Crying @ MindSay

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There's one easy way to tell if a session with Dianne was meaningful: I'll end up crying.
I try so fucking hard to stop myself, this time I was bending my fingers and squeezing my wrists - but as I said to her, if I start, I don't end up stopping.
I spoke to her a little bit about "5 to 15" - I recollected a few events. Those that I didn't think were majorly important, or that I don't think would have affected me that much in the future - but Dianne seemed to think they were useful information.
 
I got my first draft of the film studies coursework back today - Sarah said it's A-grade standard, but the fact I missed out a few chunks of information in places, it's only a C/B. So I'll be adding to it shortly - she's told me I ought to get an A overall for the coursework. I hope so. I want an A for film studies, seeing as how I managed to get one in media studies last year too.
 
I sat on the 2nd floor of the LRC in my break between the session with Dianne and my English lesson. I listened to Spieluhr on repeat for a while, until it started getting on my nerves - then swapped to Silverstein and Blind Guardian. I updated the blogs I'd left blank for Tuesday and Wednesday and had a mooch about on some randomers' blogs.
 
I've always hated English since I came to college - loved it before I came here, then it suddenly just got shit. I despise it even more now that Adam has been put into D block with me. He sits with Siobhan - he was sort of adjacent to me on the tables today, I was in a shit mood and he kept saying random shite to make me smile. I did smile at some of them, but I didn't feel smiley inside. I feel uncomfortable in that room as it is with all the arseholes in there, but it's gotten worse now Adam's there too. Sigh.
 
Hannah pissed me off too. I was simply asking Angela what it was we were supposed to be making notes on, and she goes: "We did the pragmatics yesterday... YOU KNOW, THE STUDY OF SOUND?"
I just gave her my psycho glare and growled: "I KNOW WHAT FUCKING PRAGMATICS ARE."
I'm surprised she didn't retaliate, she looked more surprised than offended at my response. Oh, I fucking hate her. She's always riles me because of her fucking ridiculous nasal-voice, but as soon as someone treats me like I lack intellect, they become hatred targets. Inconsiderate shit-sniffers!
 
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On the bus home, I was listening to Blind Guardian louder than I should have done - and this random old woman kept turning around and giving me weird looks. Fucking slag. You'd think sitting behind an aged person, they'd be too deaf to hear your music. I don't have it THAT loud!
It just sounds louder in small spaces, such as lifts... :)
 
I'm a proper arsehole in the bus station though - I was bounding off to catch up with the bus that was due to leave the bay - and there was this huddle of dirty chavs standing by the railings that just didn't want to move - so I just SHOULDERED one out of the way - the look she gave me was proper funny. I didn't even look at her, I just carried on, fueled by my full-blast Rammstein. :)
 
When I got in, I made myself some of those chicken & bacon motzarella wraps and ate them while I watched Spongebob Squarepants. Nickelodeon seriously couldn't time it better - it always seems to be on whenever I get in. I like watching cartoons after college, it re-fills my happy levels. My happy levels are usually always below centre, but they drop to negative figures when I'm at college. The shithole that it is.
Well, not the building or the tutors or even the lessons - it's the arseholes that are there.
 
I went upstairs, set up my Wii and I finished off Spyro: Enter The Dragonfly.
Good fucking riddance, that's one game I'm not re-playing in a hurry. Thankfully, it was only £3.50, so I didn't waste that much on it. It's not a TERRIBLE game, but compared to the other Spyro games, it just doesn't even compete. And they're on PS1 - this is a GC/PS2 game!
It's just the overall glitchiness that ruins it. All the disappearing floors, voice lags, control reversals, camera freezing and general jumping about makes it a chore. It's also WAY too easy. Having different breath attacks instead of power-up portals is NOT Spyro! The time limits on the power-ups is what makes it fun!
 
And the lack of the locate gems feature doesn't make it harder - it just makes it goddamn tedious. And WHY do you collect DRAGONFLIES? Not eggs, not baby dragons - ach.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who thinks it's wank though - GameFAQs reviewers all only give it 2/10 and 3/10.
I've completed all of the PS1 Spyros at least twice each, because they have excellent replay value - but as per fucking usual, as soon as a mint PS1 series gets ported to PS2, it FAILS.
It happened with Crash, it happened with Parappa The Rapper - it was obviously going to happen to Spyro. :(
 
Tee hee, bad game rant is over. :D
 
 
So, with that pile of crap removed from my to-be-completed games wallet and put back into the box at the bottom of the stack, not to be played again in a hurry - I replaced it with Resident Evil.
Now is the time for me to complete the scenario with Chris. Seeing as how Chris is supposed to be hard mode, I'm very surprised at how easy it is. I'm not sure if it's got to do with the fact I already know my way around due to completing it with Jill - but when I played her scenario, I must have died a good 10 times. I'm at the guardhouse currently and I've not died once. The snake didn't even hurt me, and Chris only gets a shitty shotgun, Forest's bazooka just doesn't seem to be present.
 
I still shit myself when Lisa Trevor came in the outside hut - even though I knew she was coming - she scares the shit out of me. She's what makes the Resi 1 re-make so much scarier. That and all the graphical touch-ups, crimson heads, insane puzzles, extra rooms and the general darker overtone and detailed environments.
 
I should stop talking about games, otherwise I'll just end up turning my blog into a games review. :)

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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!!

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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!

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This is horrible.
I've had a perfectly reasonable day - yet I've had a moment of destructive lapse and now I feel like slitting my wrists as per usual.
 
Fair enough, I've felt pretty shitty recently. I'm unsure why. The slightest little thing has been making me depressed and suicidal for hours, days even weeks on end. I felt reasonable yesterday and I've felt reasonable for practically all of today - it was just from 9PM onwards. I don't even know what triggered me. I can't even see this trigger. Normally I can recognise them.
 
About today, anyway...
Shelly said she was coming earlier so we could express our love for each other colourfully, as we do. But she came well later than she'd said, so we only got to have a little quickie. It was alright, I suppose. I'd have liked longer, but if that's all I could have had, I wouldn't have been THAT bothered - because along with my shitty mood recently, I've also had a massive loss in sex drive. It sucks. I neither want it or want to give it. I make myself give it, because I don't want to upset Shelly. I don't enjoy it as much as I normally would, but I don't despise it either, so... :(
 
Ash came at about quarter past 12 and we kicked off our day with some Nintendo 64 action.
I don't know what it is with Ash, but if she knows I have new games, she doesn't like me to leave them until I've finished other ones. She likes me to try out all my new games as soon as she's there, or as soon as I can.
 
Thus, she requested that I play Turok: Rage Wars.
My first disappointment came when I realised I couldn't actually save my progress because I don't have a controller pak. But I disregarded this and carried on to the single-player mode.
Now this is where my entire failure at first-person-shooter games became apparent. I can't aim to save my life. I'd miss the first few shots before I actually got to kill the bastard dinosaurs.
 
I also didn't like the controls. The control stick was for AIMING. The C BUTTONS were for MOVING.
I was just like WTF.... The C buttons are usually fairly useless on most N64 games. They're just for camera control or special moves.
 
I suppose if I was a lover of shooting games, this would be a pretty good game. But the fact I despise the entire genre has indeed put a negative slant on my opinion. At least I can recognise this. I can make valid points when I express reasons why I do and don't like games. (I'm not a stubborn biased little cow like Shelly is - although this opinion is about to be proven wrong towards the end of this blog. :P)

This irony of my terrible aim then became apparent when I tried to squirt my magic ink at Ash's shirt. I aimed about 4 inches too high and instead of getting her chest - I got her in the face. Totally missed my target... Her face was pretty hilarious, but then I felt really guilty about it. I still do. :(
 
Not giving up on the N64 though - I played through the first hour or so of Conker's Bad Fur Day. I had to make sure I included the boss fight with The Great Mighty Poo and the cutscene with the prune juice and the cows.
Ash and Shelly are a right pair of miserable gits - when Adam and I played CBFD together, we were in absolute fits, but they didn't find it half as amusing as we did. :(

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The next few hours were taken up by sharing round my jar of fruit rock and playing through the band career on Guitar Hero: Metallica.
Dixie played lead, Shelly played bass and Ash played drums. We were a reasonable set and we bagged a fair few 4 and 5 star rankings. Shelly and I continued on for a few songs afterwards when Ash got bored.
I want to finish off the band career - namely so I can mark it down as BEATEN on my Backloggery. :P

I made us turkey drummers and waffles for tea.
When dad was upstairs on the PC, I must've started to get the sugar rush effect from the fruit rock. I went into this weird mood.

I was sort of describing a hot sex fantasy to Shelly over the table. I knew I was half-serious - the look on her face was fucking hilarious and Ash was absolutley pissing herself. I can remember most of it, lmao. Let us document it here so I can look back and get aroused over it. :P

"We could go into the kitchen together... You wearing your chef whites and your hat... And you can make me a cake. You can sit me on the worktop while I watch you mix up the batter for me... Then you'd let me lick the bowl... You'd ask me if I wanted extra chocolate chips and I'd be all like (sexual voice) 'OH YES CHEF...' And perhaps I'd beat you on the bum with a fish slice..."

- And it sort of carried on like that for about 10 minutes. I'm fucking epic at making up things on the spot. I didn't even stumble or falter - it just kept on coming for quite a while before I ran out of ideas. :)

Shelly was like: "YOU'RE BEING SERIOUS AREN'T YOU?"
And I'm like: "...I MIGHT BE!"

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Dad letting me have a pint of fruit cider did absolutley nothing to calm this hyper mood down either.
I was doing a weird combination of laughs - ones I'd never even heard before. Ash kept giving me the look then pissing herself at me.

The two of us got Shelly to play Legend Of Zelda: The Wind Waker.
We both thought she wouldn't even try it - but she got up the the pirate ship hold. Fair enough she's a bit dozy and we had to lead her about first - but she even proved how quick she understands games. When she got to the Outset Forest, I said "right then, you know what to do, you can do this bit by yourself" - and she was purposely running round in circles, but she knew EXACTLY the way you had to go.
Fucking slag. :P

Ash went home at around ten to nine - and Shelly got her wicked way with me.
I still felt reluctant at first, as I have done for weeks, but we finally got somewhere.
I didn't do her for very long, so I told her not to do me for long either - but within 10 minutes, she'd got me to do that which I hadn't been able to do for so long. It felt fucking amazing - but then I cried.

And from crying, lead to sort of bawling.
It was the usual crying I do after climax, but then it sort of turned into upset crying - and I wasn't even sure why I got upset. Shelly and I didn't get much time to sort it afterwards either, because dad took her home at 10. I dried my eyes and went with her in the car home - but when I got back, I cut myself.
If only I knew WHY I'd gotten so upset... Perhaps I could have sorted it myself and stopped myself from hurting myself, but...

This is what I want the most. This what I've always wanted, but now it's a stronger feeling, cuz I've never actually had it before. This is what I ask for at night.

 

I want a best friend. I want someone who wants what I want. That approves of everything I do. Someone who likes what I like and says my thoughts while they're still growing in my head. I want them to walk like me, talk like me, laugh with me, and cry with me. Someone who can't stand to be away from me and has to talk to me every day. I want a best friend who I can trust. I just want to meet somebody exactly like me. Who's always there for me. Show up together, leave together. She is me. But where is she?