Scared @ MindSay

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It's a good thing I didn't really have anything major that was bothering me this week. Well, there was the one thing that arose in Film Studies this morning.
Tuesdays are now assigned to be coursework lessons - so we were in the ICT suite on the 3rd floor, "doing coursework" - only I was attempting to do mine, but I had something stopping me.
I had all the clips I needed on my memory stick - they were all uploaded to the video editor fairly quickly - the same one I use at home - Windows Movie Maker, bog-standard, but it gets the job done. I had my script, I knew how I wanted it to look - I should have been all set to bung the clips together, save the project then edit all the sound at home with WavePad and dub it together.

But I think I'm scared of assembling it. I know there's some clips that haven't worked quite as well. I knew that there would be some jumpiness between certain clips - hence the reason I filmed some "filler clips" - just close-ups of objects and surroundings to break the flow and ease the jump from clip to clip - I did make some form of effort to sort it out. But I just know it's not going to turn out as I'd hoped. Fair enough, the trailer didn't, The Wheelchair didn't. When I wrote Regenbogen Strifen - that didn't.

And the problem is, I'm not even sure WHY I'm so scared of assembling it. :/

I would have told Dianne about this in our session - but it was cancelled.
I worked it out after sitting on the stairs by the room for 15 minutes - then giving up.
She'd actually sent me a text - but I only realised this when I got home and read it.

I told Sarah too - but she said I should just bite the bullet and assemble it.
I did tell her about my Plan B - if it went TOTALLY tits-up and wouldn't get anywhere near a decent grade - I'd take film stills and do the digital storyboard option. But that isn't the point - I shouldn't HAVE TO - I wanted to do the fucking FILM OPTION!

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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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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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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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Dixie currently feels:

 Neutral

 

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Blog #65

Blood, Bloody & Bloodier!

 

 

Today has been the most meaningful session I've spent with Dianne yet.

I brought along a copy of Regenbogen Streifen and let her read it.

 

Together, I've discovered even more ambiguity and double-meanings to a lot of the sections.

 

For instance - the part I wrote about crossing the road mindlessly and being saved by a stranger before I was ran over - this actually refers to February 2008 where I attempted suicide by walking out into main road.

Though, the day I wrote Regenbogen Streifen, I was walking to the bus station - there was a disabled boy walking in front of me. I've seen him in college, I think he has Down's Syndrome, or something similar.

Either way, we got to a crossing, and I looked at him as if to say: "Hey, wait until I go over, then it'll be safe."- and he did; because I knew he'd have just went straight over otherwise.

I continued on, he still walking in front of me - until we came to a second crossing. He went to cross as traffic was still going by and the red man was still displayed - a woman behind us grabbed him by the arm and stopped him.

 

Also - the sections about sex - I refer to my hands as "useless appendages" - although the narrator is not gendered, the people they desire are clearly gendered as female. Obviously, it's written as myself, so it's from the perspective of a lesbian - but it could be viewed as a male desiring these females, and the "useless appendage" could refer to his penis.

 

We both agree that I'm far better in writing than I am verbally.

I know this myself, I communicate myself and my feelings across far better in writing than I do speaking.

This is why I'll only ever use text speak shorthand for comedic effect. Everything I write is written in continual prose - even on MSN and online forums I write in fully punctuated sentences.

 

I know my punctuation has a spazzy fit on my blog though - I use dashes in proper random places.

 

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After my session, I went and sat on the square tables - took out my sketchbook, plugged in Lisa and the "NEW PLAYLIST" (which I've recently updated), and wrote 3 pages of analysis to stick into my sketchbook.

When they're stuck in, I'll have completed around 10 pages.

 

My "NEW PLAYLIST" now has 170 songs, instead of the previous 150.

I deleted it totally and started again - this time adding some overlooked favourites.

 

Ashleigh and Shelly came into college not long before their A block lesson - sat with me for a while and talked.

One of the chairs was taken up by my tuppaware box - containing my 3 litres of fake blood.

Today was the day of my Photography exam, and I was absolutley shitting it.

 

While those two were in A block, I resorted to Solitaire.

I'd been distracted from my sketchbook work - and once that happens, it's difficult for me to get back into the right mindset to continue with it.

 

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After they'd came back - we all walked into town, first stopping off at the Dundas Arcade so I could buy an ox heart.

£1.70 - which isn't bad. Pig's hearts are about 35-45p, and ox hearts are considerably bigger.

And considerably HEAVIER. They must weigh about 2 stones.

Thankfully, Ashleigh said I could hang it on her handles as I was pushing her. This took a bit of strain off my arms.

 

We stopped off at Home Bargains and Greggs - then went and sat in a different place yet again.

We sat by the text tower in the centre, on the black stone bricks.

THEY'RE FUCKING FREEZING.

I sat on it and squealed as the cold penetrated my arse cheeks. Shelly did the same, rofl.

 

I did vow to myself that I wasn't going to eat a lot of chocolate, incase nerves and squeamishness got to me during my exam shoot and I ended up vomiting - but I changed my mind and ate a Terry's Chocolate Orange bar and a chocolate bunny with praline in the middle.

I bought two of those, but I did save one for later on.

 

I'd bought Sprite today - a variation on my usual Pepsi.

Sprite makes me feel funny inside.

 

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Walking back to college, I was pretty close to "bottling it", as Shelly puts it.

I had bus fare in my pocket, I could have skipped off the exam and just got the Leven Valley bus back to nana's.

 

Shelly tried reverse psychology on me. She knows I'm almost as childish as she is - so she was like: "Alright, you just go... Come on Ashleigh, we'll leave her..."

 

So eventually I did end up following them with my tail between my legs.

I hadn't actually gone anywhere - they'd just started walking faster in front of me.

 

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Arriving back at college, we had around 20 minutes before E block - so we sat on the benches in front of Hair & Beauty.

I didn't say much, I was drowning in my own fears.

 

When the time came, Ashleigh practically took me by the arm and pulled me to the lift.

Once inside, I pressed ALL the buttons - and when it got to first floor, I mashed the ONE button, so that the doors kept on opening.

 

I did the same on 2nd floor, until Ashleigh grabbed me by the arms and pulled me away from the panel.

 

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I will say that in Photography - thanks to me - Shelly, Danny and Ashleigh all did NO work.

 

Shelly helped me tape the tarpaulin to the wall below the projector while Paul was setting up a tripod.

Danny was proper facinated by the heart. He was only too happy when I asked if he'd help me get it out of the bag, as I couldn't at the time - my hands were covered in blood.

 

One mint thing though - Amara wasn't in lesson, and Danni-slagface was too squeamish to stay in the room, so she went and hid in the art rooms next door.

Even Jonathan and those two emo slags seemed interested - those who I thought didn't have a high opinion of me. I still think they don't, but at least they weren't arseholes.

 

The first few photos, I'd just tipped blood over my shirt as I held up the heart or a meat cleaver I'd brought along.

Then of course, Shelly tipped the blood over my head - as much as she didn't want to.

(She later admitted to me that she'd felt so guilty about it, she'd gone and cried in the 4th floor toilets.)

 

Ashleigh wasn't as remorseful - she was manning the tripod, taking all the photos. I could see she was secretley enjoying watching me writhe.

 

GOLDEN SYRUP FUCKING HURTS WHEN IT GETS IN YOUR EYES.

 

That happened TWICE - it started dripping down my fringe and running into my eyes. We had to stop twice so I could wipe my eyes down with a baby wipe.

I don't really like the taste of it either, but yeah...

 

Tanya and her friend from Art came in.

They said the printer was broken - they take a chair - they both sit on it, directly behind the tripod and stare at me.

 

"We're coming in to watch."

"Am I honestly that interesting?"

"No, but the printer's broke and we're bored."

"That's nice."

 

Here be some photos:

 

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Rofl, then came the task of cleaning myself up.

It's a good thing that the toilets all have locks to the actual outside door.

 

Ashleigh rinsed out my shirt and my trousers while Shelly mopped my face down and rinsed off some of my hair.

I put on my clean clothes and wiped down my feet and my chest. My hair wasn't totally clean, so I'd thought ahead and brought a baseball cap to wear to the bus stop.

 

I trust them both enough. They've seen me practically naked before - and I them, so what be the problem?

 

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I nearly broke my back walking to the bus stop though.

The heart and the remaining blood was BEYOND heavy.

I had to carry it slung over one shoulder, but even then, it was breaking my back. I sort of alternated between shoulder and arm.

Very thankful when I got to the bus stop and I could put it down.

 

There was this ginger chav sat next to me in the shelter - he kept giving me dodgy looks. Probably because I smelt of golden syrup. Lmao. :)

 

The bus was proper late as well.

I killed time with Lisa and texting Adam.

They were all like: "LOL GINGER CHAV SNIFFING ME." and "OMG PROPER NEED A SHOWER MATE."

 

When I got back to nana's - she'd made me chicken dippers and spaghetti, but I'd proper lost my appetite earlier. I scraped some of the spaghetti, so she put the chicken in the fridge for me.

 

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I was so fucking thankful to get in the shower like.

My hair still felt a bit strange afterwards, but at least it wasn't sticky - and it hadn't gained a pink tinge from the food colouring like I'd expected.

 

I bought a Wii Points card yesterday - I bought two songs on World Tour (Gimme All Your Lovin' and In The Shadows), Streets Of Rage and Super Mario RPG on Virtual Console.

 

I keep missing ONE note on In The Shadows - on both Hard and Expert... Annoyed.

 

Gimme All Your Lovin' is a cover - HOW DARE THEY GIVE AWAY COVER SONGS AS DLC.

It's not an amazing cover either - it's by Wavegroup - and Line 6 do FAR better ZZ Top covers than them.

But I bought it becuase it's a mint song. I'm practically a lifetime ZZ Top fan. :)

 

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I spent the rest of my night playing Streets Of Rage.

I got to the 7th level - the stupid level with the lift, and I got killed.

GAH.

 

I'm going to play the 2-player mode with Shelly on Saturday. She loves this game too. :)