Because you always deserve the shoes

I think that after todays expedtion we can safely asume that the plans for a spring/summer jacket is put on hold. So are the plans for cigarettes, alcohol, partying, records, books and food. But it's worth it. And since it's a pretty fancy brand and made in Italy and shit I'm kind of counting on that they will last me a pretty long time.

I'm starting to hear things. I hear a sound and it stays in my head for minutes and it creates new sounds and little melodies. It creeps me out.

Anyways, as you might or might not now, I'm on the prowl for a spring/summer jacket that is not made of denim and covered in patches. But all the ones I try are either too expensive ad of questionable quality or just wrong. I'm a skinny bitch and I like skinny clothes. Hard combination. But I might have found something on eBay. Give me your advice:

And maybe this one for winter use?

Anyways, more info about this stuff here.

If you got any other tips, let me know.

So. There you go. We'll see how this day ends. I'm not getting my hopes up. It's too weird and I am a bit too pissed of, fucked up and uncaring right now. And on the same time I'm not. But that is about other things, other people. There seem to be people that remain important to me even if I at times wished they'd stop. Hmmm...

I don't know. I don't know anything. I just can't get rid of this feeling of panic. Panic, waste and pointlesness. Well well, I guess I just have to push on through.

And I got a strange fascination for this shirt/sweater:I like it, I think. But I couldn't for the sake of my own life come to think of even one time I would wear a sweater like that. Unfortunately.

Well, there you go. At least now you know what to get me for my birthday or something. And yes, size Medium seems to work. Does that mean that I am getting fat?

Right now I can't even remember the last time before all this when I wasn't shooed away with some annoyed sound when I wanted to talk about something I thought was funny or interesting. No, thats not true. I can remember a bunch of times when I was completely ignored instead.

I'm sure there are exceptions. There has to be. But I can't remember them now.

It's funny that I miss my old life. Because it wasn't mine.

The ways we hurt and scarred eachother. I wonder if it will ever heal properly.

I've just came to realize that no one knows me. It's horrible.

Everything goes away. Everything hurts.

I'm so sick of this.

Chicken? Egg?

So what came first? The world rejecting me or me rejecting the world? Did I find a 'scene' because couldn't relate to humans or did the 'scene' stop me from relating to humans?

It's not that I don't want to help people. Or be there. Or doing things. It's just that I am afraid of the reaction. That I by offering my help will insult them, will tell them that I think they are failing. Or that I will seem needy. Or something like that. GOD, I hate that I am this way! I hate it hate it hate it. I feel... no let me correct that. I AM a social misfit. I don't like it, but I am. Everytime you think that I am not, I am acting. Or I have carefully thought about what to do and how to do it, because that is the way I work. All too often in a social situation I have to react with a careful laid out plan or something like that instead of some kind of gut feeling about how you should act. And I hate that. It feels autistic. It feels wrong. It feels like lying.

I'm just scared all the time. Of people. For people. And everything feels so pointless. Every day still just feels like a period of time to kill. I'm just waiting for the days to end.

I don't know what I feel about anything anymore. Meeting my family, meeting my friends... Don't get me wrong, they are wonderful people and I love them. But I just feel alone. I feel that they can't relate to me, that they can't understand me. I don't fit. Anywhere. Drunk as hell in a packed club and I just felt... That I didn't get any happier by being there, but I killed of my feelings by over exposing me to things. People. Alcohol. Music. Pretending to have fun, because maybe I'd believe it myself. But nothing makes me happy. No one makes me happy. Everything is so bleak and small and not enough to fill the void and when it goes away it just makes everything hurts even more.

Wherever I am or wherever I go I feel like a barbarian in Rome, if you know what I mean. There are exceptions, but those exceptions are no fun. When I don't feel like a barbarian in Rome I feel like a roman among barbarians. And the romans didn't have a respectful view towards people who weren't citizens of Rome... So I am either at the giving end or the recieving end and I hate both ends.

I wish I wasn't on the verge of crying all the time.

I'm so tired. I feel it in my bones. I feel like I'm a hundred year old new born child.

I don't even know what I'm writing or why I'm writing right now. I guess it's a way of making my thoughts real. I don't know.


And everybody MUST listen to "Turn the Cross Upside Down" by Oz. It's probably one of the best heavy metal songs I have ever heard and the chorus... It is brilliant in all it's metal kitsch.

I miss my kittens.

Illness/Alienation

Open letter from Jean-Paul Sartre to the original SPK.

Although the original SPK were of course loons, they were (and are) still interesting. And the letter touched upon quite interesting factors of our world, such as the fact that the capitalist machinery/system builds on and needs illness/alienation (or as it is put in the letter (although it is not Sartre's words), ilnnes and alienation is the "prerequisite and result" of a capitalist system.). In other words, the capitalist system needs us to feel alienated in order to consume so that we by consuming is trying to rid ourselves of the alienation. What the SPK did was taking that one step further and say that mental illness is a form of alienation (if I understand it correctly), that we all are mentally ill and what defines the 'healthy' or the 'cured' is the ability to work (although that is more or less a paraphrase of Sartre's words).

On another note I am listening to the Fixmer/mcCarthy-album "Between The Devil." Pretty good. At times Fixmer's techno influences shine through a bit too much and makes the thing feel a bit stupid (I know, I like VON and Archgoat and shouldn't talk about stupid music), but mostly they keep it under control and make those influneces just sound nice and monotonous. Which I like. No songs that directly stands out but then again, when it comes to electronical music it tends to take a while for me to notice such things. I'm quite surprised at the ability to make the album sound so 'alive' and pulsating, yet quite monotonous. I quite like monotony in music but it has to feel alive and I think they pulled it of somehow. I just can't really put my finger on why.

...and I listened to a new Nitzer Ebb song called "Payroll." It really sucked. All I could think about was Rage Against The Machine when I heard it. Awful. But the thing that made it awful wasn't as much the music as the vocals... I can't really describe it but it sounded old in a bad way. Dated (outdated even!). 15 years after it't time. I hope they don't think it's some sort of hit or something. I actually remember seeing them playing it live and remember thinking "well, this was a bore." And you know what else? They remind me of Venom, however strange it may sound. They played live 6 months earlier, they played mostly old hits and the played a new song that sucked ass and it sounded like "payroll"!!! I mean, the phrasing of the vocals was similar and I remember that I really was a bit disgusted by that song ("House of Pain").

Pause?

I'm not angry now. I'm at a bit of peace. For now. It feels nice. I don't know why, really. But I'll try and not look a gift horse in the mouth.

I guess it is a difference in personal nature. I'm trying to accept that. I'm trying to just let go and accept. But it is a struggle and some days I lose. But others I win. Right now I don't know what I'm winning, but it has to be better than the days I'm losing. I guess I am winning small bits of peace. Maybe even larger bits?

I'm just so worried. And sad. But it is as it is. Life's a struggle and struggles ain't meant to be easy.

En bra karl reder sig själv

It's just getting so real, you know? Moving and all. My dad going to be my bondsman and everything. If it's one thing I hate it's being and economical burden to anyone. I mean, I can hardly ask for a loan even when I am starving. It's humiliating. Weak. And above all, I don't want to be a problem in anyones life. A burden. So I just... Let it run it's course, hoping that I will pull through. And it tends to make things worse (as has been proven). I think it is something that runs through a lot of me. Humiliating to show oneself weak. Scary. What if the ones I show myself weak to won't help? Won't be there? What if I let myself fall and no one catches me? And what if I becomes a problem to someone? That is horrible. That is the last thing I want to be. I don't want to be in the way.

I don't know, I don't know... I'm just scared. Worried. I have no faith in myself or the world. Or anything. Everything is so... Either so fragile or so rock hard it's impossible.

On another note, I tried on a suit jacket today. I had tried it on before and I thought it fit me perfectly. But not this time. Pathetic as it may sound it almost made me cry. And I thought "no, this place is not for me either." And it was fucking H&M! Come on Alex! Silly stupid idiot. That place is for everyone, that is the fucking point of the place!

And I feel... I feel cheap and dirty. Even there. There's something fucking wrong with me. And when I try my fucking hardest to look "presentable" I feel even worse, you know?

I'm starting to suspect that this is just the start of something worse. I wish I didn't have such a working class perspective on things. I really do. I really wish that money wasn't so extremely important to me, I really wish that I didn't feel that being in debt the worst thing there is, I really wish that I didn't feel like the amount of money you paid for your stuff is more important than style. Or whatever.

Yeah, well... It's not like I really can afford that jacket anyway. Well, I can. But I have to keep a tight lid on the economy the coming months.

I'm just worried. And stressed. I am always worried and stressed (see above reasons) but now it's getting into overdrive. I got my paychek today and I got a pretty big check so you'd think that I would be less worried today than yesterday. But noooo.

Well, whatever. I guess I just got to try and roll with the punches.

Anyway, I guess that is why I'm so... Unstable at the moment. My material little safeness is comming to a possible end. It makes me twitchy.

Rubbish

It's fucking futile. Just straight through futile. Just time to give up. Change is impossible.

Tic Toc, Tic Toc...

I have discovered that it doesn't take much to fuck up an evening for me. Someone being rude, someone laughing and I think they are laughing at me... It spoils it. Just right through.

It's all the same, innit?

I'm thinking about violence again. I haven't done that for a while. I did it almost every night last year. Thinking about violence. Thinking about bashing someones head in. Someone who had bothered me. Someone who had bothered someone I love. I'm doing it again. I don't like to do that. It makes me feel even more powerless when the fantasies are over. Because I know they can never be real.

I do it when I'm angry. And I am angry now. I feel it bubbling up inside me and I try to keep it away. Try to think "it does no good now, no good whatsoever. Every chance of this rage being productive is over since I don't know when. Just let it go. Let it go." And I try. Most days I can. But not tonight. And it has nothing whatsoever to do with the break up or the immediate factors to it (or, as you might put it, the drop that made the cup runeth over). It's older than that. I just want to fucking scream. Beat my forhead against something. Smash my hand through a brick wall.

I wonder... I think it has to be let loose somehow. Or I'll go back to who I used to be (or to be more precise, I'll stay this way). But no one deserves to have this unleashed on them. Not now. That time has passed. That ship has sailed. Those bridges have beem burned. So what do I do?
Fuck it. I've managed to keep it locked up this far.

Islands... Islands of calm and safety in this mad, meaningless world... There are no islands. I feel unwelcome on all the islands. The natives don't like me. I'm a barbarian to them.

Yeah, well... Time to fuck this shit. Spent some time on the CryptoFa-forum, and that is always fun. And that brings something to mind: I want the clock from this site. Yes, I know it is in russian and that they have weird russian money and not normal money, but come on! I really really want it. My birthday is coming up in about 2,5 months. You can learn russian that fast, can't you? ;)

Love and kisses. Time to go to sleep. I shouldn't think so much.

The realization of dreams

I don't understand. I don't understand why I can't just see the world? I don't understand why I have to feel like I'm constantly on the outside? I don't understand. I don't understand why I can't go anywhere and not feel like everyone is looking at me and wondering what the fuck I am doing there? I don't understand? Do other people feel like this? How can they stand it? How can they do it to themselves? How can they convince themselves to go anywhere and feel like they have the right to be there? I don't understand. I feel so totally isolated. I don't understand the world. It's not that I want to be everywhere, it's just that I don't always want to feel like a fucking misfit! Like a fucking...

I don't want to feel like a working class tourist. I don't want to feel like a stupid metal head that's just wondered in and just thinks that he understands it. I don't want to...

It is not a new feeling. It has always been there. Always. As long as I can remember. Just going in to a store can be totally excruciating., because I know that they don't want me there. They might want my money, but they don't want me.

I battled it by isolating myself. It didn't help at all. It sucked all the energy I had out of me. I don't have any more energy now than I did then and no more motivation than the realization that I truely have burned all my bridges and filled in all my tunnels. There is no way left but forward. And once again I get the feeling that total failure is around the corner.

Total.

Fucking.

Failure.

I mean, why not? Everything else has fucked up.

I feel like I'm slowly burning from the inside. Like my soul is filled with acid. I feel like I am nothing. Nothing. Nothing of any kind of importance. Nothing at all.

Therapy?

I don't know... Strangely enough these last two weeks have been OK. No major meltdowns, no major fuck ups, no major drama. And it makes everything clearer. It makes it so much sadder in some ways.

I just CAN'T talk about some things. Physically can't. I try (and it is better now) but every time I try I choke up and I feel like I'm about to throw up. And I feel fuckin raped and abused for just thinking about the way I feel. And it's better, it gets better. But it is still so hard. And at the same time that it gets easier it gets som much harder.

I'm just... No matter how horrible these past 6 months have been, there has at least been a sence of freedom in them. But it is disappearing now. The sense of "I can do anything because nothing matters and there's just one thing I care about", it is going away. I feel the fear of showing myself week again. And it is affecting... Everything. It's harder and harder to open up to my counselor. Less and less to talk about. Well, not less and less to talk about, but it is harder and harder to talk about it. Harder and harder to be truthful. Harder and harder to feel like I can give her everything, because I am afraid to show myself stupid and weak.

I feel so closed of. Like at least 50% of the world is off limits to me now. And that is new feeling. It has been there for years. I think I had some pause in it the first years of the relationship, because somehow I felt that there where places for me out there. And then... It just felt like thre wasn't. And it got worse. But I had a bit of a bridge to them. Sort of. Now I just feel... Outcast. Pariah. Leper. Persona non grata. I don't feel I have the ability to combine myself with the rest of the world. In any way. I feel like a clown, like a poseur. I have this constant feeling that I must show the world that I reject it before it rejects me. And at the same time I want to be a part of it.

And somehow it has been made perfectly clear that I am not wrong. And in another way the world lies before my feet. It's just that I want it to want me there. To find me interesting, special and bla bla bla. I don't want to have to compromise to be let in. I don't want to find another mask to be let in.

I hate people.
I hate the human race.

Once again I feel like Grenouille.

And I feel like I can't do what I want either, because it would be so stupid in the eyes of the world. Like wearing corpse paint when you ain't in a band and you ain't on stage.

I don't know where I fit in.

I feel like I am playing. Like I'm a kid that's just finished a drawing and the parents says "that's really nice" when in reality it's just shit.

I just feel so wrong among people. That they can see that I'm faking it. I'm not afraid of them seeing the "real" me or how bad I feel or how worthless I think I am. It is much more superficial than that. And it bugs me to fucking death. So stupid, so fucked up, so wrong, so childish, so silly. I mean, come on! Eveyone else looks and acts like total idiots. I'm a fucking king among men in that departement! But no. It obviously doesn't work like that.

I'm a fool.

Does everybody feel like this? I'm starting to believe that they do.

I wish I didn't feel so alone.

Got the apartment. Are you supposed to get this depressed and afraid when you get somewhere to live? This is always my reaction to new things. Fear. I just see what can go wrong.

I'm worried. That's just about sums it up. Very worried.

Everything could fuck up so bad. Not just for me.



I'm getting very tired of seeing mistakes so clearly. Not just mine. It makes me angry and sad. And mostly, it makes me angry and sad because seeing them now makes no fucking difference what so ever. It's just painful and aggravating.

"So I'm pouring some whiskey, I'm gonna get drunk
Yeah, I'm pouring myself some whiskey, I'm going to get really fucking drunk
I'm pouring some whiskey right now, I'm going to get so, so drunk
That I pass out, forget your face, by the time I wake up."

I want to stop rehashing all this shit all the time. Just let it be. Just let it go.

French Names

Had a pretty OK evening. The trip home was awful, but I managed to survive. Went by Black Hole because I really needed to see someone. Just see another person that knows that I exist. Just be somewhere. Somewhere safe with people that are safe. Maybe even allow myself to fall for a moment. And it ended up good. I had a good evening. Not only S where there, but also J and M. So we basically ended up just talking and then fixing dinner and watched 'The Perfume.' And it reminds me of myself. In so many ways it is a movie about me. Rarely do I see myself as much in a character as I do in Grenouille. His lack of understanding, his otherness, his difference and I definitely understand precisely what he feels when he lets go of the hankerchief and understand that it is not him they love. It is the perfume. I see myself in the Grenouille that is portraid in the book, too. The total misanthrope. The shunned, scorned and loathed hater of humanity. The one that will make them love him just because he hates them so much. I know him. I know them both.

It is strengthening in one way. And deeply disturbing in another. I don't want to hate. I don't want to fear. I want to feel safe, at least from myself.

I need to talk to someone. I need to open up to someone. Someone new, maybe. I can feel myself closing and I must dare to fight it. I hope I can do it. I hope it will work.

It was an OK night. A nice night. I didn't really get to adress the issues that I wanted to adress today, but it is OK. Friends, excellent food and a good movie. That's alright, to say the least.

And I gave S my proposal about taking some weight of her shoulders and she took it hook, line and sinker. And it makes me a bit happy that I can help her. She is so precious to me. And that reminds me that I should go do the dishes now.

Crying Freeman

I wish I didn't feel so lonely right now. That's all. But I can't have what I wish for. Not exactely what I wish for. Not even if the "complications" disappeared, not even if she felt different. Because I couldn't. It doesn't work that way. There's too much pain between us. So even if I could have it, I couldn't.

And at the same time I don't want anything else. Anything else at all. Anyone else.

I guess it's true that you don't regret the things you have done but the things you never did.

It's one of those days again. Like yesterday. Like this whole week. Just want to hide. Just want to disappear. Go away. Hide.

I'm so scared. I really am. Because I know what I want but I don't know how to get it. I have absolutely no idea. Blindness and ignorance is easy for me.

I can't go on like this. I can't even work properly. I'm fucking up and breaking down. Everything just runs through my fingers, and it just runs faster and faster. It makes me so sad.

I hope I get that apartment. And at the same time it scares the shit out of me. Well, it might motivate me to stop smoking because I really can't afford to keep that habit up. And it's close to the cats. That's nice.

Over & Out

The night was alright. Sad and melancholic, but alright. Nice, even.

I just wish that I wasn't afraid of the world. That I wasn't scared of humanity. That is the problem. The big problem. People hurt you. They always will. And I guess I need some kind of armour, but not this one. But I need something now. I need to take care of myself, to protect myself. I need something. I just need to understand it for what it is, I guess.

I just wish that it somehow was a part of me.

I just wish that I could see the good in humanity also.

And I wish I just wouldn't care. I wish I wouldn't judge myself according to others. That I didn't care. Or at least, didn't care so much.

I hate it. I. Hate. It.

But it's OK. I got to escape a bit. I got to let it out a bit.

Ashe

It's been a pretty good day, surprisingly enough. Not really felt that bad at all. Some pangs here and there, sure. But nothing major. The only cloud on the sky was a customer who was both rude and physically threatening and I could just feel the neanderthal-part of me look at me in disgust when I shyed away. I hate that. I hate feeling ashamed of myself. It felt so good to not care about that, but it is going away again. And that is good in one way, because the thing that made me not care about that macho bullshit was just not having the energy because I felt so bad.

But now... I can feel the rage building up. The rage and the humiliation. This feeling that will make me want to isolate myself, because I can't face the world and myself at the same time.

Fuck! Fuckfuckfuck!

I can feel it dragging me like the fucking tide and I don't want to go back there but what else can I do? I don't want to isolare myself, but what else can I do?

What can I do?

Why couldn't I admit this when I had someone to admit it to? Why couldn't I talk about this when I had someone to talk to? Why couldn't I cry about this when I had someone to cry with?

Because it is so incredibly humiliating.

Fuck.

I'm starting to get scared.

Amazing

I come home from work, crawl into bed and have decided that the bed is where I'm gonna spend the rest of my life 8or at least the night) and then my roomie comes out and says "you want to gt a drink?" and I just hear myself say "yeah, sure." Not what I had in mind for the evening. Strange night, but fun. Managed to get incredibly drunk. I think. I don't really remember. I do remember that one of my oldest friends girlfriend got a wee bit too "friendly" if you catch my drift. Could become a problem.

Yeah. Fun night. Me and S wore matching outfits.

The thing is... I don't want going out and getting drunk to be my way out of this, because it is so easy to hurt yourself and to hurt others under those circumstances. And it's tacky. So I don't want to do it too much. Getting drunk and going out is supposed to be fun in itself. Some kind of spice in life, something that elevates your life a bit. Not something that you do to just block out misery.

We'll see how the day goes. I'm sure I'll feel like shit, but I'll live. I always do. And that's the name of the game, isn't it? To live. To survive.

But what I don't understand is how you can get this incredibly hung over from maybe 4 beers, some whisky and some kind of shot when you didn't get hung over AT ALL from half a bottle of vodka? I blame Jim Beam. *shudders*

Time to go to work. Just gonna freshen up first. And stop thinking. I really got to stop thinking. And I really got to stop remembering. Really.

Fuck.

There's so much I want to be, so much I admire, so much that I wish that I could be, ways I could be in, things I'd like to think is funny that I just don't. And I try to understand and I try to see and I just don't. I can't be that, like that, understand that. I just can't. It's not me. I admire things, I look up to things and it's just not me. Even if I want to. And I just don't want to find something, some shell or mask or armour that I ca put on and (even if I do it perfectly). I want to BE.

There's a problem with belonging to something and that is that you lose respect for it. You see it's cracks and it's flaws. And yet, I want to be home. I want to be. Be me. But I don't know what that is. I don't know who I am or what I am or anything.

Everything is wrong. Everything is dirty and cracked and poorly mended. Everything is just half assed.

I don't understand how I could blow it. It's fucked. I'm fucked.

I just want to disappear. There's no anchorage to the world anymore. I just want to disappear. Stop being. Reincarnation would be nice. Or maybe preincarnation would be better.

Fuck.


"I look myself in the mirror and I don't know what I see. I see myself and shit and NO MATTER WHAT I PUT ON all I can say to myself is: "what the fuck are you doing? This isn't you. Who do you think you are fooling?"


Why is that so important to me? Why? Why do I care? Why can't I just be? Why do I care? Why? Why is it important? Why can't I just stop giving a fuck about that too?

I wish I could stop taking myself so seriously. Just have fun. Not thinking that everything have to fit within a certain "frame." Just do what I want to. Just have the guts. But I don't know how to do that. I don't know.

I know nothing.

Yeah, well... Whatever.

This to shall pass.

Absolute Futility

It all feels so fucking futile. Dating, falling in love, yadda yadda yadda. It just feels futile. Like it's no use. Like it's humiliating just to try. Other people might try and find someone after something like this, just to have someone to be with. To me, that is just... I don't want it. It's abhorrent. Undignified. I don't want anyone new. There's something humiliating about it. Like I would work SO hard, try SO hard for something that doesn't even come close.

But hell... That's what I am doing now. And that's what I am giving up, minute by minute. Trying to find something worthwhile doing. But it all feels empty. So empty.

I might have an apartment soon. It should make me happy. And it did, for a couple of hours. But I'm just afraid that it will make me more secluded. I mean, just look at last year! Fuck. And nothing has improved since then, to put it mildly. During all this I have been afraid that I might not pull through, but now I just don't care. I feel like it's not worth it. Like it's lying to myself.

Nothing makes any difference. Nothing helps. Nothing is fun. Everything is futile.

I was happy once, wasn't I?

I can't feel like this. I'll die. And I'll destroy whatever I have left.

I look myself in the mirror and I don't know what I see. I see myself and shit and NO MATTER WHAT I PUT ON all I can say to myself is: "what the fuck are you doing? This isn't you. Who do you think you are fooling?"

Everything I am, everything I do, everything I think is a lie. Nobody knows me and nobody ever will, because there is nothing to know. And why would anybody want to really know me?

I feel like I am constantly on the verge of throwing up. I feel like my whole body might just fall into a convulsing heap that will try to turn itself inside out by puking. And I don't care. Everything hurts and everything is meaningless so I might go through this just as well as I might not go through it.

I feel like once there was a point in trying. Once, even when it was darkest and most chaotic and I felt like my whole life was a burning piece of rubble, it felt like there was a point. That I could repair it. Or build something new. Or that it at least was worth the effort to try, that just the effort was worth something. Not today. Today it's not worth anything. Everything can fuck off. The light in the end of the tunnel is not even a train, it's at best fucking firefly that took a wrong turn somewhere and can't find it's way out. No. Fucking. Point.

It's a horrible thing, putting your feelings into words. It makes them so much more real. Even when you already know that you are lying to yourself, putting those words down on paper... It just shreds... everything. It just destroys every remnant of... something. Of thinking that you do something because it might be fun.

I don't understand where it went wrong. It was good once. Where did it go wrong?

I feel so utterly utterly wasted and lost and fooled. God's got a terrible sense of humor.

The world is closed of to me. Even the places I once visited and wished that I in some small way could belong to is closed of to me. I can't even wish.

I just feel how any will and energy to do anything has left me. I don't want anything, I don't want to do anything.

Everything is just... Gone.

Can't sleep. Can't write. Sat with my pen and pad for 30 minutes and nothing came. Tried to sleep, but to no avail. Too much going on in my head, but nothing comes out.

It's not all bad

No, it's not. If it was all bad I would do nothing but write here. The evening has been good. Good sushi, good jokes, good people.

Yesterday was pretty OK, too. Nice to hang out wtih J and S at Black Hole. Just nice. I appreciate that. I appreciate them.

I'm just getting tired of being in this void, you know? It's getting boring. Annoying. And yet, I don't seem to be able to let it go. I miss contact. I miss sleeping in a bed with someone else. I miss being touched. I miss the cats. I'm a fucking fool.

But there are always things you miss. There are always things you lose.

So. I woke up early today. But I just didn't feel like there was a point in getting out of bed. So I didn't. Woke up around 10, left bed at around 1. Knew I wouldn't get anything done if I stayed here. So I took a shower and shaved. The shaving fucked up a bit because I didn't focus properly and because I think that my body reacts to my moods by being sensitive to the shaving. So I bled a little and got some razor burns. Anyhow, I went out and went to a café and tried to read. Didn't work out at all. Sat there for maybe three hours and all I did was looking at people and getting this nervous, almost panicky feeling in my guts. I just wanted to leave. So I left. And when I left I realized that it wasn't the people at the café or the café in itself that made me feel this way. I felt it everywhere. So I went back to the apartment and now I am in my bed and just... I'm waiting. For something. I don't know what. Redemption? Damnation?

I hate the stupid elitism in the world. Everybody is the fucking same all over the place. It's hopeless.

Well, at least it was teh funny to get into an internet fight at helgon.net's synth-forum. Jeeez, people are retards. But funny when you have the intellectual and verbal ability to put them over your lap and spank them.

And seriously... What kind of person googles "evil ways to win"?

Absalom

I'm worried. Not about myself (well, I am that too, but that is not what this is about) or my life. No. I am worried about the people around me, the people I love and care about. Noone seems to be even remotely happy. Everybody just seem to try and get through the day. At best.

Is this what it means to be human? Is it? Everything seems so... Untypical. Behaviour seems so... Erratic, almost. I'm worried.

I'm so tired. Tired to the bone. Tired in my soul. A hundred years old going on eternity.

I don't understand why I can't let myself cry with anyone else. I don't understand why my tounge just becomes limp at it is impossible for me to utter a single word when I feel really bad.

I hate this world and I hate everything that has shaped me. I hate the rules, I hate the codes, I hate the expectations, I hate the stereotypes, I hate everything that is expected of me. If I could choose exactely what kind of being I was I would choose something without sex/gender, age, race, species and class. But I can't choose. And people might say "make the best of the situation" but they are totally missing the point. I don't want the situation. I'd rather disappear from the face of the earth than follow all these enslaving rules. But at the same time I just see myself following them and rejoice in the secutiry they give me.

Sometimes you wish that you could hsve remained ignorant. Not knowing, not caring.

Kameradschaft

Took a walk again. This time around the city wasn't at all deserted. But it felt like the lyrics for Fredmans Epistel No. 81. Like I walked through the shatters of broken lives, of broken people, of a broken and destroyed tribe. And I realized that it didn't frighten me or even make that sad. I felt like I knew these people. The homeless, the junkies, the whores, the police, the cab drivers, the people going to their night jobs, the insane, the people at their night jobs. The invisible people. I knew them. I know them. In a weird way it felt like home. That was sad. And it made me feel safe. I know they try. I know they try to be the best they can be, despite it all. The lumpenproletariat. And I wonder what it was I was afraid of? Was it getting in to a fight or was it always being prepared to fight? I don't know. But in that world I don't feel like I am in the way. But it is a world based on being on the bottom. As all classes in all class systems it can't function on it's own. It needs to be in symbiosis. It is not on the outside. Not really. It is on the bottom.



I feel... Something. Like I in some ways haven't grown up and that I in other ways have seen too much. Became an adult too fast. I don't know... It's once again the feeling of being too extreme. Of being a creature too strange. That I somehow ended up too far away from the rest of humanity. I find myself wondering how much I am the perpetrator and how much I am the victim. And if I am a victim, a victim of what? And the most fucked up thing is that I can't identify with anything and I am too far away from the world. And I doubt I can return. I want the world and yet I feel like I have seen things that will forever keep me on the outside (at least on the inside). I think that what I will need to find a place among humanity is hope, love and streangth. The ability have hope and to love. Hope and love for the world. To see what's good in humanity. But I don't. I don't think I ever have. They have always scared me, they have always stepped on me and on everyone else.

I'm getting that feeling again. The one that destroyed so much. I think. I think it did and I think it's coming back. At the moment I am perfectly pleased with being on the outside. And the outside is no place to live.

What's wrong with me? Is it supposed to be this hard to live? To be alive? How do you do to really be alive? I feel like I'm scaring the world of by just being me. And I thought that the "me" I'm talking about was just the walls around me, but I am starting to wonder now. What if it isn't? What if there isn't any walls but just a monolith of black stone with my face and name on it? What if? What if there isn't someone small and vulnerable inside, but just more stone? What if that small and vulnerable person has literally been petriefied and fossilised and made one with the monolith? If that has happened just by pure pressure from the world, from experiences, from everything? What if this is all there is? And the thing that scares me the most is that it doesn't scare me.

How are you supposed to deal with this when every word disappear? When the feelings you had just... Evaporates. When it goes back to "normal"? I could pinpoint the problems before and now... I can hardly see them. It worries me. I don't know how I'm supposed to do this.

I don't know who I am or why I am or what I am.

I feel like an old sacrificial altar that has been forgotten and buried by time and dust and now people just think it's a strangely shaped stone.




The thing with being hungover is that while it can make me feel miserable and depressed, it also puts a sort of blanket over my emotions. I feel like shit but it also feels like it's put under wraps.

And my toe hurts. That's no good. I like my shoes. They can't hurt me.

I just realized that I have no comfy shoes here... Well, that's alright. I'm not walking anywhere.

Weakling Avenger

I just wish everyday wouldn't feel like a battle. A battle against what, you say? Well, every day just feels like the only thing I do is fighting to not give up. Just not give up. And it's hard. And it feels like it's getting harder by the minute. Because I don't know what I would give up or why it would be bad thing to give it up. Or what I gain by not giving it up.

The feeling is old. For years I have been fighting. Trying to keep my nose over the water and not having energy to do anything else. Feeling that it was important to not fall deeper and not give up. And now... I don't know if I feel that it isn't important, but it's just that I don't know if I can. I mean, humans do things. They have a job, a life, somewhere to live, friends, a stabile environment. A normal environment. So I have tried to get that, to do that. Because if I act human, maybe I am human. At least I ca pretend. They say that you get happier just by laughing even if you laugh at something you don't find remotely funny. Something like that. But now... It just doesn't get better. I just feel like I don't know if I have the energy to even try anymore. I don't know if the lie can convince me anymore.


Everytime I feel something it feels like it will last forever. That's silly, because what I feel changes quite often. So it would be nice if I could get into my head that it won't last forever. Hell, I know everything else ends. But it feels like it. I feel alone and I feel like I will always feel alone. And it makes it hard to fight.

I don't know who I am or what I am or why I am anymore.

Stretched On Your Grave

Couldn't sleep. I guess the combination of a day spent drinking coffee and an evening spent drinking beer (bad beer and not enough beer) took out it's toll. Plus the rest of all the shit that's been happening in my minf. So I just came home from a 2 hour walk. Walked through deserted streets in the south side of Stockholm. It didn't even feel like it was on this planet. Totally strange. Walked through parts of the town that I have never been on before. And yet I managed to stumble on to places that reminded me of things. How does that work? Bizarro World 2.0, you know?

I'm just... I miss and I don't. I see what once was in everything. Either by it being familiar or by it being unfamiliar and me not having anyone to share it with.

Schoolin 4 hours. Yippie. Right now I couldn't bare thinking and planning beyond the next five minutes. "Right now..." What am I talking about? It's been like that for months. Everything goes back and forth so much that I'm wishing for a fucking lobotomy. I have no rudder and I have no sails. I can't navigate because tha stars are blocked out. I don't know where I am and i don't know where the rest of the world is. I hardly even know if there is a world. Drifting on the seas of fate or something.

Blah! Going to try and get that sleep now.

Boys Night Out

Quality?

Personaly I would be a bit sceptical about getting tattooed at a place that also perform tattoo removal...

Some of the things I write here... It's cowardly. And does no good. They might make me feel better for an hour or two but that is no justification. I just wish I'd see what I was doing in advance. Sometimes I do. Sometimes I don't.

Yes/No/Maybe?

Three piece tweed suit at Emmaus. 680:-. The jacket fits pretty good. Didn't try the rest, though. The trousers are long enough, but too wide in the waist. As always I'm a bit sceptic about the lapels.

Waddayathink?

Found a black trench coat to, but the thing with trench coats is that they are always too wide for my skinny frame. It didn't fit bad at all, it just didn't fit like I wanted it to. But it wasn't expensive.

Some days it feels like I have to reconquer this whole town. Some days I feel like I will succed. Other days I just want to hide. Blow my brains out just to make it stop. Some days it's just so heavy. And some days I feel the looks and the snickering. Feeling like a leper. Or some kind of bum.


In one way I wish I could stop writing. It feels good to vent but it also feels like I'm picking at scabs instead of letting them heal.

I wasn't the only one who didn't 'see' the other . I wasn't the only one who was doing the ignoring. I wasn't the only one who didn't see. I wasn't the only one who was angry in a really unproductive way. Unfortunately. In a weird way it was easier when it felt like I was the one to blame.

And that's all I have to say about that.

Back in the Saddle

Apparently it's one of those days again. Apparently yesterday was just a fluke.

Fuck.

I feel black and small and just... bleargh.

No, no more time for this right now. Got to study. Got to get out. Clear my head. Find something else.

UK Fashion?

Hohohohohoho!

Am I really weird and stupid to find this totally hilarious?

Razorblade Love

During these past months I have come to realize that I like to shave. I didn't before. But then I didn't know how to do it properly + I saw no good in it. No good in looking my best. Quite the opposite. I felt that I wouldn't be able to hide myself and what I thought I was from the world if I shaved or not. Plus I was worthless at it. Hurt myself. It was really uncomfortable.

But I like to shave now. It gives me a sense of intimacy with myself. Of knowing myself. Of taking care of myself. Or realizing that I want to look good and that looking good makes you feel better about yourself. It might be a bit empty, but that is alright for now.

I don't think I've taken myself into account for years as much as I do now. In so many ways I care so much for myself, see myself, trying to be myself now more than ever. And in others I ignore myself more than ever.

Shaving is very intimate for me. It is very much about me and for me. In some ways it is almost sexual. Maybe that is the wrong word, but somehow it is the perfect word. And I realize now that it has been like that for some time. Strangely enough shaving is like sex in the way that sometimes I want to share it with someone else. It is something in the vein of someone you love just grabbing you by the lapels and kiss you just because they want you. Someone shaving me is a sign of affection for me. Someone doing that... It's like love. It's them showing you that they care about you. It's them showing you that they want you to look your best because they love you. It's them making you beautiful. It's them making you beautiful because they want you. It's them going to the trouble of shaving you (because it isn't easy to do it right) when you could do it just as well (and probably better) on your own. In that way it is like sex. Because admit it, masturbation gets the job done easier and faster, but for the most of the time you'd rather fuck with someone you care about. For someone else the same thing might be achieved with someone just straightening your tie or giving you a backrub or cooking for you or playing with your hair or something like that.

It's about giving and caring. About someone giving you something that you want and need because they want you to have it. Because they want to give it to you. Because they want you and they will work for it and they want you to know it.

And now I'm giving it to myself. I'm making love to myself. I'm caring for myself. I'm discovering myself. I'm getting to know myself. And it feels glorious. And it is incredibly sad. Incredibly sad that I didn't see this before and that I couldn't (or didn't dare to) put my confused feelings into words. It makes me so incredibly sad that I didn't see this earlier. That I am getting to know myself now and not before. I hate it. I hate that it's happening now. I loathe it and I loathe myself. But it is as it is. And to be honest, I unfortunately doubt that it could be any other way or that I could have come to these realizations any other way. And that just makes me sadder.

But it makes me wonder what I'm missing and what I have yet to discover. What mistakes I will make in the future.

I wonder when a day will go by without me crying? I thought that maybe today would be the first since the end of november, but it wasn't.

But today was OK. And I'm not asking for more right now.

Today Was A Good Day

The day has been alright. And for the first time in quite some time, I mean it. I feel OK. Sure, I'm still sad and down, but it's managable. The coffee was good, I got some studyin done, the company and the ice cream was nice, I just ate a pretty OK sandwich, there's not that much to do at work, I got season 2 of of Black Books" waiting for me at home and I had a really good shave this morning (my face still feels like a babys butt)... The little things, you know?

Now, the day isn't over yet, but it is a pretty OK day for once. And in some silly way that worries me a bit. But fuck it. I got a lifetime to be completely miserable in. Today I am going to be alright. Maybe not much more than that, but that is enough at the moment.

Oh, and I got three free days coming up (tuesday, wednesday & saturday)! I'm going to try and spend most of them studying, but if any of you feel like you want company or something of the sort, give me a call. I could probably use the break.


Just waking up in the morning gotta thank God
I don't know but today seems kinda odd
No barking from the dogs, no smog
And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog
I got my grub on, but didn't pig out
Finally got a call from a girl wanna dig out
Hooked it up on later as I hit the do'
Thinking will I live, another twenty-fo'
I gotta go cause I got me a drop top
And if I hit the switch, I can make the ass drop
Had to stop at a red light
Looking in my mirror not a jacker in sight
And everything is alright
I got a beep from Kim and she can fuck all night
Called up the homies and I'm askin y'all
Which court, are y'all playin basketball?
Get me on the court and I'm trouble
Last week fucked around and got a triple double
Freaking niggers everyway like M.J.
I can't believe, today was a good day

Drove to the pad and hit the showers
Didn't even get no static from the cowards
Cause just yesterday them fools tried to blast me
Saw the police and they rolled right past me
No flexin, didn't even look in a niggaz direction
as I ran the intersection
Went to $hort Dog's house, they was watchin Yo! MTV Raps
What's the haps on the craps
Shake em up, shake em up, shake em up, shake em
Roll em in a circle of niggaz and watch me break em
With the seven, seven-eleven, seven-eleven
Seven even back do' lil Joe I picked up the cash flow
Then we played bones, and I'm yellin domino.
Plus nobody I know got killed in South Central L.A.
Today was a good day

Left my niggaz house paid
Picked up a girl been tryin to fuck since the twelve grade
It's ironic, I had the brew she had the chronic
The Lakers beat the Supersonics I felt on the big fat fanny
Pulled out the jammy, and killed the punanny
And my dick runs deep so deep so deep
put her ass to sleep
Woke her up around one
she didn't hesitate, to call Ice Cube the top gun
Drove her to the pad and I'm coasting
Took another sip of the potion hit the three-wheel motion
I was glad everything had worked out
Dropped her ass off, then I chirped out
Today was like one of those fly dreams
Didn't even see a berry flashing those high beams
No helicopter looking for a murder
Two in the morning got the fat burger
Even saw the lights of the Goodyear Blimp
And it read Ice Cube's a pimp
Drunk as hell but no throwing up
Half way home and my pager still blowing up
Today I didn't even have to use my A.K.
I got to say it was a good day.

On a darker note, my thoughts and fantasies of violence resurged last night. Very much to my own surprise. I don't like that, because it means another frame of mind is near. The kind where the only way I can prove myself is by violence, and since I won't use violence... Well, I'll feel small and less of a man. But I'll try and keep it at bay, because now I know that it is there. Now I can keep it at bay (although I'm not really sure how. But I'll figure it out.).

I just got to figure out how you separate what you are from who you are.

Thoughts...

I wonder if I should get another pair of pointy chelsea boots? I mean, I wear the ones I have as much as I dare to (they are my favourites), but I always feel a bit guilty because I feel like I should let them rest a bit now and then. So I'm thinking I should get another pair and mix it up a bit. But I don't really feel like I can spend 1000 SEK on something almost identical to something I already own...

I guess I should talk to my russians. See if they can hook me up with something. Maybe they can fix the Vagabond shoes I mentioned earlier? Probably not, but who knows?

And is it only me that finds it quite interesting that someone from Zürich has googled my Celtic Frost-review?

Press FF KTHANX BAI

There's no joy. Only uncertainty. Everything just feels... Everything feels akward and out of place.

Nothing fits. Everything feels dirty. I took a shower earlier today and put on fresh, clean clothes and everything just feels dirty and smelly. Nothing fits. Everything just feels too wide and too short and loose and just wrong all over.

Sometimes my mind surprise me. You'd think that I would have learned that this is really over, that this is gone. But no. Once in a while when I think about it it still comes as a shock that this is really it. It's over. No going back. This part of my life is over. Gone. And I still get the feeling that I just want to stand up and scream. I don't know why I want to scream. Rage? Fear? Panic? Regret? All of them? Something else?

And I see so little of everything else. I wish I could say "I hate my life and I want to die" but I don't. I feel almost nothing about my life. I don't hate it, I don't love it. I'm indifferent. And I don't want to die, because I am not alive at the moment. It's like the weather right now. Grey and chilly.

Sometimes I wonder if my moods control the weather.

And I don't feel like I can do anything either. Everything I do feels like a betrayal. Of myself, of what I am, of what I was. I feel like a phony. A pose, and nothing beneath it. And it's not even a pose that is meant to be a pose, a pose that is there to point out the meaninglessness of poses or something else like that. It's just a shell. I don't know what's inside me. I don't think I ever did. I don't know if there is something inside me at all. Something lasting, something that is not just a reflection or a reaction to the world around me. Something that is really me.

Got to get back to work.

My parents came over with a bed. That was very nice of them. But for some reason it made me very sad, too. Meeting them here, in Sthlm, made me sad. I don't understand why. I sort of see how old they are becoming and how their bodies are betraying them and it makes me sad. And it revolts me. And that makes me feel ashamed. They are not supposed to be small and weak!

I just... I don't know. This bed feels more like a strange and intrusive element in my life than the sofa I've been sleeping on.

And it's just... I don't know. It's shit. I don't know what it is or why but it is shit. And it's not the same shit that I've been rehashing for the past months, this is something else. And I don't know what. I just feel terrible.

I feel awful. I feel the distance. I feel it so much. Living with S has made me sort of forget the distance because we both are seven million miles beyond the sun, keeping each other company in exile. But the distance is there. 2 people does not make a world. Doesn't matter which two people. I thought it did, once. I thought that was enough. But that just makes you even lonelier when it ends. And it does.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't as honest with myself as I am (or rather, as I have learned or forced myself to be). Walls and protections and everything just comes crumbling down so fast that I don't know what might be left or what will happen to it.

I don't know... I feel like the weather right now. Grey, bleak, humid and cold. Cold.

No, got to get in the shower now.

confusion

I don't know what I'm doing or what I want to do. Now, less than ever.

Had a fun night, though. Don't really understand how you can drink half a bottle of vodka and not only be able to walk home but also have a coherent conversation with someone (a someone who drank the other half of the vodka).

Not especially hungover today, at least not physically. Just a bit sad, but that just makes it normal. ;)

Evrything was a last goodbye. In one way or the other.

Growing Up

High School graduation just came to mind. Just remembered that no one in my class asked me if I wanted to celebrate with them on the back of a truck (which is customary in sweden) or if I wanted to take part in the champagne breakfast (also a custom). And I remember that it hurt a little bit but I understood it too. Because I was not a part of the class. Not really.

It was never a question of anyone in the class being mean to me or something like that. It was just... Not the same. It's always like that, in one way or the other.

I don't know what there is but this. The role and armour I have created. And I see it everywhere on everyone. And so often I see them despise me.

Working Out

I can't do sit-ups. Not because I don't want to, but because I don't know how to. I don't know how to use those muscles. I recognize that in so many fields, so many emotional fields. It feels like I have emotional 'muscles' that I just don't know how to use. I want to but I don't know how. It feels like I hardly even know (or rather, knew) that they where there.

It's strange. I guess I'm learning now, bit by bit. But I am afraid that I'll forget, when I don't have to use them. One day this will be over and I'll be alright again. I want to remember the lesson I learned (if there is one), but looking at my history... It's easy for me to forget. To let those muscles remain untrained.

Raus

I wish I could stop seeing things that are simply differences between me and other people as personal deficiencies on my part.

I haven't felt at home anywhere for so long. And I don't mean as in having a home. I mean like going to a bar and feeling like I'm in a western movie when I enter. Like the piano stops playing and everyone looks at me and thinks "what's he doing here?" It's like that almost everywhere. Even in places that logically should be home.

Do you ever feel like that? That you are barely accepted whenever you go somewhere, and the only reason that you are just barely accepted and not totally despised and thrown out is the fact that you just haven't fucked up yet. But you are going to, because there are always rules, rules that you know nothing about, rules that are there JUST SO YOU WILL MESS UP AND THEY WILL GET A REASONG TO LAUGH AT YOU, DESPISE YOU AND THROW YOU OUT.

I don't know... It's not as bad as it used to be, but I get pangs of it all the time.

So, friends and foes... I have decided to upgrade my wardrobe a bit. Not exactely, precisely this moment, but sometime in the near future. So, should I buy this tie:

or this tie:

Or something completely different?


Other news: Slept well. Woke up early. Didn't feel that bad during the morning (that's new).

I am at work now and got some kind of reaction saying that I should want to go home. And then I think about it and realize that I don't. I don't care. It was always a relief to come home before. To come home to some company and cats and warmth. To be totally exhausted in every way possible and just sit down and just... Be. Or at least that is what it felt like.

But now... I come 'home' and there's nothing. Nothing I can't do here. Or anywhere else. Just kill time and wait for the day to end.

I feel like a fraud. Everything I do feels like a fake. I'm slowly putting my armor back on (botht physically and mentally) and I don't really like it. But at least I know why I have it.

The Ballad Of Reading Gaol

Each man kills the thing he loves

Cats

see more crazy cat pics

I miss lolcatting. But it couldn't be done now. Not without causing more pain than the abstinence already causes.

But I miss my cats. I miss someone sleeping on me. I miss someone come up and great me when I come home. I miss closeness. Noone has been close to me (physically) for so long.

Penance

I said "I wish I could stop seeing things, hearing things, talking about things and think "she'd like this, I have to tell her."" And I do. Because I just remembered the fact that she don't care. And she haven't for a long time. Long before this started. I guess it just goes to show. Show how long this had been falling and failing. Showing how uninterested we were in each other. How we alienated each other. I don't know where it started for real, but my deepest and most sincere wish is to go back a few years in time and grab myself by the lapels and just scream "what do you think you are doing!? You are ruining your own life, you are destroying everything that is beautiful and you are doing it by NOT doing anything about it!"

I wish I could just let it go, let it be. That I didn't have to drag everything up from the depths and dissect it, that I didn't have to pick the scabs and feel all this sadness and anger. But if I don't do this, how will I learn from my mistakes? How will I see?

I made so many rules for myself about how I wanted to be and what I wanted to be and tried to be that, but it made me so angry. I felt like I limited myself in so many ways. That I denied myself. That I was denied so many things. Things I wanted and needed. And it made me so angry. There was never a basis for the rules. Not an emotional basis. Sure, I understood them perfectly in an intellectual manner, but I didn't feel them, didn't feel the need, the real need inside me. I did it because I had to, but emotionally I guess I didn't understand it. I guess that is the word I am looking for. Understand. I understand so little.

Once again studying religion makes me understand how christian I am, deep down. I mean, I don't believe in Jesus Christ or God, but I have a christian way of thinking and feeling that runs really really deep. Intent is as important as result. And I haven't had the proper intent.

What have I done to myself?

All I want to do is smoke. That is the only thing that gives me some sort of joy. It is mine. The little nicotine demon. She loves me. No, she doesn't but she wants me as bad as I want her. And above all, she wants me to want her. At the moment that is a good substitute for love. If I squint my eyes and lie a bit to myself, she is almost beautiful. I can almost pretend that she loves me.

Falling Angel Of Doom

I feel like a bad copy of a bad idea.

I wish I could let it go. Let her go. Stop being reminded everywhere. I wish I could stop seeing things, hearing things, talking about things and think "she'd like this, I have to tell her."

I once said that I want to remember more, remember better. Not tonight. Tonight I want to forget. Forget everything.

I hope that I can remember it one day without this... feeling.

But it is all falling faster and faster, drifting away more and more, further and further away. I hate it. I. HATE. IT.

12 hours later...

...and some sleep later life is... OK, I guess. I get trapped in circles of thought at night. And they are hard to get out of.

The most disturbing thing about last night was not the fact that I was so angry and sad and just fucked up that I wanted to throw everything I own on a bonfire and yaddayaddayadda. It was that I felt the old me starting to creep in again. The one that got angry instead of sad. The one that would do something mean and petty instead of doing something constructive with his rage.

That spooked me a bit.

I can still feel something building up inside me. It is almost a physical sensation, like something in the center of me reaches out into my every limb with it's tentacles.

I don't want this. But this is what I have.

I have to let go. Even more. Every time I let go a little more it is like barbed wire being pulled through my heart. I feel like I'm being pulled away with the tide. Or that maybe it is not me being pulled away by the tide. I don't know.

I guess I am just fucking myself up all the time. Maybe.

Time for a shower and then work. And tomorrow a bit of therapy. And school.


I hate the fact that they seem to have so much more in common than we ever had. It makes me feel like we just fooled each other for such a long time.

*POW*

"Back and to the left."

Someone just please pull the trigger of something aimed at me. Don't care what it is. Just something. Something needs to happen. Anything. I am glad I am in this apartement, I am glad that I am sober, because if I was out and about right now I would probably kill the first person that looked at me wrong. I just want to scream and kick and bite and rip and tear and claw and kill and punch and crash and knife and strangle and gut and throw and kill. I want to hit something 'til my fists break open and the bones shine through and then I want to continue until the bones break and the flesh falls of and the marrow pours out and then I want to headbutt something until my skull cracks open and my brain pours out. Only 2 times before in my life have I so desperately wanted to throw myself out the window (and both those two times was at the old place back in january) and now I feel it again. I don't feel like doing it because I want to die, I just don't know what to do with myself. I got electricity, rage and sorrow shooting up my spine and it makes my body and soul twitchy.

I just want to let it out, to let it rip out of my flesh and my sould right this fucking minute. But I can't. There is no escape, there is no "letting out." Not anymore. That has been made quite clear.

Can't someone just cut my heart out? Please? And keep it until I need it again? If not, I think I'll mentally stab it to pieces soon. And then it will really be broken.

I wonder if you can OD on Hypericum perforatum? I really really need to calm down.

I Have A Dream

I had a dream tonight. I don't remember what it was but it was disturbing. But that is not the point. The thing is that when I woke up and turned around and felt the back of the couch I felt such a relief for a moment. Because I thought it was her. I thought the back of the couch was her and for a moment I felt so safe and calm. For a split second I was safe.

I wish I could remember my dreams. I wish I could remember more.

I Can See Now

I can see that I haven't been able to see or understand other peoples feelings (or indeed, other people just in general) as I should have. I am getting better at it, empathy and maybe even sympathy. Maybe. I hope so. I see other people more clearly. I see their problems and their feelings, their loves and their pains. And I care. And it pains me that I didn't see it before. That I didn't understand what could be painful or damaging. And when I did, it circled around my feelings.

It pains me a great deal. What I have done, what I haven't done. Ouf of stupidity. Out of ignorance. Out of blindness.

And I guess now people will say something like "well, now you see and now you won't make the same mistakes the next time" but I don't want a next time. I want to have been able to see and act as I should this time, these past years. I still do. I want to repair my mistakes, not avoid making new ones. But it is too late for that. Too late. I hate it. Why couldn't I see it when it was spelled out right in front of me!? And now it's burned to the ground and now I am Pompeii. Or maybe Babylon, for those of you aquanted with Carnivàle.

Fuck.

The Point?

I just bought a sandwich for lunch, and once again that feeling of pointlesness just fell down on me. Why am I buying this sandwich? There's no joy in it. I don't care how it tastes (verything tastes like ashes), I don't care if I'm hungry, I don't care if I work or if I don't. I. Just. Don't. Care. There's no point in going to work, there's no point in staying at 'home', there's no point in studying, there's no point in not studying, there's no point in staying sober, there's no point in drinking, there's no point in listening to music, there's no point in staying in the silence. I do things just because I have to, so my material world won't fuck up even more. The only joy I have is buying things and having some sort of (imagined) luxury around me, but that joy is extremely fleeting and vapid. It's like trying to catch smoke or mist. And it's all just surface deep. I feel like a turd wrapped in gold foil.

Everything is so far away. There's nothing on the horizon. Just more grey desert to walk through. Grey desert and invisible holes of quicksand that I continue to step in.

Well, I got a little ego boost yesterday anyway. A lady (30+) tried to pick me up by basically saying only "shouldn't you come with me instead" after she asked me where I was going. I said no. Unfortunately, maybe. But I don't know. I don't want to fuck. I can't even masturbate properly anymore. And that's OK, too. But it was nice and fun anyway.

I'm tired of just existing.

Party Time

Going to get drunk. Right now I'm on the tram. Going to meet up P to give him vodka and get cigarettes.

I hate people. Wherever I look I just see people desperately trying to be their facade. Thinking that they are what they look like. Desperately fearing that it isn't so. Am I any different? That's the problem with misanthropy. Sooner or later you'll realize that you are a part of humanity. That you are no different.

I don't want this. I don't want to hate and fear everytime I step out of the door. I want to remember the good things people do to eachother too.

Rage

I hate elitism. Yet I am prone to it. It disgusts me and also makes me convinced that everyone else judge me as I judge them. Especially now. I don't know the borders. I don't know the limits.

I feel like a volcano that is too tired to erupt. I don't know if I know how to do this when it doesn't come pouring out of me like when a dam has burst. It creeps back into me. I push it back without wanting to, because I don't have the tools or the language for this. And I don't have any security, any safe space where I can try and dig it up again. No respit.

I'm so angry at myself that I could scream. I want to scream. I want to bash my head against the wall to punish me for my own blindness and stupidity. How could I do this to someone I love? How could I NOT see these things? How? Why? I have no right to feel cheated or robbed.

And all I do is putting a new layer of paint on this empty rotten house that is me. It feels so pointless, so meaningless. And yet I get some kind of perverse pleasure from it.

I feel restless. Like my body is full of ants crawling around.

Amnesia

I don't know what I am doing and I don't know why I am doing it. I'm such a fucking hack.

And I am once again reminded of why I hate humanity. And why I'm loving it.

Is it supposed to be this empty and lonely? Even when you are having fun? Is this what people feel like every day?



And I love this picture. Every part of it.

Bizarro

I really really want this:


Even though I got a new razor, shaving is still quite uncomfortable (one of the reasons I didn't shave that often in the past). My face feels like it's been peeled of, it chafes and I get razorburns and tiny nicks on my throat and on my cheekbones and have to use some kind of moizturizer several times during the day just to keep my sking from not falling of. But this line of products have got amazing reviews from just about everyone that has tested it. Sure, it might be a little complicated but not really that more complicated than what I am going through right now. It's just so fucking expensive. I'm sure it's worth it, but I don't got no 200 dollars to spend on anything.

And that's where eBay comes into the picture. Tehre you can find the set in the picture for about 80 dollars including shipping. But I don't have no 80 dollars to spend on anything.

This won't do. This won't do at all.

Furor

Right now, I regret everything.

Right now, I just want to scream.

Right now, I am so angry. So mad. Mostly at myself. Not because my actions have hurt me, but because they have hurt and destroyed things for other people.

Right now, I am so so sorry.

This is beauty

Enlightenment

"For me, there are things you do, things you feel and things you think. And these three are separate, and need to be. Or I don't really know what I will do. I mean it. If I act on my emotiones, jailtime might be needed. Not right now, but in the past.

I don't know what I want to say with this. Maybe just that I have had lifelong training in not showing what I feel about anything to anyone, least of all myself. I don't know."



I think I do know what I want to say with this. I want them to correspond. I want equal measures of them. I want them in symbiosis. I do not want one to take power over the other, has it has been in the past (although I don't know which one took the power.).

Letting yourself be sad is a relief. I feel better when I have been sad than when I have been angry, because the anger doesn't go away. I think I have spent so much time being angry. Time I should have spent crying. Because it was not really anger, it was sorrow disguised as rage. Because I could not let my guard down, I could not show myself weak. Not to anyone. So many emotions that I killed and ignored in myself.

Remember when I said that I didn't cry at my grandmothers funeral? That I didn't really mourn her? I didn't cry when I heard that my high school teacher had died. Didn't feel anything. There are many such examples, when I just haven't felt anything. Maybe I haven't let myself feel them. People have come and people have gone, things have happened and I didn't feel anything. And by not feeling, or rather, by not letting myself feel I have not learned who I am. By not letting myself mourn.

I do not think it is the unwillingness to face pain that has lead me to be like this. I think it is the unwillingness to show myself weak, to show mysel vulnerable, to show myself a failure, to be humiliated, to risk facing a rejection when I am in pain that has lead to this.

Up until I was around 20 I mostly never had anyone. It was always me. Just me, by myself. Even when I was in crowds. Even when I was with friends. And the few people that I felt I could depend on either drifted away, stabbed me in the back or I hurt them so much that I didn't feel I had any right to impose myself on them.

Up until now I don't really know if I really have understood the concept of friendship. I don't think I dare to understand and trust it fully now either.

I hope I dare. Dare everything. Dare to change my life, dare to do something with myself. Dare to try and be what I want to be. Dare to feel like I deserve it and that I am as good as everyone else. Dare to be myself. I feel like I'm slowly dropping the act, but I don't know what I am replacing it with. If I'm replacing it with another act or if I'm replacing it with something else.

I think studying have fucked me up a bit. Learning to see how everything is connected and HOW it is connected taught me that I have a place in the world. But that was not necesarilly a good thing, because the world is a big and ugly place and people get hurt a lot and noone cares. It taught me that there really is no escape, that subcultural belonging means next to nothing in the grand scheme of things and thinking that that could be the way out... I guess I have put too much faith in dressing in black. That I just don't see it as something fun and beautiful, but as something more.

I guess I have to get back to work now.