Today I've done nothing. Other then rejoice that scotland won the rugby against italy. WEHEY!?!! GET IN! And continuing this silent celebration, I'm sitting in my scotland hoodie, and I'm going out in it.
Another silent celebration of nothing in particular, new DCs. Nice nice nice. Next its going to be jeans and a new shirt. :)

Snapped. The last straw came and went.

I'm aware I haven't posted for a few days properly. Or at least like I should be doing. Its strange to me a few days of not blogging and I'm in more pieces then I should be. Here's the bottom line: currently, I'm an emotional wreak. I'm so overtired its unbelievable and currently I'm sitting in college.
There are countless people that have my back so fiercely its untrue. And if they'd seen the last forty five minutes they'd have ripped that woman - the apparent teacher who has little or no regard for anyone but herself- into a number of pieces. I'm about two inches away from walking out of college all together. Its one thing telling me something, its another belittling me to the point of mental distress. I'm not alright today. I wasn't alright yesterday either. I'd like very much to take a very sweet revenge but she'll know how it'll feel to fall out with me. I refuse to regard her as anything more then a parasite.
I'm angry. Nobody has right to treat me like scum. Somehow I doubt going out tonight is a good idea. Or if I do, it needs to be extremely early, I need to sleep for a good twelve hours undisturbed and then I might feel a little better.
Being in bits, isn't something I enjoy. As a matter of fact I hate crying in front of anyone and I had to have a mate come rescue me, otherwise I'd have been worse then I was. It takes so much to make me snap. I'm mentally drained, I'm at the end of my fight and oddly enough pick at me and I'll just fall to pieces.
But this woman won't consider me an ally anymore. There's right and wrong, there's black and white and what little respect I still had for her vanished. Appalling is the word I'd use. Completely appalling. Maybe my reaction is a combination of a lot of things, not writing, not sleeping, not eating properly, being emotional, thinking far to much and various other factors.
I've figured out one of my problems. Its harder to accept someones there then to accept someones not. Being completely convinced the entire world is against me is the easier option then knowing people care.
Another one is shutting everything out. I've done this for too long. I was fine and now I'm down again. So my problem is I have a sick mind. I'm completely fine, euphoric even, untouchable and then from that someone flicks a switch and I am gone. I am in pieces and don't know what to do with myself.
Very bipolar currently. And yes I do cycle. At least once every two weeks I have a miniature relapse and breakdown, apparently I was overdue, as its been three weeks since the last meltdown.
Maybe I really do need to go to my doctors about this.

Lent

I've been thinking a lot about lent lately. What to give up. Thats the question. There's an infinate list of things I could give up. Everything from straighteners to tea. But there are so many reasons not to do these things.

• Tea: Tea is my basic fuel for living, without tea I would a) be a complete dragon b) wouldn't function correctly and c) probably die.
  
• Straighteners: Sure I COULD live without them I guess and it'd probably do my hair a world of good. But really. I can't look a mess for six weeks. I'm far to vain.
• Alchohol: I've already given up. So technically it'd be cheating.
• Crappy junk food: Lets face it, I'd never eat. :/
• Sex: Well I'm not getting any of that anyway so that'd also be cheating.
• Fags: Really for the better part I've cut that out too so again, cheating.
• Pool: I'd actually commit suicide.
• Pub: Just because I sit in the pub and don't drink doesn't mean I could live without the socialness.
• Hair Product: Really. Just no.
• Women: Like I could if I tried.
• My favourate jeans: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

So as you can see. I'm incapible of cutting anything out of my life. I could try giving up wanking, but lets face it I'd end up raping someone.

It begins with fairies

The evening is a romantic one. I have a mission. Which is currently sprouting life. Slowly. Germination is never a quick process. I recently covered my wall, with A3 paper, 6x3. And so I've got my thinking cap on, a bandana actually, and I've begun my mindmap... brainstorm whatever.
I will not rest until my wall is covered in scribbles.

Buggeration

Currently I'm completely addicted to a song, by Massive Attack, covered by Elbow - Teardrop. I'm not even sure why. Its just the beat of my walking, its my secret resolve on how the world works.
I decided a few minutes ago while making my breakfast, that given the choice to relive the last four months, I'd have done it in exactly the same order, but been a lot more vocal in which why I felt. I decided last night its something I need to work on. I'm so good at convincing the world I'm fine or I'm just being distant and kept to myself that actually, there's a lot I miss out on. But on the other hand, I'm too disbelieving of the worlds intentions. The fundamental law I run on is 'not of this world', 'somewhere else', 'some other time when the grass was really green and not grey'. Maybe because of this Bohemian Spirit, my ability to connect with reality is suffering. I know it has of late, I have been so far away all of the time, not much can bring me down back to earth.
I've also decided that porridge is one of those things man has forsaken. Its simple oats, milk sugar/honey/jam. I'm very aware I don't eat enough in the morning, this is a rarity, but I need more then just nutella on toast this morning. More then just rocket fuel. Central heating for kids, as they say.
From one blogger to a reader, here's a little secret that I never quite knew about until last night: I am appallingly bad with emotion. Shock horror! Now it sheds some light on the earth! This would be the reason for heaven and earth! The lack of capacity to deal with myself and the horrible niggling at me depression that comes and goes in a manic fashion.
Buggeration. I knew I was going wrong somewhere.
Or maybe the answer just isn't in my grasp to know. Because I am a little unsure of just where I mess up, sometimes I guess I give to much to one person and others its not enough...? Maybe I'll never know.

Hell is other people

Letting go is the most dangerous of all adventures. Because it involves dropping your heart and seeing if someone else catches it before it smashes on the floor.
Its one of the most soul destroying things you can imagine doing. Because love is a double edged sword, it gives you heaven and it cuts you to pieces at the same time. Love is pretty much knowing your going to get hurt one way or another.
I think its just having the strength to accept any pain that happens and accepting someone inside, knowing there gonna be like a bull in a china shop.
There's no real answer, just a series of observations. Don't look for it. Keep your eyes on the clouds and you'll trip over it if its meant to be. - Jimmy Hyde.

Sometimes I should really listen to my own advice, my own philosophies. I really lack the capacity to take my drink. I'll throw my hands up and admit I drank last night and found myself back in that miserable erratic place.
I think I really am going to stay away from it now. I might've put all of the pain far away from me to get away from it but it doesn't stop it hurting. I spend so many hours in a day with things going over and over in my head. Sometimes I can hear my own voice echoing in my head and I can see it happening in slow motion. And I wish so hard it will go away. I know what I want and I wish I could stop wanting it. There's sense and reason: You deserve better blah balh blah. I've done nothing to no one. What did I do that was so wrong?
Hell is other people.
I know what I want. Because I held it in my hands all that week. Funny thing is, I said this to a mate at college, and her response was 'aww that's really sweet.' Wasn't enough for her though was it?

the statement of the century

I need to stop having these little manic episodes. :|

Happiness

The magic of not caring: Is that you really don't care. About anything you do or say or the concequences.

My song at the moment: Happiness - The Fray

Happiness is just outside my window
Would it crash blowing 80-miles an hour?
Or is happiness a little more like knocking
On your door, and you just let it in?

Happiness feels a lot like sorrow
Let it be, you can’t make it come or go
But you are gone- not for good but for now
Gone for now feels a lot like gone for good

Happiness is a firecracker sitting on my headboard
Happiness was never mine to hold
Careful child, light the fuse and get away
‘Cause happiness throws a shower of sparks

Happiness damn near destroys you
Breaks your faith to pieces on the floor
So you tell yourself, that’s enough for now
Happiness has a violent roar

Happiness is like the old man told me
Look for it, but you’ll never find it all
Let it go, live your life and leave it
Then one day, wake up and she’ll be home
Home, home, home

Right now even I can't understand this cryptic feeling. I'm stuck in an in between place.

Bus stops are strange places

I didn't mention the happenings before the pub last night. While I was waiting for the bus there were four girls at the bus stop with a camera. I'm guessing they'd had something to drink because one stood up from the chairs and fell into the side of the bus shelted face first. They were all giggiling and talking loudly, though I had my headphones in, so I couldn't tell you what the conversation was.
And naturally, as girls do when there bored at a bus stop with a camera they were taking pictures. From pouts to kissing each other. I was highly amused and was thinking to myself, 'well, they either think I'm a boy and there doing it for attention or there ripping it. But either way, play away girls.'
Highly amusing times.

Todays rambles include Parkour and Pulling

Friday nights are turning into whore nights it seems. For the second friday in a row I pulled. Once because I was pinned to a wall and couldn't actually get out of that if I tried considering this girl is built like a brick shit house and is an inch or two taller then me. And two other girls, one of them the girl I pulled last week. The girl who had a boyfriend was most defiantly the best kisser out of the three. I don't really know what I'm doing, it just seems really easy? Too easy. And I think maybe I upset someone last night.
So maybe I really need to put my tongue away. But I guess its nice to be wanted. Even if it is by a bunch of drunks.
I'm sore today, all in my arms and chest and back. Yesterday I picked up my weights and had a really good session lifting. I need to stretch out in a bit and do some more. Since the sun has reappeared, I've decided summer is coming and as summer is coming I need to look decent in shorts and vests as I will start living in them.
And I've devised a new exercise plan. Top half one day, stomach and legs the next. Doing whatever until I can't do anymore. This might work. Rest days are obvious I just don't know when they'll appear yet. Just need to be careful not to damage anything.
My body isn't used to this foreign thing called exercise, amazing really, I've turned into such a lazy bum. I did Karate for a good seven? six? years and when I left, because I ate like a horse anyway, I put on a hell of a lot of weight. So its taken me a good while to trim back down, but lately, I'm talking in the last year, I've got my flat stomach just no muscle tone. So I'm on a mission to bulk back up and get some strength back. I'm thinking about finding a sport or a new something or joining a gym... or something. I don't know. We'll see.
Only problem about sport is piercings, so gym is more likely. Or maybe I'll just start Parkour, as I've wanted to for years.
Parkour: for anyone who doesn't know what the hell I'm talking about is urban free running. Running through a city finding new routes, including climbing up buildings jumping rooftops etc. Think spiderman meets daredevil meets city.
Extreme Tag a video for the still mystified.

Everyone knows I'm in over my head

And all at once the crowd begins to sing

Sometimes
We'd never know what's wrong without the pain
Sometimes the hardest thing and the right thing are the same

Maybe you want her, maybe you need her
Maybe you've started to compare to someone not there
Maybe you want it, maybe you need it
Maybe it's all you're running from
Perfection will not come
Maybe you want her, maybe you need her Maybe you had her, maybe you lost her to another To another
- The Fray 'All at Once'

Maybe you never had her.

Skin divers. Not the best picture in the world. The dots on my stomach are what your looking at, either side of my belly button.

Just incase you were waiting for a face to match the words. I look more like a twelve year old boy every day.

Lord knows it would be the first time.

I am tired today, more then I usually am. Because last night a friend decided to invite herself round for the night and insisted on sharing my bed. Needless to say it wasn't the best nights sleep.
I am enjoying this hermit business. Its nice having so much time to myself, to drift around doing what I please. So far any plans I've made to leave my house have been spontaneous, usually made a few hours before hand, any plans that have been made longer then a few hours seem to fall through. But I've given up caring. Sure it fucks me off a little, but I got used to a best friend who became unreliable the minute she had a girlfriend, so why should any body else be any different. People let you down. Constantly. Its in their nature. And women seem to have this notion that you can read there minds and know exactly whats going on when they tell you diddily bumfluff and make you fight to have a conversation with them.
And no words like 'sorry' and 'love you' don't fix it. They don't make everything alright. Actions speak louder then words.
I know I talk most of the time like I'm not a woman. I rant endlessly about women, but seriously boys, we don't understand them anymore then you do. Over the last few weeks, I've realised no gender is better off, no description of sexual binary is any different. No one knows what they want. And if they do there lying. At the core we're all the same, some people wish themselves into a comfortable lives, some people settle for less to feel wanted, some people just can't be alone, others there just stuck in the past and can't get out of it, and there are a few who just want everyone regardless of who they hurt. And those rare few, the few that stick to there other halves, well really, all I can say is some have it lucky. Not mentioning all those people that are hurting so bad there going through hurricane season and destroying everyone in there path.
And all those single people out there who've given up on finding anyone, because the of the simple truth: I hate being alone, but the other option hurts too much. Your not really alone, because if everyone's alone together then we've all got each other. Maybe that's not comforting, because I certainly don't find it comforting. When your alone your alone no matter what. You come into the world with nothing and you leave with nothing but big angry gashes in the fabric of who you are and bruises all over your heart.
But this life business is for learning. Its for discovering a little bit of who you are, who people are and what this life really is. So surely that adventure is worth hurting for. If we're alone now, it won't be forever. Because it never is forever. Maybe this is all just wishful thinking. But lately, I've done a lot of thinking more then I usually do.
I'm starting to wonder just exactly how I got here. Because the entire of the last six months has merged into one, the last twelve months is beyond me. This time last year I was blissfully happy. Or at least, I was kidding myself into that. How did I get here...? I can still remember picking up my results from school like it was yesterday. And feeling so empty because I knew that was the day it would all change and my entire life was about to become chaotic.
Somehow I knew I'd fluff college. Somehow I doubt I'll ever use what I'm doing. I was meant to be amazing. I was meant to be the prodigal child. Where did that go really? Since when did I turn into such a bum with no future prospects? People forget, that it was my dream to go to university too, even though I never really got anywhere near it.
I do wish I knew where I'm going to end up, but as per usual, I'm just going to have to follow my feet and find out. It is just waiting for me to find it after all.

Skin divers day... 4? I think: The right one is a little red and a little tender, because I caught it in the night. The left, redness has completely gone, not as tender, still a little bruised but other then that fine. Two of the easiest piercings to have, no mess, no weeping. I forget they are there half the time. Looking forward to my next two to finish it off.
Am thinking, some day I'll get 'If you want peace prepare for war' written in Latin across my stomach between them. Maybe. When I'm certain I'm never giving birth to children and am rich and famous and can afford to be covered.
Someday.

Fundamentals

Today there's not much to say. Well there is, there's masses to say. My only comfort today has been porridge and a cup of tea. Oh and there's this one song which has been haunting my day. 'Please please please let me get what I want' - Clayhill.
The day is dragging today, I've got a new favourite film, 'This is England'. I'm not sure why. And for the life of me I couldn't decide what to wear today. Currently its my Punisher tshirt, ripped jeans and converse. And I'm doing my hair as we speak. Or as I write.
My ability to sleep is astounding me at the moment. Its a constant thing. This morning I woke up at eleven, and fell back to sleep until two, whilst having a very pleasant dream. Maybe I did go to bed at two this morning, but lately I'm extremely tired. Its a nice feeling after god knows how long not sleeping properly.
Today I'm actually straightening my hair properly. And something occurs to me while I do this, as it usually does. I haven't bluntly said any basics of myself.
Well, alright, here goes, I'm 19 and I'm a dyke. Writing is my sanity and I have a habit of choosing the wrong women. I make decisions about myself, like last night after sitting in the pub with a close friend I decided I have manic depression.
I'm one of these people that are so terribly fragile, but at the same time when I want/need to be I'm stronger then any tide. I can be an emotional wreak, lovesick and lost on a boat somewhere in an ocean, but if I decide I want to see the shore I'll jump in that ocean and I'll swim until I find it. Sure I can be weak, but a lot of me is juxtaposed. Its all very, snap snap snap decisions. All very fight for survival. All very altering myself to keep myself sane. Which is why I think I could never be on any medication for myself. Because there is a point, there's always a point, where I think no, that's it you need to fight. I'm very good at putting myself in positions when I'm backed into a corner.
Someone said to me the other day: Any tips on dealing with pain, cos I'm getting a tattoo soon and am brickin' it. Well, she didn't exactly say that, but if she would've if she had decent grammar. My answer was: Just accept the pain, don't fight it, relax. This is why I think there's always a point, because I'll take it and take it and take it until I've really had enough and start fighting back. I'll lie on the floor hung, drawn and quartered until everything in myself, my instinct, my gut, my reason it all screams: ENOUGH!
My therapist told me I was so unique in the way I deal with things. But she didn't know the full story. I could talk for hours and hours about a lot of things about loss and abandonment, about betrayal and the need to escape. But fundamentally I think it all comes down to this, there is a point where I get a low as I can, so low I'm hanging over the edge clinging on by my finger tips and for some reason I'll always drag myself back up. That reason is always along the lines of: I don't deserve to feel this way, I've done nothing to nobody.
Maybe that's the problem with being an only child, you learn everything you do has to be on your own back, you fall down scrape your knee and there is no one to pick you back up but yourself. So you get back up and toddle on.
There's not much to say today. Just metaphors and theories. I'll say nothing else about myself fundamentally, that's all you need to know for now. I am a person, I come from somewhere, I do things, I'm 19, I have infinite strength but am a train wreak and I write. Oh and if you were paying attention, I'm an only child and was in therapy.
What's the plan for today? Don't know I still haven't found it.

Good times for a change
See, the luck Ive had
Can make a good man
Turn bad

So please please please
Let me, let me, let me
Let me get what I want
This time

Havent had a dream in a long time
See, the life Ive had
Can make a good man bad

So for once in my life
Let me get what I want
Lord knows, it would be the first time
Lord knows, it would be the first time
- Clayhill 'Please please please let me get what I want'
(Just to show you what I mean about haunting)

PS. Skin divers are fine, still a little bruised.

Duvet day

Day two of my new babies/skin divers: There still sore. Obviously. The pain is a bizarre one, internal, similar to the beautiful craps I get without fail once a month, but because of my recent coughing fits my stomach muscles are sore anyway, so there's a bizarre combination going on here. I may post a picture soon.
Today is a duvet day. I'm lying in my pyjamas on the sofa, under my duvet, very comfy, lord of the rings on. And once again I've decided the life of a hobbit wouldn't be too bad. 7 meals a day, a love for smoking, growing things and peace and quite. Not a bad life, the hairy feet wouldn't bother me either, or the big ears. And I'd like to think I'd look cute with curly hair.
Or I'd be one of the women of Rohan because I quite like Rohan. Elves are all well and good, but I couldn't live forever, I couldn't watch the same mistakes and suffering.
Or if we're talking about the book and not the film, Old Tom Bombadil and live in the forest with Goldberry. Because that sounds like a pretty decent life to me.

Soft sleepy sounds

There's a lot I could rant about tonight. I could rant about gender binary, sexuality, racism, any number of things. But I'm incredibly lazy currently and have no interest in ranting about anything, shock horror, I know, be astounded.
I feel an incredible release, I think starting this blog is exactly what I've needed, somewhere to put everything in some form of order. Its nice to have an inch of space to organize things. So much calmer then I was, less chaos and sure I'm still erratic but that's just how I work. My dad said something tonight which took me a little by surprise, more so because it came from my dad then anyone else: You can't catch depression, its part of your genetic make up. I agree, its a part of who you are, but its just a part of who you are you haven't learnt how to deal with. I'm no expert, lets face it my downs out weigh my ups and I could rave all day about this and that and the other but currently I'm so calm and - for lack of a better word - divine, everything is actually alright. This moment in time, I'm sitting in my pyjamas, ignoring people on msn, comfy as hell and nothing short of a hurricane could ruin my mood.
I blame this blog entirely for my mood, I've unloaded a lot into words and its been a long long time since I've felt this calm, this safe in my own skin. I know where I am. I am here and its just fine. Its strange, I forget sometimes just how delicate my little world is and just how much one simple thing can alter it. And I guess here there's no one to interrupt. There's just endless mute voices to listen. I've needed that more then anything.
There's a difference between sitting down with someone and them listening to what you say and sitting down with someone and knowing they really feel what you say. The last six months I've felt so lost, in relation to nothing but myself and I've tried to keep together and find out whats wrong and pick myself up when I'm on the floor and get up every day, knowing that if I didn't make myself I'd never get up. I've wished so hard to find some peace within myself, just within myself not from the euphoria of being a million miles away from anything or from lying in someone else's arms. I've waited for everything to shift and for me to find where I was.
There's a giant weight lifted from my shoulders and I think I've waited long enough to fly again. Tomorrow I'm finding my way back to where I really belong. I am nothing without words. I am nothing with ink stained on my fingers. I am nothing without freedom. I am nothing when I'm not true to myself.
I'm well and truly free and all I feel tonight is infinite peace.

'The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink and clamoring to become visible.' - Vladimir Nabokov

Skin Divers and Piercings

Current Piercings:

• First lobes: stretched to 8mm.
  
• Conch
• Tragus
  
• Helix x2
• Tongue
  
• Belly Button x2
• Nipples x2
• And for the most recent additions: Hips x2
  

In case you dont know the names etc piercings heres a nice little diagram >>
Obviously all of these aren't on one ear. Left: Helix x2, tragus, lobe. Right: Conch and lobe. I've had many piercings, these are just the ones I've kept. Ive had my seconds and thirds done, helix done three times my right ear. Snug on right ear. Forward helix on left ear. My right ear has been appalling, its never really taken to cartilage piercings. And of course I had my nose and lip done. So I've had a fair few different piercings and had a fair few redone. But nothing in the world could've prepared me for skin divers. The most bizarre thing I've ever had done.
For a start its not a needle, its a tool that is pushed into your skin removing a little circular portion of skin and then the stud is pushed through afterwards, its more uncomfortable then anything else. Because my piercer had to pinch my skin around the incision made.
Skin divers look like this. Close up. Cept mine aren't in my face. Obviously.
So when am I getting my other two done? When I have 50 quid to get the other two done. But I'm chuffed, I'm in love with them. Happy valentines to me. So after I've had this project finished what am I getting next? I'm thinking horizontal eyebrow. Maybe... who knows.

Sorry love, I don't babysit.

Does this darkness have a name? What is this hatred that has stolen into my life? All I seem to be doing lately is getting angry and I never get angry. I'd say it takes a very special person to piss me off two days in a row. Someone I can baffle with GCSE English alone. Sorry love, I don't babysit.
Apparently I am a player. According to the girl with a boyfriend who I pulled the other night. I take this personally. I haven't played anyone for over a year. I haven't hurt anyone purposely for over a year. I haven't done anything wrong, I'm just alive and breathing and walking through this life like I should be doing. I don't want to hurt anyone. What am I supposed to do? I don't have to validate myself to anyone and I know that, because some people there's no talking to. Of course it was me that was the player. Me being completely single, I can do what I want when I want, she's got a boyfriend, break or not. So what does that make her.
I'm really eaten up by this. Its a nerve. I'm not a player. I'm not a fucking player. I don't fuck people about. I don't leave all of one persons hope hanging on one thread just to cut them down mid speech. I used to be that person. Not anymore. I used to be a bitch, I used to hurt people on purpose because I was hurting and sure, maybe Friday was one of the biggest mistakes of my life and sure old habits appeared. But all night I had my friend drunk hanging off my neck asking me if I was alright, because she could see it in my face that I wasn't.
I'm not a player. I admit it was wrong to go there. It was wrong to let Friday happen at all. Alright, chalked up another mistake on the board, I'm only human, this happens on a regular basis. Fate's decided for me that I'm destined to be alone for a while. Maybe I am just better off alone. Can you blame me for needing a little human contact? And she was most definitely a mistake, immature to the last. I think she was expecting me to fall madly in love with her the minute she said she was on a break with her boyfriend and when I didn't live up to her expectations threw all of her toys out of the pram.
I even told her of my situation. And she reminded me so much of an ex, she just didn't listen.
Anyway. I'm so angry lately. But its kind of a good thing, because it means I've got more fight. And am refusing to be pushed around by the likes of that child. She might 'like' me after three days but she doesn't know me and I need a woman not a child. Oh and there's a small matter of: *bursts into song* If I cant have you.
Yeah, I know, roll your eyes at me and tell me to get over it. Coming back to my first post, I'm stunned at how true it really is: You will not like me. And if think you do it will be because you can get something from me, or because you believe you can. Funny, funny days, I astound even myself sometimes.
So whats the plan now? Today... I think I'm going to have a wander on my own and then I'll just find where my feet take me. Because I don't have to do anything and I feel okay. I feel more myself today.

Guilty Pleasures

Alongside piercings, one of my many many loves/adoration's/infatuations/past times/interests, is food. The key to my heart is through my stomach. Line my tum with something sweet, delicious, hearty, filling or comforting and I am yours. Completely.
Good food is priceless. I've always thought, good food could heal any emotional wound. Fortunately I am a rake, being roughly 10 and a half stone, and roughly 5 ft 8. My love for food could defeat the evil in this world. Mostly because its not gluttony, its just pure enjoyment.
I never over eat, because that would defeat the purpose of food. But I eat well and look after myself. There are several things I don't do:

• Mushrooms/Fish
• Squishy Bacon
• Runny eggs
• Cheese on meat.
• Pasta - but I will eat it if I have to.

Bacon must be crispy. Eggs must be scrambled or easy over when cooked and cheese must NEVER EVER be put on meat, in any shape or form, pasta, chilli, tacos, never ever. It is like. blasphemy. Deserts are paramount. Fruit and lots of cream, the fluffy kind, doubled over itself thats sweet and guaranteed to clog your arteries. But tastes so good. Oh yes, that would be heaven.
Its true, food is one of my many weaknesses, alongside women, creativity, tea, technology, piercings and random phone calls just-because-you-were-thinking-of-me.

Small Change... and Skin Divers

Today is most definitely a lazy Sunday, as I'm posting again out of boredom. I decided to go through my penny jar. My penny jar is far from a jam jar or a bottle of some description or even a tub. Its in fact a neat little piece of technology (yes I did just say neat) that counts my change as I push it through the slot. I decided to go through the entire of my change just in case it had lied to me, because pushing a coin through the slot too quickly results in it being read wrong. For example as I was letting it eat my change, it decided two 10p coins were actually pounds. Fortunately I had enough left out to match the number on the screen, saving me starting again.
And now comes the real reason for my post: I much prefer the new designs to the old ones. For a start I think its rather clever. Shiny and seven coins build up an over all image.
Me being me, they had me at shiny. They are far too pretty to spend. I've seen ever coin above so far, except the new pound coin. I'm very impressed by this new shrapnel. Very impressed and I have thought this for a while.
So why I hear you ask, have you been checking up on your penny jar? Well, I'll tell you, in change I've got: £13.09. And £40 in my piggy bank that's actually a sheepy bank. Which makes a good £50 quid. £53.09 if your pedantic. Which means tomorrow I can get two new shinny's as a Valentines present to myself.
I know, its a little sad. But who else do I have to spoil and I do this every year. The one year it was getting my lip pierced, another it was my tongue and this year its getting the first two of my four dermal skin divers done. See the trend?
Dermal skin divers, in case you don't know which you probably don't because from what my piercer has said there still relatively new. Are small studs, singular studs. Similar to dermal anchors, but a lot smaller, which I'm imagining minimizes the chance of you ripping them out. They can be put anywhere. If there's skin there you can put a dermal anchor or skin diver there. And funnily enough, this is what I'm having put in my hips. Well, the bottom of my stomach, under my belly button.

Skin Divers 'star'
Skin Divers 'belly'
Dermal Anchors (and scarification) (okay, sure, this isn't the best picture in the world, but you see those bolts hanging out of his chest, those are dermal anchors. Freaky huh?)

Now I'm no expert, but really, that's actually amazing. I thought dermal anchors were amazing when I heard about them and was adamant I was going to get those put in my hips instead of surface piercings. But really. Skin divers are closer to your skin and sure you might not be able to change the ball, but I don't really want to anyway. I've always preferred my body jewellery to look like body jewellery. And there not going to be huge, which is what I like. More delicate, less butch. (before you scream, at this point I'd never consider getting scarification really not my cup of tea).
So hopefully, tomorrow is the lucky day.

Going North?

Today I feel oddly calm. I'm still ill, worse then I was, but I don't really care. The chaos in my head has vanished, maybe its from the few days of writing here. Or maybe I've just finally let go of it. I'm not sure. But whatever, I'm alright. I feel tired and dream like.
I feel like I am in this giant endless space. My phones on the floor somewhere and I'm not interested in any contact from the outside world today.
I've got my little bubble. Today I learnt how to make porridge, so my stomachs full and warm. I'm sitting in one of my comfortable jumpers, all warm. I've got my favourite boxers on, the green ones with blue flowers on them, from topman. I've got Braveheart on and currently I couldn't give two shits about the rest of the world. I'm an Island.
And on this Island, its okay. Its okay to exist. So I think I'm staying here for a while, away from the rest of the world. I'm hiding for now. At least today.
I want so much to be far away, sitting on a hilltop somewhere, notebook on lap, sun on face. I miss the river crashing over broken stone, I miss the twisted branches and green. I miss drifting, I miss the friendly horses. I want to walk the highlands again. I want a holiday. A very long holiday. Maybe running North across the boarder and into Scotland isn't a solution, but where else can I find peace? Maybe two places, one's a secret, fleeting moments that I can never hold onto, the other's North.
Your heart is free. Have the courage to follow it.

Nearly 3am and I'm awake

I'm trying to find real insight into myself tonight. Its failing badly, because all I can think about revolved around the same subjects and I'm a little tired of thinking. Tonight I have the ground under my feet again, instead of being ten feet up in the air. I'm feeling a little safer, a little more secure. I went out and didn't drink. Its okay right now, I'm in control of what I'm doing. I've got a good hand in this poker game.
I found this tonight: The breaking of a wave cannot explain the whole sea. One action does not explain the whole affair. One reaction doesn't explain the whole truth. I'm a little tired of hearing about me, hearing all the nonsense about right and wrong and up and down and all those little details I'd rather forget. I want to go to sleep for a few months wake up when its over.
I'd like someone to do this great amazing thing, that nobody ever does, and ask me what it is exactly that I want and to tick every box. I'm so full of longing and heartache recently. Its sickening. But that's the problem with being me, I always seem to be the long shot that always happens last or not at all.

If you want peace. Prepare for war.

'Congratulations,' I tell myself 'Your officially a dick-ed again.' I'm kind of ill. I've got this horrible chesty crap in my throat. From being run down, not sleeping and I'm assuming that I've also made myself ill from thinking too much. I got in a two this morning, slept for twelve hours and found my duvet twisted when I woke up. And yesterday, I got stood up for the third time by the same girl. Strike three, your out. I've cut her enough slack I think.
So its valentines day, I've had several people text me saying 'happy valentines day' balh balh balh. Fuck off. Really. Its not happy valentines day. Maybe your enjoying yourself but I'm not. Its just another malicious jibe at everyone single by everyone in a relationship or with someone to fuck. Just some more salt to rub in the wound, which isn't healing well by the way, its infected and bleeding most of the time. It hurts.
I've made myself some more drama. Pulling twice last night. Fuck. Really. Why do I do this to myself? I know I'm no good to anyone right now. I know nobody can pick me back up and put me back together and I know this is just going to hurt more then its worth. I hate hurting people and I've played this game and lost. So why the hell am I getting back into it? - Answer: Because a little human contact is all I want, I want to feel wanted, I want to be everything one person needs, another body part they can't live without, just don't want to be alone. Honestly the side of me trapped in old habits just wants to rip through several women, use them up and ruin them for all eternity.

[*EDIT*]
^^^ Unfortunately that part isn't for anyone to see.

So, there's a few little things to change. And I think, stopping drinking completely, is a good idea. I've admitted I'm really not alright to a lot of people. I've admitted that last Tuesday if I'd been on my own I'd have done something stupid. So. What are we going to do to fix this? From tonight onwards, no more drink. From tonight onwards, if you come too close I am bombing you out the water because I'm tired of pain and apparently a good offense is the best defense. From tonight onwards I'm writing more and worrying less and stopping this whole being there for other people thing. Why the hell do I have to be there when no ones there for me. Tonight I'm doing whats right for me. Tonight I'm being good to myself because no one else is. Tonight I'm rescuing myself, because I've waited far too long, I've begged for too long, I've wished too hard, and still there is no one. Still I'm shooting blanks. Still I'm in pieces. No I'm not as strong as I was last year. Because I'm worn down. Slowly chipped away into a pile of gravel.
Tonight we're starting reconstruction. Because its a job I've put off for too long. I'm daring myself to be alright. I'm daring myself to really get back up and not just charge bullheaded at something because I'm angry.
I will get my thunder back. I will be alright. And anything that has ever happened in my life is water under the bridge. And I'm waving it goodbye. Because I deserve better. I'm raising the bar tonight.
I refuse to feel this way any longer.

...

Happy fucking valentines day. Hemorrhaging again.

Love is a verb.

Valentines day is looming and already I can feel it. I've done it. Nearly. Got this far. I said to myself six months ago that I wasn't going to get into a serious relationship before the 14/02/09. So I'm nearly there and I'm not tripping at the finish line. I've achieved something. I haven't played the field and gone through another hurricane season, maybe I haven't stayed away from women completely. And maybe I've given myself more drama then physically necessary. But I'm still standing, in this twisted fairytale called life.
I tell you what the trouble with love is. Love makes you sick. Love has the ability to make you see no one else in the room. Love can drag you out of your horrible little despair and make you fly. Love can blast a cannonball through your chest, leaving a gaping putrid wound for all to see. So the internal affair is very different from the reality of the situation. Love is being very vulnerable and expecting attack. The trouble with love is its never guaranteed. Its never completely safe, its never always returned.
When it comes to love, I always imagine myself pealing off layers of thick packing foam that surround me and peering out at the world at said person. Taking a look around to see who's watching, then I'm sticking my fingers into the middle of my chest and peeling away either side of my ribcage and I hand a bloody muscle to the other party.
Predictably almost - its expected of me. And the gift of this bloody muscle on a plate isn't appreciated and usually isn't enough, it's kicked around and thrown off the top of buildings and in the front of speeding trains. And usually I end with picking my heart up out of bloody puddle and taking her home and hiding her in a shoebox full of cotton wool for intensive care. Usually we have quiet conversations and together we decide again we need to be more careful.
So I've stayed away from the official business, but in many ways of failed. Because currently, my ticker is bleeding in a shoebox under my bed and skips every forth and sixth beat.
A drunken, muddy heart, bruised and cut in half - most of the time. As you might've guessed I have little luck in love or out of it. Hopeless, for lack of a better word and the good things that find me are few and far between and are stolen seasons. Tiny dreams to keep the beat alive.
All I really know is one thing: "It wasn't aeroplanes... it was beauty that killed the beast."
Yes, today is the first of this personal affair. My question today is: Will it ever be enough to give it all to one person and get the same in return? For anyone, anywhere, any day, not just me. I ask this because human beings are selfish creatures, we want and want and want. When will it all be satisfactory?

Prologue

I could write all manor of drivel here. I could leave trails of myself everywhere in little breadcrumbs, deliver pieces of my life in cryptic, nondescript, incoherent forms, because they say that is what blogs are for. But I don't think I will, today at least. I think I'll leave you on the very edges of your seats and leave you completely mystified with wonder. Because I've decided there is most definitely no rush.
What I will say/write today about the particulars of myself, is this: You will not like me. And if think you do it will be because you can get something from me, or because you believe you can. You will tolerate me at best. And if you do like me truly, it is because you let me be who I am and don't expect anything from me - you people are truly rare and everyday of sanity you give me is a blessing in disguise.
Other then this I will leave you completely dumbfounded and clueless because I am tired of baring my soul. I am tired of scribbling down the details of myself like some, bizarre resume, the curriculum vitae of my life. I would rather we stay somewhat decent strangers at this point.
If you know my face, we've passed in the street, drank in each others company and shared very few words or none at all, then you know exactly everything you need to know about me because you need to know exactly nothing about me. The concrete details aren't necessary, I come from somewhere, I live this way, I am this person. I do things. I fuck up. I fall down. I get up. I eat. Sleep. Breathe. Bleed. I fly occasionally too, not so much lately.
Like leaves... eventually we all fall down... a little morbid, but its true and come spring they grow back.