Some photography of mine from the past. I really need to get out there more and get some more practice.
Sometimes my cat gets a little too boyfriend-like. He’s very pushy and very needy, and he is constantly following me around. He always has to have his arm on me, cries at me when I’m not paying attention to him, and he plays with my hair. Also just now he tried to ‘clean’ my hair. Double-u tee Eff, man.
Oh, and he’s always farting in my face.
Confessions of an Insomniac.
I’d rather stay up all night than sleep in an empty bed.
So it’s been over a month, I think, that I haven’t had to resort to extreme means for my anxiety. It’s not half as bad, but when you feel good and it starts to creep on you it gives the illusion that it is magnified.
What I need does not exist
It’s like I woke up in a different world, and left the other in another day. This imbalance is fucking with me. I can’t tell what’s real, I can’t tell whats up or down. I wonder how this looks on the the outside.
If I told someone that my mind makes up my reality, more than a normal human, what would they think I was implying?
My mind tells me things that have happened when they haven’t happened at all. I block the bad memories out, and sometimes I don’t even remember what I’m fighting for anymore.
For example, when I was 16, I moved out of my mothers house. I started a new school. I made new friends. I turned one year older. My new friends started to ask me why I decided to change schools for my last year in High School, and I couldn’t remember. I knew I was mad at someone. I knew something happened, something devastating. I remember running barefoot in the snow. Being chased. Walking for a really long time. Holding the phone to my face and crying. I remembered later why I really left, but this was the first time I realized I was fucked.
Sometimes people look at me and I can tell they know I’m faking it. I wish I could tell them it’s because I don’t know who I am anymore, I don’t remember all the things that I like, and I don’t remember everything I don’t like. I don’t have any good stories to tell because I can’t remember most of them. And if I do tell a story, I might make it seem a hundred times more important than it really is, because it’s something I remember.
I know these past few years have rocked my world and turned it even more upside down. I remember some of it, but mostly I just remember what people tell me. It’s hard to try and work on something you don’t understand. I have feelings, strong feelings even, but I don’t know why they are there, and I don’t know how to fix them.
blah blah blah blah blah. I woke up today feeling like a completely different person, and that scares me. It’s never been so drastic before. It’s like whiplash.
I know I should go back to the doctor. But I don’t like someone telling me how I should feel, when I can’t remember.
Lately I get these moments of pure happiness where I am smiling and laughing to myself. And I realize that all these moments have one thing in common. I’m alone, by myself, free. To me it’s euphoric.
All I ask for is for something reliable, with mutual attraction and respect. Reliable, attraction, respect. Someone who realizes I don’t want to belong to anyone.
P.S. someone who is fun.
Going to go pray to the moon.
My mind is blank. It’s as if it’s constantly searching, but the information cannot be found. Constantly racing in circles. NASCAR is in my skull.
Maybe I just think I’m fucked more than I actually am. It’s all relative, right? I make my own hell.
But man do I enjoy laughing at this hell, even if it is my own.
Side note: Damn I love this attraction. It’s a fun game.
I got sent home from work today because I become delirious and physically fucked from lack of sleep. Body, please! Just let me sleep.
Why am I so fucked? Why can’t I control my bullshit.
I would like a day…..or even a weekend…of just laying in bed all day watching movies and cartoons and sex for fucks sake. Please vagina gods, give me some lovin’.
Did you hear that? My insides are screaming your name. I can’t breath, I can’t think. I feel faint. This anxiety feels too much like pain. You are all I see. You are always there beside me. Watching me.
This is what happens when you [get fucking wasted]. You write things you don’t remember.
Things that vaguely make sense.