Saturday, September 24, 2011

this is almost cathartic (but not quite).

I think it would be nice to write something emotional because I haven’t done that in a while and I know that some of you actually like my morose musings. However, my brain is still very muddled and I’m not thinking in a straight line. My thoughts are jumping from one thing to the next without much consideration for any one of them. But, if you’re interested, here is a medley of what’s been going on in my brain (and, to a lesser extent, my life) lately. A lot of it is fragmented: bits I’ve written here and there over the past few weeks. None of it is connected and, as usual, it is all very ambiguous and vague. Here goes…

Sometimes when I’m happy I worry that I’ll forget what it’s like not to be. I dunno, I think it’s important to know what that deep, desperate sadness feels like. I think it makes you appreciate your happiness so much more. But when I’m happy, I think I’ll never be sad again. Ha, what a joke. That would be nice. But a couple of weeks ago, I felt awful. Horrible. I thought I’d never be happy again. I’m happy now. Well, maybe not happy, but certainly okay. I’m okay. College is in full swing and even though I still don’t have much of a routine yet (apart from the ‘college, food, go out’ routine of the last two weeks), I’m settled. Things are okay. They’re not perfect. A lot of the things that are still wrong with my life are completely my fault and in between everything else that’s going on, I’m working on them. I’m working on fixing things. However belittling some of it is.

I am attracted to the kinds of people who need to be saved. Maybe I’m hoping we can save each other.

I kissed a boy the other night. He was pretty good-looking and seemed really into me. But then he said he was full of pills and high off his tits and then I died a little inside. Of course good-looking boys have to be mentally incapacitated to be anyway interested in me. 

Advice tells me that maybe I should keep trying for that one person, the only person I want. The only person I’ve ever wanted. But I can’t tell when it’s time to give up or when it’s time to keep trying. I want to. I want to keep trying. I was never a very happy person but since that ended, I’ve gotten steadily worse. I’m barely recognisable now. And maybe that’s why you don’t want me. I can’t blame you. I mean, look at me. I’m not a nice person.

I have déjà vu. I have felt like this a thousand times before.

I’m all sliced and diced and frazzled and muddled and just wrong. And you. You are so perfect and I want you to be mine. Please. That won’t happen though, because you’re happy now. Happier than you were when you were with me. You have a life now. What do I have? Just a whole lot of self-loathing.

And right now my life is too busy for any of the above nonsense.


  1. Listen, your not hideous don't be so down on yourself!

  2. that's nice of you to say although, rare as it may be, i actually didn't mention my appearance in this post. thank you though. x


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