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[Blog #297] --- Depressed --- [Wednesday] - ....Gah.
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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!!
Dixie currently feels:
Depressed
Depressed -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Blog #297
....Gah.
....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!!
Personal Demons
This is an original work by Duncan Morley, please don't fuck with it.
Personal Demons
In a single sight you may see a man, sleeping with his eyes open, but a man nonetheless. You can never see him for all that he is while he is there. He will never even see you for anything. He is a man obsessed. He is no longer a human; he is but a man gone mad.
He is lying alone in the woods of eastern Ontario. The bugs know not to leave him be, but the mammals and birds would rather devour their own offspring than take a step in his direction.
His body has been all but stripped to its bones. All around him the aroma of pus is prevalent. His breath is rapid and rattling. His mouth is dry, and his body is absorbed with open sores. The maggots and worms are already ravaging him. He is a man embracing Death, but Death will not take him.
He is a man who has stuck himself in time.
He lived in a small tight-knit community near the provincial town of Cobalt. He was a man whom some respected for his duties and tasks about the community, but most regarded him as a stranger to them, even though he has lived in the same spot for upwards of twenty years.
He was a reclusive man: he kept to himself. He would never have dreamt of leaving his home if it were not for his job or if food were not a necessity to him.
He worked as a wilderness guide in the Canadian forests; more commonly, a canoeing guide for the few local tourists. Sometimes he would leave with a client, or even all alone, for weeks at a time. He knew he was never at peace with the fresh waters and thus, he had an uncommon dread of his profession.
When he would eventually come back, he would go unseen. He would ride the river all the way to his cottage, and contrary to a welcome after up to a month alone, he would go unnoticed by the townspeople.
On one occasion he returned by the route straight through the village center. Although not many people were out, and when most saw him they did not know who he was, the ones that did were at a loss for words at his sudden appearance. He was a strong sight. He was carrying more than his share of food, but alone still.
It wasn’t a terribly uncommon sight to see him alone. The ones who knew his name figured he simply went out on a solo trip as opposed to business.
Once he was just out of earshot of the town a barely audible mumble was heard to arise from his boat:
“This… This makes no sense...”
With this he promptly disappeared to his home.
When he exited his boat and hung it upon his formal rack, as opposed to flipped next to his cottage. Despite the early time of 4:15 P.M., he hurried into his bed and soon fell asleep.
During the night, he dreamt a nightmare. He saw a body rising into the air. It rose so high the height was beyond recognition. The body began to glow a demonic green, and a river of the same mist flowed from its body. With no warning it burst into an inferno of grey flame.
He woke the next morning to remember nothing of the night before. Contrary to his normal routine, he showed himself at the town’s only diner. It was more of a chip-stand than anything else, but it served coffee. It served its purpose.
He ordered the drink, but never moved even once to so much as smell it. He let it sit until it was as cold as the air around him.
At about noontime, he was still motionless. A fellow townsman who sat down next to him, staring directly at him, greeted him. The townsman, Matthew Fraser, then waited half an hour himself before saying anything:
“Why have you come back?” He asked in a serious tone. “You know as well as I do that the people who know you here want you out.”
His first words in hours were spoken:
“But I have nowhere else to go,” he replied with a grin.
“ We don’t care about those things here, soon you too will realize that.”
“You really are the only one here who cares about me. You really are my only friend.”
With a smile, Matthew was gone.
The waitress, Leona Smith, then came over for an inquiry to what Mr. Fraser wanted. He told her it was just an innocent exchange of words. She asked him if he would be paying for the coffee that was drunk. With a puzzled glance at his now empty coffee mug he said:
“Yes.”
With this he paid the young lady, leaving a generous tip, and left her for his home once more.
A few days passed with no sight of him, but on the third day he was spotted once more at the diner. He once again ordered coffee, and he once again paid and left for his home.
He would never return to the diner, or for that matter, the village.
He laid down for sleep and entered yet another nightmare, from this one he would never wake.
It showed him living in a world not unlike the world in which he actually lived.
There was a small village near which a cottage sprung forth. The area was abundant in wildlife and had a moderate amount of people living in the town. But every living thing that was exposed to him in the dream would begin to decay. Some would bloat and host themselves to hideous parasites, while others would gain sunken features and seemingly wilt.
There was a constant glow of twilight around the town and along the river, it could be evaded nowhere in the dream.
The scene changed: it was now a portrait of the river that ran through the village. The river was not as he remembered it, instead of the crisp, cool blue he was used to, it was a cold and deep shade of black.
He knew what was to happen next.
In an instant the river went a pale white with a line of crimson waters flowing through it. With this he saw a spectral hand flowing through it. He only saw it briefly but he knew exactly what it was.
He cried out in horror. With this he woke the dead.
The body of Zachary Smith, recognizable only to him: the child he took on the prior trip, burst forth.
A completely different entity than the naïve young boy who set out weeks before, the thing that stood before him was a demon. A demon conjured from all the evil thoughts surrounding the boy’s death.
In a single swift motion, the demon brutally maimed him. The demon was to devour him.
It rose up into the sky. With a flash of remembrance he exclaimed:
“ At six miles up you will explode, I have seen it all!”
The demon replied:
“No one listens to the damned.”
But this man was not damned. He was an innocent, never taking more than he needed. It was an accident that the boy died. Leona knew this, Matthew knew this, but he did not.
The demon rose, to a total of what was now six miles, and burst apart in an inferno of grey flame.
With a moments hesitation he exclaimed for joy, for he thought he had defeated the demon.
Little Zachary began to form once again out of the ash. The man wept when he saw the boy again, but he knew it would not last. The boy began to grow wings, horns, black skin, and demonic eyes. He knew it was done.
A moment before the demon pierced his heart, it all ceased. There was a flash of absolute nothingness, followed by an eternal repetition of the agonizing horrors he experienced.
After two months since his last appearance the knowledgeable village people began to grow an uncertain concern. There was a buzz about the town of how he had fled without any reasons, or that the Ontario Provincial Police had found him living off the grid and taken him away.
Mr. Fraser knew that none of these rumors could be true. He set out for the man’s cottage that very evening.
After some ragged rapping upon a locked door, Mr. Fraser battered it down.
He arrived inside the house and immediately smelled the foul stench of rotting flesh. He moved into the bedroom and saw the body of his friend. It showed glassy eyes staring into nothing, it showed a split mouth, with dried blood all over his face. But what it didn’t show would be the question to haunt Matthew. It didn’t show the guilt of a man. It didn’t show the key to immortality to being eternal repentance. It didn't show the insanity of a man who would confine himself to damnation for an innocent crime.
Mr. Fraser simply closed his eyes and turned to leave: he could no longer save this man.
Personal Demons
In a single sight you may see a man, sleeping with his eyes open, but a man nonetheless. You can never see him for all that he is while he is there. He will never even see you for anything. He is a man obsessed. He is no longer a human; he is but a man gone mad.
He is lying alone in the woods of eastern Ontario. The bugs know not to leave him be, but the mammals and birds would rather devour their own offspring than take a step in his direction.
His body has been all but stripped to its bones. All around him the aroma of pus is prevalent. His breath is rapid and rattling. His mouth is dry, and his body is absorbed with open sores. The maggots and worms are already ravaging him. He is a man embracing Death, but Death will not take him.
He is a man who has stuck himself in time.
He lived in a small tight-knit community near the provincial town of Cobalt. He was a man whom some respected for his duties and tasks about the community, but most regarded him as a stranger to them, even though he has lived in the same spot for upwards of twenty years.
He was a reclusive man: he kept to himself. He would never have dreamt of leaving his home if it were not for his job or if food were not a necessity to him.
He worked as a wilderness guide in the Canadian forests; more commonly, a canoeing guide for the few local tourists. Sometimes he would leave with a client, or even all alone, for weeks at a time. He knew he was never at peace with the fresh waters and thus, he had an uncommon dread of his profession.
When he would eventually come back, he would go unseen. He would ride the river all the way to his cottage, and contrary to a welcome after up to a month alone, he would go unnoticed by the townspeople.
On one occasion he returned by the route straight through the village center. Although not many people were out, and when most saw him they did not know who he was, the ones that did were at a loss for words at his sudden appearance. He was a strong sight. He was carrying more than his share of food, but alone still.
It wasn’t a terribly uncommon sight to see him alone. The ones who knew his name figured he simply went out on a solo trip as opposed to business.
Once he was just out of earshot of the town a barely audible mumble was heard to arise from his boat:
“This… This makes no sense...”
With this he promptly disappeared to his home.
When he exited his boat and hung it upon his formal rack, as opposed to flipped next to his cottage. Despite the early time of 4:15 P.M., he hurried into his bed and soon fell asleep.
During the night, he dreamt a nightmare. He saw a body rising into the air. It rose so high the height was beyond recognition. The body began to glow a demonic green, and a river of the same mist flowed from its body. With no warning it burst into an inferno of grey flame.
He woke the next morning to remember nothing of the night before. Contrary to his normal routine, he showed himself at the town’s only diner. It was more of a chip-stand than anything else, but it served coffee. It served its purpose.
He ordered the drink, but never moved even once to so much as smell it. He let it sit until it was as cold as the air around him.
At about noontime, he was still motionless. A fellow townsman who sat down next to him, staring directly at him, greeted him. The townsman, Matthew Fraser, then waited half an hour himself before saying anything:
“Why have you come back?” He asked in a serious tone. “You know as well as I do that the people who know you here want you out.”
His first words in hours were spoken:
“But I have nowhere else to go,” he replied with a grin.
“ We don’t care about those things here, soon you too will realize that.”
“You really are the only one here who cares about me. You really are my only friend.”
With a smile, Matthew was gone.
The waitress, Leona Smith, then came over for an inquiry to what Mr. Fraser wanted. He told her it was just an innocent exchange of words. She asked him if he would be paying for the coffee that was drunk. With a puzzled glance at his now empty coffee mug he said:
“Yes.”
With this he paid the young lady, leaving a generous tip, and left her for his home once more.
A few days passed with no sight of him, but on the third day he was spotted once more at the diner. He once again ordered coffee, and he once again paid and left for his home.
He would never return to the diner, or for that matter, the village.
He laid down for sleep and entered yet another nightmare, from this one he would never wake.
It showed him living in a world not unlike the world in which he actually lived.
There was a small village near which a cottage sprung forth. The area was abundant in wildlife and had a moderate amount of people living in the town. But every living thing that was exposed to him in the dream would begin to decay. Some would bloat and host themselves to hideous parasites, while others would gain sunken features and seemingly wilt.
There was a constant glow of twilight around the town and along the river, it could be evaded nowhere in the dream.
The scene changed: it was now a portrait of the river that ran through the village. The river was not as he remembered it, instead of the crisp, cool blue he was used to, it was a cold and deep shade of black.
He knew what was to happen next.
In an instant the river went a pale white with a line of crimson waters flowing through it. With this he saw a spectral hand flowing through it. He only saw it briefly but he knew exactly what it was.
He cried out in horror. With this he woke the dead.
The body of Zachary Smith, recognizable only to him: the child he took on the prior trip, burst forth.
A completely different entity than the naïve young boy who set out weeks before, the thing that stood before him was a demon. A demon conjured from all the evil thoughts surrounding the boy’s death.
In a single swift motion, the demon brutally maimed him. The demon was to devour him.
It rose up into the sky. With a flash of remembrance he exclaimed:
“ At six miles up you will explode, I have seen it all!”
The demon replied:
“No one listens to the damned.”
But this man was not damned. He was an innocent, never taking more than he needed. It was an accident that the boy died. Leona knew this, Matthew knew this, but he did not.
The demon rose, to a total of what was now six miles, and burst apart in an inferno of grey flame.
With a moments hesitation he exclaimed for joy, for he thought he had defeated the demon.
Little Zachary began to form once again out of the ash. The man wept when he saw the boy again, but he knew it would not last. The boy began to grow wings, horns, black skin, and demonic eyes. He knew it was done.
A moment before the demon pierced his heart, it all ceased. There was a flash of absolute nothingness, followed by an eternal repetition of the agonizing horrors he experienced.
After two months since his last appearance the knowledgeable village people began to grow an uncertain concern. There was a buzz about the town of how he had fled without any reasons, or that the Ontario Provincial Police had found him living off the grid and taken him away.
Mr. Fraser knew that none of these rumors could be true. He set out for the man’s cottage that very evening.
After some ragged rapping upon a locked door, Mr. Fraser battered it down.
He arrived inside the house and immediately smelled the foul stench of rotting flesh. He moved into the bedroom and saw the body of his friend. It showed glassy eyes staring into nothing, it showed a split mouth, with dried blood all over his face. But what it didn’t show would be the question to haunt Matthew. It didn’t show the guilt of a man. It didn’t show the key to immortality to being eternal repentance. It didn't show the insanity of a man who would confine himself to damnation for an innocent crime.
Mr. Fraser simply closed his eyes and turned to leave: he could no longer save this man.
LIFE
The more I think about it, the more I feel trapped. Society has captured us and are using us as tools. We abide by its laws and are being strictly watched over...You know who I blame? The fuckers that fucked up the freedom for us. Tryin tuh take advantage of the system, shit happenning way too many times that they hafta ruin it for the rest of us who want to have a good time. Think of it as this way, You need to use the bathroom and theres a line, but some asshole/assholette was tryna be funny and blew up the only toilet in that bathroom...Fuck you asshole/assholette. I want to kick your ass now.
What else could happen? God only knows....God...only knows...
Blessed those who are not blessed as Jesus would say. Why? Becuase they're dumb and need to be educated! I've noticed while reading the bible, that sometimes simple is the best way to go. Take the Good Samaritan parable for example. Some guy got his ass kicked and the priest walked past him, because in scripture it sed not to touch dead things. So from that kind of labeling, he walked past. And then some other bullshit ppl walked passed too. Then came this Samaritan guy. Half Jew half Gentile, pretty much considered trash. Apparetnly this guy was either simple minded or his heart was just that great. He picked up the beat up guy, tried to heal his wound and spent his money at an inn for this guy. Anyways, Jesus was trying to get to the point of love your neighbors/ brothers and sisters as you would love yourself. No matter whatever the eff they are. Gay, black, hindu, mexican, asian, communist, muslim. Love them. Why? Iunno. Maybe because there's more to life then just hate? Prolly because loving is more fun than despising? Although I do understand despising the unwise is quite easy to do. You should atleast try to act with respect around them. They too will eventually come to respect you as well. Be the bigger person. Show that you can cooler by being mature of the situation.
With that said, I also believe that all this religion hate shit should stop. Seriously? Alot of the religions worship the same God!! whats different? The texts....thats it!! just a bunch of words on paper is seperating our harmony and love for eachother on this planet. You do know the soul purpose of Him creating us right? So that we may gather to worship Him. Rules and regulations came later on in the book because of what I was talking about earlier from those asshole/assholettes!
It's so horrible how history repeats itself. It also hard to believe that all these nations will fall and new ones will be created eventually. USA might be called something else! Just like how Rome is now called Italy. And Babylon is now Iraq or something like that. It's so hard to see what the future brings. And what is the significance of my life? Live and Die...What will I leave behind? Who will remember me? HA! its funny how epiphanies work. So apparently I now have a better understanding of this do not worry bout the worldly troubles. No one will end up remembering you unless you were of some sort of political force or a cultural genius that helped change the course of time. Everything you end up leaving behind will be trash, BUT!! the kingdom of heaven awaits...So what would I do now that this whole world shit is just but a waste of time? I would share what I know by doing exactly what Jesus was doing. No, not healing the blind, or any other miracles.although that'd be pretty cool. No, what Jesus did was that He came to our world, as a servant. Jesus Christ!!! of all people!! HIM!! the son of God!! came down....to serve us...wtf!! why? because He loves us. Anyways, what he did. was serve. He tried his best to show the people what he was doing. Now that I think about it. It was prolly like tryna tell a really ignorant person that this is how things are done but its not easy for that person to take it in because thats not what he saw. That is why Jesus had to perform miracles!
hahaha!! I bet he was talking to the folks then, they were like...uhhhhh...so then Jesus sighs and was like. okie look. blind person right? now he can see!! thanks to God!!....ohhhhhhhh....what?? do it again!!!
Anyways...im off track...once i ramble on about God it ends up being weird... haha
so yea. Life...it's hard stuff...even harder when you dedicate it to God. the difference is, God will make you happy in the end!! So what do you do? Easy.
Love, Share it.
Dedicate, show it.
Be Wise, There's alot of people that will try to take advantage of you.
Sharing, Love it.
etc. etc....You will learn it yourself along the journey. That's the best way to learn right?
Haha, not really what I had in mind when I started this. It was supposed to be another 2 sentence entry...but w/e. wen my mind starts going. I juss gotta either jot it down or type! so yea.
Okie, ummm im really bad at conclusions so uhh... yea
Amen! :D
What else could happen? God only knows....God...only knows...
Blessed those who are not blessed as Jesus would say. Why? Becuase they're dumb and need to be educated! I've noticed while reading the bible, that sometimes simple is the best way to go. Take the Good Samaritan parable for example. Some guy got his ass kicked and the priest walked past him, because in scripture it sed not to touch dead things. So from that kind of labeling, he walked past. And then some other bullshit ppl walked passed too. Then came this Samaritan guy. Half Jew half Gentile, pretty much considered trash. Apparetnly this guy was either simple minded or his heart was just that great. He picked up the beat up guy, tried to heal his wound and spent his money at an inn for this guy. Anyways, Jesus was trying to get to the point of love your neighbors/ brothers and sisters as you would love yourself. No matter whatever the eff they are. Gay, black, hindu, mexican, asian, communist, muslim. Love them. Why? Iunno. Maybe because there's more to life then just hate? Prolly because loving is more fun than despising? Although I do understand despising the unwise is quite easy to do. You should atleast try to act with respect around them. They too will eventually come to respect you as well. Be the bigger person. Show that you can cooler by being mature of the situation.
With that said, I also believe that all this religion hate shit should stop. Seriously? Alot of the religions worship the same God!! whats different? The texts....thats it!! just a bunch of words on paper is seperating our harmony and love for eachother on this planet. You do know the soul purpose of Him creating us right? So that we may gather to worship Him. Rules and regulations came later on in the book because of what I was talking about earlier from those asshole/assholettes!
It's so horrible how history repeats itself. It also hard to believe that all these nations will fall and new ones will be created eventually. USA might be called something else! Just like how Rome is now called Italy. And Babylon is now Iraq or something like that. It's so hard to see what the future brings. And what is the significance of my life? Live and Die...What will I leave behind? Who will remember me? HA! its funny how epiphanies work. So apparently I now have a better understanding of this do not worry bout the worldly troubles. No one will end up remembering you unless you were of some sort of political force or a cultural genius that helped change the course of time. Everything you end up leaving behind will be trash, BUT!! the kingdom of heaven awaits...So what would I do now that this whole world shit is just but a waste of time? I would share what I know by doing exactly what Jesus was doing. No, not healing the blind, or any other miracles.although that'd be pretty cool. No, what Jesus did was that He came to our world, as a servant. Jesus Christ!!! of all people!! HIM!! the son of God!! came down....to serve us...wtf!! why? because He loves us. Anyways, what he did. was serve. He tried his best to show the people what he was doing. Now that I think about it. It was prolly like tryna tell a really ignorant person that this is how things are done but its not easy for that person to take it in because thats not what he saw. That is why Jesus had to perform miracles!
hahaha!! I bet he was talking to the folks then, they were like...uhhhhh...so then Jesus sighs and was like. okie look. blind person right? now he can see!! thanks to God!!....ohhhhhhhh....what?? do it again!!!
Anyways...im off track...once i ramble on about God it ends up being weird... haha
so yea. Life...it's hard stuff...even harder when you dedicate it to God. the difference is, God will make you happy in the end!! So what do you do? Easy.
Love, Share it.
Dedicate, show it.
Be Wise, There's alot of people that will try to take advantage of you.
Sharing, Love it.
etc. etc....You will learn it yourself along the journey. That's the best way to learn right?
Haha, not really what I had in mind when I started this. It was supposed to be another 2 sentence entry...but w/e. wen my mind starts going. I juss gotta either jot it down or type! so yea.
Okie, ummm im really bad at conclusions so uhh... yea
Amen! :D
Humans, opinions and safety
I was watching Independence Day and I was listening to this speech made by th president in the movie:
"Good morning. In less than an hour, aircraft from here will join others from around the world. And you will be launching the largest aerial battle in this history of mankind.
Mankind -- that word should have new meaning for all of us today.
We can't be consumed by our petty differences anymore.
We will be united in our common interests.
Perhaps its fate that today is the 4th of July, and you will once again be fighting for our freedom, not from tyranny, oppression, or persecution -- but from annihilation.
We're fighting for our right to live, to exist.
And should we win the day, the 4th of July will no longer be known as an American holiday, but as the day when the world declared in one voice:
"We will not go quietly into the night!
We will not vanish without a fight!
We're going to live on!
We're going to survive!"
Today, we celebrate our Independence Day!"
If it actually takes a threat of worldwide human annihilation to get other people to recognize that we are all one race on one planet, then may the creatures willing to eradicate the human race try to.
I'm tired of the shit that humans do to each other or even accuse each other of.
I'm tired of people being antagonistic towards people who think the earth was created by an intelligent designer instead of evolution and who knows what started it. There is "proof" for both and it depends on how one interprets the data. Until I finally finish my time machine none of us will know for certain.
I'm tired of this stupid idea of hate crime legislation. First off, we were founded as a nation with the freedom of speech, a freedom of ideas, a freedom to have our own opinions and a freedom OF religion (not 'from' you illiterate people). As long as no one is physically hurting/harming another human being each person should have the right to believe what they want to and have their own opinions. The hate legislation will basically deny everyone their right to an opinion and the right to express it.
Those who would give up essential liberty to purchase a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.
Benjamin Franklin (1706 - 1790), Historical Review of Pennsylvania, 1759
The First Amendment is often inconvenient. But that is besides the point. Inconvenience does not absolve the government of its obligation to tolerate speech.
Justice Anthony Kennedy (1936 - )
It is by the goodness of God that in our country we have those three unspeakably precious things: freedom of speech, freedom of conscience, and the prudence never to practice either of them.
Mark Twain (1835 - 1910), Following the Equator
I would rather be exposed to the inconveniences attending too much liberty than to those attending too small a degree of it.
Thomas Jefferson (1743 - 1826), to Archibald Stuart, 1791
My definition of a free society is a society where it is safe to be unpopular.
Adlai E. Stevenson Jr. (1900 - 1965), Speech in Detroit, 7 Oct. 1952
[Blog #207] --- Suicidal --- [Tuesday] - What the fuck is wrong with me?
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Alright, I've been feeling shit for over a week now.
I got so upset earlier, I laid on my bed and thought about what I've been doing the last week that I don't normally do. I've compiled a list:
And I don't even know what the fuck could have triggered it off.
I got depressed earlier over watching this shitty programme with mam - and I don't even know why.
I managed to force myself to cry, and because I can't cut myself at the moment (mam would see, it's far too warm to wear long sleeves to hide them) - I punched myself in the face and smashed my head against my headboard and my wardrobe. I gave myself a massive headache, made my nose bleed a little bit and triggered off my asthma.
Shelly rang me in the midst of all this - then I ended up arguing with her.
I went on MSN to talk to Adam - then I went to lay on my bed again mid-conversation.
He's changed his personal message to angry stuff and his Facebook status is all like "Hmph, some fucking friends" - I don't understand, is he angry at me because I stopped talking?
He just went straight offline too, so maybe he's angry at me as well.
Shelly was angry at me for ages - she used something against me that she shouldn't have and I hung up on her and turned my phone off - then got around to calming down, letting her ring me again - made an effort to sort things out, but it didn't seem to fucking get anywhere.
She even suggested we split up, for if we couldn't go back to being friends - it would affect Ash, and all this.
Sigh, I don't know what the fuck to do with myself.
I was considering jumping out of my window earlier.
It's only about 12 feet from the ground, I wouldn't have died - maybe just broken an arm.
I was actually quite close to sitting on the windowsill - I was knelt on my entertainment stand, with my elbows on the frame - looking down out of it...
For fuck's sake - why can't I just die.
Every time I try to trigger an asthma attack - something MAKES me take my bastard salbutamol and then all my efforts are wasted.
What's the fucking point.
If I knew what the fuck was wrong with me, I'd make an effort to sort it.
But I just don't know.
Dixie currently feels:
Suicidal
Suicidal -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Blog #207
What the fuck is wrong with me?
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Alright, I've been feeling shit for over a week now.
I got so upset earlier, I laid on my bed and thought about what I've been doing the last week that I don't normally do. I've compiled a list:
- I either eat shitloads or nothing at all
- I can't be bothered showering, brushing my teeth/hair or general hygiene tasks
- I can't sleep on a nighttime - at least not before 4AM
- I randomly fall asleep during the day
- I'm cutting myself every day
- I can't force myself to cry
- I don't seem to think very often
- I can't be bothered talking
- I'm not being difficult when mam asks me to do things
- In effect, I'm actually being nicer to her
- I'm not turning my light on when it gets dark
- I'm feeling the need to masturbate a lot - especially at around 12AM-2AM
- I'm randomly gagging when I put food in my mouth
- I'm always thirsty
- I'm getting a lot of headaches
- I'm getting a lot of random stomach cramps
- My stomach often feels harder than usual
- I'm not going to the toilet very often
- I'm always warmer than usual
- I can't concentrate on something for very long
- My excema is going mental
- My chest always feels tight
- But I feel less and less bothered to actually take my tablets/inhalers
- I'm more proned to shouting at Shelly for being stupid, and have done several times
- I find myself sitting somewhere for an hour and not actually accomplishing or even doing anything
- I can't keep my head straight for very long - it seems to flop to my right a lot
- My arms feel very weak
- As do my fingers and my wrists
- My eyes sting randomly and my vision fucks up
And I don't even know what the fuck could have triggered it off.
I got depressed earlier over watching this shitty programme with mam - and I don't even know why.
I managed to force myself to cry, and because I can't cut myself at the moment (mam would see, it's far too warm to wear long sleeves to hide them) - I punched myself in the face and smashed my head against my headboard and my wardrobe. I gave myself a massive headache, made my nose bleed a little bit and triggered off my asthma.
Shelly rang me in the midst of all this - then I ended up arguing with her.
I went on MSN to talk to Adam - then I went to lay on my bed again mid-conversation.
He's changed his personal message to angry stuff and his Facebook status is all like "Hmph, some fucking friends" - I don't understand, is he angry at me because I stopped talking?
He just went straight offline too, so maybe he's angry at me as well.
Shelly was angry at me for ages - she used something against me that she shouldn't have and I hung up on her and turned my phone off - then got around to calming down, letting her ring me again - made an effort to sort things out, but it didn't seem to fucking get anywhere.
She even suggested we split up, for if we couldn't go back to being friends - it would affect Ash, and all this.
Sigh, I don't know what the fuck to do with myself.
I was considering jumping out of my window earlier.
It's only about 12 feet from the ground, I wouldn't have died - maybe just broken an arm.
I was actually quite close to sitting on the windowsill - I was knelt on my entertainment stand, with my elbows on the frame - looking down out of it...
For fuck's sake - why can't I just die.
Every time I try to trigger an asthma attack - something MAKES me take my bastard salbutamol and then all my efforts are wasted.
What's the fucking point.
If I knew what the fuck was wrong with me, I'd make an effort to sort it.
But I just don't know.
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