Rag Doll

Some mistakes you keep on doing. Until you made them for the last time. Hopefully.

I should have known. I should have known. Serves me right, I guess. In some demented way I'm almost laughing inside because in some twisted way it feels like a fitting anniversary.

Hopefully I have learned to stop doing things for others. To stop trying. I mean, I have already killed of a pretty large portion of the empathy that I once had. I guess there's a bit more to eradicate.

Or should I do it in some other way? Like giving people specified contracts instead of trusting them to be able to use their own judgement? I don't know, I guess the judgement was used, but things I wanted taken into calculation wasn't and things I wasn't aware of was. Or something. I should just have kept my mouth shut, but what kind of friend would I be then?

I guess I might be accused of being unfair. And maybe I am. But I guess that I am just tired of taking some kind of responsibility, of caring for people when they don't seem to be able to do it for me and then trying to see things "objectively" and from the "moral higher ground" and all that shit. So fuck honour. I guess it really has no place left in the world or my life. And I should know. I got this because I obviously betrayed a trust. A trust I should have been able to figure out if this urge to help (or whatever you want to call it) wasn't there. I'm just pissed of and disappointed at the fact that I put myself ind a difficult position and that wasn't taken into consideration. But somehow I am not surprised.

So... There you have it.

When It's Dark Enough You Can See The Stars

I was listening to Robyn today. I really like her latest album. But today it made me, quite unexpected, a bit sad. And after a while I figured out why. The songs that make me sad, they aren't MY songs. And it ain't just Robyn. There are a few musicians/albums/songs that I only (if ever) listen to when I am an emotional masochist, songs and albums that have little or nothing to do with my feelings but more to do with me thinking that the song reflects someone elses emotions.

Sometimes I don't know what is me and what is me mimicing something else. Me watching the world and trying to learn how to behave instead of behaving like ME. Whatever field of my life look at I see someone or something else than myself. Me trying to adapt instead of adapting it to me. Sometimes I wish I just had the courage or the simple minded ignorance to NOT feel compelled to learning rules and codes. To just DO and not having to fear (or not realizing that there is something to fear) to come of as a simpleton.

It's strange how you can't let go of things.

There is no honour left in the world. Only feeding of the ego and the self. No honour, no real glory. Maybe it's a good thing, people acting like themselves (but thereby showing how small and impotent their souls are) instead of creating rules for themselves that they just get upset when they try to follow. God knows I am not innocent.

Winter Time Blues

...and if people like me so much with all my faults and shit, what does that say about people in general?

I don't know... I just feel like a fake. Like a cheat, a liar. Like I don't deserve the good things and people I got.

Can't focus.

Requiem

Winter is here. At least for a while. I like the snow. It makes the cold warmer in some strange way. And it makes both the child and the black metal fan in me glad. Nice.

People seems to like me. I have even heard the meaning ''I don't think I know anyone else that is so appreciated by his friends'' uttered. Now, this is of course nice to hear, but a question surfaces: Why? What makes me so likeable? In my mind it just makes me think that I am a good liar that doesn't know when I'm lying. At least on the bad days.

Dreams of Futility

I want this:
Its beautiful, isn't it? An iPod holder called "Arlanda" that looks like a mix between a cigarette case and a credit card holder. I want it. It costs 75 GBP. And I need to buy a new iPod to be able to use it. I'll have to buy one with 160 G memory/storage space, and that's pretty funny because that is more than my computer has.

The Center Cannot Hold

The chicken or the egg? How much have I become because of chosen interests and how much are those interests a result of me? The real me?

The Guilty Have No Pride

I have a problem with guilt. Guilt and shame. On several occasions I know that I have done something wrong but I am too ashamed to apologize. Some times I think this shame has been mistaken (both by myself and others) for anger and maybe arrogance.
So...

And shame is not a hard emotion for me to conjure up.

Anyhow. Something came up this weekend that made me react in a certain way and that reaction reminded me of another time I had that reaction (and how it feels almost impossible to act in another way). I remember this spring, when I was going to some kind of light weight therapy. That was nice and all, but when the counselor said that there would be no more therapy, no real thereapy, I just closed up. It just sort of blocked it up. Forever, for that person. And without going into details, I had a similar reaction. I hope I can get over it, but I am starting to remember reactions like that in my past, and there has been a lot of them. And it pisses me of. And I don't really want to be angry. Not now, not ever. It's useless.

I don't know what I am getting at anymore. Not when it comes to anything. I just constantly feel at odds with just about everything. It feels like the more I see, feel, learn and hear, the more I see, feel, learn and hear that everything is false and empty. This is an absurd, meaningless existance in an absurd and meaningless universe. Nothing makes any difference, not really. Sure, we make up differences to feel like there is a reason, like this existance isn't totally futile, but it is just make belief. I wish I could find something to burn for, something to strive for, some reason to improve myself. But it is futile. Improve myself? For what? It makes no difference in the end. Fight for something? It is all dust tomorrow. Love? Hate? Futilities.
What I want is one perfect moment, and make it last forever.

I wish I wasn't so controlled. I wish I could kill someone. Someone unimportant. Someone that just pushed me a little bit over the edge. Or at least beat someone up. Just let it out, for once. Let it out and win. Maybe it could be something besides rage and loneliness and isolation after that.

This rather crass and harsh way of looking at the world expresses itself in mysterious ways sometimes. My new 'obsession' (although it is a somewhat lightweight obessions) is Danish Design. I am intrigued by some of their watches. So I have decided that I have to get me one one of these days.

You try to find a point and meaning in the smallest of things, don't you?

Sometimes I think I am a chameleon. Maybe not a really good chameleon, but still. A chameleon. And sometimes I loathe myself for it. And at other times I admire myself for it. Watching myself and the world with a little wry sardonic smile.

Abandon All Hope

I feel depleted. It feels like I have given up. On everything. And I feel like I have such an enormous debt to pay.

I feel highly unsafe. Always. All the time. All I want to do is to feel safe. For just a little while. Have no worries at all. Just feel that it's going to work out.

And this debt thing... I just want to say that I am sorry. For what? I don't know. And it pisses me off. It feels like I'm using people. I feel so incredibly selfish.

I wish I could feel some balance when it comes to my emotions... I wish I knew how to deal with them, but they always comes out in various forms of antisocial behaviour. And this... Writing. It's so hard now. It is taking a heavy toll on my mind and on my soul.

I just feel like I have nothing more to give. Like butter stretched over too much bread, as someone once put it in a film.

Very little feels worth it.