
Angry @ MindSay 
Depressed -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
....Gah.
I seriously fucking scared myself today.
I was reunited with that blackened, blankened emptiness in my head - the very same one I had when I spat on Ash from the top of the wonky stairs, when I punched her in the face by construction and the several major arguments with Shelly where I came close to strangling her.
I don't even remember what the build up to it was - I can only remember the during and the afterwards.
I remember getting more and more frustrated with her, knowing she was being a fucking stupid cunt as usual - being so damned selfish, self-centred, self-important, spiteful and generally immature - to the point where I ended up leaning over her, pinning her to my bed by her shoulders - actually not using a massive amount of strength, but she wasn't able to fight me off.
I wasn't violent - I didn't hit her - but I spoke with that incredibly sarcastic, patronising, calm-yet-very-violent tone - making no effort to swallow excess saliva - so when I said my harsh consonants, she got my wet rage on her cheeks. And I said a lot of harsh consonants.
I wanted her to be scared, and I knew when Shelly gets that scared, she has accidents. I wanted her to piss herself - I wanted her to be humiliated, ashamed - I wanted her to have no control over herself.
I spoke to her like this for about 10 minutes, then went to sit at my computer for a while. What I did, I don't remember - but she didn't move - she stayed on my bed, laid in the same position.
I went back over to her afterwards and returned to what I was doing previously - but harsher.
At one point, I saw her flush red and she started crying hard - as opposed to the watery eyes she'd had for the rest of the time. I had a feeling I may have accomplished what I set out to do - but I made her admit to it to humiliate her further.
There's another gap in my recollection - but after this, I went to lay in my special space - between my bed and drawers. I took a pillow and laid on the floor, my head by the boiler and my feet by the desk. I cried a little bit, because I felt guilty. Then I cried a lot, because I was depressed and ashamed.
I couldn't apologise for a very long time - nor could I bring myself to look at Shelly. She made me eventually and I gave a sort-of apology. I don't think it was good enough, but she assured me that it was.
She made me tell her some events from "5 to 15" that I don't like talking about. She insists that they have some answers to why I feel the way I do now.
Well I'm willing to bet they do - but not as significant as she makes out. She fucking assumes wrong all the time. How dare she fucking assume and then go ahead to state that I ENJOY feeling depressed all the time. No, I'm not fucking content in my own depression. If that was the fucking case, I wouldn't have agreed to more sessions with Dianne. I wouldn't fight with myself every fucking night to stop myself cutting.
She is the fucking stupidest cunt I know. Who the fuck would say I enjoy being depressed? You can CLEARLY fucking see that I don't! Anybody could fucking tell you that!!
Normally, having a dream like the one I just had wouldn't affect me the way it has done - but with the events of the week that have occured, and with all these events from previous times dwelling on my mind - I've woke up wondering what the fuck the dream was about. It seemed so real - and the fact it was full of people I knew, in a place I was familiar with - it's scared me.
It took place in the computer room we use for Photography lessons - only it had a slightly different layout. Perhaps it was the angle that the dream took place from - I could recognise the room, it just looked slightly different. Shelly wasn't there - but Michelle was, and I wanted to sit with her.
Now normally, there's a ton of empty computers in that room - but for some reason, there was only three empty ones. Two were together and one was out on its own on the end. I wanted to sit with Michelle, but this lass - who bore this horrible resemblence to Conway - only more chavvy, with blonder hair and an orange foundation was talking to her - and she pushed me aside and sat where I was about to - so I had to sit on the end computer by myself.
For some reason, I was more angry about this than I should have been, and I refused to do any work, I just sat and stared at my YouTube channel (which is weird, because YouTube is blocked on the college servers).
Paul set us off doing a task - then he wandered out as usual.
This chavvy lass stood up and walked over to me - she stood behind me and started hitting the back of my head. Then she was poking through my hair, prodding my excema scabs and making comments about them. I don't know WHAT her actual words were, but I could always tell what the subject was, because she'd touch or point at the subject in hand. She must've done it for 5-10 minutes solid, and I didn't actually retaliate until I stood up and said things back to her.
I'm not sure what the last thing she said was - but she made me snap.
I punched her in the face, grabbed her by the neck, digging both my thumbs into the pressure points that stop you breathing - and I pushed her across the room to the printer. When we were there, I smashed her head backwards four or five times onto it, then turned her around and punched her in the face a few more times and in the stomach whilst simultaneously kicking her in the legs.
She was trying to fight back, but all her punches seemed to hit my chin or my arms - and didn't hurt me very much.
After I'd kneed her inbewteen her legs, I pushed her to the ground, held her still with one of my arms and kicked her in the sides and in the side of her head a few times until she was bleeding down one side from her ear and her lip. I walked away from her and went to sit back at my computer.
She didn't move for quite a long time - but when Paul came back, he didn't seem to notice her until she stood up and went to blab to him. She was proper crying, but managed to maintain this sly smirk.
Paul moved a chair to the side of me and started talking to me - but not about what I'd just done, about my coursework.
This went on for a while until I turned around to Paul and said: "Why haven't you even noticed what I've done?
She's proper blagged to you and she's got her crocodile tears, so why aren't you laying into me?"
Paul still seemed proper confused. So I said: "Won't I get kicked out of college?"
Then his mood changed and he proper started ranting about all the other options I have if I got kicked out of college. It was all very confusing.
But at no point during this dream did I ever feel remorse for what I did. I sat there with the same expression the entire time. I didn't ever once show anger. Even when I was kicking the shit out of this lass, my face was totally blank. And this is exactly how I feel when I get angry and hurt things. Hence the reason this dream bothered me so much...
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Depressed -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ARRRRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!
In today's "coursework research and planning" lesson for Media Studies - I'd announced to Sarah I'd just about finished off the script for the Spieluhr music video - so I said I'd be working on the script for my film sequence for Film Studies. She didn't seem to mind - so I got around 1/3 of it written.
Last night I'd had a dream about it, which had given me a fair few ideas - involving a young Abigail scene. I'd originally planned to have a young Abigail bit in our trailer last year - but we hadn't been able to pull it off. This time though, I sent a message to my aunty on Facebook, asking if I could borrow her kids - and mam had asked on my behalf too - so whenever we're ready to film it, I have my little cousin Lauren to help out as young Abigail (it helps that she looks a little bit like me) and Nelly to play the role of a bloody Brandon Henry - if he doesn't mind being dragged backwards down a path, spreading blood everywhere of course. :)
I actually don't hate English now anywhere near as much as I used to.
The start of the course was so tedious - but I'm actually starting to realise all the work I did last year at AS has rendered the A2 so much easier. A lot of it is simply applying your common sense and flinging in some theorist names. And of course, Angela gets us to draw baby heads and gingerbread men - and everything is colour coded. Being a visual style learner (or so they told me), this apparently helps. :D
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Shelly had promised me that when I went into college to get this HPV cervical cancer jab - she'd come in with me and hold my hand.
We had to go there before 2 - and I waited for her IN PLAIN VIEW on the tables by the clock tower entrance. I waited until 1:30 before I gave up - I went in to get the needle by myself.
I was reasonably composed up until I was about a metre away from the door.
I couldn't stop myself crying for long. Shelly wasn't there to comfort me or to hold my hand like she said she would have been. The only comfort I had was from these dozy AS students who asked me like the stupidest question ever: "Are you scared?"
And then the fucking nurse who gave me the needle was a cunt and a half. She saw the cuts and scars on my arms and asked: "Do you have a cat or a dog who scratches your arms?"
I lied, taking the chance and said simply: "Yeah."
She looked at them again and said: "They're not a cat or a dog, are they?"
I shook my head and answered: "Nope."
She gave me this proper weird look and said: "Is there something you want to tell me?"
I glared at her and said straight: "No."
So naturally when I went up to Photography - dozy Shelly was there, she said she'd been looking for me - well clearly she hadn't been looking fucking hard enough.
I was all set to punch her for lying to me - but the needle had scared me into crying - and because it's so difficult to let myself cry for all the other reasons, I sort of used it as an excuse to cry about other things - so she was sort of lumbered with me soaking her hoodie for a while.
And that's the first needle of THREE.
For fuck's sake!
Do you ever feel like you look angry all of the time? Not because you actually are angry, but because of those little wrinkles around your forehead and eyes?? Or do you notice a big sad frown when you really aren't sad?
I have recently had Botox and you would not believe the results, a couple days after my treatment, I noticed I didn't look angry when I was really relaxed. I also noticed that my lips wern't turned down!
Dr. Anne White and her staff at Carolina Laser and Cosmetic Center helped me with my wrinkle worries with the magic Botox drug, she can help you too!!
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I'm in a listing mood right now. And I'm bored shitless with 3 and a half hours of nothing to fill up - with nothing but college resources at my disposal.
Here's a list of the 12 items I'm awaiting from Play.com.
- Abigail II: The Revenge (CD)
- Amélie (DVD)
- Manhunt (PS2)
- Guitar Hero (PS2)
- Guitar Hero II (PS2)
- Guitar Hero Encore: Rocks The 80's (with guitar) (PS2)
- Parappa The Rapper 2 (PS2)
- Resident Evil Outbreak (PS2)
- Evil Dead: A Fist Full Of Boomstick (PS2)
- Silent Hill 2 (PS2)
- Galerians: Ash (PS2)
- Freak Out (PS2)
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Dixie's list of things that are currently pissing her off beyond belief:
- The new Guitar Hero Community layout
- The insane difficulty of Maximo
- The fact that Backloggery can't be accessed at college
- These pointless 3 and a half hour gaps between lessons
- The price of BLT sandwiches at college
- And the fact you can only get them like 2/5 days of the week
- The god dammned slow postal service
- Dickheads talking to me on MSN when I'm IDLE
- And by "dickheads" I only actually mean one person, who is a prick...
- My sore throat and mucous-dripping nose
- The lack of hours in a day in which to play all of my new games
- Homophobic twats at college
- Namely that blonde cunt who glares at me when I'm doing NOTHING
- These headphones making the INSIDES of my ears ITCHY
- The pricks in my English class
- Paul being a twat, mainly to Shelly for no reason
- The weather not deciding if it wants to be hot or cold
- Wii remote batteries dying so fucking quickly
- THE PIT OF 100 TRIALS
- The shitty "chart hits" on the radio at the moment
- Hoovering/dusting them it looking dirty again about 5 minutes later
- The decline of Limewire's awesomeness
- Lisa deciding not to display correct or ANY album artwork
- Mam's shitty insence making me choke
- NOT BEING ABLE TO POST BLOGS AT COLLEGE - HAVING TO SAVE THEM TO FUCKING WORD DOCUMENTS THEN POST THEM AT HOME...
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mad