Corrections

Alright...I admit...That video is not as funny as I made it out to be. But after spending the whole weekend stuck at home by myself, can you blame me thinking that it was hilarious?

Right now I am at school. More accurately, in my ICT class. I thought since I'm not getting any work done anywaym, I as well make a new blog entry and therefore have more time at home to complete school work which I didn't complete at school. If that makes any since.

Ah. Life's hard. But I guess everyone knows that already. For some weird reason I feel like shit today. I am not even going to bother with the 'I'm feeling depressed' and 'I am sad or unhappy' crap. Fuck it all! I'm sick of talking about how I feel. It's not like anyone cares. And it's like I feel so great after typing all that bullocks!

My eyes are too tired, I can hardly hold my eye lids up. They so heavy, I had to check in a mirror to see I'm nothing is attached to them. And it is not just my eye lids that have some kind of invisible weights glued to them. As I go of the train this morning, I could hardly drag my feet behind me. I was praying for the ground to start moving and take me to my destination. Obviously that didn't happen. So instead I had to somehow make my way to the tube station and descended my heavy body in between a stylish old man with red eyes and a suit case and a fat young man with a cheap hair cut and an even cheaper brief case.

Moving slightly on...life doesn't end because a person doesn't get enough sleep. Or if they waste the whole weekend doing fucking nothing instead of preparing for the dreaded exams. Or if that person feels like they don't fit into the place they have been given. Life doesn't stop so you could catch up with it and hop onto the ride. The difference between life and train is that in life there are no stops and determinations and no matter what you do, it does not stop. You can jump right in front of it and wave your hands and scream like you are on top of the highest mountain - life does not stop for you.

Video Of The Week

If I am ever sad, please just show me this video!!!

It's so funny! I have to keep pausing it because I am laughing so hard, I can't even see the video.

After watching it way too many times, I am not sure if this was some sort of joke or was that poor girl serious. Which ever way, it's so embarrassing to watch that I am reconsidering going to university. (Just kidding...no stupid Russian girl would ever keep me way from the hell that will be uni.)

New Feature

I thought of a very stupid thing today. Weelll...I didn't think of it, I just decided to copy it from another blog. I was browsing through is kick-ass, rocking-above-all-other-blogs blog and I saw this feature that was included every Tuesday of every weeks. This feature says what the author is reading, listening, watching, eating and so on... that week. So I thought: 'Oh, this is a great way for me to capture the current happenings and what's rocking in my life at the time'. Like a diary. Well, I hate diaries so this is the only way I can write down this stuff and be able to read it again a long time from now and remember what I was doing.

So, from this day onwards...every week I will make an entry named: 'What [a name yet to be decided by me but temporary it shall be 'London'] is....' This entry will contain the following:
Listening...
Reading...
Watching...
And some other subtitle that will be created in due course.

For Me, Myself And I

So guess what? It is a well know fact that crazy people talk to themselves. In other words, when you start talking to yourself, you are universally diagnosed by the society as a crazy and insane little fuck that needs to be destroyed. So what about if you write to an audience that is absent? Isn't that the same as talking to an audience that is absent; talking to yourself? I think it is. I also think, fuck the society. Fuck the universal facts and the humanity.

Appreciation? It's a fucking plantation and the foundation of my frustration!

Subconsciouly, today I asked myself: 'Creating or recreating? Which one is harder?'
Creating: Starting something from nothing. Producing the nonexistent. It's pretty fucking hard if you think about it.
Recreating: Normally, if faced with this choice most people would choose this option. This is because automatically we are pushed to think that once something has been created, recreating that same thing should be easier. However, the truth is far from the first instinct.

Once something has been created and then taken away, recreating that thing is something of an impossible mission. Once you have tasted the sweetness; seen the magic and felt the indescribable, you will never be satisfied with the recreation of lost possession. And even if the new and recreated version is the exact match to the original, it will never be the same. The light will never be as bright; the taste will never be as sweet and it will never be as beautiful as the first time round.

It is just another one of those laws that cannot be changed. And while there is no book of laws to teach you in advance, you shouldn't be surprised or sad when life finishes its lesson. After all, we can't learn through other peoples mistakes. And the best teacher you will ever get is life.

Long Time Coming, Long Time Losing

It has been a while since I've been here. Well, it's not like anyone missed it. Although, I've missed it. And that's all that matters. Because at the end of the day; when it goes down to it; when the bells start ringing and the light strats shining, it's me by myself. And no matter how many so called friends you have or how many people will stand beside your grave, bowing their heads: you are alone.

I want to write something that would make me go 'wow' after I read it again months or years later. I haven't written anything alike for a while. In fact, I can't even remember last time I wrote something wow-ish. Maybe it's the lack of inspiration. Or maybe I just moved on from that place.

The truth is that I have moved on. I'm both happy and sad for this movement. I'm happy to get rid of the fucked up feeling of loneliness and inability to breath and live or proceed and do anything useful in my life. I am glad to once again see the sunshine through my window and not close my eyes to block it and prevent the pain from expending. I am glad to smile and mean it. I am happy to feel happy and not be scared for the feeling to go away. And most of all, I am glad to enjoy the rare split seconds of happiness; make the most of it and laugh as loud as possible instead of trying to hold on to the precious possessions and while doing so forget to make the most of it.

Yet, I'm sad because when you get used to something, whether it's a feeling, thing or a person, it is hard to get used to its absents. I miss walking down the street and looking at the shittiest, boring and the most not inspirational thing there, like a broken metal fence and seeing so much beyond it. I miss standing in a platform, waiting for my train to pull in and feeling the wind whisper sweet nothings to me. I miss writing without realised I am doing it; writing for hours and only stopping when my fingers can not go on any longer or the ink runs out. But most of all, I miss the things that I never had.

You Can Change The Scenery, But Not The Fucking Situation

Have you ever confused a dream with life? Or stolen something when you have the money to buy it? Have you ever been blue? Or thought that your train was moving while you were sitting still? Maybe I am just crazy. Maybe it is the present way of living? Or maybe I was just the interrupted girl walking next to you in the street.

Don't be jealous because someone else got better...because they recovered quicker...because they have a chance at a life. Don't be jealous because it is not real; it is an illusion. They didn't recover or get better, they just gave up. Just as everyone else gave up on them. And what they are living is not called life. They can change the scenery, but not the fucking situation - and it is not them who make the house calls. Everybody knows that. What they don't know...is the it's you who dials the number. And how the fuck are they supposed to recover if they don't even understand their disease?

I know what it is like to want to die. I know how much it hurts to smile. How you try to fit in but you can't. How you hurt yourself on the outside to try to kill the thing on the inside. And when you don't want to feel, death can seem like a dream. But seeing death - really seeing it...right in front of you - makes dreaming about it seem fucking ridiculous.

There is too many buttons in the world to be pushed. There's too many buttons and they are just begging to be pressed. And it makes me wonder, it really makes me fucking wonder. Why doesn't anyone ever press my buttons? Is it because I am neglected? Why doesn't anyone reach in and rip out the truth and tell that I'm a fucking bitch? Or that everyone wish I were dead? Is it because I am already dead?

Will anyone actually care if I drop dead? If I am already dead? If my heart is cold, as cold as ice? Is that why I keep coming back to this place? This black fucking hole? Do I really need this place to feel alive? It is fucking crazy!

Someone once told me to never point you finger at crazy people. Yet I point my finger at myself. And just four days ago, I chased a bottle of aspirin, with a bottle of vodka. Just because I had a headache. I didn't try to kill myself. I was trying to make this shit stop.

Maybe the reason I am still alive is because razors are too painful and rivers are just so damp. Acid stains you ad drugs cause cramps. Guns are unlawful and gas smells too fucking awful. So I might as well live.

Borderline Personality Disorder. An instability of self-image, relationships and mood; uncertain about goals, impulsive in activities that are self-damaging. Whatever the fuck it means: it's me.

And so I sit here, asking "was I ever crazy?" Maybe. Or maybe life is crazy. Crazy isn't being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It's you or me amplified. If you ever told a lie and enjoyed it. If you ever wished you could be a child forever. That's not crazy, that's life. Maybe I am not perfect. Maybe they are not perfect, but they are what makes me. They are my friends. Some I will seen, some never again. But there isn't going to be a day that my heart will not find them

Maybe everyone is a liar. And maybe the whole world is stupid, and ignorant. But I'd rather be in it. I rather be living it. I'd rather be fucking in it, than down here in this black hole that I swear never come back to. Never Again.

Work Hard And Become A Leader; Be Lazy And Never Succeed

Be The Sentence To My Life, As The Bridge Is To The River. Breath Life Into My Soulless Soul, As The Words Do To A Page.

I feel like creating one more of those pictures like in the previous entry and posting in. I don't feel that anything good can come from me today. I can't think of words that summarize my feelings or events surrounding me. And I don't mean it in a sad kind of way. It is not because I am experiencing some unearthly rush of emotions. It is not that. It is just because I can't find the right words, which really frustrates me. Because today is one of those days that I really need and want to find those words.

There was something my English teacher said today that make me think something totally unrelated to the subject she was relating it to. She, of course, was talking about exams and blah. While, I thought of life. Life in a form of words. Because that is all that life is. Life is words, isn't it?