Note to self

Must not read old letters. Not now. Not when it doesn't matter anymore.

Must not think. Must not try to remember. Must try and look forward instead.

I'm so tired of pain. I'm so tired of feeling like this, although "this" thing I feel changes a bit everytime I feel it.

I don't know if I am depressed. I think that I am mostly very very sad. Sad that I have been so stupid, so blind, so weak, so... So wrong. What hurts the most is the pain I've caused. Not to myself, but to her. I guess that is why it was so (relatively) easy to let her have what she wanted and needed even though it humiliated me. Because at least then I didn't hurt her anymore. Then I actually could make her happy, in some way.

I hate hurting people. That is also one of the reasons I have a problem with people and with relationships. If you get to know each other really well, you might easily hurt the other. I hate that. I hate beeing in that position. Feeling like I have the power to really hurt someone. Feeling like I maybe have to hurt someone.

Anyways. I've been getting some sort of pause again, but in a different way. For example: for the first time since I moved, I feel like I'm in a rush to get from work. I have a little something to look forward to. It's a really really small feeling, but it's nice to feel something moving inside me again, something that isn't just warm, slippery, rotten darkness. Something that doesn't feel like a moray eel in my soul. I'm just so fucked up that it's so hard for me to see beyond how this will fail. It makes it hard to focus. But I try.

I just hope that I won't hurt anyone.

Top Gun

I managed to pin point it the other day. When I am in a social situation I have like an auto pilot that just takes charge and does it's thing while I'm in the back seat keeping my eyes covered. The thing is that this autopilot is a bit too impulsive and it tends to have some sort of "offence is the best defence"-attitude. That's kind of a bummer. I'm quite sure that this auto pilot can be quite charming. But it is very much a learned behaviour, and it does not necesarilly stem from a will to be nice but in a will to... Not to impress. I'm not a great fan of people that thinks that I am "cool" or whatever. More of a will to... to show myself strong and independent, I guess. To make myself look like I know myself and like myself.

Not such a good pin point when you read it through.

Trench Warfare

That's what it was.


I feel... I feel worried. Worried. About? Don't rightly know. It just feels like every time something that might be good falls into my lap I have to dissect it and be sceptical about it and just see where it's going to end.

Like this: I feel worried that I don't feel. Stupid, innit?

I don't understand how you are supposed to work. How people are supposed to work. How you are supposed to feel if you are not a total fucking freak and a monster.

Perfection

It won't get any more evil than this. This is absolute darkness.

Sola Fide

I'm at it again. Thinking and feeling that I am too much. Too extreme, too loud, too stupid, too much of and not enough of everything.

Tonight I know exactely why I behaved the way I did last year. Tonight I just want to shut myself in myself, I want to stay indoors and never ever go out again. Never ever meet another person. No one. Ever. Just not let me be the complication that I always feel like I am. Not putting other people through the ordeal it is to be with me.

Yeah... Almost broke down on the subway ride home. Just wanted to go somewhere safe. But there is nowhere safe. There is no home. There is no place and no one that knows me. Sees me.

The thing is that I meet people, talk to people and stuff. And some of them have seen worse stuff than I have. They might have had it done to them. They might have done it to other people. But somehow, they are still people. There is something in them that is them. I'm not saying that they are unscathed by the shit in their lives. I'm saying is that they are... They have a core of... Of themselves, I guess. I don't feel like I have that. I don't feel like it genuinly exists something that is me. If it does I have buried it in something else. Some kind of defence.

It's thunder outside. And lightning. That is nice.
I'm with the cats. That is nice.
It's strange to be back here. Easier than I thought, though. But strange. Really strange. It looks like it did when I lived here. And yet it don't. I don't know what feels saddest. The fact that it looks like it always did and I'm not in it anymore or the fact that there are small small changes that shows me just how out I am. It's strange how small a mark you can leave on the world. In every way but one, I guess.

I'm just sad. That's all. Just sad. Not angry or disappointed. Just sad.

Galloping through the ruins

I guess what it comes down to is that I am trying to make some kind of peace. That I am coming to terms. I have no illusions that this is the end or something like that. I am fully aware of that there will most likely be more pain in the future. But I believe that I might be passing some kind of bump now. Maybe. I hope so.

I guess E. was right. You have to find a new relationship. Maybe it's better. Maybe it's worse. Maybe it's just different. The thing is this: I have a hard time with changes. In many ways I'm very conservative. Not when it comes to values (well...) or politics, but in my life. But I am it out of fear. I fear change. I genuinly fear change. And I have done so my whole life. Other people might have though it exciting to start school when they were kids. I remember it in every way as a genuinly frightening experience. Every step of the way. Other people might think that moving is an exciting thing. I loathe it. I fear it. On the other hand, the move I am about to take fills me with some sort of joy. It absolutely terrifies me, but it also feels... For the first time it feels exciting. I am desperately trying to hold on to that feeling, and though the prospect of moving this safe haven that I am in now fills me with sadness and melancholy it actually gets easier every day to think about the fact that I will be living by myself.

What I on the other hand have noticed is that I have a hard time functioning normally when I am living alone. Like now, because S. is out of town. And when she was down at SRF i felt how my little black pit was beckoning me. Although me and S. are living very separate lives and keep very different hours I still find it easier to go to sleep when someone else is sleeping near by.

I guess I will learn that trick to. The thing is that it's quite ease for me to stay awake even when I am dead tired. I guess it is because of my previous job which sometimes required you to stay awake for 20 hours in a row. For maybe 5 days straight.

I don't know...

On a complete sidenote, one thing that I just managed to put my finger on is that I'm really fed up with having to defend, or feel like I have to defend what I am, what I listen to and what I like. I'm really fucking tired of people trying to be funny and trying to be ironic about what lies really close to my heart. Like ironic 'cursing.' "Fuck forever off" to put it in the words of H. I will probably be accused of having no distance to myself, and do you know what I have to say about that? You are absolutely right. In some ways I have absolutely no distance to some things. After years of being slightly ashamed of what I like etc. because it might look "objectively" silly I have come to the conclusion that it just doesn't fucking matter. Looking at things "objectively" can F.O.A.D.I.F. What I wish for now is that the rest of the world that doesn't get it just stays the fuck away from things it doesn't understand and just acknowledge the fact that it doesn't get it. I do that all the time. There's a shitload of things that people do and is that I think is silly and stupid etc. but I just get on with it. It has nothing to do with me. Sure, I might not appreciate it, but that doesn't mean that I have to make fun of it. What I think other people do that is silly and stupid is just their version of what I do that they think is silly and within their cultural framework/context it is probably immensely correct. So just leave it. Leave it alone if you don't get it. We don't need you, you don't need us. Let's just agree to disagree and we can get back to our particular cultural illusions. Trying to do something else, trying to have som fucking dick measuring contest is like... It's not even like comparing apples with pears, it's like comparing water with fire (and on another plane it might be like comparing boiling water with ice).

If you don't get what I am talking about, I am talking about people that thinks that metal is just something that yu can make fun of. I got news for you: "heavy metal parking lot" is taking place in one part of America in a specific period in time. It's not reality.

Blaaah. If I might seem a bit grumpy it's because I just had a go at the disgusting whisky. It tastes worse than ever.

Momentum

I'm in some sort of pause right now. Or however you want to describe it. I'm trying not to think. I'm trying not to feel. And it actually feels like I don't have to feel anything right now. It feels like I have more or less ploughed through all the shit I can plough through. At least for this time. Going back to dissect them even further would not be constructive. I know what I need to know. Some things still piss me off, some things still make me sad. But that's just the way it is right now. They are in the back of my mind, and I have the answers and the knowledge I need to not let them take a dominating part of my life. Of my existance. Which is nice.

I know what there is to know, I think.

On the other hand...

...I sometimes just feel how my heart breaks for certain humans. I see someone, and for just a split second I see the beauty in them. It is always in outcasts and freaks, or old people. People who somehow are not part of the norm. Deformed people, sick people, ugly people. Preferebly the ones who just look 'wrong', but not so wrong that you actually can see what is wrong with them. Just for a few seconds or minutes, but still. Like this junkie I saw on the subway the other day. He had two black eyes, his face was worn and his clothes dirty and worn out. And I could see in his eyes that he knew exactely what the rest of the train saw when they looked at him. And I could see that it hurt him. I could also see that under the right/wrong circumstances he would not hesitate to kill me. I could see that he probably had a really bad temper, too. I could see that he had probably done a lot of horrible things. Some things he probably didn't even think about any more and some of them probably ate away at his soul. But I could not help but look at him and just be sad for him. For his sake. For what has been wasted in him. For what has been destroyed.

I am not going to say that I believe him to be a good man or a kind man. But I am going to say that I do not think it impossible that he is as good and as kind as he can be, under the circumstances.

The thing is... I don't know. I don't know if I was and am as good and kind as I could/can be, under the circumstances. I do know that I have never felt as worn down and worn out as I did last year. I hardly remember anything, but what I do remember is being constantly tired and constantly fucked up, in one way or the other. I remember that I shat blood several times a week a year ago. And I remember that when it wasn't blood it sometimes was something more resembeling snot. I remember that I could hardly fall asleep and I never ever slept a whole night through. And that is basically the only thing I remember from last year. That, and a fucking pit of worries, gnawing at my insides. Studies and money, mostly. I was so worried about the money situation that you can't even begin to understand half of it. And the studies... Don't even get me started. And i just didn't feel understood. By anyone.

But it is as it is. And I guess it will be alright in the end. I hope so.

I'm pretty ok today. A bit tender, maybe. But pretty ok. I still feel pretty fragile, though. Don't know how long it will last this time. We'll see. Will be having kittehs soon.

Nirvana

I managed to put my finger on it on the subway ride home. I feel like I have sold my soul. And now there's nothing left in me. There is no me left.

There's no joy. Even even when there are joyfull moments, there is always a bitter aftertaste. Of never really belonging. And in some way of no longer being able to belong. Because too much has happened. No real home. There are a few reservations, but not even there... Not even there.

I remember feeling like this. This hopeless. And then I would rush home. Rush home to her. And just to be in the same room would calm me down. Would settle me.

Today, I remember nothing good. I walked amon people today, on my way home. Bought milk and cigarettes. Looked at people. Tried to get them. But I didn't. I felt so alien. Like I was looking at people and wanted to ask them "what are you doing? Why are you doing it? What joy does this give you? Do you see any worth here, in this?" I don't know if I know too much or too little. But today, everything I see fills me with sadness. Today, everyone fills me with sadness. Today, everything fills me with a sense of not being able to understand. Not being able to relate.

I don't want to die. But right now I want to be totally erased from creation. Wiped out. No trace left, no memory of me left. Like I had never existed at all. To be nothing.

My loneliness shines...

And I can just see some things all to well now. Episodes when I just should have stood up and said "what the fuck is the problem!?" and just take the fight. If nothing else for my own sake. But I didn't. Instead I just swallowed it. And kept swallowing. Drove me back. Crept back into my corner. Into myself. Because you don't let them see what they have accomplished.

I remember numerous of these times when I remember feeling that "I should fight back or leave. Just show her that I'm not OK with this." But I didn't. Reflex? Cowardice? Does it matter? Plus, I am kind of used to things being my fault. To me deserving it.

And I can't honestly say that I would do it differently today.

Fuck fuck fuck.






















Fuck fuck fuck.

It can really get to you...

...being lonely. Like tonight. Being alone in bed. You miss it more than you'd think you'd do.

Not nice. Not nice at all.

And I can think of no cure. No viable, real cure. Nothing that wouldn't hurt more afterwards.

Fuck.

Well, I'll get to be with the cats soon. That will be nice.

Rock solid

Evertime someone hurts me, they turn into one of them. And you don't let them see that they have managed to affect you. Because then they have won. Just like they did when they managed to provoke me into one of my tantrums at school. Or when they managed to make me cry. They win.

And it's not productive. But that's they way I work. And the more the person hurting me means, the more I turn into stone on the outside. Because for just that moment they turn into one of them even more than anyone else has ever done. Because they have such power over you.

I'm trying really really hard not to be that way. But it is so hard not to. After all, this is the way I have been (or have tried really hard at being) for the last 15 years or more. The thing is, I always thought I was really transparent. I always thought that people saw what I was and what I had been anyways. I guess I got to good at keeping the mask up.

Had a nice night, though. Can't complain. Although I doubt I will be surprised again for a long long time. Right now I doubt that anything will surprise me. But I'm quite tipsy, so that's alright. Tonight everything is alright.

So long, kameraden.

Nornornas nät

It's like my whole world was conspiring against this. Like faith just threw everything it had against us. Not enough that the things I could choose put her of, scared her, made her feal ill at ease. Things I couldn't do anything about, things I sometimes didn't even see. And it just...

I don't know. If I wanted to run away, to disappear before, that wish has more than doubled now. And now it's so much more I want to disappear from.

Fuck.

I have come to realize something horrible. During these past years, everyone I (still) know has grown. Evolved. I have not. And more important, I have not seen their growth. I have not seen that it is OK to grow. To change. To evolve. I have created something that is not me. Not all me. And by seeing the world - my world - through that somethings eyes, I have not really seen things for what they are. I have not seen my friends for what they are. Because the thing through which I have viewed the world... It can't see things properly. It sees itself in others. I have come to realize that I have not let myself know myself. And by doing that I have not let anyone else know me, or let me know anyone else.

For the first time I think I understand what she meant when she said that I had to let the big one take care of the little one. That that was what it was there for. To care and protect the little one.

It's horrible, coming to the realization that you don't know who you are. That you are not a complete person. It's horrible realizing that you have mutilated yourself so. And it is even more horrible to realize that by doin that you have not only hurt and maimed yourself, your true self, but you have hurt people around you. You have destroyed beautiful things. You have ignored things that would have made your life so much better. And for what? I honestly don't know anymore. I honestly can't put my finger on what it was I thought I was gaining. I don't remember. I have ruined lives and for what? Absolutely nothing.

It is no fun to realize that you are still a child when you are just a month from turning 26. No fun at all. And it is horrible the way it has smacked me in the face. It is horrible to get your short comings pointed out in that way.

But it is as it is. No amount of wishes will change that. But it doesn't make it fun.

I feel so wasted. So worn out. So spent. But it is as it is.

It is no fun not knowing who you are. No fun at all.

Left hand path

It may sound like I spend all my waking hours just feeling worthless and sorry for myself. That is not totally correct. I am pretty ok most of the time. And in one way I am glad. Not glad that I am feeling like I tend to do or that what has happened has happened. Not that at all. But I am seeing myself for the first time. I am seeing who I am, what I am and why I am. I'm daring myself to feel. And although that in itself isn't a source of happiness it makes me feel alive.

Unfortunately, I am a pessimist afraid of just about everything and writing is my main outlet, so this blog might be a bit lobsided. Not untrue, just not the whole truth.

I am calm and need nothing today. Today, it feels like I can take it all. It's amazing what company do for you. There's so much I missed, so much I didn't see. And that is the worst part. That I had to go through this shit to realize that for example touching and beeing touched is important to me. It just makes me feel like... I don't know. Like such a fucking fool.

Yeah.

It's fucked.

I'm fucked. In so many ways. My imagination makes just about every cause of action impossible. It just draws up scenarios and just the the pain these scenarios cause is almost too much. And THIS scenario... It's not that far fetched. It is a very real possibility that what I fear might be real. And I don't think I can face that. Not when the mere possibility of it almost makes me fall in to a sobbing pile of used rags and wishes of a creation ceased.

And at the same time I can hardly think about anything else.

Summa summarum: if no one else pisses me in the face, you can be damn sure I'll do it myself. Golden showers FTW. It's almost funny.

Fuck

Not nearly drunk enough. Just sobered up and can't go back to sleep.

And I just remembered what an evil little fuck I can be sometimes.
Some things you don't talk about. Some things you don't want others to know about you. Some things other people don't want to know about you. No matter how much it bears on your concience.

Yup.

Och vad gör jag nu då?

Domestic Duties

They are falling behind.

God. Exactely how pathetic are you if you have to go out and down beer and drinks for Xhundred crowns just to be drunk enough to sleep without nightmares? I had some really disturbing dreams last night.

Well, at least I got a new experience, and that is soothing my nerves with alcohol. And boy, it works! Hopefully it will kill of the caffein.

MY problems doesn't bother me that much now. Sure, they are still there, but I'm learning to deal with them (at least that is what it feels like right now). What's been occupeing my mind is the relationship. I can't get it out of my mind. Where it went wrong etc. I think back on it and compare it and I just see diffences. And I feel like a used wetstone.

And I'm not drunk enough to go to sleep.

Fuck.

My therapist said that it is very common, people breaking up when they are my age. People grow and evolve and grow and yaddayadda. Maybe that is the truth. But it doesn't help. It just makes it feel even worse. Like this had no chance and we have been fooling ourselves from the start.

I feel like a used wetstone and I am not nearly drunk enough.

And they way it all ended... It closed of a lot of ways of evolution for me. Because no matter what I still have some sense of pride. And that is something I can't and won't let go off.

And I am not nearly drunk enough.

To make a HM-reference, I am (as I have always been) between the hammer and the anvil. And aren't we all?

And I am not nearly drunk enough.

Om another note: it's strange that meeting old friends has to feel so akward.

But on a positive note I felt how downing 6 cl of hard liqour soothed my nerves (albeit only momentarely).

And I think I might finally be drunk enough.

Thank you and good night.

Quid Pro Quo

There's a certain way that I act (or should I say react?) when I am in a social situation. I take charge. Or dominate. Or whatever. Take up a lot of space.

I do it because I'm nervous. I do it out of some sort of "offence is the best defence" way of thinking. But it's not like I'm thinking about it when I do it. I just act.

Sometimes I just want to cut out my tounge.

On the other hand, discussing things is one of the things I enjoy the most. But a lot of the time it feels like I do it for the wrong reasons. Like I do it because I want to tell people how much I know, how smart I am, how right I am. As I stated in the beginning of The Project, the only thing I have ever been is smart. So I guess I feel like I have to prove myself. Prove that I can bring something to the table. Hell, I want to prove that I own the fucking table! It's like winning a fight to me. And it's a fucking disgusting way of thinking and feeling.

A barbarian in Rome or a roman among barbarians, remember?

There are few places where I feel safe and comfortable. They are not enough and not all of them is the ones I really want, but I am grateful nonetheless.

Kisses

The thing that really makes me annoyed with myself was that I felt pretty good for most of last week. Strong. Brave. Facing the future. Keeping my back straight.

But it takes so little to push me down. To push me back. So little. I feel like the proverbial camel.

I really have a problem with people these days. I'm starting to feel like I should move to another city. But then I would have nothing. On the other hand, maybe that is what I need.

I'm so tired of feeling like this. It breaks me down and spit me out every fucking time.

There´s so much of me missing. And nothing to replace it. That's the difference. And soon I'll be in the deep end.

But I guess it'll work out. It always does, one way or the other. Maybe not in a good way, but in some way. It's just so hard to make something constructive of this when I feel my whole soul just curling up like a viper poised to attack. I don't want that, but that's what's happening to me.

What doesn't kill you only postpone the inevitable

Q: "Yeah?"

A: "Yeah."

Q: "Yeah!?"

A: "Yeah."

Q: "?"

A: "..."

Yeah...

There it is.

It's just fuck. I can't feel nothing but it. Fuck and some sort of rage. And a pit of... Nothing? Despair?

It just doesn't change, you know? It just doesn't. It's the same as it always was. I've just learned to recognize it. To live with it. But it doesn't change. Not in it's core.

I'm trapped.

Everything can just go fuck itself.

Bleargh

I don't know what I am doing. I don't know why I am doing this. I don't know the way out. I don't know where to go from here. I'm pissed of at it. I'm annoyed. And I'm whining a lot. Sorry for that. I'm just.... Things happen. I feel things. I behave in certain ways. But I can hardly see the correlation anymore. It's like I got some kind of destructive auto pilot in my head. Something that just finds something that hurts and steers right into it while the rest of me don't even know what's happening and BAM! I'm down on the floor hyperventilating and crying and just want it to stop and just want my whole life to never have happened. How do you stop that from happening?

Reich & Roll

Spending time with people is the only thing that helps. And it did, yesterday. It helped so much.

Oh, yeah. And alcohol. That helps a bit. But it fucks me up as well.

I can feel it creeping back on me now, but I will try and keep it at bay. It annoys me something fierce that I don't even know what "it" is.