, I pray I don't look back"
So... I was listening to that song (Johnny Cash's version) on my way out to the old folks place. Sitting in a dark bus on a dark road made it feel very fitting. Not at all comforting. But fitting. That last line became a great fear. I'm so afraid that it is me. Or maybe more afraid that the whole song is about a future me.
Does everyone go through this? How do people stay alive? The list of lives I've broken reach from here to hell.
And I got this strange notion that crying is worthless, and that I can't burden those around me with it anymore. But all I want to do is cry. But it makes everything feel so heavy and real and like it really really leaves me naked. It is akin to the same feeling I talked about in the project.
The list of lives I've broken reach from here to hell
Back luck wind been blowing at my back
I pray you don't look at me, I pray I don't look back"
So... I was listening to that song (Johnny Cash's version) on my way out to the old folks place. Sitting in a dark bus on a dark road made it feel very fitting. Not at all comforting. But fitting. That last line became a great fear. I'm so afraid that it is me. Or maybe more afraid that the whole song is about a future me.
Does everyone go through this? How do people stay alive? The list of lives I've broken reach from here to hell.
And I got this strange notion that crying is worthless, and that I can't burden those around me with it anymore. But all I want to do is cry. But it makes everything feel so heavy and real and like it really really leaves me naked. It is akin to the same feeling I talked about in the project.
Killing Time
I just want time to pass. Every day I try to keep myself occupied just so I don't think and feel too much, just so I'll be too tired to cry when I go to bed. Just so I know I'll fall asleep. Everything is about keeping me busy. Or trying to imagine that nothing has happened. To just pretend that it still is as it was (not that that one worked out that great in that respect). Just to stay away from the man with the sledgehammer. Just to stay away from having to face all my mistakes over and over again. To ignore, to imagine, to lie to myself. Just to stay one step ahead of him. It's all pointless, it's all meaningless in any other aspect. Just killing time, just wearing myself out. Every day is just another obstacle.
It just makes me so sad, admitting that it have come to this. And this sense of loss... There is no point left. I'm just going through the motions (and hardly even that anymore). The motions gave me hope and some sense of disciplin. But not right now.
According to Nietzsche, the greeks thought that hope was the greatest of evils. That was why it was in Pandoras box in the first place. That was why it didn't escape with the rest. Too heavy.
What if this never happens to me again? What if this was it? And on some level I don't want it to happen again. I want this to be it. I can't imagine it ever being greater. Silly, maybe. Obviously it wasn't that great.
I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
It just makes me so sad, admitting that it have come to this. And this sense of loss... There is no point left. I'm just going through the motions (and hardly even that anymore). The motions gave me hope and some sense of disciplin. But not right now.
According to Nietzsche, the greeks thought that hope was the greatest of evils. That was why it was in Pandoras box in the first place. That was why it didn't escape with the rest. Too heavy.
What if this never happens to me again? What if this was it? And on some level I don't want it to happen again. I want this to be it. I can't imagine it ever being greater. Silly, maybe. Obviously it wasn't that great.
I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
Monday, January 28, 2008
Lethe
If I could I would drink it in one single sip. Right now, I don't want to feel. Anything. It would just be so nice to not feel like shit for once. It feels better then it did a week or two or three or four ago, that much is true. More certain (if that is better). But I'm still feeling like I'm carying around an enormous sack of lead on my back and around my heart. I just want to rest, but I believe there is no rest to be found right now. It feels like I'm being hunted.
I don't want to leave town tonight, but I feel like I have to.
I sometimes wonder if I'm some sort of emotional flagellant. I'm such an idiot. I'm so tired of myself.
I don't want to leave town tonight, but I feel like I have to.
I sometimes wonder if I'm some sort of emotional flagellant. I'm such an idiot. I'm so tired of myself.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Thumper
The truth hits me like a fat man with a sledgehammer in the chest a few times a day. In different ways. Different realities, different truths. Different questions. Stuff like "how am I going to DO this?" But the scariest part of that question is the answers. Too often they tend to be something in the vein of "what do I care?" or "does it matter? Does it make a difference, a real difference?"
I'm so tired. I can't even remember the last time I had a full nights sleep. I feel like I'm 100 years old.
On the other hand, I do think it makes a difference. I do care. I feel like I'm coming in for a crash of some sort. Maybe just exhaustion of some sort, maybe something else. I think that I'm in some ways are trying to pull up or trying to build something that will last during and after the crash. I don't know. I don't know what or how or anything. Hence the erratic behaviour. I don't know if I actually construct anything, though. It feels like I'm burning as much as I'm building. "The road to hell..." etc.
If one looks at my history of alcohol use, one can definitiley see that I don't learn from my mistakes. The hangovers are really killing me. Not the physical side. I can stand feeling nauseus, dizzy, tired, headaches and stuff. What I can't stand is feeling like shit mentally. Something that basically always happens. I always find something I've done to feel bad about.
Listening to Bonnie 'Prince' Billy probably doesn't help.
I'm so tired. I can't even remember the last time I had a full nights sleep. I feel like I'm 100 years old.
On the other hand, I do think it makes a difference. I do care. I feel like I'm coming in for a crash of some sort. Maybe just exhaustion of some sort, maybe something else. I think that I'm in some ways are trying to pull up or trying to build something that will last during and after the crash. I don't know. I don't know what or how or anything. Hence the erratic behaviour. I don't know if I actually construct anything, though. It feels like I'm burning as much as I'm building. "The road to hell..." etc.
If one looks at my history of alcohol use, one can definitiley see that I don't learn from my mistakes. The hangovers are really killing me. Not the physical side. I can stand feeling nauseus, dizzy, tired, headaches and stuff. What I can't stand is feeling like shit mentally. Something that basically always happens. I always find something I've done to feel bad about.
Listening to Bonnie 'Prince' Billy probably doesn't help.
Shit pommes frites
So...
Strange night.
And strangest of all is that I had pretty fun. It's all pretty blurry and I don't remember that much. I'm pretty grateful for that. As I have said before, I tend to become a sad and pathetic drunk. You don't want to remember those parts, you know? And I wonder how much money I actually spent. I think it might have been quite a lot. Well, as a friend of mine said "money should be spent right away or they start to rot."
What I DO remember is the aftermath of the cabway to S's place. It ended up in a walk all over the south side of central Stockholm, almost passing out just outside her door and falling asleep with my shirt around my neck and my coat as a cover at around 6-7 AM. Nice. That whisky really killed me. I shouldn't drink liquour. It ends up bad. Nice whisky, though. Really good.
I have the strange notion that I should shoot myself in the face, but I don't really know why. I hate being hungover. The world just seems so pointless, and I don't need that feeling to become stronger. I feel so worthless while being hungover.
God, I just want to go home and fall asleep. I HATE working while feeling like this. It really makes shit worse. I wonder if I should stop drinking or stop working? I wonder if I was rude or obnoxious? I think I was pretty rude to a bunch of cars though.
I think I'm still drunk.
Everything in my life feels very "now-or-never." Everything. And that leads to some impulsive acts quite often. I don't really know if or how that affects other people, and I am sorry if it affects anyone in a bad way. It is not my intention.
God, I hate this. I should have been sober yesterday. 4 h to go until I can leave this place and go somewhere else and feel like shit. Great. But right now anywhere is better than this place and this feeling.
Strange night.
And strangest of all is that I had pretty fun. It's all pretty blurry and I don't remember that much. I'm pretty grateful for that. As I have said before, I tend to become a sad and pathetic drunk. You don't want to remember those parts, you know? And I wonder how much money I actually spent. I think it might have been quite a lot. Well, as a friend of mine said "money should be spent right away or they start to rot."
What I DO remember is the aftermath of the cabway to S's place. It ended up in a walk all over the south side of central Stockholm, almost passing out just outside her door and falling asleep with my shirt around my neck and my coat as a cover at around 6-7 AM. Nice. That whisky really killed me. I shouldn't drink liquour. It ends up bad. Nice whisky, though. Really good.
I have the strange notion that I should shoot myself in the face, but I don't really know why. I hate being hungover. The world just seems so pointless, and I don't need that feeling to become stronger. I feel so worthless while being hungover.
God, I just want to go home and fall asleep. I HATE working while feeling like this. It really makes shit worse. I wonder if I should stop drinking or stop working? I wonder if I was rude or obnoxious? I think I was pretty rude to a bunch of cars though.
I think I'm still drunk.
Everything in my life feels very "now-or-never." Everything. And that leads to some impulsive acts quite often. I don't really know if or how that affects other people, and I am sorry if it affects anyone in a bad way. It is not my intention.
God, I hate this. I should have been sober yesterday. 4 h to go until I can leave this place and go somewhere else and feel like shit. Great. But right now anywhere is better than this place and this feeling.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Destroyer
Why does it take so long for me to understand? To really comprehend? Why do I have to destroy everything, up until the point where the world just says "NO MORE! Do it right or fuck off!" Actually no, I do it beyond that point too. And even then it takes me so much time to understand.
I hate that aspect of myself. The aspect who just won't see, who don't want to see until it is to late. It (no, I) has destroyed so much, not just in me but in my life. FUCK! Why does it always have to come to this? Why does everything have to fall down in ruins around me before I understand, before I see? I have to change this. I must. But how? I. DON'T. KNOW. MYSELF. I hate it. It feels like I have spent so long building a wall against the outside world, and now I don't know what is inside the wall. It feels like the wall is everything there is. I don't know who I am without it. I've crippled myself in so many ways. I am so envious of those that don't have the wall, or don't need it or those that have torn it down. I wish I could be them. No, I wish I had been them and that I am them.
Yesterday I realized that this song has been my life the last year (or more):
It makes me so sad to realize that. It makes me so sad to understand what I made people put up with. That is the worst part.
Had a good talk and cry with mom, though. Told her basically everything. Well, not the details from school or so, just what I feel like and about the wall and about my self confidence and stuff. Made me feel calm. Went to bed without feeling like my sould would explode. Took forver before I could fall asleep, but it wasn't as bad as it usually is.
But still...
moar funny pictures
I hate that aspect of myself. The aspect who just won't see, who don't want to see until it is to late. It (no, I) has destroyed so much, not just in me but in my life. FUCK! Why does it always have to come to this? Why does everything have to fall down in ruins around me before I understand, before I see? I have to change this. I must. But how? I. DON'T. KNOW. MYSELF. I hate it. It feels like I have spent so long building a wall against the outside world, and now I don't know what is inside the wall. It feels like the wall is everything there is. I don't know who I am without it. I've crippled myself in so many ways. I am so envious of those that don't have the wall, or don't need it or those that have torn it down. I wish I could be them. No, I wish I had been them and that I am them.
Yesterday I realized that this song has been my life the last year (or more):
It makes me so sad to realize that. It makes me so sad to understand what I made people put up with. That is the worst part.
Had a good talk and cry with mom, though. Told her basically everything. Well, not the details from school or so, just what I feel like and about the wall and about my self confidence and stuff. Made me feel calm. Went to bed without feeling like my sould would explode. Took forver before I could fall asleep, but it wasn't as bad as it usually is.
But still...
moar funny pictures
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
FOADIF
I shouldn't I shouldn't I shouldn't have. Whywhywhy why can't I see, why do I destroy everything? I'd already said everything I said, why did I have to say it again, why why why why why!?
Everything I touch turns to shit.
Everything I touch turns to shit.
Repugnance
Uh! Horrible night.
I don't know what to write here anymore. I've said it all, basically. I feel like I'm boring the whole world with my whining. That I'm driving people of.
I don't know what to write here anymore. I've said it all, basically. I feel like I'm boring the whole world with my whining. That I'm driving people of.
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Darkest Hour of Night
Maybe I should just stop. But I don't know If I can. I am trying to make some sort of pause, though.
God, I'm sad. Sad as in pathetic.
God, I'm sad. Sad as in pathetic.
Coffe & Cigarettes
Yes, I know I said I wouldn't write here, but you obviously can't escape the internet anywhere in the western world.
Anyway, I am at the old folks place and things have transpired better than I thought. Maybe not as perfect as I hoped they would, but better than I feared. So despite the fact that it felt like the whole weekend caught up with me in just a few hours, yesterday was an OK day. I slept pretty good.
I think they know more about me than I think. About the stuff that is written in the Project. I think I might have told them about some of it. But I don't remember that! Why don't I remember that? Why do I remember things that are wrong? It doesn't exactely make your trust issues any better when you realize you can't trust yourself.
Today started strange, however. I recently looked myself in the mirror and realized that I don't know who was looking back. I'm not getting crazy, I just realized that I don't know why I look the way I look anymore. I'm standing there in my black jeans and long hair and Machetazo T-shirt and studded belt and tattoos and I don't understand why. And the worst part is that I don't know why I feel like that. Am I trying to find something new? Or find something old, but hidden and forgotten? Or is it the vile third option? The most despicable, lowly and totally in vain third path (I can't even write it)? Or am I being nostalgic? Am I trying to be what I should have been a long time ago? Or do I just want to look good and feel good about something? Does it matter? I don't know. And I feel my reflection can't be me until I know. But I don't know if I want to know, because the truth might break my back. On the other hand, that is the way I have promised myself I won't be. No more hiding.
It is not comfortable. But it is as it is. I've always fought so hard against other people influencing the way I dress, the way I am, the way I look. Maybe this would be easier if I hadn't. All this. I don't know. Maybe I would know why I don't recognize my reflection as myself. I've just felt that everytime someone tries to tell me what I should wear or what I would look good in I just want to run in the other direction, because it has felt like... Like I'm not enough. Like I won't do.
But right now I just want to be pretty.
Yesterday left me with some sense of relief and that is that this might work out in at least a material way. I just don't have the energy or the attention span to do much of anything. But I am trying, OK?
I understand things so slowly. I hate it. So slowly.
Don't know what is happening with the project. I can't be finished yet, can I?
Well, screw this. I got to take the mutt for a walk. Smoke some cigarettes and inhale the fresh country air or something.
And for all of you people searching for Blasphemy related stuff... Do you find anything interesting here? And how much of this blog puts you off?
Anyway, I am at the old folks place and things have transpired better than I thought. Maybe not as perfect as I hoped they would, but better than I feared. So despite the fact that it felt like the whole weekend caught up with me in just a few hours, yesterday was an OK day. I slept pretty good.
I think they know more about me than I think. About the stuff that is written in the Project. I think I might have told them about some of it. But I don't remember that! Why don't I remember that? Why do I remember things that are wrong? It doesn't exactely make your trust issues any better when you realize you can't trust yourself.
Today started strange, however. I recently looked myself in the mirror and realized that I don't know who was looking back. I'm not getting crazy, I just realized that I don't know why I look the way I look anymore. I'm standing there in my black jeans and long hair and Machetazo T-shirt and studded belt and tattoos and I don't understand why. And the worst part is that I don't know why I feel like that. Am I trying to find something new? Or find something old, but hidden and forgotten? Or is it the vile third option? The most despicable, lowly and totally in vain third path (I can't even write it)? Or am I being nostalgic? Am I trying to be what I should have been a long time ago? Or do I just want to look good and feel good about something? Does it matter? I don't know. And I feel my reflection can't be me until I know. But I don't know if I want to know, because the truth might break my back. On the other hand, that is the way I have promised myself I won't be. No more hiding.
It is not comfortable. But it is as it is. I've always fought so hard against other people influencing the way I dress, the way I am, the way I look. Maybe this would be easier if I hadn't. All this. I don't know. Maybe I would know why I don't recognize my reflection as myself. I've just felt that everytime someone tries to tell me what I should wear or what I would look good in I just want to run in the other direction, because it has felt like... Like I'm not enough. Like I won't do.
But right now I just want to be pretty.
Yesterday left me with some sense of relief and that is that this might work out in at least a material way. I just don't have the energy or the attention span to do much of anything. But I am trying, OK?
I understand things so slowly. I hate it. So slowly.
Don't know what is happening with the project. I can't be finished yet, can I?
Well, screw this. I got to take the mutt for a walk. Smoke some cigarettes and inhale the fresh country air or something.
And for all of you people searching for Blasphemy related stuff... Do you find anything interesting here? And how much of this blog puts you off?
Monday, January 21, 2008
Refuge
There really is only a special time when I feel safe. When everything and anything can happen and it is OK. Because at those moments I have what I need. Even when I feel so bad I cry and scream it is still OK. But in between those moments so much stuff goes on in my head that I don't know what to do. Ugly things grow. It is not that I don't believe that the moments will come back (although in the darkest hours of night I tend to be too week and doubt). I just need them so bad, all the time, in one way or the other.
Had a pretty good nights sleep tonight. Probably had a lot to do with lack of sleep every other night this week, being a bit hung over and having spent the day 'working.' Felt nice feeling yourself falling asleep without obsessing over stuff. More of that, please.
It is so hard staying on the right track. It is so scary and I feel so week. I guess the only way to do it is to do it head on, but that is an approach that I have never been comfortable with. Because I am a coward. Emotional ostrich.
On another note I'm turning my computer in for service today + leaving town for the week so I don't know when I'll be updating this thing again. Probably sooner than you think, but we'll see.
Had a pretty good nights sleep tonight. Probably had a lot to do with lack of sleep every other night this week, being a bit hung over and having spent the day 'working.' Felt nice feeling yourself falling asleep without obsessing over stuff. More of that, please.
It is so hard staying on the right track. It is so scary and I feel so week. I guess the only way to do it is to do it head on, but that is an approach that I have never been comfortable with. Because I am a coward. Emotional ostrich.
On another note I'm turning my computer in for service today + leaving town for the week so I don't know when I'll be updating this thing again. Probably sooner than you think, but we'll see.
Emad
I don't really know what I fear right now. I mean, I know it is over. I know that.
But I'm still so scared. Funny, that.
I don't know...
I did spend the day regretting all the stupid shit I've done and missing all the little things. EMO! Looking your failures and mistakes right in the eye might be good in the long run, but it didn't/doesn't feel like it.
I miss the cats.
But I'm still so scared. Funny, that.
I don't know...
I did spend the day regretting all the stupid shit I've done and missing all the little things. EMO! Looking your failures and mistakes right in the eye might be good in the long run, but it didn't/doesn't feel like it.
I miss the cats.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Gipsy Fighter
I don't want to go out to the old folks place. I just feel that they can't do anything but pat my shoulder. No, that's wrong. I feel that they can do a lot, but I will only get pats on the shoulders. Another reason for not showing any weakness.
I feel like a battery that is out of energy. I can't bring myself to do anything. Depleted. I spend my time doing nothing, because nothing can be done.
I need to be recharged. But it doesn't work that way right now.
God, I got to get a good nights sleep sometime soon. Being a bit hungover today doesn't help.
But I got some good news yesterday. Well, it wasn't really news at all. But it is nice to be reminded of important things. Thanks.
I feel like a battery that is out of energy. I can't bring myself to do anything. Depleted. I spend my time doing nothing, because nothing can be done.
I need to be recharged. But it doesn't work that way right now.
God, I got to get a good nights sleep sometime soon. Being a bit hungover today doesn't help.
But I got some good news yesterday. Well, it wasn't really news at all. But it is nice to be reminded of important things. Thanks.
Used Cars Salesman
The night passed without any big drama, although it was not comfortable.
In some ways it was a pretty bad night, in some ways it was a pretty good night.
I dread the week that is coming. Granted, I dread every new day right now. But I try to trust. I really do. It is so hard, but I try.
Fuck. If I wanted to I could probably get laid tonight. Or at least get to make out. But I don't want that. I don't.
And I seem to have got a lot of new visitors. Strange. But maybe not.
In some ways it was a pretty bad night, in some ways it was a pretty good night.
I dread the week that is coming. Granted, I dread every new day right now. But I try to trust. I really do. It is so hard, but I try.
Fuck. If I wanted to I could probably get laid tonight. Or at least get to make out. But I don't want that. I don't.
And I seem to have got a lot of new visitors. Strange. But maybe not.
Friday, January 18, 2008
The New Project 4
In some ways (and this is selfish) I feel left by my parents. I feel like they just took of. Just left me. I feel like they felt a great relief when they didn't have to help me find a place to live, when they didn't have to help me out. Like they just took the easiest way out (they have more or less admitted it). And I know it isn't fair. I was over 20 when it happened, you know? I should be able do deal with my own life. And I didn't ask for help. Too proud and too ashamed, remember?
But still... That was when I started to feel separated from my family. And the rest of the world felt even worse. More alienated. More apart. Untouchable. Before that I felt like I could go out and spit the world in the eye for not liking me. It became harder after that. That, and a lot of other shit. Didn't have a home. Didn't have a safe haven. Sort of.
moar funny pictures
But still... That was when I started to feel separated from my family. And the rest of the world felt even worse. More alienated. More apart. Untouchable. Before that I felt like I could go out and spit the world in the eye for not liking me. It became harder after that. That, and a lot of other shit. Didn't have a home. Didn't have a safe haven. Sort of.
moar funny pictures
The Weight Of The World
I hope it doesn't come back an bite me in the ass, but then again... I don't see how this could become worse.
Just realized how hopeless it is to try and find a decent place to live in in Stockholm. Depressing.
Just exactely how weak are you if your shoulders start to hurt from wearing suspenders/braces for 2-3 hours? I am constantly surprised at the many ways my body betray me.
There is so many things I can't even imagine letting go or never doing again. But it is as it is.
The project is on hold for a few days, I think. A lot of things are happening right now.
I can really feel the weight of the world and everything in it right now. God, I've been so blind in so many ways. So chicken.
Just realized how hopeless it is to try and find a decent place to live in in Stockholm. Depressing.
Just exactely how weak are you if your shoulders start to hurt from wearing suspenders/braces for 2-3 hours? I am constantly surprised at the many ways my body betray me.
There is so many things I can't even imagine letting go or never doing again. But it is as it is.
The project is on hold for a few days, I think. A lot of things are happening right now.
I can really feel the weight of the world and everything in it right now. God, I've been so blind in so many ways. So chicken.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
The New Project 3
It's about not giving in. Not letting them see your weakness. Not admitting that you are weak. The crying and not caring about getting locked in the shower, and at one time getting photographed naked in the shower by some older kids. If I care and show it I admit that they have gotten to me. Both to them and to myself. Story of my life. But I do care. I just push it aside.
One time, when I was around 13 or 14 years old I got slapped around by one of the cool girls in school (coincidentally one of the sexiest girls I had ever seen up to that time). I didn't cry when she did it but I was mortified. I don't remember why she did it. She probably thought I was annoying or something. The thing was I tried to keep it inside but I couldn't I started to hyper ventilate and sob during our S.O.-class. Almost felt like I had a seizure of some sort. So utterly humiliating. Being beaten by a girl and crying over it. Not because I thought that it matters if I got beaten by a girl or a boy, but because I was worried about what everybody else would think.
I remember buying some new clothes for P.E. around the same time. I was down at the mall and some of the cool girls in my class come up to me and started talking. They said my clothes looked cool and they wanted to borrow some money (like 20 or 40 SEK). I said sure. I was supposed to get them back in a few days. I came home to my mother and she saw the price tag and wondered why the rest of the money was (the money I had lent the girls) and I couldn't really give her a straight answer (because I knew I had been used and I couldn't admit it to her). She said it wasn't OK for me to spend that money because it was hers and she would deduct it from my allowance. So I asked the girls about the money, but I never got it back. Just some excuses and some sneers.
Something similar happened around that time, but in the winter. We went ice skating. A guy who used to be my friend when we just had started school (from 7 to 9) but had turned into one of the cool kids asked if he could borrow my skates when I went home. I shaid he could. I was going to get them back the day after. So the next day I asked ghim. He said I should come to the P.E.-hall after school because he was practising with his basket ball team or something. So I went there. Knocked on the door and some of the older kids opened. I asked if he was there and they looked at me like I was a total moron (like "how can you even think you can come here and ask us anything?"), said "no" with a sneer and closed the door. I never asked him again. I didn't want to humiliate myself anymore. Lost a 600 SEK pair of perfectly good skates there and then.
A year or two later I was a punk rocker. Me, Axel and his girl was going to see "Fucking Åmål." On the way from the subway I was stopped by an older punk who did his best (and succeeded) in intimidating me. I don't remember what he said but it had something to do with my anarchy pin. And then he ripped the Thors hammer pendant my mother had made for me from my neck. And that was it. We went to the movies. The most humiliating part was the fact that there was some police officers outside the subway station, but I could not bring myself to telling them. Partly because of the weakness thing, but also because I was so afraid. I've never told anybody about this. Not even my mother. I was (and is, but for other reasons) so ashamed. I've had a hard time with "Fucking Åmål" ever since.
It is so painful that this comes out now. But I don't feel like I have a choice. Everything comes pouring out now. I don't know how next week is going to be. I'm going out to the old folks place. I don't know how much I can teel them. I haven't really told them anything about myself since they moved. I didn't even tell them that I started to study. I haven't told them that I failed miserably. I haven't told them that I am in debt. I haven't told them anything about what happened when I was a kid. They know so little about me, I feel. I guess I am ashamed of being weak, because that is what it boils down to. I feel weak and ashamed and like nothing.
One time, when I was around 13 or 14 years old I got slapped around by one of the cool girls in school (coincidentally one of the sexiest girls I had ever seen up to that time). I didn't cry when she did it but I was mortified. I don't remember why she did it. She probably thought I was annoying or something. The thing was I tried to keep it inside but I couldn't I started to hyper ventilate and sob during our S.O.-class. Almost felt like I had a seizure of some sort. So utterly humiliating. Being beaten by a girl and crying over it. Not because I thought that it matters if I got beaten by a girl or a boy, but because I was worried about what everybody else would think.
I remember buying some new clothes for P.E. around the same time. I was down at the mall and some of the cool girls in my class come up to me and started talking. They said my clothes looked cool and they wanted to borrow some money (like 20 or 40 SEK). I said sure. I was supposed to get them back in a few days. I came home to my mother and she saw the price tag and wondered why the rest of the money was (the money I had lent the girls) and I couldn't really give her a straight answer (because I knew I had been used and I couldn't admit it to her). She said it wasn't OK for me to spend that money because it was hers and she would deduct it from my allowance. So I asked the girls about the money, but I never got it back. Just some excuses and some sneers.
Something similar happened around that time, but in the winter. We went ice skating. A guy who used to be my friend when we just had started school (from 7 to 9) but had turned into one of the cool kids asked if he could borrow my skates when I went home. I shaid he could. I was going to get them back the day after. So the next day I asked ghim. He said I should come to the P.E.-hall after school because he was practising with his basket ball team or something. So I went there. Knocked on the door and some of the older kids opened. I asked if he was there and they looked at me like I was a total moron (like "how can you even think you can come here and ask us anything?"), said "no" with a sneer and closed the door. I never asked him again. I didn't want to humiliate myself anymore. Lost a 600 SEK pair of perfectly good skates there and then.
A year or two later I was a punk rocker. Me, Axel and his girl was going to see "Fucking Åmål." On the way from the subway I was stopped by an older punk who did his best (and succeeded) in intimidating me. I don't remember what he said but it had something to do with my anarchy pin. And then he ripped the Thors hammer pendant my mother had made for me from my neck. And that was it. We went to the movies. The most humiliating part was the fact that there was some police officers outside the subway station, but I could not bring myself to telling them. Partly because of the weakness thing, but also because I was so afraid. I've never told anybody about this. Not even my mother. I was (and is, but for other reasons) so ashamed. I've had a hard time with "Fucking Åmål" ever since.
It is so painful that this comes out now. But I don't feel like I have a choice. Everything comes pouring out now. I don't know how next week is going to be. I'm going out to the old folks place. I don't know how much I can teel them. I haven't really told them anything about myself since they moved. I didn't even tell them that I started to study. I haven't told them that I failed miserably. I haven't told them that I am in debt. I haven't told them anything about what happened when I was a kid. They know so little about me, I feel. I guess I am ashamed of being weak, because that is what it boils down to. I feel weak and ashamed and like nothing.
The New Project 2
I have a problem with crying. When I cry I feel like that little kid on the playground who just got beat up. It is humiliating. And the problem is, it has always been very easy for me to cry. That is a problem. You don't exactely get a lot of respect when you cry about everything. I cry when I am angry, for example. People tend to not take your anger seriously if you cry. Main problem (and it is a bullshit problem in reality, but not to me): it is not manly to cry. I have to keep it away. But since it is so easy for me to cry as soon as I feel something, I have to refrain from giving the emotions room. Because if I feel them, if I really feel them I will cry. So I keep it away. But it surfaces in other ways, I guess.
I hate machismo. I hate men. I hate acting manly. But it is still important to me. I hate it. But I cannot let it go. I so want to drop it. But it has been what I have measured myself against for quite som time, in one way or the other.
I'm ashamed of myself. It feels like everybody else I know are free and beautiful spirits who know themselves, know what they want and I feel like such an ugly dwarf, chained to the earth. Chained to the earth by myself.
However. During all this I had to make a great plunge into the unknown (ie trusting people) and so far I have been caught. I am lucky. I have friends. That feels good.
I feel like I have exhausted my mind. We'll see if something new shows up.
I hate machismo. I hate men. I hate acting manly. But it is still important to me. I hate it. But I cannot let it go. I so want to drop it. But it has been what I have measured myself against for quite som time, in one way or the other.
I'm ashamed of myself. It feels like everybody else I know are free and beautiful spirits who know themselves, know what they want and I feel like such an ugly dwarf, chained to the earth. Chained to the earth by myself.
However. During all this I had to make a great plunge into the unknown (ie trusting people) and so far I have been caught. I am lucky. I have friends. That feels good.
I feel like I have exhausted my mind. We'll see if something new shows up.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The New Project 1
I have been informed of and come to realize that there are a lot of things in my life, in my past that I need to deal with. Things I have previously ignored. I don't really know how to do that, but I believe that writing about it here is a first step. I choose to publish it here because I don't want myself to be a secret anymore. To anyone. I want to be a proud and beautiful soul who is not ashamed of anything. That is not who I am today. But where to start? I guess I'll type it down as I come to think of it.
My self esteem has always been very low. There are very few things I believe that I am good at. I believe I know very few things that will actually take me somewhere.
I have always been the smart kid. Always. It was my only currency in school, so to speak. I was the kid who helped other kids in class, the one you came to when you had a problem in english or in history or in religion. I didn't get good grades, but still. I was smart. Everybody always told me I was smart. The only thing I have ever been. Smart. So I went to the university. It took me a long time to dare to apply. To dare to make the change, dare to take the leap. And I failed. I used to be a big fish in a small pond. It broke my heart. The only thing I have ever really been was stolen from me. No, it was not stolen. I wasn't good enough. I had failed. I wasn't good enough. I wasn't smart. The only place I have come to where I have felt "wow! I could spend the rest of my life doing this! This is ME! This is where it starts!" and I wasn't good enough. A working class kid thrown in for the sake of appearence with the real elite. The only ambition I have ever had, and I failed. Doesn't matter why I failed. I failed. And I was (and am) too proud to ask for help. Too ashamed.
I have always felt out of place. Even as a kid. I have never felt like I had a place that was mine. Friends who really where MY friends, who loved me for me. I have always felt like the second choice. I have felt like I must hide a great deal of myself.
I have never understood how things work. Not without making some big mistake that showed me "this is NOT an OK way to act." This makes me feel even more out of place. It probably has to do with the fact that I didn't really spend much time with anyone from the age of 11 to the age of 18. I was very isolated during those years, although it was worst between 11 and 13. It gradually got better, but I still felt out of place. The kid who got to tag along because why not? Not because anyone wanted me there, but because why not? Tolerated at best. That got proven to me when one of my closest friends told me that she didn't think that we should be friends anymore. She told me that when I was in a really fucked up state too. It destroyed so much. Some time later we saw each other by chance in the city and she smiled and waved at me. I was destroyed and emotionally mutilated and she smiles and waves at me? This being, that was the only one I had trusted with my feelings and who let me down in the cruelest of ways and she smiles and waves at me? So I sent her a text message saying that if we ever meet again and she looked like she recognized me I would kill her. The thing is, she had been dogging my calls and text messages all summer, and then when I finally got a reply and I was on the brink of self destruction I got that. I hate her. I still do. She is dead to me.
I met (by coincidence) someone who know us both about a year ago. I really like this person. He was one of the best teachers I have ever had. But I was disgusted that he still knew her. He haven't tried to contact med in 7 years, but he meets her all the time. The feeling went by pretty fast so I didn't pay much attention to it. I probably should have.
I wasn't the one that was always picked on in school, but it was very clear that if anyone wanted to, there was no obstacle to pick on me. So I got beat up on a couple of occations. I don't remember when this happened, but I was very young and the whole class (more or less) ganged up on me in a snow ball fight and really pummeled the shit out of me with snow. I cried and I screamed and I tried to fight them but it didn't help. The only one who helped me and comforted me when it was over was my friend Axel. For that and so much more I owe him my life.
Some years later I was locked in to the showers after PE. All soaped up and all alone. I told them that it was OK (because I figured they had to leave pretty soon) as long as they didn't turn the lights off. Of course they turned the light off. Alone and cold. The thing is, I don't even remember becoming that angry or that sad or upset. It was just something that happened. I remember telling a teacher, and it helped because I don't remember them touching me anymore.
(But I don't trust my memory. There are so many things that I have forgotten or remember wrong and it makes me a bit scared. Have I acted on things because I remember them wrong or because I don't remember them at all? Or have I forgotten some things because they really doesn't matter? Or have I forgotten them because I am a self centered bastard who can't see properly? Which is it? How do I fix it?)
In many ways I feel like my life started 6 years ago. Like it was the first time I learned to interact with people, for real. Like it was the first time that I met people who showed me themselves, and that I could show myself to. People that knew themselves. Knew who they where and are. Like it was the first time that I really met people, like I really understood social interaction and people. It was great. It still is. I don't know who I am.
It is very important to me to be right. Not about facts (although I am a horrible besserwisser), but about the way that I appear. Choosing to wear a band shirt because it is the coolest shirt, not because I really really like the band (But I should make something clear: I don't wear music merch with bands I don't like. I do, however, wear some shirts more often than they deserve. I like Christdriver and German Oak, but not as much as I like their shirts). The only place where I don't feel like a total idiot, where I know I am right is when I wear my 'uniform' and is among like minded. I feel like a total poser and pretender when I am at a fancy dress party. It is the school thing all over again. Not belonging. Granted, I don't feel at home in the metal or punk community either but at least there I know how to act the part. I know how to look like the coolest guy. I know the rules and I know them well enough to be able to bend them.
I must leave metal. Especially black metal. I'm not saying that I'm going to stop listening to the music or anything, but I must leave the scene and the culture. I must become something else. The culture is full of idiots and people that I feel like I have to hide such a large part of myself from (on the other hand, I know so many magnificent persons in the scenes, to).). Plus I can't stand the way people look at me. They believe I am like that. A sexist, homophobic, macho idiot. And I am not that. I don't want to be that. It's breaking me. That's another thing about the university. I really felt "how can I be taken seriously when I look like this? Who will respect me? Who will believe that I am actually good at this? I look like a moron." But this is how I look. In so many ways it is me. I just can't stand it. It is such a big part of me. Black metal has really helped me in a lot of ways. It has taught me strength in so many ways. But I believe it is time to leave it (I left it years ago in reality, but I need some sort of clean break). But for what? I don't know anything else. I don't know how to dress in any other way. I don't know how to be something else. I've had some help in that department, but is going away, I fear. And I still thinks it looks awesome. And I don't know if what I feel I want to be, what I want to look like, if that is just some sort of reaction to what is happening to me know. Is it me or am I just a reaction again? I don't want to be reaction, I want to be action. I guess what I'm saying is that I don't want to play the part anymore. I want to be me. All of me. All the time.
I feel like such a weakling and traitor for writing this. I'm sorry.
I feel very strange when I see people with designer clothes or designer brands. I feel bad. I feel they look down on me, in my cheap jeans and cheap shoes and discount shirt. I don't fit. And I don't know how to. I've fought against fitting in for so long. "They don't want me? Fuck them! I don't need them!" But I feel like such a loser. I'm 25 and I have the same shitty dead end job I had when I was 20. I haven't moved a bit. I haven't evolved.
I'm so afraid of getting stuck in some suburb somewhere. Just getting stuck. I hate the suburbs. They feel dead. Full of dead people. People that don't even try to think. I have appreciated the last 5-6 years so immensly. I have been thinking so much and I have been so stimulated. I wish I could have stimulated my emotions to. There is so much I've missed. So much that I should have learned. But I am lazy and a coward. I'm so afraid of that. I am lazy. I am. How do I change that?
I'm so ashamed of myself. I couldn't see that I was loosing the only thing that really matters. I could have done something.
At times I hate myself. I don't even feel like a person, like a human. I feel like a chameleon. I don't feel real. I don't feel like a real person.
My self esteem has always been very low. There are very few things I believe that I am good at. I believe I know very few things that will actually take me somewhere.
I have always been the smart kid. Always. It was my only currency in school, so to speak. I was the kid who helped other kids in class, the one you came to when you had a problem in english or in history or in religion. I didn't get good grades, but still. I was smart. Everybody always told me I was smart. The only thing I have ever been. Smart. So I went to the university. It took me a long time to dare to apply. To dare to make the change, dare to take the leap. And I failed. I used to be a big fish in a small pond. It broke my heart. The only thing I have ever really been was stolen from me. No, it was not stolen. I wasn't good enough. I had failed. I wasn't good enough. I wasn't smart. The only place I have come to where I have felt "wow! I could spend the rest of my life doing this! This is ME! This is where it starts!" and I wasn't good enough. A working class kid thrown in for the sake of appearence with the real elite. The only ambition I have ever had, and I failed. Doesn't matter why I failed. I failed. And I was (and am) too proud to ask for help. Too ashamed.
I have always felt out of place. Even as a kid. I have never felt like I had a place that was mine. Friends who really where MY friends, who loved me for me. I have always felt like the second choice. I have felt like I must hide a great deal of myself.
I have never understood how things work. Not without making some big mistake that showed me "this is NOT an OK way to act." This makes me feel even more out of place. It probably has to do with the fact that I didn't really spend much time with anyone from the age of 11 to the age of 18. I was very isolated during those years, although it was worst between 11 and 13. It gradually got better, but I still felt out of place. The kid who got to tag along because why not? Not because anyone wanted me there, but because why not? Tolerated at best. That got proven to me when one of my closest friends told me that she didn't think that we should be friends anymore. She told me that when I was in a really fucked up state too. It destroyed so much. Some time later we saw each other by chance in the city and she smiled and waved at me. I was destroyed and emotionally mutilated and she smiles and waves at me? This being, that was the only one I had trusted with my feelings and who let me down in the cruelest of ways and she smiles and waves at me? So I sent her a text message saying that if we ever meet again and she looked like she recognized me I would kill her. The thing is, she had been dogging my calls and text messages all summer, and then when I finally got a reply and I was on the brink of self destruction I got that. I hate her. I still do. She is dead to me.
I met (by coincidence) someone who know us both about a year ago. I really like this person. He was one of the best teachers I have ever had. But I was disgusted that he still knew her. He haven't tried to contact med in 7 years, but he meets her all the time. The feeling went by pretty fast so I didn't pay much attention to it. I probably should have.
I wasn't the one that was always picked on in school, but it was very clear that if anyone wanted to, there was no obstacle to pick on me. So I got beat up on a couple of occations. I don't remember when this happened, but I was very young and the whole class (more or less) ganged up on me in a snow ball fight and really pummeled the shit out of me with snow. I cried and I screamed and I tried to fight them but it didn't help. The only one who helped me and comforted me when it was over was my friend Axel. For that and so much more I owe him my life.
Some years later I was locked in to the showers after PE. All soaped up and all alone. I told them that it was OK (because I figured they had to leave pretty soon) as long as they didn't turn the lights off. Of course they turned the light off. Alone and cold. The thing is, I don't even remember becoming that angry or that sad or upset. It was just something that happened. I remember telling a teacher, and it helped because I don't remember them touching me anymore.
(But I don't trust my memory. There are so many things that I have forgotten or remember wrong and it makes me a bit scared. Have I acted on things because I remember them wrong or because I don't remember them at all? Or have I forgotten some things because they really doesn't matter? Or have I forgotten them because I am a self centered bastard who can't see properly? Which is it? How do I fix it?)
In many ways I feel like my life started 6 years ago. Like it was the first time I learned to interact with people, for real. Like it was the first time that I met people who showed me themselves, and that I could show myself to. People that knew themselves. Knew who they where and are. Like it was the first time that I really met people, like I really understood social interaction and people. It was great. It still is. I don't know who I am.
It is very important to me to be right. Not about facts (although I am a horrible besserwisser), but about the way that I appear. Choosing to wear a band shirt because it is the coolest shirt, not because I really really like the band (But I should make something clear: I don't wear music merch with bands I don't like. I do, however, wear some shirts more often than they deserve. I like Christdriver and German Oak, but not as much as I like their shirts). The only place where I don't feel like a total idiot, where I know I am right is when I wear my 'uniform' and is among like minded. I feel like a total poser and pretender when I am at a fancy dress party. It is the school thing all over again. Not belonging. Granted, I don't feel at home in the metal or punk community either but at least there I know how to act the part. I know how to look like the coolest guy. I know the rules and I know them well enough to be able to bend them.
I must leave metal. Especially black metal. I'm not saying that I'm going to stop listening to the music or anything, but I must leave the scene and the culture. I must become something else. The culture is full of idiots and people that I feel like I have to hide such a large part of myself from (on the other hand, I know so many magnificent persons in the scenes, to).). Plus I can't stand the way people look at me. They believe I am like that. A sexist, homophobic, macho idiot. And I am not that. I don't want to be that. It's breaking me. That's another thing about the university. I really felt "how can I be taken seriously when I look like this? Who will respect me? Who will believe that I am actually good at this? I look like a moron." But this is how I look. In so many ways it is me. I just can't stand it. It is such a big part of me. Black metal has really helped me in a lot of ways. It has taught me strength in so many ways. But I believe it is time to leave it (I left it years ago in reality, but I need some sort of clean break). But for what? I don't know anything else. I don't know how to dress in any other way. I don't know how to be something else. I've had some help in that department, but is going away, I fear. And I still thinks it looks awesome. And I don't know if what I feel I want to be, what I want to look like, if that is just some sort of reaction to what is happening to me know. Is it me or am I just a reaction again? I don't want to be reaction, I want to be action. I guess what I'm saying is that I don't want to play the part anymore. I want to be me. All of me. All the time.
I feel like such a weakling and traitor for writing this. I'm sorry.
I feel very strange when I see people with designer clothes or designer brands. I feel bad. I feel they look down on me, in my cheap jeans and cheap shoes and discount shirt. I don't fit. And I don't know how to. I've fought against fitting in for so long. "They don't want me? Fuck them! I don't need them!" But I feel like such a loser. I'm 25 and I have the same shitty dead end job I had when I was 20. I haven't moved a bit. I haven't evolved.
I'm so afraid of getting stuck in some suburb somewhere. Just getting stuck. I hate the suburbs. They feel dead. Full of dead people. People that don't even try to think. I have appreciated the last 5-6 years so immensly. I have been thinking so much and I have been so stimulated. I wish I could have stimulated my emotions to. There is so much I've missed. So much that I should have learned. But I am lazy and a coward. I'm so afraid of that. I am lazy. I am. How do I change that?
I'm so ashamed of myself. I couldn't see that I was loosing the only thing that really matters. I could have done something.
At times I hate myself. I don't even feel like a person, like a human. I feel like a chameleon. I don't feel real. I don't feel like a real person.
Toward The Within
I feel like a piece of my heart and my soul is missing. I come to think about anything, and I realize that that thing has also changed or is gone because the piece was a part of that as well.
This is bad enough in itself. But it isn't exactely made better (quite to the contrary) that it feels like this piece of me has been given away to someone else.
How can I not feel replaced? I'm sorry, but I do. His mere existence is an insult.
I feel worthless. I feel like I'm nothing.
On the other hand, it feels like it is my fault that I am nothing. That I haven't taken the chances I have been given during the last years to evolve as a person. That all I am is reactions instead of actions and decisions. Something I must change. But as with everything else that has happened, I don't know how. I feel like I've been dropped on the edge of a desert and just been told to cross it.
I need you by my side in this. I know you can't be as close as I want you to, but I need your guidance. You are the only one I know who might have an idea on how to cross this wasteland. And I don't take hints and stuff well. I need firmness.
This is bad enough in itself. But it isn't exactely made better (quite to the contrary) that it feels like this piece of me has been given away to someone else.
How can I not feel replaced? I'm sorry, but I do. His mere existence is an insult.
I feel worthless. I feel like I'm nothing.
On the other hand, it feels like it is my fault that I am nothing. That I haven't taken the chances I have been given during the last years to evolve as a person. That all I am is reactions instead of actions and decisions. Something I must change. But as with everything else that has happened, I don't know how. I feel like I've been dropped on the edge of a desert and just been told to cross it.
I need you by my side in this. I know you can't be as close as I want you to, but I need your guidance. You are the only one I know who might have an idea on how to cross this wasteland. And I don't take hints and stuff well. I need firmness.
Monday, January 14, 2008
I'm so afraid I'll destroy the little thing we have left.
It feels like it's the first time I'm alone. On my own. I'm afraid. What if I turn into someone I don't like? What if I turn into someone horrible? Someone who destroys the little thing. I have come to realize that I don't know myself.
It feels hopeless. And on top of it all, the inflation is rising and there's a recession coming. It feels like the nineties all over again. GREAT!
It feels like it's the first time I'm alone. On my own. I'm afraid. What if I turn into someone I don't like? What if I turn into someone horrible? Someone who destroys the little thing. I have come to realize that I don't know myself.
It feels hopeless. And on top of it all, the inflation is rising and there's a recession coming. It feels like the nineties all over again. GREAT!
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Dead Can Dance
This is not really my song. It really belongs to a friend of mine, so to speak. And although it doesn't really deal with me, it still does in some ways. It is strange how music works, and what we interpret into music and lyrics.
For my birthday (a long way from now) I want the whole Dead Can Dance discography. The things I've downloaded doesn't really work. It seems like it is a lot of half songs and such.
I've always felt apart, but now... It helps being around people. But I don't know anyone. Anymore. It doesn't even feel like the cats know me anymore.
On the other hand, it was quite relieving to get a bit drunk with people that don't really know me (and I don't know them either). Just laughing a bit, talking shit and stuff. But in retrospect I don't really know if it was such a great move. Hangovers don't do much good for the sadness, so to speak.
For my birthday (a long way from now) I want the whole Dead Can Dance discography. The things I've downloaded doesn't really work. It seems like it is a lot of half songs and such.
I've always felt apart, but now... It helps being around people. But I don't know anyone. Anymore. It doesn't even feel like the cats know me anymore.
On the other hand, it was quite relieving to get a bit drunk with people that don't really know me (and I don't know them either). Just laughing a bit, talking shit and stuff. But in retrospect I don't really know if it was such a great move. Hangovers don't do much good for the sadness, so to speak.
People say that I should work a lot, to keep myself occupied. If I had a job that worked that way... My job concists of waiting a lot. Don't really keep myself occupied.
I don't think I have ever disliked my customers as much as today.
And why is someone from saudi arabia looking for nude girls on my blog?
And another thing: how do you keep from not being an idiot when it comes to money? How come people with just about as much money as me can consume so much more than me? How do they do it? What is the secret?
I don't think I have ever disliked my customers as much as today.
And why is someone from saudi arabia looking for nude girls on my blog?
And another thing: how do you keep from not being an idiot when it comes to money? How come people with just about as much money as me can consume so much more than me? How do they do it? What is the secret?
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Here Be Monsters
So I'm back to work. Feels strange. Feels like I haven't been here for so long. It's just as boring as it always is.
I feel like some kind of physical change is also needed, as some sort of symbol. As a mark. Silly, I guess. But in many ways I think and act in symbols. On the other hand, I don't want to make that change (whatever that might be) until I really have changed. Do you understand what I am getting at? I just hope I can keep on the straight & narrow (if you know what I mean).
I'm so bored. I just want to go home.
Something just came to mind. Something that was discussed some time ago. Self respect. Obviously something that I don't have a great deal of. Sometimes (often) you just want to hear what other people sya about you, just to know who you are. It feels like I always look a bit too deep into myself. And not in the right places either.
The BIG problem ahead of me is "HOW?" How am I going to do this? I don't have a clue. This territory is new to me. Talk... I don't know how, really (unless I am provoced). There is som much I don't understand. People tell me and talk to me and stuff, but so often I just don't really get it. I understand the words, but I don't understand the concept. At least that is what it feels like.
I feel like some kind of physical change is also needed, as some sort of symbol. As a mark. Silly, I guess. But in many ways I think and act in symbols. On the other hand, I don't want to make that change (whatever that might be) until I really have changed. Do you understand what I am getting at? I just hope I can keep on the straight & narrow (if you know what I mean).
I'm so bored. I just want to go home.
Something just came to mind. Something that was discussed some time ago. Self respect. Obviously something that I don't have a great deal of. Sometimes (often) you just want to hear what other people sya about you, just to know who you are. It feels like I always look a bit too deep into myself. And not in the right places either.
The BIG problem ahead of me is "HOW?" How am I going to do this? I don't have a clue. This territory is new to me. Talk... I don't know how, really (unless I am provoced). There is som much I don't understand. People tell me and talk to me and stuff, but so often I just don't really get it. I understand the words, but I don't understand the concept. At least that is what it feels like.
Friday, January 11, 2008
Echolalia
I...
I don't know what to write. I feel like shit. Sure, I feel calmer than I have for a month, but I still feel like crap. Feeling like all life has been drained from me. Worn out. Exhausted. And still... I just can't sit down and rest. Do I have to keep my mind occupied? Maybe? Probably. Spent the day walking around. Just walking, doing nothing. Buying a book and some other stuff. Reading a bit. I think it is because I don't have school anymore. There is nothing for me to study (that's a lie, because I have a bunch of failed exams to deal with, but not right away.). To just sit down with a book of my choice and not feeling guilty or stressed out because I am not studying, that is a feeling I have missed. And to be able to do it without having to worry about money... Strange. Plus, the real problem has kind of made the whole prospect of just sitting down and be fed entertainment through the TV kind of disgusting (not to mention worrying about money. Fuck that, you know?). I feel like I must activate myself, in the ways that I choose. Activate my mind, my heart, my soul, my emotions. It needs to be done, and it needs to start now.
I should have done this sooner, I think.
Got some of the old dirty feelings left in me. Hard to get rid of.
But I have gotten more than I hoped for, and more than I deserve so I will be alright.
In one way it is incredibly invigorating not knowing what I'll do tomorrow. Just take it as it comes. On the other hand, it is very frightening.
I just feel like a piece of my soul is missing. But it is like it is, right now. As I said, I have gotten more than I hoped for and more than I deserve, and just that is magnificent.
I believe this band will be the soundtrack to a large part of my near future:
I don't know what to write. I feel like shit. Sure, I feel calmer than I have for a month, but I still feel like crap. Feeling like all life has been drained from me. Worn out. Exhausted. And still... I just can't sit down and rest. Do I have to keep my mind occupied? Maybe? Probably. Spent the day walking around. Just walking, doing nothing. Buying a book and some other stuff. Reading a bit. I think it is because I don't have school anymore. There is nothing for me to study (that's a lie, because I have a bunch of failed exams to deal with, but not right away.). To just sit down with a book of my choice and not feeling guilty or stressed out because I am not studying, that is a feeling I have missed. And to be able to do it without having to worry about money... Strange. Plus, the real problem has kind of made the whole prospect of just sitting down and be fed entertainment through the TV kind of disgusting (not to mention worrying about money. Fuck that, you know?). I feel like I must activate myself, in the ways that I choose. Activate my mind, my heart, my soul, my emotions. It needs to be done, and it needs to start now.
I should have done this sooner, I think.
Got some of the old dirty feelings left in me. Hard to get rid of.
But I have gotten more than I hoped for, and more than I deserve so I will be alright.
In one way it is incredibly invigorating not knowing what I'll do tomorrow. Just take it as it comes. On the other hand, it is very frightening.
I just feel like a piece of my soul is missing. But it is like it is, right now. As I said, I have gotten more than I hoped for and more than I deserve, and just that is magnificent.
I believe this band will be the soundtrack to a large part of my near future:
Strangeness...
It feels very very strange to be sleeping on someones sofa. Especially when it isn't just for one night, you know? Not necesserily bad, but strange.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Ethos
During the last few years I have developed a personal philosophy and ethics that in many ways is very harsh and unforgiving. I now doubt that I was emotionally ready for it. I wonder to what extent it is responsible for my behaviour during the last year. I believe it to have played a large part (I'm not trying to blame this philosophy. The philosophy came from me and thus, is me. It has been my mistakes, my actions, my responsibility. The philosophy has just been some sort of concretization of me and who I want to be.).
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
If it's not broken, why fix it?
There's so much I remember now. That I had forgotten. Signs I should have seen. Not about Our problem (well it is our problem, but it is not The problem that I have right now), but about her. Things I ignored because they were too far from me. Morally and emotionally. They scared me. I should have seen them. I should have seen them more clearly. I should have dealt with them. Instead I choose to forget them, ignore them, avoid them.
Just saw a part of a mini series about Sartre. I remember she said things about Sartre and de Beauvoir ages ago, back at the old place. I remember her saying things when we saw that documentary. I wish I had paid closer attention and made the choice to confront it, to confront myself. But I am too scared of myself. Too scared to change things. I am not a fighter. I've always wanted to hide from the world. That's why I read so much as a child. That's why I listen to music. That's why I always listen to my iPod when I am not at home. That's why I hate when people look at me at the subway. The world still scares me so. So I run. And hide. If I can't see it, it is not there.
I wish I had the guts to confront myself. To confront the world. I wish I was more like her. I recently described myself as emotionally nearsighted. Not really true. I have kept my eyes on the ground, desperately trying to avoid the horizon. Each new day brings a new terror. I have not had the guts to confront it.
Q: -If it's not broken, why fix it?
A: -Because maintanance is always necessary.
I fucked up the maintanance.
I hope I remember all this (all these thoughts and feelings and insights). That has been my problem in the past. I tend to forget and ignore. I hope I remember. I hope someone has the guts and interest to tell me when I stray. I hope I can see them and hear them then.
I hope I can get over this (me). And that (him). It is eating my soul away. It is tearing slivers from my heart and devouring them like a ugly, foul smelling monster, grinning in carnivorous glee at me when it sees my pain and my tears, savouring every piece and every drop.
It took so long for me to realize this. I want to change. I really want to change now. Not because of her or us, but because of me. I can't be this person anymore. I'm crying right now. For once not because of the Situation, but because of my situation. I feel a great grief over the time I have wasted. The lives I have wasted. The things I have wasted. I so hope that I don't fall back in the same old tracks. Even if she and I don't end up like I want to, even if that becomes so ugly and twisted and evil that we never can talk or see each other again I don't want to to be like this. An emotional, weak, cowardly cripple. I want to be strong and beautiful. I want to grow. I have felt so small during the last 2 years. The only ambition I've ever had in my life got shot to pieces before it ever took of the ground. It takes so much for me to admit it, but I got nothing to lose now. If I had admitted it earlier I might still have things to lose.
She has tought me so much and I am so grateful. If ot wasn't for the fact that I would get a smack on the head and be called a fantasy-nerd I would refer to her as my warrior woman. Come to think of it, I will probably get a new one torn just for writing this, but what can I say? It is the new me. Like it or leave. ;)
I hope I can be forgiven for being the small and lowly creature I have been. I hope I can make you proud one day. I hope I can prove myself worthy.
I hope I have the strenght to let This/That be. To let it rest. To let the scars grow. Not to pick at the open wound and not to pick at the scabs.
This song is important to me. It used to be me. But now it feels like an insult. Not to me, though. Not to me.
Yes, I know it is a commercial. That doesn't make it any less beautiful and it doesn't make the song worse.
Just saw a part of a mini series about Sartre. I remember she said things about Sartre and de Beauvoir ages ago, back at the old place. I remember her saying things when we saw that documentary. I wish I had paid closer attention and made the choice to confront it, to confront myself. But I am too scared of myself. Too scared to change things. I am not a fighter. I've always wanted to hide from the world. That's why I read so much as a child. That's why I listen to music. That's why I always listen to my iPod when I am not at home. That's why I hate when people look at me at the subway. The world still scares me so. So I run. And hide. If I can't see it, it is not there.
I wish I had the guts to confront myself. To confront the world. I wish I was more like her. I recently described myself as emotionally nearsighted. Not really true. I have kept my eyes on the ground, desperately trying to avoid the horizon. Each new day brings a new terror. I have not had the guts to confront it.
Q: -If it's not broken, why fix it?
A: -Because maintanance is always necessary.
I fucked up the maintanance.
I hope I remember all this (all these thoughts and feelings and insights). That has been my problem in the past. I tend to forget and ignore. I hope I remember. I hope someone has the guts and interest to tell me when I stray. I hope I can see them and hear them then.
I hope I can get over this (me). And that (him). It is eating my soul away. It is tearing slivers from my heart and devouring them like a ugly, foul smelling monster, grinning in carnivorous glee at me when it sees my pain and my tears, savouring every piece and every drop.
It took so long for me to realize this. I want to change. I really want to change now. Not because of her or us, but because of me. I can't be this person anymore. I'm crying right now. For once not because of the Situation, but because of my situation. I feel a great grief over the time I have wasted. The lives I have wasted. The things I have wasted. I so hope that I don't fall back in the same old tracks. Even if she and I don't end up like I want to, even if that becomes so ugly and twisted and evil that we never can talk or see each other again I don't want to to be like this. An emotional, weak, cowardly cripple. I want to be strong and beautiful. I want to grow. I have felt so small during the last 2 years. The only ambition I've ever had in my life got shot to pieces before it ever took of the ground. It takes so much for me to admit it, but I got nothing to lose now. If I had admitted it earlier I might still have things to lose.
She has tought me so much and I am so grateful. If ot wasn't for the fact that I would get a smack on the head and be called a fantasy-nerd I would refer to her as my warrior woman. Come to think of it, I will probably get a new one torn just for writing this, but what can I say? It is the new me. Like it or leave. ;)
I hope I can be forgiven for being the small and lowly creature I have been. I hope I can make you proud one day. I hope I can prove myself worthy.
I hope I have the strenght to let This/That be. To let it rest. To let the scars grow. Not to pick at the open wound and not to pick at the scabs.
This song is important to me. It used to be me. But now it feels like an insult. Not to me, though. Not to me.
Yes, I know it is a commercial. That doesn't make it any less beautiful and it doesn't make the song worse.
Remember The Fallen
I couldn't even stick to my own plan. I'm a loser.
Hell...
I've been doing this blog thing for a year now, and apparently not much have changed. I'm weak and forgetful and selfish. I've tried not to be but apparently I haven't changed. I didn't see this a month ago.
I guess I am not the only one that needs some alone time. God, it hurts. I have never been this afraid in my life.
At least my brother has some friends now.
Hell...
I've been doing this blog thing for a year now, and apparently not much have changed. I'm weak and forgetful and selfish. I've tried not to be but apparently I haven't changed. I didn't see this a month ago.
I guess I am not the only one that needs some alone time. God, it hurts. I have never been this afraid in my life.
At least my brother has some friends now.
Monday, January 7, 2008
nightmare
I feel like I'm waking up from a bad dream to a worse reality. I've done so much shit. Really low things. Deceitful things. And I have had them done to me. I am exhausted and devastated and totally... I feel like everything inside me has been ripped out and then forced back in this little sack of skin that is me.
The glory of my life is gone. Everything feels empty. Nothing means anything (the good thing about feeling like this is that I tend to spend very little money.).
On a side note plan B totally imploded. Fuck.
The glory of my life is gone. Everything feels empty. Nothing means anything (the good thing about feeling like this is that I tend to spend very little money.).
On a side note plan B totally imploded. Fuck.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
"Du ska inte tro att du är nåt."
Ever since I left home I have felt that I am on the edge. And that there is no safety net under me. Never any security. Always from hand to mouth. In every way but one. And that has made me exhausted. So tired. I have felt a lot of new things during the year and things I wanted to try and talk about and do and stuff. But I feel like I have hardly had the energy to survive the subway ride home from work. Or even watch TV. Every minute could be used for studying. Or making something out of your life. I thought that I had one safety. But I didn't. The funny thing is that now I feel a lot freer in many senses, because I don't give a fuck about school or work. Just that thing that matters. But it feels so gone.
I read some old letters today. This problem is not new. I realized that now. And I am so so sorry. I hope it can be fixed, but I fear it is too late. And I hate myself. And I hate them. I really really hate them. I guess it was OK when I felt like there was some hope, but now... I feel left. Used. Abandoned. Spat at. Deserted. Betrayed.
And I know that is not the truth either. But it feels that way.
I feel... I feel like I have been made/forced to change in so many different ways. In many ways a good change, but I fear that there is an amount of resentment inside me. And that the way the changes has been provoced has made me sort of not in charge. Lethargic. Not knowing how to do or what to do. Chicken of me, I know.
Talk? I don't know what about. I have never known. Don't know what I feel. Don't know what they are called. I don't recognize what feeling is what. And I... I feel like a child.
I feel like throwing up all the time.
I have nothing. I am nothing.
I read some old letters today. This problem is not new. I realized that now. And I am so so sorry. I hope it can be fixed, but I fear it is too late. And I hate myself. And I hate them. I really really hate them. I guess it was OK when I felt like there was some hope, but now... I feel left. Used. Abandoned. Spat at. Deserted. Betrayed.
And I know that is not the truth either. But it feels that way.
I feel... I feel like I have been made/forced to change in so many different ways. In many ways a good change, but I fear that there is an amount of resentment inside me. And that the way the changes has been provoced has made me sort of not in charge. Lethargic. Not knowing how to do or what to do. Chicken of me, I know.
Talk? I don't know what about. I have never known. Don't know what I feel. Don't know what they are called. I don't recognize what feeling is what. And I... I feel like a child.
I feel like throwing up all the time.
I have nothing. I am nothing.
Night Time Abyss
And it is night again. Makes the thoughts spin by them selves. I got to get the studying going. The thing is, I am just as bored at life as I have been during the whole of 2007. I have no life. I don't want it. I don't like people. I feel like a hoax everywhere I go. I feel like an idiot, a loser. Like everyone looks down on me. Part of my reclusion during the last year(s) is probably because of this. Coming from a working class background and suddenly be thrown in with upper middle class students everywhere... I just feel like they are going to find me out anytime soon. Find out that I don't belong there. I feel like I am some sort of affirmative action/token student. Like a gay and gypsy on a Holocaust conference. I feel at best tolerated in the world. Not when I am with my closest friends (the 2 or 3 that I have), but everytime I am at a gig or a club or just out shopping or anywhere. I feel like the whole world is viewing me as some sort of... child (I guess that is why I am such a besserwisser and quite confrontational at times). I guess I have had a hard time facing that this past year.
I just feel lonely. I don't want that. But so far I have just been running away. I don't know if I know how to do anything else.
Fuck. I might just cry soon. I shouldn't. I have cried too much the last month. It seems like just yesterday. And it seems like a lifetime ago.
I don't want to do this. I don't want to force my feelings on others. I never have. But I feel like I am at my last here.
I'm sorry. I should be able to deal with this. I should be able to think this through in a rational way. But this is way too strong tonight.
I just feel lonely. I don't want that. But so far I have just been running away. I don't know if I know how to do anything else.
Fuck. I might just cry soon. I shouldn't. I have cried too much the last month. It seems like just yesterday. And it seems like a lifetime ago.
I don't want to do this. I don't want to force my feelings on others. I never have. But I feel like I am at my last here.
I'm sorry. I should be able to deal with this. I should be able to think this through in a rational way. But this is way too strong tonight.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Nice!
So, I had some dinner and some wine with good friends the other night. It was really really nice, even though I rarely feel at home among people (even my friends). The problem, however, is this: I had a totally chaotic sleep at night. I thought that getting drunk would make it no problem to fall asleep and stay asleep, but I had a really hard time falling asleep and staying asleep. Or I was dreming that I couldn't fall asleep. It was a really strange night filled with a lot of strange dreams and semi dreams. Not really unpleasant ones, just strange. Felt like the alcohol just brought them up because it had removed some kind of block between my mind and my imagination.
And my libido is more or less through the roof. At least it feels like it. But it is so strange. Porn does absolutly nothing for me now. Sasha Grey could come over and want to fuck me and I don't think I would get it up. Neither does anything else. I see boobs and ass everywhere and it just doesn't do anything. And at the same time I am horny as hell. Now, I know I can get very horny when depressed, but at least then there is some sort of sexual thought involved. I don't know what this is.
It feels like I have worn out my mind, somehow.
And my libido is more or less through the roof. At least it feels like it. But it is so strange. Porn does absolutly nothing for me now. Sasha Grey could come over and want to fuck me and I don't think I would get it up. Neither does anything else. I see boobs and ass everywhere and it just doesn't do anything. And at the same time I am horny as hell. Now, I know I can get very horny when depressed, but at least then there is some sort of sexual thought involved. I don't know what this is.
It feels like I have worn out my mind, somehow.
Friday, January 4, 2008
Blasphemic Blasphemy etc etc
Ok, since everyone coming here from google looking for Blasphemy-patches, Blasphemy info, Blasphemy records etc etc I thought I should give you some links:
Hells Head Bangers
Horror Records
Patch Depot
Revenge
Ross Bay Cult Rex (Official Blasphemy merch, among other things.)
(And of course, eBay and the Nuclear War Now-homepage. But if you don't have that adress already...)
Now, these place might not have anything right now but they have had stuff and they are well worth a look anyway.
Hells Head Bangers
Horror Records
Patch Depot
Revenge
Ross Bay Cult Rex (Official Blasphemy merch, among other things.)
(And of course, eBay and the Nuclear War Now-homepage. But if you don't have that adress already...)
Now, these place might not have anything right now but they have had stuff and they are well worth a look anyway.
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Waves
I think that between 2 AM and 11 AM I was awake almost all the time. I think I remember dreaming something between 3 and 5. And I might have slept a bit between 7 and 9, but there has been a lot of tossing and turning during the night. And a lot of weasel shaking, just to get my mind of my mind and to feel something else.
I hate being hung over. I hate januari. And I hate this.
I hate being hung over. I hate januari. And I hate this.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Haunted
I'm climbing the walls. I'm fidgeting with everything. I am online at every community and keep the phone real close just so I don't miss anything. And everytime 'something' happens it is with a strange mixture of fear and joy I recieve it.
In like 4 hours I'll go to bed. I don't look forward to that.
I've really messed this up, haven't I?
In like 4 hours I'll go to bed. I don't look forward to that.
I've really messed this up, haven't I?
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