1131824801|enigma|Away from home|I am now somewhere in a stranger house. Stranger they treat me nice or the mother does. This is a message saying I will always be nostalgic. Perhaps she knows my history? Its weird. This keyboard is weird. The keys are somewhere else. I feel so ugly. I cant wait to go home to hide myself. She is into HP, Lotr, Paul van Loon (or the kids), spirituality and Nightwish. I am on water for I dont deserve anything else. I shall look around for movies and more music. Maybe play Nightwish a little too. Thanks.|||2||
1131569478|enigma|Awefulest to happen|Yesterday he sniffled in my drawes and found a letter which had certain things written on it. He found out I was contemplating suicide. I got a horrid void sensation. I suddenly froze in time and couldn't do anything than panic and grab the information back while he was about to let my mother read it behind closed doors. I [b][u]HATE[/u][/b] him with all my heart. I despised that prick and hoped he would someday get what he deserved best. To suffer AS MUCH as he made me suffer. How I wanted to kill him, I swear if I could get away with it I might've. I'm getting incredibly wrathful and vicious. I want to destroy that shit. I seriously want to. To make it worse: the asshole called 'dad' (I don't like titling him as 'my father'). I'm incredibly terrified but it's my fault, even he AGAIN evaded my privacy. He should be sued or being thrown in jail. Now I'm entitled a sicko who needed to go to the looney bin. I got humiliated terribly last night and couldn't sleep for thinking he may be there again to find out stuff about me. God, I fucking hate myself. I wished I could brainwash them to forget this so I could go peacefully. Now they will be watching me which increased my paranoias. I'm so screwed, fuck. This is so unfair. Life, for how long will you carry on betraying me? For how long will I carry on being in chains?<br /><br /><i>This is a dream, this is a dream, this is a dream...</i><br /><br /> *repeats till fade*|||2||
1131516109|enigma|Destruction|I fail in finding cutters to use on myself. If I bought razors I'd be having terrible obsessive thoughts dominating my mind, that's why I don't even want to go there. I am guilty for no reason which makes me ache for self-punishment. I want to to make myself pour. I want to feel the itchy pain when white turns red. I'm getting angrier towards me. Only when the blood starts dripping I must quit to avoid leaving traces, though they stayed already underneath my shirts and pants.<br /><br />I can't kill nor wound myself enough.|||2||
1131515675|enigma|I miss you|I miss you... I don't know how I got through these months without your presence with me. I can't quit weeping when I think or remember you. I wish you were here. I know I'd be well. But seeing you're not there, I'll never be fine.|||2||
1131387358|enigma|At last|How long have I been away? It's sad, really sad. I always call myself sad as I am. I have been all over the place since I stopped writing here. But I learn slowly. It took time for me to see that it's just a tiny detail which needed reparation. It's okay. Isn't it ironic? After exactly (or almost) a month, I am back. I will try to find the muses now though I don't see myself capable of catching in with everything I missed. Still, I'm happy I'm here. It's my favorite place to be.|||2||
1128820982|enigma|Reclusing|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I'd like to take my words back in about everything I've said regarding my bond with L. I had one last conversation with him to reassure myself. I have seen that in fact, I am not feeling much for him. I think M.'s departure has made many things clear for me, like... he still has a deep meaning and is relevant despite his abscence, though he has always been special. I will be missing him for a very long time... untill I can close my eyes just as he did. I prefer being anonymous, behind my computer than ever showing up for us to meet. I'm not dead yet, nevertheless I was starting to give up, physically. It is making me desperate. Anyone who wants to stay alive, can't be lingering in a house that was leaking. Only I'm not anyone... Living has become a word. Like a pencil. Or things you'd loose but don't find a loss. <br /><br />I don't find talking necessary unless I have a question, needing of an answer. Therefor I will be breaking most bonds. <br /><br />G. sent me a letter... She asked what happened the past few months. Lots have happened. But she won't know. I am not planning to reply.<br /><br />Water dreams are dominating my sleep. I was walking somewhere in a town when a huge wave came out of nowhere. I ran to a building, and hid inside it and watched it passing by, like an enormous truck. I pulled an African woman inside who would die if she stayed outside, she was crying out of fear.<br /><br />I was lying on the bed when something like a tornado came. It threw the windows open and ripped them away. I felt it would take me with it and after a little thinking, hearing the dark, sad noises of the powerful wind blowing inside, I lied down on the ground to protect myself. Next time I won't do  that.|||2||
1128815572|enigma|For my beloved M.|Sunday was indeed gloomy for you.<br /><br /><img src="divmijn.jpg"><br /><br />Sunday is Gloomy,<br />My hours are slumberless,<br />Dearest, the shadows I live with are numberless<br />Little white flowers will never awaken you<br /><br />Not where the black coach of sorrow has taken you<br />Angels have no thought of ever returning you<br />Would they be angry if I thought of joining you<br />Gloomy Sunday<br /><br />Sunday is gloomy<br />with shadows I spend it all<br />My heart and I have decided to end it all<br />Soon there'll be flowers and prayers that are sad,<br />I know, let them not weep,<br />Let them know that I'm glad to go<br /><br />Death is no dream,<br />For in death I'm caressing you<br />With the last breath of my soul I'll be blessing you<br />Gloomy Sunday<br /><br />Dreaming<br />I was only dreaming<br />I wake and I find you<br />Asleep in the deep of<br />My heart<br />Dear<br /><br />Darling I hope that my dream never haunted you<br />My heart is telling you how much I wanted you<br />Gloomy Sunday<br /><br />|||2||
1128698611|enigma|Honesty isn't the best policy|Dearest diary,<br /><br />The air or the sky contains so many holes. I don't know everything and it's a shame. But if yesterday I didn't feel like being honest with people I care about, it would've saved me a lot. How can I know? I can never go back to the past and redo everything, it won't happen. I will have to live with the events that have happened and move on. But I won't move on, I don't wish to nor want to. The time has stopped ticking, at least I am not longing so much for anything except the darkness. The shadows, where no one is a burden or an obstacle. I feel very lonely today...<br /><br />On Monday a few days ago, my world fell apart when I was here, fixing a few entries. I deleted a lot on this site, wanting to focus more on my journals and I won't be in the mood to update any other urls. As I was typing on the ground, in my brother's bedroom hitting key after key very slowly for not being used to the laptop, I heard the phone ringing. It was my mobile. I thought perhaps it was my dad or the brother that lives abroad. I continued my typing routine, very dedicated, determinate to finish soon while I heard my brother's voice answering. I thought too that he was possibly playing with my mobile, he does so. He uses his phone to ring me up and when I go get it, he hangs up. I didn't pay much attention and fell more away in what I were doing at that moment. Untill he entered the room, telling me the phone was for me. I started getting angry, 'why did he have to bother me with all this?'. He could go play with my mother instead. I was busy. I think the person, there was someone on the phone, heard me arguing. For a minute M. crossed my mind. I decided to take the mobile and heard the possible voice on the other side. <br /><br />I won't forget how I was shaking, sad I have been feeling way before. I cried a lot moons ago and haven't coped. I think I came over as apathetic, I didn't cry or got worked up when answering the questions this Dutch masculine voice asked me, which had a similiar tone as M.'s. It's very likely he's related or M.'s dad or a friend. I didn't manage to ask these questions. I felt blown away. All I could say was yes... and 'why?'. He said that he had been in M.'s account also, thus he may know the sort of 'relationship' I had with M. I wasn't angry though or ashamed. I know he didn't read all his emails I sent to him or else I would've gotten a notification that one of them was viewed. However, he somehow found out that I knew M. very well. I wonder if he had also read the messages I exchanged with M. from asm?<br /><br />The voice kept summing a row of events that had occured, starting on the 31st of July. Like a train riding down over me, except I didn't feel much. After have noted a phone number which he said was of M.'s parents, and hung up, it all began to sink in. I was lost. And very lonely. Not long after I was crying like... forever.<br /><br />Sometimes I think M.'s just kidding me but he hardly ever made such horrible jokes with me. Now today, as I glare back on everything that happened, I think it's my fault partially for being a too considerate person. I'm never selfish, thus I never get to keep anyone close, not even for a little while. I'm just extremely angry while I do understand him, perfectly. I do. But he always told me, he'd warn me before he'd give himself into dark waters. There was a time he did... only this time not.<br /><br />I don't remember much of the conversation, it left me in ashtonishment despite me not being that surprised. We both have had such feelings, that's what brought us together in the beginning. I'm sad he had to go through this alone. And never shall I know <i>why</i> he chose to do it all on his own. He may have left this Earthly sphere (I'm very happy for you, you should know..) but the next day I got messages from him, even they arrived blank. How can I explain that? I don't think they arrived late as we've never had that problem before. It's definitely a coincidence.<br /><br />I miss him very much and all I can think of is joining him. It hurts to think that we'll never meet, that he won't ring me up or wake me up in the morning with his sweet messages. It hurts me that we won't see each other ever again. I wonder why my mother hadn't said that the blouse I bought for our meeting was a bad sign. She's often pessismistic and everything is wrong to her accord. She would've commented something as 'who's funeral are you going to?'. So, now I will likely wear it to the cemetary where he is resting. If I heard it well, they told me they had his mobile with them which means he is here. I'm excited that I can visit him, that he's here, only saddened that I won't be able to speak with him. He won't wake up and cuddle me or pronounce my name again. At least I can put flowers for him and greet him... Even I'm scared of such places, so Z. offered to accompany me which is nice of her, otherwise I wouldn't go. I still doubt whether or not I'll go. The chance is there that I won't.<br /><br />I feel he didn't care for me and everything he said was a lie. I do know and feel what he did that day was completely impulsive as he was sick. What other factors determine his choice to be dead, I won't really know. I do know that I feel I didn't have a bit of meaning at all to him. Perhaps he just wanted someone to talk to and wanted to be nice with me for a change. I can't tell. In spite of my mixed feelings, I still cared a <i>lot</i> about him and wished he could be brought back. I have been trying to dream about him without success. Maybe he's far away...<br /><br />I traced the address that matched the phone number of his parents and wrote them a letter yesterday morning. It took me two hours to rewrite everything neatly. I could've called them but a letter is more personal and they can save it... for whenever.<br /><br />Nothing matters now. Nothing does. I either cry every now and then as he comes across my thoughts or I try to calm myself down, slicing myself up which got me into an argue with my mother because I leaked some blooddrops on her blankett. I couldn't make any good excuses because it was done just recently. Hopefully I'll see him back someday... *bites sadness away* Till then life will continue being a torture to me, I was not longer here... Just my body. My mind was floating elsewhere. Or it died with the news of M.'s silent departure.|||2||
1128560559|enigma|Adres Martin familie|Brugge, J vd Zoek met Google   <br /> <br /> Loriestraat 102 <br />8265WC Kampen [kaart] <br />Tel:  038 3313387 |||||
1128390029|enigma|---|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Life is such a bore. I am only waiting everyday... I have nothing to do which is driving me crazy. This is some sort of news. Last Saturday a 30 year old man threw his 35 years old wife and 8 years old son from the fifth floor and joined them not much later into death by jumping himself. They were at a friends home when this happens. The man died immediately but his family passed away in the hospital. So jumping from the fifth floor <i>can</i> kill you. Why am I not jumping to have this all over? This complete annoyance I have to go through every single new day. I am tired of adding 'again' to each sentences. I was falling into complete repetition. Everything was a copy of the previous day. I want to scream right now. I'm <b>t i r e d</b> of this. Beyond tired. I feel so... this is so complicated..<br /><br />There were many family drama's in this country this year. Usually these crimes were commited because the man wanted to get rid of his family for having a new lover or it was the wife who had a new lover and the husband was jealous and drove them all into the abyss. It's sad. Everything is so sad. Life is sad. Life has no meaning. If I could be on top right now with this wide smile on my bloody face, I'd smack whoever who offered me this, down. How could I change and be normal so... out of the blue? This crazy life I have been used to will never be erased, ever from my memory. I feel lifeless...<br /><br />I sit glued at the tv for there's nothing I can do. I don't bother. I watch women fighting, crying for the Miss America title and all I could think about was cutting myself up like the Scarred Princess out of the 13 ghosts movie. I wanted to be scarred all over and bleed, that was <i>so</i> much prettier than these smooth vanilla skin and tight stomach, attracting dirty, filthy minded. I wished I could live out my morbid dark thoughts on myself. I can't because I don't want to. I don't have energy... and all the effort it took to clean the puddle of blood and eventually taking care of each single wound was too much for me. My mom would find out if I wore my clothes as they got bloody because I don't wash them. I never do anything. I'm mentally fat from passiveness. From not doing anything.<br /><br />I crave death so dearly that it made me cry. Why am I not dead yet? Why can't I just get rid of myself right now? Of this sorry pathetic ass..? I'm so angry with everyone, but more with myself. It's unacceptable that my parents decided fo fuck each other and having my mother getting pregnant of me. Was three sons not enough? Why did she have to have another one? When I tell my mom that, she says I'm having a big mouth. Was it bad? It's her fault. <br /><br />Fine. I was here, right? You came here without asking and then they also asked you to work for your life to live, <i>against</i> your will. Life is such a cunt. I hate everybody. I don't know... and mainly I hate myself for being human like anyone else. I want to shake everyone awake from that stupid dream they saw as life. This all was a dream. It has to be. Life was so shamelessly treacherous. It betrayed you infront of your eyes. It slapped you with a tool hard in the face and broke your nose and made you bleed as your face throbbed, while it laughed at you hard in the face. Life was a fucking sadist who needs its balls to be cut off. How I wished I had that pleasure to do so. <br /><br />I sadly can't take this anymore. This year doesn't seem to want to end so fastly either. I hope to die... and I shan't regret killing myself not one second. Like D. said to me, it counted for me too: there was nothing keeping me here. The road that I was about to break into two, had only pain, sorrow, hatred, envy, anger awaiting me.<br /><br />I hate rap music, I do. But when I'm sad I feel better imagining that the gunshots I'm hearing are reaching my body in reality. I feel soothed in whoever preaching its anger. When I'm sad, only angry, dark music makes me feel better. Then it didn't matter who sang what or anything.|||2||
1128363147|enigma|Better|Dearest diary,<br /><br />After more than a week, my headaches have moderated. Let me stay like this. Hopefully I'll be fine really soon. These days have been tough with a heavy, throbbing skull or brains. <br /><br />Should icecream cars drive late at night, at 9pm when all children are in bed to sleep to wake up early on Monday to go to school, trying to sell icecream? We ate icecream and I have no idea how B. stopped the guy. It was cold and I was freezing a little bit more.<br /><br />I stayed up a bit late till 2am downloading a few depressive songs. I like Leni.|||2||
1128308997|enigma|B.'s room|I am down on the floor, writing this in B.'s room while my mom is working out. Reminds me of these annoying exercises they show you in the morning on tv. I always switch channel. I was plaiting my hair or combing it till B. announced he'd be showering so I ran to the laptop to write. Ever since he has this thing I haven't been able to write or log into cutenews succesfully. Probably typing the wrong password. Stupid me. He has this stupid cd playing, 50 cent. He played a few reggae tracks earlier that were more bearable than this album. I am letting the stupid words of 50 cent run down over me so I can write. I dont want him mad right now. <br />My tummy is getting numb the way I'm lying. I need to sit up straight.<br /><br />This weekend we lived on French fries which I went buying also a few hours ago. I got there at the snackbar and faced the humilation that it was closed. I felt a bit embarrassed and went closer to see on the window when they would open. 4pm. I doubted. <i>What time was it?</i> I angered because I didn't wear a watch for months now as it broke and nor did I carry my mobile with me as no one called me anymore. I thought about waiting awhile then, untill it would open and turned to walk away to find a place to sit, when I heard a voice calling me. I am a lucky devil. He decided to open earlier because of the nice weather (it didnt last long, it rained later). Or else I wouldve waited an hour. I was nervous for being the first customer. He is a sweet guy I always title as u. He was trying to have a conversation with me and I tried to be open but I really cant talk. He said there was this thing out there in town, a sort of activity which attracted many people. It made sense. When I left the house I felt a silence like everyone disappeared from this neighbourhood or the stilness you hear after a how town was slaughtered. Aside of a car passing by, there wasnt any other noise. All I could reply was; 'really?'. He made me nervous. I suck at talking to nice guys.<br /><br />I got home and closed the portal door of this building when a guy or a man, yes... hes a man, came in with a bike. In other circumstances I wouldve opened the door for anyone who had stuff with them and had to seek their keys in the bottom of their bag or sack. I didnt. I dont know why I didnt. Perhaps because I didnt know this guy or man shared this building with us. I greeted him and felt a heat rising at the top of my head. The elevator door went open and he let me enter first. I felt so paranoid having someone so close to me in this small space (being claustrophobic here?). I kept glaring at the display to see when we would arrive at his ground. He lived on the third ground, I lived upstairs on the fourth. He was a new face, I hadnt seen him before. He told me too about the activity they had in town and wondered if I was going, I replied I dont do these things. I didnt mean to let that sound rude! Did it? When he got to his destination, we said goodbye. He wished me a nice day and I continued ascending and heard myself saying... hes hot. Yes, Im nuts and I dont say such stuff in general. If I like someone a lot, I say hes beautiful. Maybe I was attracted to him physically. If I wasnt so polite, I wouldve taken a bit advantage of the fact we were alone, to ask him what his name was or if he was married. Or.. if there was some space in his bed. I dont mean that. Just exaggerating, am I.. I am.. not. I liked his long locks dancing on his back with grey highlights that showed me he was maybe in his thirties or fourties. Still I liked him... I hope we see each other again. (We did, only I was not longer interested: updated 7th October 2005)<br /><br />Ah, when he left I realised he was shorter than me! If he was tall, I wouldve felt intimidated. How weird that I didnt notice that he was small in the elevator.<br /><br />I live in this building for six years and I didnt know everyone who lived here. In total I didnt know all the 35 owners of the appartments in this building. Thats sad.|||2||
1128285422|enigma|Stealing someone's thought... I can't help it|Firstly, I didn't write this. I just think this person pictured my thoughts and feelings so well. I'm bad at this. So now I'm stealing their words in secret to not forget certain layers of myself.<br /><br /><img src="divmijn.jpg"><br /><br />Everyday I feel fatigued, Im in pain from this wound, I have painfull hips and back due to Arthritus that was no doubt brought on by the large doses of steriods I have taken over the years to combat my ilness.<br /><br />What is this all about? I know many people live lives full of pain like me with no cure, all we face is daily routines of pain and repetitive nonsense? hmmmmm....<br /><br />The news on tv is filled with BAD news isnt it? murders, rapes, natural disasters, is anyone happy these days ? *realy* even people who are well im sure must question the real purpose in life? what is our purpose ? we seem to be simply folowing routines all of us , just different ones to each other, but never the less it is routines.<br /><br />What is the reason for this life? what is it for? some say the world will end soon , I can only hope this is true, it seems the world right now is driven by material gain, greed, and other simular shallow desires? can this realy be our true purpose? to fill our lives with more and more material items , does this makes us happy *realy* ? or are we being brainwashed to follow a path that is so far out of touch with something *real* its not even funny?<br /><br /><br />Todays society is becoming more and more *everyone for themselfs* people realy dont care about others anymore do they? you hear things about people being beat to death, or stabbed tp death INFRONT of people who refused to help or simply walked by pretending nothing was happening? this is another sign of the world today.<br /><br /><br />Are you happy? you reading this? if you are tell me WHY as I see no reason to be happy? I see people fooling themselfs, and following like sheep into the oblivion of materialism and shallowness, what happened to *real things*<br /><br />I see no purpose to this Life, I see a mindless routine that holds no real value or real meaning, with no real end result apart from death? what was it all for?|||2||
1128279957|enigma|Freak|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I'm laughing because I know I'm a freak. A big one. So, last night I made myself smell like him. *feels warm* Well, it's just soap, right? I am not the only one who buys these things and uses them. Well? I went to bed early as I wasn't feeling well and moaned the whole night as if it would make my headaches less painful. My bones were getting stiff thanks to the cold, that's why I took the initiative to shower to warm myself up. When I did, I was having another trouble which was my skin drying out (sort of). It got stiff just as my bones felt like. I think I was in bed around 9pm already. <br /><br />Since yesterday I wanted to open the dusted bag with Al.'s letters stored and reread them again. But why? Well, at this stage, of course everything was going through my head. Everything I dealt with till today. Memories. I was digging out all memories I've ever had. I was having something as a flashback, daily. Something says no ('don't you read these words'), as it may wake up certain things... feelings maybe and then I'd probably be longing to run into her arms again as I used to do, before I finally realised that it had become a sort of a 'game', almost. She accused me for being a liar, I admit now. I am. It protected me. So was she. She was a severer liar than I was, as I wouldn't lie about... Never mind. Looking back I do understand her and see she's had a... I bet she's... <i>Never mind</i>.<br /><br />J. sent me an email. She was one of the millions penpals I had. She resides in Russia at the moment and emailed all her friends with the note she had calling cards to ring any of us up who wanted to have a chat with her. I sort of wanted to reply back and ask her to call me, just to see how she sounds like. I've never heard her voice and I bet it'll be hard to understand her too. I always had difficulty (sometimes) to understand people with an accent. She's Canadian and went to Russia for an exchange project, I have no idea. We stopped writing since last year. Again, my fault. In contrary with me, she's rather pretty with her long soft curly dark locks. I was a very plain girl. I think anyone would doubt what gender I was at first sight due my simplicity. Or they'd have to hear my voice to be sure which was plain too :-s I thought I had a dark or low voice, almost sleepy or dreamy. *shakes head*<br /><br /><blockquote>hey everyone!! Hope everyone is good! I am just emailing to let you guys know i can call you if you want... i got a couple calling cards... with like... 6 or 700 minutes each! so i got lots of time to talk so if you want me to call just email me what time is good.. im available any time on your sunday or monday (my weekend)... your mornings and afternoons and... yeah ... but tell me whats good for you and well negotiate.. oh anf that was russian time i was talkin bout just so you know (doesnt apply to Luk or enigma)... so yeah hope to hear from you all! hope all is good! talk soon!! POKA!!<br /></blockquote>|||2||
1128210961|enigma|Someone I can't stand|So, on each forum I visit there is very likely one of them I find a big bitch or an asshole. Usually that happens on forums that are very 'goth', 'down-to-earth' and now this has happened on a 'wicca' forum. New agers seem to be 'friendlier'. At least, I haven't met any I got to dislike, only one was weird when she told me about my past life, assuming my avatar was me but it was a singer. The free past life remembrance I got came close to movies such as the crucible and the consequences. It was gross of her to say. Fortunetellers in general do never tell anyone bad things they see/feel bluntly, like 'tomorrow you'll die' and more precisely, 'someone will slice your head off'. That's sick. They know it's not appropriate. You'd find them saying something as 'don't visit anyone tomorrow, stay home, play the guitar, it may save your life' instead. Be careful with words. These simple things can cause disasters. She was weird as she was saying it rather excitedly.<br /><br />So, I often go there to this famous wicca forum... It's the place too where L. contacted me from. I will be more specific. Seeing as many 'wiccans' focus on many topics as runes, paranormal gifts, tarots etc.. I think she (this witch I don't like, claims to be gifted) could feel some bad vibes from me (if I had them). I should. Or she knows how much I despise her. I think she does. Hell, she <b>does</b>. I will put you a few incidents that happened there.<br /><br />Firstly, I was told to fill in an interview 'so newbies could find out more about the old members'. I didn't have anything to do.. Anything that can keep me from boring myself or hurting myself or thinking bad about myself is good. So, I filled it in. I looked into that interview board and she asks questions to everyone whose interview got placed there. Isn't it weird that she didn't see mine? Or <i>didn't</i> want to see mine? Not that I'm an attention seeking fuck. I am simply pointing out that it's weird how I am the only one in that board without a reply from her. I do feel left out and it doesn't matter. I should feel honoured. And I am (lying to yourself is always so good). Somehow I'm dark. My mom has made me believe that too. I' <i>know</i> I'm not always as sweet as I sound.<br /><br />It shows...<br /><br />I have replied to very 'sensitive' subjects such as organ donation and suicide over there which resulted into heavy discussions since people want to convince each other ('Is letting a child die without getting a heart transplant tolerable, is it good to let it suffer?', they tried to play in on my emotions or 'Is it correct to leave families with tonnes of bills when one commits suicide?', they tried forcing guilt upon my conscious and so forth). Of course she's very against it. She calls it extremely selfish (refering to suicide). I have a bit of deja vu that tells me I gave certain comments she's didn't like too well. At least, <i>I</i> know we definitely <b><u>do not</u></b> share the same view. Who knows, maybe she has read my soul and knew what I was planning. I know these people could do that. Some could look into my eyes and tell me I wasn't 'okay'. Well, eyes don't lie, do they?<br /><br />It shows...<br /><br />I think she knew I was planning to delete all my posts (at least certain ones) so when I had written a message wondering why it says you can remove posts while that wasn't that case in all boards, she disabled the whole function completely. Grr. <b>I hate her</b>. I <i>know</i> I don't like her. She replied: 'You can't remove your posts' (while it <b>used to be</b> the case) like it was old news, making me out for some moron who didn't know what FAQ means, to read the thread where it says so. An ignorant member responded: 'Oh, then I must've missed something'. What angers me the most is the way she wrote it, with two annoying dancing icons as if she was making fun of me. Don't tell me I'm seeing things that aren't there like my mother. I know better.<br /><br />What can I do with my fingers? Nothing, can I?|||2||
1128207494|enigma|Hit|I'm not going to post her entire email.. but I will quote a part which stroke me very hard. Like when someone hits you with a hammer. Or as she would quote Tori: 'Bobby's collecting bees. Hand hammers, he used one on me'.<br /><br />She used one on me. Good, I'm saddened she's in such bad shapes. I am... Let's forget it and see passed this as Al. would say, a failing attempt trying to convert me or change me. I'd be emotional over anything anyway. Another thing which shows why staying in touch with someone was wrong (for me). Her words had sharp sides and I experienced it as hurtful. And again and again and again. If I live 40 more years, I'd have to endure this day in and out. Words. Words. Always words. I hate words. Fuck words.<br /><br />I have no idea what she means as I could not read with my emotions getting in the way. So far I understood it, it was not nice. (I am refering to the bold part).<br /><br /><blockquote>I love to hear from you it makes my day but as i see i know we arent quite in perfect conditions to continue with our corresposndence <b>the hand letters is part of an old art gettting extinct</b> -T.</blockquote><br /><br />I can't control the way I feel and afterwards it all seems so trivial. But it stays a fact I felt wounded. And maybe I misunderstood her, still her words did not call out the best feelings.|||2||
1128205958|enigma|I can't talk|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Everytime I come here I don't have anything to say while I do. I always do. Guess I couldn't talk openly about everything as I thought in the beginning. I consider myself better in the written word when there aren't any readers (someone would find this place sooner or later, privacy I don't really have) than the spoken word. Facial expressions distract me of the voice in my head, to dictate what it is saying. I'm not spontaneous even I come out as one. It was all said and done in my head firstly, before you heard me saying it. What bothers me the most is the way I talk. Sometimes I think I have a brain defect too for being unable to get the right words or as I said, 'to repeat the voice that spoke inside' so others would understand me. I had a lot to say but when I spoke, I had to face the horror of a few lousy, not well formulated sentences coming out which didn't capture most of what I was planning or had to say. It made me appear as someone stupid or uneducated. I simply can't formulate words well when I talk to someone. It worsened when I was nervous. I can't talk... and the idea I'm writing on the net is also stealing my writing skills. Alive I've lost a lot for my unability to express myself verbally. It cost me a lot of money too as I don't or can't defend myself. I'm a retarted coward. Sad. <br /><br />T. mailed me back. I wonder what she's saying. I emailed her yesterday on B.'s laptop. It was an impulsive deed. I was asking her a favor. Now a day has passed, I see there's no need to. I'll just write back and say that.<br /><br />Ever since he told me he washes his gorgeous hair with zwitsal *smiles* I couldn't help remembering it to either enter the stores and smell any zwitsal products or to buy one. I bought a showergel today because I had time. B. had sent me out to get him some fries. I used a bit of his money to buy it. I'm a stealer and not ashamed of it. He does the same with me. We're even steven. It smells nice, sort of soapy but soft. I was giggling the whole way home. If he knew, he'd surely think I was obsessed (I am) and a sort of a stalker (I'm not). How would I feel if someone I didn't like.. or didn't know got obsessed with me and bought everything or anything to be able to feel me...? I'd be very flattered and honoured. If he ever reads this... Well,... I don't know. I'm having some paranoia attacks here. He wouldn't be so happy, I think. Or he may be.. but would wave it away with one hand and forget it as I'm nowhere close to special.<br /><br />The more I spend my time online the angrier I get. There are so many people who have a journal... So I read them, whatever I find. I'm so much in a conflict, you have no idea. Others make me... basically hate myself tonnes of times more. And then, I had this perfect diary in my head... and all that doesn't matches it, is bad. I need to get over this as I'm no God.  And if there was a God, he would still not tell anyone what to do. I know what this was. It wasn't hatred 'because you're doing something wrong', it was envy. I secretly wish I was talented with anything (but I am not) and could stay in touch with people (naturally). Instead I run anyway, that's really funny. I think I don't like commitments. I can't have anyone relying on me... it pressures me. Like these hamsters I used to have. You hold them in your hands or tightly, they keep moving around, trying their utmost best to escape the grip. I was exactly the same. The reality is always going to be... 'I'm not them nor will I ever be'. I'm growing older, I won't ever be a child again or a teen. I either make things comfortable for me in my own unique way or everything continues as they were before with me depressed.<br /><br />M. was gone for two months now. Death or alive, he wasn't here. I'm trying to cut his name from my tongue but I was always saying his name unnoticed. I miss him... With him things would've been less lonely, dark. I'd be in company. I can't forgive myself as I believe I was just lied to. It all sounded very honest... and he kept telling me he wouldn't do it alone and worse, I swallowed his words like this sweet candy. He made a promise. He made me promises. Promises don't mean anything. In both ways I will keep blaming myself, for being naive and for letting him travel instead of visiting me right away. That's what happens when you want to play the good samaritan. Now he was gone. Disappeared. His phone continued to be dead. Both of them. I may not have credits, I know if I had to phone, nothing would answer at the other side, just some random voice telling me that the number was currently unavailable. It started with ray of light and together everything died in Hung Up. I mean it. I used to be a Madonna fan, now she's not. Her upcoming single was not only remembering of the way I got 'dumped', it was extremely annoying. I don't like dance songs with <b>no</b> meaning (she said so) despite the meaning I gave to it. Everything was changing. It's good that my bag was emptying itself by itself. In no way would I feel I lost something or went away, leaving something behind.|||2||
1128192560|enigma|Doctor|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I am officially not on the same line as my doctor. He checked my blood pressure and it was normal to my mum's relief. It would've explained my horrible headaches. All he could say was that I'm very tensed and that was probably causing all these physical issues. Everytime I went there he kept repeating himself: 'we're going to make changes', 'we're going to make you better' (why am I not getting or feeling any bits better?). Instead of shoving me with so much junk, he could shoot my brains out instead. It would be easy and fast. Using all these medication for a long period would turn me into an addict and it did. At the drugstore they told me I was having withdrawal symptoms. Unbelievable. What made me more angry is that he gave me more medication that would give me withdrawal symptons if I stopped using them. No, of course he can't warn me. He said: 'Take them in, if you feel they are helping, you don't need to come. Just call to order new ones. If they don't help, do come back again'. Idiot. He doesn't tell me how long I need to use them or what the effect will be, how I will feel. Grrr. So far I had: oxazepam, chlordiazepoxide, citalopram, effexor and now he gave me diazepam which was the same. It would give me withdrawal symptons if I stopped out of a sudden. The lady at the drugstore said I would have to slow down the dose instead of quiting abruptly. This doctor is so random, why doesn't he tell me these things? The way he shook hands with me, he was like pushing my hand in the direction of the door. It was clear, he wanted me out. *steams of rage* But well, diazepam may be handy someday... <br /><br />I sleep so aweful. I expect this to last for a few more weeks, untill I get completely better. I wore uniforms (a skirt and shirt) at school (in a dream), and stood up suddenly to go and write a question on the black board with some chalk. I was starting to write something like.. 'Why so many efforts if we'll die and won't remember life?' I couldn't finish the sentence because a teacher I disliked in real life, came and took me to do some exams. I think he used to think I was crazy. This year I saw him in the shopping centre. It was not crowded and I'm sure he had seen me but he ignored me harshly, glaring into a store. His wife also taught me. They're both the same. They only know you at school. Outside school you're just a stranger. Or they were to me.<br /><br />B. has a new laptop now. I like it, at the same time I don't. Now we'll be fighting over the modem. It only has one entrance... and next week he has a whole week off. That means a lot of arguing, I'm sure.<br /><br />I'm sort of starting to accept the life I lead. I can't change it so quickly... My fear for the outside world would have me clinged to my bedroom walls for a long while. Medication will steal a part of my sanity. It may hide it and I would forget that side of me. In other words, I won't be normal than a car without gasoline. Only <i>with</i> gasoline it's rideable. I don't nor will use any medicine aside ibuprofen.<br /><br />Lately I'm so.. irritated. I can't really cut myself either. I'm withdrawing from everything and those who have something to say or complain about my attitude gets scolds. I am rather sad and hungry. I'm gaining weight for eating again. It doesn't matter. I'm going to get myself some slices of bread and browse the net awhile. I must know almost the whole internet for doing that, excluding the xxx-pages. That's how life becomes when you've seen it all. When there's nothing interesting anymore. It becomes simple and dull.|||2||
1128132168|enigma|Baker Baker|Baker Baker baking a cake<br />make me a day<br />make me whole again<br />and I wonder what's in a day<br />what's in your cake this time<br /><br />I guess you heard he's gone to L.A. <br />he says that behind my eyes I'm hiding<br />and he tells me I pushed him away<br />that my heart's been hard to find<br /><br />here <br />there must be something here<br />there must be something here<br />here<br /><br />Baker Baker can you explain<br />if truly his heart was made of icing<br />and I wonder how mine would taste<br />maybe we could change his mind<br /><br />I know you're late for your next parade<br />you came to make sure that I'm not running<br />well I ran from him in all kinds of ways<br />guess it was her turn this time<br /><br />time<br />thought I'd make friends with time<br />thought we'd be flying<br />maybe not this time<br /><br />Baker Baker baking a cake<br />make me a day<br />make me whole again<br />and I wonder if he's ok<br />if you see him say <a href="http://www.yessaid.com/talk/5bakerbaker.html" target="_TOP">hi</a>|||2||
1128090736|enigma|Out today|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Another arguement with my mother. I can't get along with them. Long story. One thing was sure, my migraines were making me more aggresive than I were.|||2||
1128048634|enigma|Migraines|Dearest diary,<br /><br />These days are bad. I go under the tension of my migraines that don't seem to want to go away. I've had them for almost a week straight now, 24 hours a day. Perhaps I'm going to get ill, I thought, seeing as I have sore muscles as well. I get that when I'm going to get the flu. I'm like... 'come right now, so I can have this behind me', and be normal again. Or it could be that these are withdrawal symptoms. I stopped taking in all my medications a few days ago. I truely have never really had this horrible headaches before. I can't listen to music, or anything loud, as they make it worse. It's sad... I miss music. Music blocks out my reality which is garbage. So instead I have to personally tell my relatives now and then to shut up. I don't want or like listening to them. Nothing good comes out of their mouth, it's just noise. I hope I will feel better next week. I also have trouble sleeping. Yeah, these aren't my days. I'm so so stressed and tensed.<br /><br />I said goodbye to my previous host and I feel so much better. I started feeling pressured to write and to update my blog so I decided it would be better to get rid of the whole thing. I'm fine now. It only made my hostess doubt whether or not she does well into getting her new domain. Weird, isn't it? In the beginning I used to mail her on my subdomain etc. Later she never replied on my personal mails. Not even one. She hates it that her hostees don't comment on her blog while she's no hair better. She's distant herself. Anyway, I don't have anything to say anymore. This is another closed period. It's the past now. It's over.<br /><br />My father called today. He usually does when my mother smses him and tells him to. Again I found myself in an unpleasant situation where my sweet brother (he so much is) passed me the phone to talk to him. I thoroughly refused and tried hiding myself in the toilet (the only place in this house with a locker). At the end, it appeared he was just joking. That fuck. It's not like I have anything against him, I just don't have anything to talk about with him. It took me a long time to see this but I think he's no where close to the man he used to be ten years ago when I was a young girl. Not that I'm old now. I'm definitely not old though it felt as if I was around my 60's. I had so much physical difficulties. Constantly. It made life a bigger burden for me. I can not help than only feel pity for my father. He's a joke. Just like my brothers, I'd say.<br /><br />Ms. B. (my psych) also called me today. She's so cooly. I felt the same like hearing these answering machines. At least they are animated. In contrary, she was rather... cold. I have a new appointment with her over two weeks. It's a long wait. I had to see her tomorrow but I already have an appointment to go to with my mother (social worker). I'm so spiritless that I have not been able to wash my hair. I keep postponing it saying: tomorrow I'd do it, or in the weekend and then the weekends come and I thought next week would be fine. Till a month flew away. I don't even want to wake up early tomorrow, so I guess I should sleep early today. I guess that's the solution. I'll wear a hat to hide my filthy hair. Bodies ask so much from you, don't they? Like Esther I wished you could just wash yourself once, and be able to live like that forever. Without getting dirty. Was that possible. I have no energy but a lot of duties. Next week I was supposed to bring L. a visit. Only I haven't heard of him and I don't bother either to seek contact. He did tell me he was going to pick someone up (a couple) and he'd be back. He suggested me to pick me up when he was here (in the future). So, right now he was here. Except he didn't tell me he could come for me, even I would've said no as I'm sick. I should stop talking about him... It's hard, as you see.. I was in love with him like a freak. Like a stupid idiot. I even made myself believe I loved him... Anyway, I actually don't want to talk nor see anyone. My fantasies are fine. It's enough food to keep me alive.<br /><br />I dreamt with a baby last night. It was gorgeous. I think the programm I saw before I went to sleep, provoked such dreams. It was a programm about babies that got born earlier than they were supposed to. This one was rather smart. It could not talk but it made very small signs with its arms and really tiny fingers. Maybe I like babies because they remember me of the dolls I used to play with. I still go crazy when I enter a toy store and see these racks filled with them. Only babies smell nicer. They smell like milk, so fresh. Only this place wasn't meant for them to be.<br /><br />Ironic. Now that I was planning to go, my brother considered returning me my room. <i>Now</i> that I don't want it back, he is giving it back to me. The room had its DNA all over the place and not to forget those of his many girlfriends too. My room would be forever a storage space of their memories. I bet too that the muses have left my room. In any way, things won't be like they used to be.|||2||
1127841965|enigma|My confession|... that I secretly enjoy my own misery and all the darkness that I see. I think I try to justify it with self-injury and... <br /><br />I was told that I could be in denial. Perhaps I was. I only didn't want to admit so. I don't know who I am, at all. Or I don't want to know.|||2||
1127840685|enigma|link|http://www.thedeadletter.com/read.html?305761051866676|||||
1127837916|enigma|Seven|Dearest diary,<br /><br />In the weekend I watched Seven, what prevented me to sleep that night. I could see the scenes, the dead faces and I could hear the dialogues as if the movie was being replayed close to my ears. Kevin Spacey was nice in American Beauty but now I had difficulty to understand this villian he was. A very sick, sadistic murderer. One thing that I will always be, is a sort of a tree. Blown too hard by the wind, I will bend. You may not be right but if you pretend and play me, you will have me believe you. As I'm naive. Or simply: I really don't know what's moral, immoral, good or wrong. Many things John Doe was saying at the end where they were riding through the fields with these two inspectors, made me doubt myself. His hatred for fat people who take his apetite away. Also his disgust towards prostitutes who he murdered cruelly. <i>What if he's right?</i> I thought. Then I'm also a sinner... There were plenty of wrong things that were seen as good in this society, so I can't entirely blame myself for my ignorance. Even what I should give in to at the end, are my own feelings. It should be this way. At the end, it's my life. I shouldn't listen to others. Perhaps that's why it took so much of me to keep a 'friendship' or to communicate with someone not close. I started doubting myself. Someone I knew well could be assured they have my honesty. About myself. Well, not all the time. But they knew who I was. There are things I am silent about but most of the time, I will be (honest). *thinks* I don't think I've ever been entirely sincere with anyone. I only felt less tension to keep my mouth shut or to speak my heart out.<br /><br />I don't like talking about extreme dark topics such as serial killers and rapists. Everytime my curiosity won over my fear, I would have to endure all the images of victims that stayed stuck on my eye when I went to bed after watching documentaries. Sometimes (or often) it even made me so sad that even we're living with tons of people on this planet, still lots of crimes were commited infront of our open eyes. Sometimes we didn't do anything, we just watched it and went on, ignoring it. It's not our business. Nothing is our business. <i>Why do I care so much?</i> I usually couldn't sleep without having this grief out first. I felt I carried the burdens of others and I only felt better when I saw it flow away out of me, out of my thoughts, out of my body. Just red. I've cried so much I don't know how to cry. And the tears dry, as if they were never there. While I want to see the price I've payed for watching all this. My scars are the vivid evidence that my past was and is real. It tells me the stories of many memories I've forgotten.<br /><br />Darkness lingers longer at my portal than any other thing does. Was it possible for a woman to rape a guy. As if. That won't ever be possible. She can only 'murder' or steal what could make her a threat. Or if she placed a finger on a minor. The man seemed to always be feared the most. Some say women were emotionally crueler than men. Maybe that's the only weapon a woman has. The fact she was emotional and could manipulate. While the man always had his ruthless power aside him. I may be one of the few who hasn't ever used her emotions to get what she wants. I don't think I've ever tried controlling someone this way, not even through lies. Or I'm too emotional for that (makes so much sense).<br /><br />Seven left its footprints and showed me why I should cure my curiosity. Also that you are unable to have a life if you're not apathetical. I'd do anything to become that. No matter what I do or the persons I hang around with, they can't seem to drag me along with the flow. Instead it worsens. The more I'm outside in the world, the hurt I become. From now I am trying to not mix. If someone ever crosses my path, I most likely will listen. Time will then decide whether or not I will stay in touch. I will not personally search for anything nor anyone. <br /><br />I am online daily, for at least an hour. My mum won't believe me when I say I'm not talking to anyone. When she hears me laugh (just things I read), she immediately thinks I'm talking to a guy. She becomes frustrated and is always menacing me to tell my father how I'm more online than talking to her, doing things with <i>her</i>. It's all about <i>her</i>. Hasn't she spent almost 6 decades here? She has seen more things than I ever will, why can't she give me a bit of freedom to do what I want to do, even it's for a short period? My mother is selfish and an egoist. Her strive for the perfect family makes me ill. Her need for us to eat together at the table, or to watch tv together or to go out together. Doing everything together. Even telling my secrets. I personally blame her that I'm always lying as I know she wouldn't cope with the truth. Instead of being happy someone was honest and confided in you, she just angers and makes me feel worse. Those days are history and I don't regret hiding behind tons of fake truths. We aren't a perfect family. If we were, it was fake. It was based on control and fear, we were young but now we're older. We can think. We can see. We have realised. I have realised that a perfect family doesn't exist for me. <br /><br />I got my final order. It took fours days to reach me. I didn't know my mother had them in possession. She took the opportunity to make me talk so I can get the packages. Well, I tried to lie without blinking so she'd believe me. Sometimes I think about someone hurting me (any of those disturbing things) so I will feel pain, instead of falling into laughter. I laugh a lot, even when I'm far from happy. It makes me come out like someone stupid or immature. I think it's an automatic response to cover the realness of the facts. Or I'm nuts, it could be too. It's the first time someone mails out something with my full name written on it, except the other time I wrote a letter addressed to myself. I live in my fantasy. I continued playing my own game, as if someone out there wrote me that letter, expressing their... 'absolute' admiration and adoration of me. I think it's been the most special letter since I had written it myself. Aside of this one (which is not real), Al.'s letters were special as well. Only when I am not counting mine, she would be the one whose letters I admired and loved reading. It shows: I can't throw them away even I stopped reading them after we broke up. I think it's been almost four months. Weird, I'd think it's longer since the last time we exchanged words with each other.<br /><br />I have returning dreams. Water that is. I was outside when a gigantic wave was heading towards us. My mum was standing, screaming, crying. I kissed her on the cheek and said goodbye as I ran away to die somewhere else, alone. There was water coming and no matter what I was about to do there, hide, run etc. it would get me and drown me. That same night I saw that same water with that one purpose again. I only can't remember all details.|||2||
1127794464|enigma|What a nice confession|<a href="http://grouphug.us/confessions/528934106">Hmm...</a> *coughs*<br /><br />but I so much despise <a href="http://grouphug.us/confessions/959255105">sadists</a> (no, I only like the confession I posted here on top). Men are <b>big</b> assholes. It makes me wish... it makes my dark mind start reacting... start wanting things... *smells revenge*|||2||
1127526482|enigma|Lonely|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I had the pc shutdown before I saw it would be better to blog since I will be only boring myself being in the bedroom till tomorrow. When I'm lying down, it's hard to get me out of the blanketts. I go totally mute. I usually don't talk or answer anything that is being asked or told. I don't respond though I sometimes have understood or heard you loud and clear. Other times it's just noise to my ears. Lots is noise to me now that I'm having so much physical issues. I feel <u><b>disturbed</b></u>. I wonder why I am not going to the doctor for them? Do you wonder as well? How can you? I'm being a bit sarcastic. Sure the doctor will find out what I have but then he'll be just prescribing me more medication. That's the thing he was good at, giving pills randomly, like he knew what you had before you even entering his office. I don't like my doctor... how nice he even was. He never listened to me. If I go there again, then it was to say that I want a complete checkout to know either I have cancer or any other mysterious illness which has and is making me feel incredibly miserable. I am. I feel horrible everyday and especially during my monthly's. It's not normal, is it? How can it be normal if you're monthly sick and I'm not saying just 'sick' as when I'd tell my gym teacher at school and he'd laugh me in the face, telling me I need to excercise more so all the pain complaint will be over. No. It's not like I haven't ever done anything to feel better in my skin. I have but without much progress. I was told the pill would help me feel better, I don't see much of it. Except that instead of a couple days of pain, it has moderated to one. Still a day consists of 24 hours and if I have to endure all these hours in pain, I'd want to kill myself. And I do. I want to die also because of all the uncomfortness I felt living in this body brought me. I felt no matter how many visits I brought to a doctor or my mum kept forcing me to drink her hand made wonder tea's or whatever she had me fixed, I was continuing feeling the same usual me. A very sick, tired girl. A girl simply tired of trying and failing into being a healthy normal girl. Or perhaps my mood disorders are causing some body parts to ache. I really don't know. If I had to be honest about the amount moments of happiness I've had, they wouldn't be much. Compressed in years, probably not even a complete year. I'm not counting memories I don't remember. What you don't remember is as if they have never existed. They are nothing. Just nothing. <br /><br />I hope death will put an end to my silent sufferings. No one knew I suffered. So there. If I was silent when lying down in bed, it was also because I was trying to control the pain. I tried hard my best to not let it dominate me and have me losing control. I'm happy when I manage to sleep, that way I couldn't pay attention to it. Only yesterday I couldn't close any of my two eyes. I can't really tell why. I stayed awake hours straight, rocking myself back and forth to ease the annoying throbbing sensation. Around 3 am -I can't tell with certainty- my eyes started becoming sleepy, bit by bit while it was getting time for me to wake up and go to my psychologist appointment. I don't sleep well. I really need my own space... that's all I can say. I'd do better than I do now. Even I'm not so sure of this either. <br /><br />Have I ever mentioned that talking to a psychologist is very boring? Oh my god, I felt bored today. I felt so indifferent. Everytime when I start dressing up, my mum does the same. She sees the chance when I'm planning to go out, for her also to come along with me to do whatever she needs to do. I can never be alone or do anything on my own. Which is bad. Now -today- I always admit to her since I'm used having her around me. If she's not there, I feel weird. Like I don't have hair on my head. Are you getting me? Thanks to her, I don't have a life. Thanks to her and my father, I am not able to function as a normal girl of my age should. I am complete trash and way behind than most girls. There were countless of things I had to know at this age and I simply didn't know or I was afraid to do. And hey, I'm not getting any smaller you know. I am growing older. Later I'd be like a big kid, instead of a young, independant adult. Or I was but I wasn't. I was considered one but you can't say if you tried looking for such qualities in me, you wouldn't find any.<br /><br />Before my arrival at my psych, Ms. B., we were held up by an accident that had occured. The whole street where the bus had to drive in, was filled with curious neighbours glaring at an ambulance and all the noise that comes with it. I think there was fire or something. I don't know what happened but it did scare me. Can you imagine me being taken out dead out of an appartment, while those exact same curious eyes were trying to have a quick shot of what happened, of my entire life maybe..., trying to gain the answer on the question: 'what idiot would try to poison herself and also ruin other people's carreer with it?'. Maybe a few would recognize the rests of what was once a personality. A person. Someone. A girl. A young girl. A young foreign girl. A young colored foreign girl. A young girl. If I'm lucky, their words and sentences, thoughts, judgements would not matter to me as I was not around to respond or to define each emotion. I would've succeeded into slashing the mirror into pieces. Or scratching away my name of the list. I would've succeeded into disappearing. That's all I long and strive towards these days. Nothing else. <br /><br />Yes, I am very saddened things are this way but there's not much I can do about it. I don't feel like it either, by just throwing a glance at the huge mess I had infront of me. It was huge. So many things I had to fix and it's not like I was losing anything by leaving this place. I thought this place was going through its final moments too. Having a body was one of the most aweful or <B>THE</b> aweful thing I've ever experienced in my whole life. The ability to feel pain, to think and to see that what someone is saying is hurtful or senses like the sharp edge of a knife. All these things are things I won't miss. When the bad holds hands with something bad, it only creates the worst. But if there's any positive thing behind it as self-pleasure.., then it's pleasant of course. I'm being a bit superficial now, however in such times I was feeling... great. I knew better.<br /><br />My psych wanted to know me better today and questioned me on my background which differs a lot from the European lifestyle. We (people from my culture) are religious, very reclusive when it comes to personal problems and dependent. And it's not like you go to Spain, you meet tons of Spaniards. You meet a lot of other people from all sides of the world abroad too (where I come from). It's like this multiculturistic place. Someone optimistic would say without doubting of the word that this little world is: colourful. I didn't like talking to her about these things as it made me come out as ... As something weird, strange. An odd creature, with very weird habits. My assignment of the day was to write many things as possible down that I wanted to do but my family didn't allow me to. I nodded after sitting ranting like a careless girl who really has nothing to loose. That's how I survive the day. Being as careless as possible. It will be hard to complete this little 'task' before next week Friday as I really don't want to do anything anymore my family doesn't want me to. I guess I will have to lie to her. At the other side I was relieved that I had stuff to do in the final days of my life. Well, there was one thing: I wanted to visit L. I couldn't tell her about that, can I? What would she be thinking of me? And L. isn't talking to me anymore as before. It should tell me that what goes around comes around. It's the same with D. who's now nothing else than a name. I think it's over. Over and out. I will keep my grief for myself and he won't ever know. (Yes, I'm hurt while I'm the one who hurt him, strange, isn't it?) <br /><br />D. used to like me and tried to get to me. I wasn't impressed, especially by little things he said that offended me (not to mention the cousin incident). It only made me see how reckless and immature teenagers can be. Aside of a nice sense of humor, there wasn't much he had that could have made me melt (even for us to later find out we don't fit, that happens when you finally see each other in real life: Then looks <b><u>DO</u></b> matter). His random talk irritated me. I -yes- loathe being ignored. I can't have people not answering questions I ask. Why would I ask them?? To know something, <i>of course</i>. Yesterday he emailed me back saying how I was the only one who knew a lot about him, etc. etc. (not that he wrote that much) and with honesty I shall tell: there were many things I did not know about him. I don't know when he feels suicidial or why he cuts himself (except that he liked doing it). I don't know when he's depressed or how he sometimes spends the night. When it comes to emotions I don't know anything about him. If they'd give a 'know your best friend test' where you need to answer all the emotional questions, I would fail. Hard. Because I never knew any of the things I wished to know, I never felt I could talk about my issues either. It only confirmed my decision to not do so, after I had told him I cut and having him telling me to not do it. I strongely disagree that two cutters amongst each other should or can tell each other 'don't' while the other had the same urges to 'see blood'. It didn't make sense. I never expected to hear him tell me that while we're both cutters. From there I started getting my shoes on to leave through the kitchen door. And what happened next: he continued following my traces till he saw he was not relevant as before. And the same I am seeing with L. For some weird reason -I'm sure I said something he doesn't wish to hear- I sense I'm being avoided. I feel hurt! <b>AGAIN</b>. It has made me see that no matter what happens, I'm really better off..|||2||
1127517683|enigma|Some songs|Top 100 favorite songs in no particular order (an artist can only be named once):<br /><br />1. Ordinairy world- Duran Duran<br />2. Stay- Shakespear's Sister'<br />3. Precious things- Tori Amos<br />4. Are you there- Pantera<br />5. Bleed- Cold<br />6. Megalomaniac- Incubus<br />7. Other side- Red Hot Chili Peppers<br />8. I would die for you- Garbage<br />9. Zombie- The Cranberries<br />10. Don't you (forget about me)- Simple Minds<br />11. Iris- Goo goo dolls<br />12. Mad world- Gary Jules<br />13. Gloomy sunday- Sarah Mclachlan<br />14. Goodnight moon- Shivaree<br />15. Bloody sunday- U2<br />16. Bedshaped- Keane<br /><b>17. Don't leave home- Dido</b><br />18. Boys of summer- Dj Sammy<br />19. Drop it- Scoop<br />20. Stand my ground- Within Temptation<br />21. November rain- Guns N Roses<br />22. Tragic kingdom- No Doubt<br />23. One- Metallica<br />24. Heart shaped box- Nirvana<br />25. Castles in the sky- Ian van Dahl<br />26. Heal me- Alpha Blondy<br />27. Karma chameleon- Culture Club<br />28. Outside- Staind<br />29. Foolish games- Jewel<br />30. Dreaming of you- Selena<br />31. Strani amori- Laura Pausini<br />32. Out of reach- Gabrielle<br />33. Flora's secret- Enya<br />34. Everything- Anouk<br />35. I would stay- Krezip<br />36. Kleine jongen- Trijntje Oosterhuis (cover)<br />37. Twenty years- Placebo<br />38. Cry for the moon- Epica<br />39. I surrender- Saybia<br />40. Seven seconds- Neneh Cherry<br />41. Just another day- Jon Secada<br />42. I don't want to miss a thing- Aerosmith<br />43. We all sleep alone- Cher<br />44. Nothing really matters- Madonna<br />45. Natural mystic- Bob Marley<br />46. Not an addict- KC's Choice<br />47. Walk on water- Milk Inc.<br />48. This mess we're in- PJ Harvey<br />49. The boxer- Simon & Garfunkel<br />50. Cherry blossom girl- Air<br />51. God put a smile upon your face- Coldplay<br />52. Stop cryning your heart out - Oasis<br />53. Mutter- Rammstein<br />54. Aerials- System of a down<br />55. Demolition lovers- My chemical romance<br />56. Nymphomaniac fantasia- Nightwish<br />57. Wonderful life- Matilde Santing<br />58. Rain down on me- Kane<br />59. Tourniquet- Evanescence<br />60. Ink- Finch<br />61. Scars- Papa Roach<br />62. All is full of love- Bjork<br />63. Don't dream it's over- Crowded house<br />64. Such is life- Rank 1<br />65. The ocean- Mae<br />66. Fast car- Tracy Chapman<br />67. Tears never dry- Stephen Simmonds<br />68. A warm place- Nine Inch Nails<br />69. Innocence- Enigma<br />70. Funeral song- The Rasmus<br />71. Better off alone- Alice Deejay<br />72. Not me, not I- Delta Goodrem<br />73. Alive- P.O.D<br />74. Sympathy for the devil- The Rolling Stones<br />75. More than words- Extreme<br />76. Te sigo amando- Juan Gabriel<br />77. Dust in the wind- Kansas<br />78. Wicked game- Chris Isaak<br />79. Numb- Linkin Park<br />80. Desert Rose- Sting<br />81. Join me in death- H.I.M<br />82. The road ahead- City to city<br />83. Aliviame (ballad)- Los Primera<br />84. Nunca voy a olvidarte- La India & Marc Anthony<br />85. I wish I could fly- Roxette<br />86. I'd do anything for love- Meat loaf<br />87. It's my life- Bon Jovi<br />88. A midsummer night's dream ouverture- F.M. Bartholdy<br />89. Symphony nr. 5 in cis-mineur part 4- Gustav Mahler<br />90. Suite nr. 3 in d-majeur part 2 'Air'- J.S. Bach<br />91. Blue- Eiffel 65<br />92. Hero- Nickelback<br />93. Wer bisto- Twarres<br />94. When I die- No mercy<br />95. Dromen zijn bedrog- Marco Borsato<br />96. Confide in me- Kylie Minogue<br />97. King of sorrow- Sade<br />98. Enjoy the silence- Depeche Mode<br />99. Imitation of life- R.E.M.<br />100. Clear blue water- Oceanlab ft. Justine Suissa<br /><br />Bold=Most memorable, has a ... special meaning.|||2||
1127433284|enigma|Mess|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Life is this too: cleaning your own mess. No one will do it for you. Seems like D. and I are completely through as friends. Shouldn't be surprising but hell it hurts, as I expected it. It started with me returning to add the last final touches to the community and also revamping it since a girl decided it was cool to steal the entire layout. I had to go back there, even it was my own choice that made me return. He had sent me a PM telling me he no longer wishes to be there since there's nothing keeping him there either. If I was cold-blooded (which I think is better than one who cares about anything, I mean <i>anything</i>, that's the cunt -me- who sits writing all these crap stuff down) I would've erased him and forget about him. And welcome the new. Instead I am grieving he is thinking like that. He really knows how to have my heart on the floor, though I'm certain he isn't aware I care. He has me for this senseless bitch who over time became indifferent or who only cares about her own wellbeing. It makes me think of K. and her best friend. Ignorance is a bitch. A mean bitch. He doesn't know the reasons why I stopped talking to him and I may not know how he thinks about me, I am most definitely sure what sorts of images he may have of me in his mind. The only thing I could do is, call him and put an end to this mess. I have never imagined that trying to do something good, doing the best would turn out to show me opposite. It must tell a lot about my weak and low IQ. I was so sssstttu-pidd. And today sick too. And it's getting more complexed: I erased his mobile number so today I have no idea where to start looking to be able to call him.<br /><br />I have placed my final order. I think I will miss the Corpse Bride. It would've been nice if I could see it. I think Tim Burton is a nice director and Johnny a great actor.<br /><br />Oh, I dreamt with D. too. He had written me a letter telling me he wished I could see him the way I wanted to. Confusing. But it sure has made me feel a huge guilt.<br /><br />I don't have to write much in this entry, it was enough, it said enough of the brat I was. I simply did not own the right to linger here, definitely not any longer. There even was a moment people (relatives) would say, everything I touch ends up damaged. I am cursed. I'm not your best friend, I am chaos seeing that if she continues living as chaos, she will only end up worse.|||2||
1127430111|enigma|Ziek|Liefste dagboek,<br /><br />Wat ben ik vandaag toch enorm ziek, ik voel me enorm misselijk. Tante Bed is op bezoek gekomen en het zuigt al mijn energie uit mijn lijf. Als ik geld had om mijn afspraak met de psycholoog morgen af te zeggen, dan had ik het gedaan maar ik moet het daar zien te overleven, 's morgens vroeg. Tel deze reden er nog bij waarom ik een leven van nog een paar decennia's niet kon verdragen, ik had teveel lichamelijke klachten. Er is zoveel onrust in mij. Ik ben zelden op en top bruisend met energie. Goh, wat is dat? Alles doet pijn aan me. Ik zit echt half wakker, half duf wat met veel moeite neer te typen. Ik <i>moest</i> de dood in worden geholpen. Alles wees ernaar dat de dood het beste voor mij was. Het was beter voor mij om er een eind eraan te zetten. Verdrietig ben ik niet echt. Ik heb nooit iets gehad om te kunnen zeggen dat ik het kwijt ben. Het onbewust ervan zijn telt niet mee. Mijn hoofd is lastig. Ik wil muziek luisteren echter is mijn oor niet in staat om het te verdragen. Ik gebruik geen medicijnen meer, hoewel ik gisteren een pil van de dood heb geprobeerd, misselijk liet het me voelen.<br /><br />Hoe meer ik leef, hoe meer ik zie dat ik zo niet verder kan. Ik kan niet opstaan voor mezelf en mijn mond opendoen en zeggen wat mij bezield. Ik weet nooit eens wat. Ik hoop dat ik volgende week beter ben zodat ik meer kan schrijven. Moe.. en ik heb enorme honger. Alles kost me veel te veel energie.|||2||
1127317052|enigma|Demons|<i>The preachers are now turning into demons</i><br /><br />According to reviews I've read about Plath, she could not resist the perfectionism the Queen in her head, representing her mother demanded from her. It would drove her to kill herself. The only way to put an end to that annoying voice, especially if it's living inside your skull, is through death. Through death I also see liberation. I see freedom.<br /><br />I don't have relatives. I've never had a father, nor a mother. I definitely don't have brothers. I'd have to be careful to not entirely loose it and become a monster. Remember, the only monster is just us. We need to slay us, not those who slayed us despite my desire to do so. Images kept flashing in my head and I knew it was wrong, I was wrong. I could loose it. And therefor I had to die, to find peace inside my skull... I didn't hear voices but my brains hurt and it saw things I didn't always have control over. So, yes. That asshole decided to take his rage on me when he came out of work just because there was no food. He rang his big brother to relieve his heart about the loser I was. About the fact I could only be online all day and nothing else. I am rather revengeful. I've been feeling revengeful the entire night. Though most likely it's my fault again. I take all the blame on me but it won't take my need to have revenge. I hope one day he'll suffer incredibly and that I can watch it and maybe enjoy it too. But untill today: I've definitely had it to live here. I don't belong here. Only I can't wish anything bad at the moment. I'd just have to hope I'd get lost or be able to haunt them after death. What you can't see, is rather scary. <br /><br />L. was in my dream. I was pregnant but don't tell me who the father was. Maybe L. Most likely not but I was very happy, though I didn't know who impregnant me. I felt I was 5 months and was expecting a boy. It felt so nice. L. was walking aside me.. and I held my tummy feeling a tiny 5 toe-ed foot. It felt so beautiful. At least I have an idea now how it's like to be pregnant. I have to look for the meaning. A nice dream after all that happened. <br /><br />Today I'll be washing my hair and do another few stuff. I have to see when I can gather the last pieces of the ingredients that I need before morons create my day for me. And I'm still being bothered by physical pain. *curses* I have a terrible headache. Perhaps I'll just plait my hair as they say it's bad to wash your hair when you have your period.|||2||
1127237536|enigma|More dreams|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Everyday it's a whole effort to gain energy to write. I am never in the mood for writing but I have to. Even if it is to repeat myself for the hundredth of time. I keep having very long and odd dreams, none of them are nice. There was one where I was at a family's house and I think they knew something was wrong with me. They told me to talk to a dog and a little girl who went and sat especially in her tiny chair glaring at me. I had no idea what to say. Later I was lying down where another teenage girl who appeared to be a bit dumb was asking tons of irrelevant questions. I don't remember but I did ask something about Sylvia Plath to the woman (the mother) as my voice sounded nothing but my own. I don't know what she told me. She seemed Christian.<br /><br />I was with a boy of my age, we were sitting really close and I knew he did like me in some way, only he wouldn't open his mouth for not even a second. He just sat like a statue with his glasses on whilst I told him he wrote the nicest cards and they were the most valuable to me. It's a lie actually but I just wanted to stroke his ego. After awhile as I was making fun of a girl who appeared with bloody thighs infront of me (it was actually me), he disappeared like it was too much for him to handle. Another dream was where my younger brother was murdering people like a hobby. The scenes were nothing nice even I just stood there, watching and glared, hoping I wouldn't be one of his victims. He did come home from his work yesterday, insulting me as you'd expect. I just went up to my bedroom... and there I wrote a few poems for L. (of course in Dutch, English will never be my strongest point). If he ever read them, he'd understand their meanings. One of them could be taken in two ways. Both offensive, I think.<br /><br />Yesterday he smacked me like out of ignorance. Or out of fear for something. I felt myself reaching a spot far away from him on my bum that got so sore. It's simple and easy: I feel rejected. He is sceptical and wants to know what inside his drink first before he decide to drink it. He accepted the drink (me) but didn't want me at his lips yet. Getting my point? The voice in my head saw how I would fall asleep, waking up the next day wishing I had written. So with great effort I picked my pen and book from the ground and started writing the thoughts that were swimming in circles in my head for being unable to have a different home. As soon as I had them written, I could rest and fell in a deep dream. I may visit him still over a few weeks... or get myself lost in an unknown place. I had to take lots of money with me, just in case. We shall see, nothing but a nice movie. Like you do at sleepovers with relatives.|||2||
1127158417|enigma|If...|<i>If you keep looking at others, you will loose yourself...</i><br /><br />Tori's voice is putting me in a gloomy mood and my search for what's right and wrong will always lead me to myself as no one can know what's best for me than I can. I find it rather saddening how everyone thinks that suicide is a bad thing to do. I am determinate and cocky by believing I will ever find the answer and find peace with what I will do. From all I've read my sponge has sucked up all the guilt people express when discussing this topic which probably will always be discussed. People really make me sick. If you listened to all of them, you'd feel discourage if you were easily to be played with or to be fooled. All the things you'd believe in would be nothing than the wrapper of what once was had a tasteful candy inside.<br /><br />I want to know what's best for me... but I don't know myself to decide that. Maybe if I knew my life had a purpose and when it would come to an end, I'd probably live... even it was just to meet that beggar over 20 years who would've ask me for money or else he'd starve without food. To save his life, yes. At least something, but I don't know nothing. I find it selfish from whoever to think or assume I (should) know everything. I don't think all decisions were ever decisions because you hardly had a knowledge, I mean <i>real</i> knowledge of what was and wasn't. Of what was out there and wasn't. Of what was coming or wasn't. Of what used to be or wasn't. Life is like a book missing pages. There's a lot I doubt I'd ever understand and perhaps I will endure life till it did what it always did best. No matter how much I disagreed with myself. I didn't think I could.|||2||
1127141872|enigma|How I feel|Dearest diary,<br /><br />This is exactly how I feel: I feel like a coffee in white milk, something that ruins the whole beauty or things people stand for. I feel so intensely pointless. Like a waste of flesh and blood. Why am I here then if I don't serve any purpose anyone else has or are having? I want to entirely fade without leaving traces, without being noticed. Without I noticing that I'm gone. I don't wish to remember. Remembrances are painful souvenirs for the mind, a torture for an already chaotic mind. I don't want to know how I was and will never continue to be. Everything hurts, even moving hurts. The fact that I'm human hurts. That my body is touching the air, I feel, is so painful. It's like I'm contaminating it with my dark, morbid cells or scent. I feel I'm a poison, a threat, a menace to all that is alive. Sometimes I'm even scared of myself, because I'm unpredictable. Or because I don't know me. I don't really feel like me. I feel like Anakin being placed into the Darth Vader suit. It's not me. I'm underneath, somewhere. This is not me what I'm looking at. But I have looked inside and all there's been are blood and meat, flesh and creepy things, aside of the nice sight and beauty blood had. So smooth. I feel sickened but not crazy. I am sickened, yet sane. I am still sane, I believe. I'm such a burden and I'm tired. I'm always tired that no sleep is enough to keep me awake without one single yawn on a day.|||2||
1127139966|enigma|Walking Naked|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I think everything will simply keep upsetting me beyond eternity or infinity. I finished reading Walking Naked, a sort of teen novel by Alyssa Brugman (she's Australian) and saw there was a website of hers on <a href="http://www.geocities.com/alyssabrugman" target="_TOP">geocities</a>. Perhaps I reacted a bit too enthusiastic on her book as I felt common things as Perdita felt. I think if you want to understand my reaction and hers, reading the book is needed. I didn't expect her to answer me so quickly but she did and it's a rather cooly reply. In fact, she doesn't appreciate her own characters. How can you - as a writer- not be able to value the characters you personally created? I once started writing a book I will never finish and the bad and good sides of each personage I brought in the book had their own sympathy. I think despite everything that made me this way today, I had to be a bit happy that I am at least not thinking as the rest of the world does. It brought me a different mind, that's all that I'm thankful for. This is what I wrote, maybe I shouldn't have said that I were suicidial but I did think it would provoke a reply. Perhaps it did.<br /><br /><blockquote><br />Dear Alyssa,<br /><br />It would be an honour if you answered my email but I understand writers are <br />very busy. I have to say I recently discovered your book Walking Naked in <br />the library and finished reading it today as soon as I started reading it. I <br />feel so much for Perdita for being a suicidial girl myself. I felt like <br />crying when I was going to the point of seeing Megan betray her publically. <br />I think Megan is very selfish and there are plenty of such people in the <br />world, attending school and ruining others lives such as types of persons <br />like Perdita. Perdita reminds me a lot of myself as I've been an outcast at <br />school myself though not so badly, as for a mysterious reasons I'd always <br />have people who would feel compassion for me and thought it was needed to <br />make me a part of their group out of pity. Soon I got enough of it and now I <br />am living a life, isolated from life awaiting the moment of decay which has <br />already started. I just want to thank you deeply for writing such a deep <br />story, it moved me a lot. I wished I knew Perdita, or that I were Megan. I <br />wouldn't dare to put her aside for a group alike Mean Girls (the movie). She <br />was about to show her a geniune side of friendship, so stupid it is that she <br />realises it after something bad happens. I admire Perdita's courage for <br />ending her life. It's very daring. I do wonder, how did she die? You didn't <br />mention it... but I do wonder how she possibly could've killed herself.<br /><br />I must say I'm curious about your other books and will be seeking for more <br />as soon as I go back to the library. Thanks for making me think by such a <br />nice character as Perdita. She's inspiring with her poetic talent.<br /><br />Warmest regards,<br />enigma</blockquote> <br /><br /><img src="divmijn.jpg"><br /><b>Her reply</b><br /><br /><blockquote>Hello enigma,<br />I'm glad you enjoyed the book.<br />I deliberately didn't mention how Perdita died, because I didn't want to sensationalise it, or offer it as a solution.  Its sole purpose in the novel is as a device to deny Megan the right of reply, so that she would learn from the experience.<br />I don't believe suicide is a solution for anybody.  I don't think it is daring - on the contrary, I think it is the height of cowardice.  The act reveals the flaws in Perdita's character - her pigheadedness, and unwillingness to compromise.  <br />It takes much more daring and bravery to ask for help.<br />I don't think Perdita is a nice person either.  She is mean to Megan, but she would have learned better interpersonal skills as she matured.  <br />I was really angry with Perdita, because she would have prospered at university and as an adult in ways that Megan never will.  The things that made her sad would have seemed inconsequential in later years.  (Think about the things that made you upset when you were seven.  They seem trivial now, yes?)<br />I'm not qualified to counsel you, but if you are suicidal I do encourage you to find someone to talk to.  I have included some numbers and a website in the back of the book.<br />We live on a big planet.  There are so many wonderous and beautiful things to discover.  I don't understand how anyone would deny themselves the opportunity to explore it.<br /> <br />Alyssa</blockquote><br /><br />(What was it that I said wrong and why does her reply sound so offensive?<br />P.S: What beautiful things does this world have to offer? If they were obvious, then why don't I see nothing else than painful monotony?)<br /><br />Maybe I am cursed to be the sensitive girl forever. She completely froze me... I feel now that I shouldn't speak out my mind or give any opinions. I've always felt I had to hold in my tongue for being so... nothing. I have no idea what I'm saying. But she may have been a bit rude, I still feel soothed now I finished the Bell Jar. <br /><br />So, anyone has different opinions about suicide but I'm sick and tired of hearing others saying it's selfish. Alyssa says that what Perdita felt was trivial, how can be bullied at school be a trivial thing? It's something that could leave a lasting scar on you forever. It could damage your look on life even as an adult. She has no idea what she's talking about, does she? I won't reply back, I will pretend to have taken her words for what they are whilst I totally disagree with her views and thoughts (though surely they must make sense from her point of view or else she wouldn't make such statements but it doesn't surprise me, anyone else have done the same as her before).<br /><br />The book is a la Mean Girls. One of the 'mean girls' becomes friend with this complete outcast. I don't think she (Megan) becomes 'a friend'. I think she used Perdita for during that time she started having problems with her gang (disagreements). To not feel lonely and lost, she would hang around with Perdita or go with Perdita wherever she wanted to go. When the other 'Mean Girl gang' find out that she's hanging around with a 'nerd' who they totally find inhuman, they demand her to dump her and to publically humiliate her. Perdita who goes through already a lot (abusive parents) commits suicide two weeks later after suffering this betrayal, though she sure must've had more reasons that completed her long list of why living is not worth it all. <b>Of course</b> Megan feels intense regret and gets rid of her superficial friends. Afterwards you're always sorry but you can't change anything you've done. Afterwards Perdita is being painted as evil and coward for the deed she gave herself into. Afterwards people don't understand that -even this is contradictive at some point- whatever you say and do anywhere, anytime has an influence on others. In the good or bad way. Either you choose to have it affect you or not, I still think you're not the only one to be held responsible for the final decision you take. As it's often a reaction on earlier things that happened. A sort of chain reaction. But of course, I'm silly.<br /><br />This is a terrible feeling, I am really feeling an inner protest against her words but I can't speak out the sentences. I'm angrily lost for words.|||2||
1127102908|enigma|Misselijk|Liefste dagboek,<br /><br />Je zou me niet geloven als ik vertelde hoe misselijk ik me voel, bedorven of verdorven, wat het juiste woord ook is. De afgelopen dagen heb ik aan bed gekluisterd doorgebracht omdat mijn broer's vriendin er was. Ik hallucineerde, droomde de ene droom na de andere. Voelde me als een geest die zich geen goeie slaappositie in deze wrak genaamd lijf kon vinden. Ik voel me enorm beroerd en ik eet nogal ongezond en dat uit zich in verschrikkelijke buikpijnen, dat ook komt omdat mijn menstruatie op komst is. Het gaat gepaard met hevige pijnen die me nooit met rust laten. Ik voel me kotsmisselijk.<br /><br />Gisteren droomde ik dat iemand in de wilde weg mij met een mes verwondde. Ik bloedde. Toen ik het mes uit zijn hand wou halen, stak hij verscheidene malen in de dij van mijn nicht, wat een gapende wond veroorzaakte. Het leek alsof mijn pogingen hem de mes te ontnemen ervoor zorgde dat mijn nicht meer gewond raakte. Later was ik op het strand en er kwam een golf van water op ons af en ik wist niet hoe eruit te komen. Van het balkon springen of binnenin het huis zitten terwijl water zich overal om mij heen langzaam omhoog steeg. Ik heb meerdere dromen gehad, maar deze zijn de meest boeiendste. Vandaag achtervolgde een jonge krankzinnige heks mij en wou me vermoorden. Toen ik doodmoe een plaats onder de bed vond, was er een gleufje waarin mijn broer mij ontdekte en mij verraadde.<br /><br />Vraag me niet wat ik online doe, ik weet het niet. Ik wil een beetje met iemand praten tegelijkertijd dat ik geen zin heb. Ik ben doodop, geloof me. Dagelijks hoor ik mijn moeder het woord dood opnoemen en het doet me geloven dat het eraan zit te komen. Mijn dagen zijn geteld. Ik ga het wel doen, dat staat vast als een muur. Ik kan alleen maar duimen en hopen dat ik bevrijding vind. Ik begin een enorme last voor mezelf te worden en dat zal vast en zeker voor de ander gelden. Ik kan niet meer met mezelf overweg. Er zijn teveel beperkingen en eisen, en ik kan niets meer omdraaien, geen tijd, geen niks. Ik voel me doodongelukkig.<br /><br />Ik ben The Bell Jar aan het uitlezen, Esther lijkt op mij. Ik begin mezelf wat te begrijpen als ik over haar lees. Walking Naked: Ik voelde me op Perdita lijken. Ik heb de auteur vandaag nog geemaild. Het is een goed boek.. heel tragisch en egoistisch.<br /><br />Het enige dat me overeind liet staan gedurende deze paar verschrikkelijke dagen was de gedachte aan 'je weet wel wie'. Ik hallucineerde de hele nacht door en tussen mijn dromen heen. Ik weet dat het een tijdelijke houvast is want spoedig laat het korstje los, en moest ik zelf weer alleen verder. Hoe kan ik het anders uitleggen?|||2||
1126996429|enigma|Eventjes vrij|Liefste dagboek,<br /><br />Op het moment heb ik eventjes vrije tijd om te schrijven. Mijn broer en zijn vriendin zijn weg, uit de stad lijkt me. Dat hoor ik van mijn moeder. Ik heb dus tijd zat om wat te vertellen.<br /><br />Een paar uren geleden kreeg ik twee smsjes van T. waarin ze me vertelde dat ze me miste en van me hield. Ze wou dat ik haar schreef. Voor de een of ander reden, probeer ik niet alle woorden die naar me wordt geschreven serieus te nemen. Om preciezer te zijn; ik geloof ze niet. Het maakte me wel week van binnen. Ik vind het aardig als mensen aardige dingen over me vertellen, alleen is de kwelling en de druk die erop volgt echt onuitstaanbaar. Ik voel dat ik alles moet doen om mij aan hun beeld te houden en dat kan ik niet want ik ben nu eenmaal een veranderlijk persoon.<br /><br />Zo ervaarde ik vandaag op een forum die ik recentelijk begonnen ben te bezoeken, dat enkele leden mij begonnen te bewonderen omdat ik goeie visies of inzet bracht op het forum. Ik vond dat een stropdas om mijn keel en vluchtte meteen weg zonder de verdere berichtjes te lezen die ik maar al te graag doorneem. Mensen moeten mij nooit adoreren want er zal een moment komen dat ik ze hoe dan ook teleurstel. Alleen mijn vriend had die recht omdat we elkaar beter kenden, echter was ik vrijgezel als wat. Het gevoel had ik dat ik nooit zou ervaren of voelen wat het is om lief te hebben. Of misschien zou het me overkomen zonder dat ik het wist, maar in de situatie waarin ik me nu bevond zag ik dat niet zo snel aankomen vooral met de plannen die ik met mezelf had.<br /><br />Al. heeft weer geprobeerd om mij aan haar MSN toe te voegen. Ik probeer haar uit alle macht te negeren omdat ik al te goed weet hoe ze is. Ze heeft me meerdere malen pijn gedaan met haar arrogantie en dominantie. Misschien is dat nu eenmaal hoe ze is, alleen heb ik geen zin meer om mij rotter te voelen dan ik al ben. Het is verleden tijd. Of ik nu wel of niet om haar geef, doet er ook niet langer toe. Het maakt me niet uit hoe het met haar is. Ik geloof dat er mensen zat zijn die zich gecharmeerd door haar zullen voelen en met haar een leven willen. Ik tracht haar gewoon te vergeten en zoals ze mij had aangeraden, om door te gaan met mijn leven. Waarom kon ze dat ook niet? Het maakte me wel nieuwsgierig waarvoor ze me heeft toegevoegd, echter blijft het bijzaak. Ik heb een ander leven nu, slechter dan voorheen. En ik hoef geen wonden uit het verleden weer open te gaan krabben, want dat is ze. <br /><br />Mijn moeder spreekt heel vaak over de dood met mij. Wellicht voelde ze als moeder dat er iets duidelijk mis met mij was. Ze zag -zei ze vandaag- dat de manier waarop ik leefde, ik in stilte veel leed en groot gelijk heeft ze. Ik vertel het niet. Niemand hoeft het ooit te weten. Niemand hoeft te weten dat ik een eind wil zetten aan mijn nutteloze bestaan. Ik voelde me lelijk en vies. Ik wou dat ik mooi was zodat ik sneller mijn grote liefde kon vinden. Goh, niemand weet hoe vaak ik naar hem of haar heb uitgekeken. Het lijkt niet voor me voorbestemd te zijn. <br /><br />De pijntjes die ik voelde zijn inmiddels wat minder geworden. Ik zal proberen om geen medicijnen meer te gaan innemen. Ik zal ook gaan stoppen met de pil en hopen op een normale menstruatie. Deze week is de laatste strip op en zal ik volgende week aan mijn doorbraak bloeding beginnen die soms varieert. Soms begint het heel vroeg, andere keren nogal laat. Het klinkt heel raar, maar soms wou ik dolgraag een kind hebben omdat ik wist dat ik dan wel een reden zou hebben om te leven. Ik zou mijn uiterste best doen om hem (ik ben bijna zeker dat ik dan een zoon zou krijgen) een goeie leven te geven en een goeie volwassen te laten worden. Beter dan hoe mijn ouders mij hebben behandeld. Niet dat ik hen volledig verwijt, echter kon hun opvoeding beter zijn geweest. Als het was, dan zou ik nooit zo zijn zoals ik vandaag de dag ben. Het zal wel een mooi geschenk zijn... Een dagdroom, weer.<br /><br />Twee weken geleden heb ik mijn haar gewassen, nu is het alweer vuil. Het jeukt verschrikkelijk. Omdat mijn broer's vriendin hier is, moet ik maar wachten tot maandag om het te wassen. Ik veracht mezelf in het algemeen en vind mezelf een walgelijke heks. Een oude heks. Ik zie er absoluut niet uit en ik gedraag me niet normaal. Ik voel me super onhandig en onnodig, alsof niemand mij moet hebben. Ik ben gedwongen hier te leven totdat ik doodga. Ik hoop dat die dag snel kan komen. Ik hoop dat ik ik succes zal hebben om mij om zeep te helpen.|||2||
1126936062|enigma|Geen zin|Liefste dagboek,<br /><br />Zin heb ik niet om te schrijven. Omdat het weer een paar dagen zal duren voordat ik online kan komen, tracht ik alle gedachtes die ik de afgelopen dagen heb gehad en gevoeld hier voor je neer te zetten. Ik blijf maar de pijn voelen die me volkomen irriteerd. Ik voel me zo geergerd aan alles, voor aan mezelf. Waarom ben ik niet mooi? Waarom moet het zo zijn, dat L. mij wellicht nooit echt zal liefhebben? Ik voel me nogal eenzaam. Heel erg soms. Eigenlijk dagelijks. Ik luister voortdurend naar muziek om de leegte op te vullen, maar het lukt niet altijd. Soms rent de emmer over, daar kun je niets aan doen wanneer de dammen doorbreken.<br /><br />Mijn lichaam is smerig, en mijn binnenste moet dat ook zijn. Ik vergiftig mezelf zoveel als mogelijk met pillen. Ik nam vandaag toch twee chloordiazepoxide tegelijk. Ik wou eigenlijk drie nemen om in slaap te vallen. Het lukte me niet omdat ik later gestoord werd door mijn broer.<br /><br />Ik huil als ik soms aan L. denk. Gisteren toen ik in de bibliotheek bezig was een opzegbrief van Postbank voor mijn moeder te printen, wou ik later ook zijn foto's afdrukken. Het lukte me niet dus besloot ik zijn langste email ooit, af te drukken. Ik herlees het, proef de woorden. En kijk naar zijn formulatie en de mogelijke gevoelens erachter. Ik tracht het geheim te ontrafelen. Wat voelde hij in werkelijkheid voor mij? Was het sterk genoeg om niet te veranderen eenmaal hij me had gezien? Ik wou graag iemand dichtbij hebben. Ik heb het nooit mogen ervaren. Misschien staat dat allemaal vast in mijn levensboek geschreven. <br /><br />Vanavond heb ik teveel pijn om langer te schrijven. Ik wil slapen, eigenlijk het liefst sterven. Heel zachtjes en geruisloos. Echter moet ik wachten. Oktober komt er zo aan, misschien kan ik dan gaan. Ik wil gaan. God zal mij maar moeten vergeven, echter begint de lasten ondraaglijker te worden. Ze zijn ondraaglijk voor mij. Als er iemand was... echter is er alleen de trouwe stilte die me omvangt en me altijd klaarwakker houdt. Het bracht me een stekelijke pijn. Het hield me altijd wakker.|||2||
1126934145|enigma|Mood swing|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I hate rereading my entries but sometimes they inspire me to write a next one. I hate the previous one, oh well. I am dualism. L. used that word with me once and I liked it. I am very left, right, south, north. I'm water, going softly up and down. I am never straight and clear. I'm always misty, right in between. I'm both side of the coin. I'm the moon and sun, though more 'moon'y.<br /><br />My brother's girlfriend has claimed all weekends as hers as she's now here each weekend. I will stay in my bedroom and try to finish reading The Bell Jar. I haven't been feeling so fine today. I feel incredibly ugly when I look to myself, especially during the day, when the light fall inside the bathroom when my mother has her bedroom door wide open and the curtains. When something bothers me, I go very silent and I try to dissolve. I try everything to be unnoticeable. I tried to lie down in bed as my cheeks started becoming wet. I don't think I can make it till October, really. I feel the urge to disappear right now. Death is my shelter and comfort. I feel home and safe. Alive I'm so cold.<br /><br />Even I wanted to believe that L. would fall for me when we see each other, I knew well enough that it's a nice thought and nothing <i>but</i> a thought. With his fixation on beautiful 'normality', I'd never make it to be attractive in his eyes. I was more a beautiful disaster (=ugly). I say beautiful as I like tragedies. I like reading stories where this person dies, I find people dying or the manners they die sometimes beautiful. I know I'm weird and that's why I don't fit here. I have many weird and odd tastes to be normal. I enjoy conversing with L. and as long as I live, I will try to enjoy our conversations as much as I can without thinking anything. Though I was withering slowly. One day I would not see any pleasure into talking to him. It always happens when I'm fall out of love for many valid reasons.<br /><br /><i>You don't look depressed to me</i>, was the comment the man at my appointment yesterday told me. He was examinating me to see if I could work or go back to school because: 'this society prefers everyone to have their own income', he said laughing. I laughed falsely along with him. Actually, the whole conversation my brains did the automatic work for me. My heart was not laughing or smiling at him. I found that a dumb comment and that he was a man, made it worse. Later I had to talk to another one who had this 'fake' laughter too, thus I also tried to laugh along with him and pretend that I do want to live and work and be a part of society. I've also noticed that usually old men (elderlies) tell me I look 'nice'. What do they mean? I must look very weird or old.  But I certainly didn't take it as a compliment. The whole conversation was superficial. One of them wanted me to tell what happened in my past, so there I had to be specific of why I was under care of a psychologist. <i>We humans can't live without each other, we are social animals</i>, I'm quoting this idiot what he is to me. 'Oh is that so?' I thought into myself. If we're so 'social animals', then why was everything and everyone so focussed on individualism. If you get on a bus, you can be sure that some people won't get up, if you're old. They will just continue sitting, chatting like they don't give a shit about you. If I am desperately seeking my purse I lost, no one will come to me and ask: 'what's wrong, can I help you?'. No, they will think I'm crazy and laugh at me. So, he was just being a fuck. And I hate fucks. Fuck his social life he believed in. I hope I soon won't be part of it.<br /><br />So, perhaps I'd be working. I don't care. Money is good. I can save it up to own a credit card and buy poison that is reliable. I may not. As I am considering going in October, or attempting suicide. I know I may end up most definitely in the hospital if I fail. What's certain, I'd die in both cases. If I succeeded, of course immediately. But if I failed, the process would go slowly but it would lead to death or me losing myself, being absolutely nothing I were before. Just a lifeless shell.<br /><br />I have pains again. Terrible pains. I am using painkillers, they don't seem to help so much. I will take another one tonight and hope I awake feeling better. I'm such a wrech. I am almost falling apart. My knees are not functioning normally anymore, as my thighs are heavier than my legs. I can't walk so well either. I'm... yeah, 'handicapped' in all senses of the word. I'm certainly not normal.<br /><br />I went for another ride with my brother. My mum gave me 20 euros this week which I'm saving. I think I have 300 euros saved now. Money to buy a death ticket. My death is rather expensive, isn't it? I said to myself, if I fail and stay alive, I'd jump, without doubt. |||2||
1126798959|enigma|Bad Memory|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I don't want to try out the scales anymore, for being so scared. The last time I checked my weight was last week and I was 57kg. I even saw 56.7kg but it changed everytime I stepped on it. It would either swing to 65 or go lower. It made me want to beat the scales against the wall till it broke as I already know it's not very trustworthy though what's definitely sure, I have lost weight.<br /><br />Yesterday when I was online, my brother was preparing himself, putting nice clothes on to my accord. This is the second time this week I think he works during the morning, not at night. My memory is working horrible. I feel I have a better mind for faces than to remember things that happen or knowledge out of books. Without being ashamed, I shall tell you there are many many things I were taught at school that I no longer remember well, except the languages. That's all I were good at for being blessed with a language that is a mixture of countless other languages. Therefor, excelling in French and Spanish was never difficult. My native tongue contains a lot of French, Spanish, English, Portuguese words. <br /><br />We were once talking (yes, again about L.) about the movie I had seen that Micheal Moore directed (Bowling for Columbine). L. and I both agreed it was a fantastic and fabulous movie, especially the cartoons I found hilarious. I haven't seen Fahrenheit yet and while I was thinking about buying a dvd as he firstly said he would mail me a copy, he changed his mind and thought it was nice if I came over and we'd see it together! *smiles warmly* I really like that he suggested that and maybe we may. He already said he could come by car when he ever comes here (he is now, only he can't come nor is it the right moment for me) to take me and have a sleepover at his house. He's crazy. I do like how he behaves as a total gentleman. I wanted to visit him by train and come back the same day but it seems impossible as it's a long ride. That day I will try to be as much impressive as I can be and also very open, instead of shy (cutting is like alcohol, it makes me feel really confident from time to time). I will have to try hard my best since he also has a roommate. Great. He's really smart too. He is now the person who got me into politics. He showed me how corrupt everything is, how many things that happens in America is a set up and all bunch of lies. I already know about 9/11 being done by the government himself. But I never knew that Al-Qaida was a lie as it doesn't exist. L. said it gave the Americans a reason to start a war in Iraq. This is really so unfair. People are really hating the wrong people. Also during the Hurricane, it is said to be explosions, very weird ones. I can't believe the government is wanting to slay its own people. Some numerologists have calculated that Bush is a reincarnation of the devil. Not literally. But he has all qualities that shows how much he delays with help or does things to prevent freedom. As I preached the Gandhi method (I can't help being peaceful, I hate fighting really), L. was rather getting his guns and pistols ready to shoot the hell out of these politicians. He is rather angry and that's rather soft to say. He was furious. And I do agree with him totally. They had to pay for everything they have done to innocent people. It's really possible that soon worse things will happen, especially when the Americans see they are not a united, good and 'peaceful' nation. They are being directed and lied to by monsters... More reasons why I'd want to kill myself. Life has no meaning. I don't wish to live in a corrupted world.|||2||
1126760084|enigma|My psychologist|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I am refered to a female psychologist because of my past. When I went to the appointment last week Friday, I met up with a nice man who was there for the introduction. He has this very funny smile, I think even his neutral face expression is smilingly. He asked me a lot of questions and I tried to be as professional as I could be. But when I was asked about my life at home and the past, he made me remember something pretty bad. I thought it no longer hurt me. Al used to help me to feel comfortable about myself due such experiences, yet as I narrated I got teary eyed and cried, for no comprehensible reason. He offered me some tissues and a glass of water to calm myself down. We talked a bit and he said it was best for me to talk to a female psychologist instead of him. After things go better and I feel comfortable I may be able to return and we'd look further. My temporal psychologist is an old lady who is rather firm, yet sweet. She won't be around by next year anymore. She made space for me for a short period. I came out as a hopeless, helpless, 'exceptional' case. I told him if I had to rate my suicidial urges, it would be 8. He doesn't know I'm always on 10. I daily seek ways to step out. I didn't want to sound severe but decided to be honest about it. I asked him as well that I wanted to be hospitalized as I am sick of being home and he said he could put me somewhere for four weeks but then I'd have to go home anyway, it would serve no purpose. I sighed sadly. This is just a hasty tale of what happened last week.<br /><br />I came out of the office with red eyes and my mum thought they were forcing me to go back to school. I just nodded to give her something to talk about. If I say no, she will want to know what made my eyes so red. She ranted the whole way home how she was praying for me for things to go better, trying to console me. Rather kind. If she <i>only</i> knew what I was really doing. She would be upset as she thought the past was a closed case. No one should touch or talk about it. I also remember another experience I couldn't remember during the conversation. I will never know what some people had in mind with the (weird, unusual) things they do and I question myself if I didn't have a voice, in what kind of state I'd be in today. I don't want to know. Next week Friday I will have to go again. I like the area where it's situated, rather quiet and I like long busrides.<br /><br />Tomorrow another appointment with 'authorities'. *sighs sadly*<br /><br />My brother bought a scooter today and he's rather happy, so happy he demanded me to come and take a test ride with him. It's nice to see him in a good mood, at least he's not mad at me. The ride was awesome. Except my bum got numb and my knees sore and my thighs like they've been kept spread up with some ropes for a long period. I thought I was going to colapse. My legs can't bear my weight sometimes for being so skinny. They really are.<br /><br />L. knows I self-injure. I had to tell him. Imagine if we meet up and he sees my arms accidentally, I don't want him to bounce back or find me disgusting but then, he hadn't seen the rest of my body yet, especially my thighs.<br /><br />Will we ever come so far to meet each other? How much does he like me to say he wants to share the same cup of chocomilk with me? Will we ever come so far to be... inseparable?<br /><br />One day we talked, I woke up the next day with an urge to clean everything, so I sat and tear up all papers I had saved up creating mess. What's wrong with me? Now I keep staring at his pictures as they leave me so.... *fill in* He is so beautiful. So so beautiful. It's like admiring a nice piece of art, it's not mine... Maybe if I can afford it or am worth it, it can be mine. Maybe. There's always a maybe. *shivers of cold* I do miss him...|||2||
1126757703|enigma|The Bell Jar|Dearest diary,<br /><br />In bed I thought about you and had to come and write a little to you. I miss talking to you all the time but due lack of energy and lust, I have refrained from posting a journal.<br /><br />Today I was in the library, I brought back 11 books I have not read so well, except one about Borderline (only the suicidial part) and one about a gay guy (sm). I think male authors write so complicated. The only male writer I have liked a lot is Gabriel Garcia Marquez, the book <i>De amor y otros demoos</i>. It was a short but sad story between a teen and an older 'priest', if I recall it well. He was religious, I think. However it was a romance with age difference. Now I'm reading the Bell Jar, among with three more books I borrowed (including Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince). I feel envious of Esther or Sylvia for being such an intelligent being. I hate her intelligence and also that she was depressed. She was a tormented genius and I'm a tormented insignificant simpleton. It does read quickly, though I can't stand the life Esther led, normally, yet exciting like any student or normal teenager has in life. I blame it on myself, it's my fault I'm this way so I have no motive to complain. The only thing I could relate with Esther is that I also feel very pure and clean after a really hot shower. I feel so sacred and reborn. I feel more beautiful than I could ever feel on any other moment of a day. Not even being in love can come close to the pureness hot water gives me.<br /><br />I will cut this entry into two to three parts as lots has happened the past few days. I talk to L. but the contact failed a lot due his MSN being such an ass. He's now here, only not to visit me. He did give me a few stuff to 'so-call' entertain myself for the few days he won't be home,  before leaving frustratedly to bed. Rather sweet, I believe. No one ever gave me stuff to 'entertain' myself before, for during their absence. I told him I'm in love with him now. I know I shouldn't have done so but I felt if I told him I'd feel better, instead I felt sicker and excused myself to go offline. He said he was not going to respond on that phrase. <i>Why?</i> <br /><br />He was a good person but fixated on looks which I understand now, that it's a personal preference, only I don't share it with him. Some beauty can bring a lot of arrogance and that's all I saw when I took a walk down the street. A tight jeans screaming of self-confidence and vanity, yelling 'I'm hot and you will want me and I will not'. I feel low when I'm amongst people. I feel anything but beautiful. I compensate it with being charming, sometimes a bit funny, mainly very open and airy. With pretence as you can see. I also pretended a lot when talking to L. He could say hurtful things yet I pretended my heart was not wounded, that there was no injure leading me to ooze this red fluid I sometimes let go its way. I still like him. And if anyone would ask me today what I would wish for to stay alive. I'd wish for him to love me and want me. Only that isn't or may not be possible. I'm in peace with that. I know nothing goes the way I wish for or desire them to be. Neither do I want them to be. I want honesty and sincerity. I don't want to live a lie which I already did. We all did.<br /><br />This morning I visited my doctor to tell him I have horrible cramps (you have no idea, they have started coming again) and I had to protect my stomach by wearing a legging underneath my jeans or anything (shorts etc.) or else my tummy would start aching. It kept aching the entire morning, I think because the weather is getting colder. He prescribed me the same pills as before. I explained him how I cut myself as he could've seen me (he had me take my jumper off and expose my tummy several times for examination) and was worried how my blood dries so fast and goes really thick. He said he already knew about my cutting as he saw a few lines on my stomach and expressed I had a lot of 'nerves' and 'together we'd make me better'. He's hilarious. How could he, if he rarely <i>really</i> talks to me? For example, I got another anti-depressivant as Citalopram didn't work, except making me feel sick and lack apetite. If I don't ask him about the effect of the medication, he simply won't tell me. I have Efexor 75mg now. I will have to use it a few weeks before I see any result. The woman who gave me out my prescription told me that I had to use it for weeks before seeing the result and said the doctor would've told me that. I said no, he didn't what surprised her. We concluded I had to take initiative, to visit him when I felt any side effects or when it was working to get a new prescription. Of course I have to. It's my body, no one can take care of myself than me. So if I want to get better, I will have to run after people as always.<br /><br />I take my medication at once now. Multivitamines L. recommended me (for not eating so much), the pill, Duspatal :s (whatever the name is, for my intestine issues) and Efexor. I take them all at once. I'm not longer using chloordiazepoxide as they make me incredibly sleepy. The doctor also told me to, when I discussed the side effects of all the medication I got for my depression and 'anxiety'. I'm a pill abuser. Without doubt.|||2||
1126422711|enigma|Weakened|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Lots to tell you. Always happens when I stay a day without talking to you. I have missed you. You are a nice person to me as you always stay quiet, you don't judge me. You always listen and let me rant and rave. You are a good person and I like you very much. <br /><br />You know diary, life is so funny. It overwhelms me with emotions till I feel I'm slipping away from a mountain top, floating away in the air, till I fall down in a deep ocean, reaching the bottom. The floating part feels like freedom but the ocean, suffocating, enchaining. That's how I feel. But today I feel a bit okay... Not the best or bad. I feel alright. I can breathe although my heart is so sore, like someone is holding it too tight. You know who does. You can guess. L. does. <br /><br />We talked today and the day before I told Z. about how we didn't talk anymore after my outburst of emotions. It's like he didn't want me or to see me anymore. I'm so blind. I wished I could see behind the closed curtains. I never guess better things for myself than the worst. And now that he was around, I wished the worst upon myself. I wanted everyone I loved to own the best, but I didn't think I was. Therefor when I were in any commitment with someone, it would end. As I was nothing than a shell or a piece of junk, only because I thought so and they could not convience me different than to treat me the way I wanted to be treated. <br /><br />I'm head over heels in love with L. As I said, Z. recommended me to write him while I doubted but Z. is like a mother to me and I trust her with any advice she gives me. I did... and it took me so many hours to write a tiny email. It cost me so much effort. I manage to do things easily when I think it doesn't matter what others think as I will be dead soon anyway and hopefully it all will be forgotten. He already knew or got the hints that I liked him. *sighs deeply* And he likes me too, he says. Isn't that lovely? To me it's a relief... I feel better though I will cut tonight. You have no idea how much I care about him and I know how he looks too. He is so beautiful. I wanted to be beautiful for him also and it made me sad, though he kept telling me in many manners that he likes me and would appreciate us to continue talking with each other. Just like M. he thought he probably would be too old for me and never replied back. I wished I could make myself pretty, I'd want to be with him always but now I don't want him to see me. I didn't even want to see my face in the mirror when I went to the bathroom to fill my bottle with water. I'm ashamed of my body, its illnesses and limitations. It's possible we'll just stay friends (I wanted to, though it fucking slashed my heart apart) as he lives far away... He talked about next year, that he'd move back where I live. But next year I may not be alive. So, I guess I will see him most likely once in my life. I want to see him for sure. I want to prepare myself... as I want to impress him. I badly need to see him. Both of us were distant... and we have not ever, one moment said these words full out that we were in love with each other. Other than 'liking a lot', but he knows... And I'm okay. I want to hug him so badly, and comb his hair and kiss his back. I felt softened but he weakened me a lot. I like it but I won't or shan't repeat the word love again.|||2||
1126296252|enigma|Appointment|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Over half an hour I am heading to the psychologist centre with my mother who still believes I am going to have a job conversation. A few minutes the social worker who came here for her, just left. I hate talking... but she's a really nice person and pregnant. She came all over from where she is (she works at the station) on a bike with such a huge belly. She's Morrocon, definitely muslim but kindhearted. My mum seems to get really shy and childish in company of other people. Or maybe she's sensitive as she tends to try to smile or lays back in the chair, rubbing her forehead. I always tell her to keep emotions out of professional issues. The social worker was here to help her and not to talk about the neighbour annoying her (no, she could not resist talking about it). All the woman replied was... 'Hey, maybe if he lives alone he will leave'. My mum is someone I won't or can never understand. I want to get out of this life with my relatives. My mother has been good to me, like I said before despite her flaws. But I've gotten tired of living together with them. I feel really uncomfortable. She is so attached to me that she tends to follow me everywhere. Of course she can't let me go to this appointment alone.<br /><br />It was nice that I was going to have a conversation with someone who was going to help me... but I know and don't want it to last. I don't want a long life. I do not wish for it. My greatest and dearest wish is to die. I want to feel the coldness take over me, leaving me unmovable. I feel like I want to be hospitalized. Firstly, I will be alone for awhile and be able to see that this life isn't a dream. To escape the routine of the relatives around me and secondly it gave me the chance to hurt myself without my mother going crazy. I'd have people who could take care of the bad cuts... I want to bleed badly... I want to bleed every day. I want gaps in my body that keep on oozing all my mournings. I want to feel cleaned of the negative emotions. I want to rest. All these days I've cut but I can't or won't go deeper as it will be noticeable for my family. And they already were making me feel aweful. Still I'd like to be there to rest and come to myself... I'm so... unbelievable exhausted.<br /><br />I don't mean much to my family. I always had to agree with their wishes. My brother is the type of guy who comes home like he's my father and always, always sends me out to go shopping. If I did a wrong shopping, I may have to go again. Sometimes I walk up and down up to three times a day. I'm sure everyone knows my face quite well outside there and will definitely wonder where I am, 'the tall, skinny black girl who was always shopping on her own or sometimes in company of her mother', when I'm gone. *scratches itchy scars*<br /><br />I am not talking to L. nor is he talking to me. It's something inevitable. Whenever he talks about himself, we are remembering the bad things he has done in the past or is doing (I keep on telling him to not smoke if he appreciates life so much and wants to live long), but at the end the conversation often leads to me as if a gun is being pointed at me. Then there's so much I have been holding inside and can't release. And he can not make me feel any better, especially if he starts talking about 'help' just like anybody else. He's not special anymore though I still felt attracted to him. It will disappear, probably just my flesh being weak. I saw him online yesterday and this morning and he didn't even greet me, or come and say hi as he always does. He doesn't care or maybe he thinks I'm mad or upset with him. I feel so much ambivalence. I want him at the same time I don't. <br /><br />I will miss writing here again when I go to this psychologist. I feel frightened talking to men. You won't believe me diary, but most men I've talked to I only did because I felt something for them or else I wouldn't. I can't name anyone who ever talked to me out of friendliness. Oh, D. He was in love with me but I am not impressed by him. He was also shorter than me and is of my age while I prefer older people. Or you really have to be very special for me to pay attention to you. I am guessing what the psychologist will ask. I decided to bring the medication I'm using with me, as their names are too difficult to pronounce sometimes. I like taking chlordiazepoxide. I got my last dosis yesterday as I ran out of the other package. It's like eating m&m but this one's color is soft light between green and blue. They only make me sleepy, I get worked up anyway. I don't know what I'm talking... there's so much I want to tell that I talk in between, irregularly... I want to sleep. I can't wait to sleep. <br /><br />This morning I was up because my brother demanded me (throwing my blankett off my body) before he went to work, to cash money from his bankaccount before 6am or else they'd take it (debts he has). My mother went with me. I was rather a cooly nice morning. I love this hour... The streets are so quiet, and it's like the world is dead. It's a total freedom. I was thinking to live with someone someday who'd consider the night as the day and the day as night in everything we do. Just to have the world as ours at such hours... the quietness, the tranquility. I once tried to change my sleeping patterns but it's hard as I have to keep myself to daily activities. <br /><br />I promise I will write more when I'm back. My other hostess looks furious. She luckily does see me as someone worthy to be hosted (I comment on her entrees and even awarded her just as I like visiting her, do I have anything else to do?). Out of the many people she has hosted, only a few will go with her on the next domain including me but I doubt I will be around by that time. As it's probably in December/January. I don't expect to live longer than that. <br /><br />Do wish me goodluck.|||2||
1126175430|enigma|Going to bed|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Half past three in the morning and I want to write awhile to you before I take in citalopram and join the emptiness that awaits me in the bed. I feel like cutting myself forever and keep on bleeding to be able to face each single day. If I could, I wouldn't wish death. I would not have the effort to wish for it as I was already being weakened but beautifully and gently. It wiped away the pain, it took the soreness inside my heart away. Calmed the messed up cells in my brain. I'd be okay.<br /><br />I will ask my psychologist Friday why my blood dries so fastly. It does, fastly. In not more than a few seconds my blood becomes thick to later get hard. Is it that I am dehydrating? Does it has anything to do with it? I can't wait to die. I just can't wait. I kind of don't have much to tell you than I was wasting my time online, trying to work on the website of this community. It consumed me more. But I was determinate to get it done and it prevented to grief over people not worth grieving for. Sleep tight and till tomorrow when I feel more like talking, tonight I don't.|||2||
1126166191|enigma|M.?|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I like Lisa Marie Presley's voice. I think she's nice and reminds me of me. Nothing has changed since two days ago. I'm still the same old me. I know what's inside, could it be I cut myself up badly... I am going to do it right now as I'm very sad. I feel like yelling aloud but we know I can't do that. How long will I be able to withstand living here? I have gotten tired of everyone... So tired. No one is different, they are all the same. Like the word fuck written but in another handwriting, it made no difference. The word was fuck and would stay fuck regardless of the signature. <br /><br />I'm not in love. Just seeking a shoulder to cry out all the pain and he made me cry, and now I wanted what I did best. I told him I'd see him tomorrow. It was like his words were spilling alcohol in my wounds. I felt useful, sick, so dumb and ill. Someone who can't be helped. I never listen to myself. Lie, just lie... Pretend you're happy dumbass. Do not talk about your darkness, no one cares into listening. I want to die... I'm going to cut before the urge slips away.<br /><br />[It's nice to bleed again but I will only bleed better one day when I'm on my own]<br /><br />And I -with all my heart- hated L. I won't <b>EVER</b> talk to him again (another lie). As if he would miss me. I am just a stupid, silly talk buddy. He does not longer exist in my world.<br /><br />I believe truthfully that M. did it. I was thinking about it. The day he sent the two blank smses, he had called me a few days before and had to hang up because he was running out of credits. Though we only kept making the conversation longer. I love talking to him because we were both suicidial and he had a very comforting voice. No matter what he said, I would feel so much better and he also made me feel small and fragile. L. wasn't, so he will never get my point or understand me since he's just a happy bird. I think he got sick... and couldn't call me and maybe he did something to himself. If he killed himself they'd investigate the case and take in his mobile. No, he's not dead. He is hospitalized. I'm very saddened... I want to be with him to support him and cuddle him and support him. I hope he always knows I'm with him, no matter what.|||2||
1126002868|enigma|Muteness|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Life is pain. Life is a needle the doctor shoved in my flesh in hope to numb my senses but it didn't entirely work. Life is being alone. No one hears you when you're crying. They don't. People are becoming zombies and you know diary, I am terrified. I still feel but others don't. I pretend I'm a zombie but when they walk away to their destination, I turn around and I cry my eyes out. Why do I endure this? Why do I share a life somewhere I don't belong to be? Diary, I feel so much hatred for myself for the appreciation that I do not have anywhere. No one likes me. This sounds really pathetic but it is as I am spelling it for you letter for letter: N O O N E L I K E S M E. <br /><br />Sometimes I no longer care about dictating parts of my life that happened. I was screwed when I was young, tried to be screwed in my childhood but it didn't happen because I started using my brains. No, I'm not someone with a high IQ. I think I'm pretty dumb, an imbecile. I tried and god, I've tried to be proud of my dumbness. At least something but it's nothing the world can accept from me. The world hates me and like I mentioned before I want to self-injure tonight. But I can't, something inside me highly screams no. It tells me to stop and wait some other time. It tells me that cutting over people is the sickest, dirtiest thing I could ever give in to. I should only do it when I feel narcistic, when I am lustful, when I feel pleasure. People don't or won't give a shit. They all want you to get screwed because that's what they wish for theirself. Why bother wasting my time with them? I won't cut tonight diary, I will listen to my innervoice. It was often right. I may hear voices but they never told me to kill myself or hardly, I don't know. They were friendly ghosts, who always told me to do whatever I wanted, what I inner mostly wanted. Not otherwise. Otherwise they'd blame me and I'd feel crappy. Very crappy.<br /><br />People. How much do I despise to live amongst you. Some of you were nice. But I hated people in general. They never understand you but were always there to pierce you through the ground, with the thought you'd reach the inside, the magma and burns yourself into ashes of nothingness. Everytime I talked to them I hated myself with each breath that I take, with all that I do, all the pieces and dots of myself. I hated myself beyond words so much more. That if it was possible to create a bomb, it would shatter me into unrecognizable pieces and blood spread all over your world. Over your beautiful lie. Your world that is a lie. Your lie of a world. Your masquerade.<br /><br />I hate myself so badly that I <i>shall</i> die. Either of a death chosen by my own hands, nature or an accident. I will die however and that thought soothed the agitated nerves inside me. Though I didn't feel I deserved death. In no way did I want to be with those people who also resided here on this planet once. I want to be N O T H I N G. I want to be unplugged like I never existed. If God exists I want him to scrap my name out of his list. I'm not going to cut tonight. I will not... but I will save this rage and turn it into something that may be useful in the future to create my final end.<br /><br />I am in love with L. I badly am... and all I did was provoke him laughter and say gentle words to him. I tried stimulating him into doing whatever his heart wishes to achieve in this crazy messed up life he saw as precious. I sometimes wanted his agression, other times I thought it didn't fit the person he wished to be. I have always struggled with my dark and light side. I can be very destructive and the next day a guru preaching a better world and place. I am a drugaddict on lsd or whatever drugs that causes hallucinations as everything I felt was nonsense but I believed all the bad ones. I'm surrounded by it, I live in it. I know he may never read this but I wished he knew I am in love with him... All I could think was having his arms around me, just awhile... even for a second. I would die happy... I would die knowing I accomplished something. Someone once saw me in the crowd and kept looking at me and did not forget me. But no one sees me. I might as well be a ghost... I shall never speak again. Except to you dear diary, no one will hear from me again. They shall be air just as I am for them.<br /><br />My life from now on will be selfishly and a complete muteness till I get what I deserve, what I most desire. The day I am a perished thought, nothing than a feather floating high lost in air, into nowhere till it reaches the stillness and the coldness of the ground. Suicide felt that way. (I can fly and bang, you're down) 'My soul will be free but my body forever cold'.|||2||
1125995742|enigma|Fucked|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I'm so suicidial tonight... for no reason at all. Just comments L. makes and I find myself reacting like someone who has someone else standing with highheels on her toes. I want to slice myself tonight. I want to bleed myself dry... I want the blood to keep pouring on forever. I don't want to live... but I have to wait. I have to be patience. Too bad my batteries are low or else music would've comforted me. I think I am so angered and so mad at myself as I always feel like telling the truth on the tip of my tongue but I don't want to tell him for the disaster he may cause. I want to feel him hugging me and find me pretty... I am really so miserably sad. Like a pathetic whore. I am a whore, I am. And I will get thinner, I will. Just to punish myself. I need to suffer as much as I can make myself to. And I will cut tonight, I will and get drowsy by my medication and swim away in my empty, stupid, hollow dreams.<br /><br />I think I will end up in tears tonight till I fall asleep.|||2||
1125978142|enigma|Bleed dry|Blood is a nice word and it's a nice thing too. Maybe the nicest thing of life I held joy in. Playing with blood, instead of those kids who sit playing with sand and building sandcastles. I hoped to create a masterpiece (artwork) but I've never bled enough and nor am I an artist. Another poem, laugh if you like (I never make sense or am boring too, yes) or go silent. I am with you. (P.S: I had to use a diccionary to translate the Dutch words into English, don't think I'm smart or that I'm an idiot, I'm no English).<br /><br /><b>Breathing in and out<br />can not refresh <br />memories<br />that are stuck<br />in my braincells<br />creating a personal<br />hell none can see<br />to understand<br /><br />I want to dissect myself<br />from throat to navel<br />and bleed dry<br />till the state of void<br />In hope to become apathy himself<br />a hom-dai-ed wight<br />or an aged body<br />a skeleton conversion<br />of nothingness<br />simplified as nameless<br />Resulting into an abnormality<br />a daily system far<br />from sanity<br /><br />But everything this felon feels<br />is a classification of the surreal<br />Still it would've been disposed of all<br />that's been seen with chilling eyes<br />And that what was considered beauty,<br />what of a loss would that be?<br />If the chance existed<br />the end, we called death<br />would not leave one<br />single memory intact</b><br /><br />Rereading it, I kind of like it... Written yesterday while I was feeling so sick. I was trying to figure a type of mummy and remembered the Hom-Dai curse from the Mummy movie. *smiles* I liked that movie, in case you wonder what that is. I'm not sure if it's a true Egyptian curse (of the old ways/days). If I knew I wouldn't remember today, my mind is so oblivious. It's a punishment and well, I wish that upon myself.|||2||
1125975647|enigma|Affirmations of the day|I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food I hate food  I hate food <br /><br />I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry I'm not hungry  I'm not hungry <br /><br />I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine  I'm totally fine I'm totally fine <br /><br />I can survive without eating I can survive without eating I can survive without eating I can survive without eating  I can survive without eating I can survive without eating  I can survive without eating I can survive without eating  I can survive without eating I can survive without eating  I can survive without eating I can survive without eating <br /><br />I am not weak I am not weak I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  I am not weak I am not weak  <br /><br />I'm happy for what I am I'm happy for what I am I'm happy for what I am I'm happy for what I am  I'm happy for what I am I'm happy for what I am  I'm happy for what I am I'm happy for what I am  I'm happy for what I am I'm happy for what I am  I'm happy for what I am I'm happy for what I am  I'm happy for what I am I'm happy for what I am  <br /><br />Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat Not being a slight bit fat|||2||
1125975226|enigma|Small suicide note|Wrote it yesterday, wondering what my last word would be aside my dead body... I will write more in the future as I think of good ones. *thinks it's like she's preparing a speech for her graduation day* As if...<br /><br /><b>I do not feel I owe you, the world an apology<br />In fact, you all made living harder for me<br />Either I come in Heaven or Hell<br />(who can ever tell?)<br />or in a complete emptiness<br />At least I'm not longer <br />living in this mess</b><br /><br />I was going to add: but thanks for the delicious muffins, they were really yummy. I'm crazy...|||2||
1125972498|enigma|Sleeps substituting eating, right?|Dearest diary,<br /><br />So, I went on sleeping when my brother threw me off ('Let me see something for awhile', is his usual comment to get me off the computer). I was working on a new layout for the community I 'used' to run since I don't pay attention to it anymore. I do for the website as still there are people submitting stories. I am better in creating banners than anything else. I am trying to be a bit creative... I will probably be satisfied with the result by tomorrow though I have so much to do. This week is going to be busy.<br /><br />I woke up by the movements of my mother seeking through my stuff. She said my eye balls went from white to my brown pupils, like I'm so alerted that it must be that I was trying to conceal something. She's funny. Obviously I will. I have some stuff she needn't to see, right aside of my bed and if she goes in those bags, I'm fucked. All I did was hiding these 'important materials' with other useless writings to hide the danger of what I had in my possession. As she was holding my poems books she was saying how she never read them whenever she found them, as she thinks they are depressive and doesn't want more worries than she already has. <i>You do well, mum</i>.<br /><br />But another of her usual comment was: 'How do you plan to have someone if you're so messy?' in an angrily voice as she was trying to bring order into my chaos (I really seldom clean up my room). I didn't say anything but replied inside: 'That's the point, I don't care anymore, so why should I bother?' That is why I have not washed my hair in months or sometimes don't shower in days (except when I <i>have</i> to go to an appointment). That's why I hardly change my clothes, that's till they start feeling uncomfy. This is another bad habbit of mine: I sleep in my clothes and wake up, going out without changing them. The only thing I do daily is brushing my teeth but not without effort. See how depression is making me so lifeless and careless? Of course I wouldn't be if I had to see someone, I'd take care of myself. But this has worsened after M. disappeared. I used to pay attention to myself. Only after his departure I gave up. I'm not relevant to anyone. I'm now and then 'in love' (what I'd rather call a vivid hallucination), to later find out the person is not satisfying me in the way I want to. I do sound like a borderline girl. I start with enthusiasm but one bad mistake, one annoyance and I may end up putting you aside. That is if you're not my official boyfriend. If you are, I cling myself despite you being a bastard. I don't want to loose you and I do everything in my power to have you stay but if you want to leave or choose so, I'd let go. As again: I don't care. You don't own anything on this planet, you won't ever. Remember always you have to die, then you'd be put in your grave empty-handed. <br /><br />I lied to my mother - I am so sorry I have to be this way - that a good friend (my best classmate) is wanting me to stay with her for three days but that's an excuse for me to be away in the future. In reality, I haven't spoken to her in years. The last time I heard from her was when she mailed me a present for my birthday (really sweet of her). I wanted to write her this year but can't have her questioning me about life. So I'm forced to isolate myself from everyone, regardless of them being meaningful to me. <br /><br />My mother has been talking about that the whole day. <i>You know, diary</i>. Always the same stuff. She finds it hard to be away from me. We're Siamese twins. She can't live without me. I do care about her as in many cases, if I were with other mothers, they would've told me harshly to find solutions on my own. Actually, my whole life would've been different. I'd be more independent. She's been a good help though, sometimes supportive (like she also hopes for me that M. will appear, but not if she knew he was so much older, would she??) and she's often nurturing though she tends to blame you along so you will feel guilty instead of soothed. <br /><br />She told my brother about me going to be away and his reaction was like: 'Yeah, she should stay there too', like he doesn't want me home. It sucks if your brothers don't give a rat ass about you, doesn't it? To me it hurts like hell, like someone is mawning my heart or something. Bad example. I'm not thinking rationally... It's like someone is digging a sword hard inside till it comes out at the other end. It really hurts me deep. I don't know why I am like this. I feel sometimes happy when my brother wants me to go out with him as then we talk and he reveals stuff he wouldn't tell me at home for being in a bad mood. He is generous and gives me money (which I totally appreciate as I really need it right now, I'm saving them all up). He's also very funny, both my brothers are but sometimes in a really sarcastic way (or bullying). I wonder if any of them will care when I'm gone? I kind of feel sad right now but I should feel apathy. I always tell myself I don't care, why do I have these feelings no matter how hard I try to become a gigant rock like L. is. But then men are harder and coolier. L. was freezing on the outside (I told him he's like 4000 degree below zero) but so soft and tender when you got to know him... I feel lost. I feel lost that I have no meaning to anyone. If I did, then it's a loss anyway (do I know I have any meaning to anyone, today? So...) and I still wouldn't have stayed. I don't believe anything people tell me. The mirror showed a monster, I could see her. Thus people were lying out of pity.<br /><br />Al. was in my dream also, writing me an email. I know or think she really misses me and I do too. I miss her, she was my best friend. We could talk and swear with each other so much. It only intimidated me when I was joking and she'd feel like I sliced her finger off. She was immediately on fire and mad. She was a good person though, and inspiring. I won't ever forget her as she is also my first relationship with a girl. How could I? I will still leave the option to her to overwin her pride to call me instead of mailing me. I'd like to hear her again and know how she honestly feels about our break up. Happier or worse? I think she seemed to be sorry and was telling me she didn't mean it. I don't dream of her so often and I hardly think of her. Thus when I do see her in my sleep, it's always a sign that she's wanting or feeling something.|||2||
1125944591|enigma|My weight obsession|<b>Height/length</b>: 1.78m//5'8<br /><b>Current weight with clothes on:</b> 58kg//127.9lbs<br /><b>Current weight undressed:</b> 57.2kg//126.1lbs<br />(beated you Isole)<br /><br />Dearest diary,<br /><br />There is so much I have to tell you. Where should I start? Let's start with the dream I had this morning. It was actually rather funny when I woke up. One of the rarest times I actually remember a whole junk of dream, well... sometimes. I was on a computer outside on a road (funny, isn't it? I told you so!) and I saw an old muslim man coming in my direction, squeezing his balls which was a sign that he was planning something with me. He was going to rape me. I saw many children around me out of a sudden as if they were supporting this man (they were boys) and I immediately reacted grabbing something that looked like a stick but not strong enough and started hitting all of them. It was so much fun! Never in my life have I raged in a ruthless way, regardless of them being children. I poked them in their stomach, hit them on their head while I screamed loudly: 'HELP!' I managed to runaway where there are people... Memories I do not hold after I were in company. I wonder what this dream means? I do find it weird because many times or a few times in my dreams I'd just let myself get raped, knowing it wasn't real. This time it felt that way and I defended myself with all power I had within me. I woke up laughing. Me fighting? I hardly ever fight, except slapping and hitting my brother back when he's mad at me. There were another few dreams but they aren't worth sharing. You do find it funny, don't you? *laughs with you*<br /><br />Yesterday was a horror and my brother decided to call me lazy. The ignorantic fucking moron. Glare deep inside me and you will see even you may choke on the unbearable stinky drought as I were starving myself the entire day. I think I managed to survive without food (including fluids) for more than 24hours. I started the night before and by Sunday 8pm I couldn't resist any longer. My stomach hurt incredibly much, I was dizzy. I was holding myself against the walls and doors to walk my way through the house. I was feeling very, very ill. It's like I went in a day from a teenager to an elderly with no strength. I will <b><u>not</u></b> ever starve myself this way again. My mother was constantly worried about me as she sat accompanying me, asking me to eat something while I - headstrong as I am - refused. <br /><br />I was very sleepy and that all sucked my energy as I hadn't eaten. I must've taken three to four naps behind each other. Even I slept the whole day, at night I felt sleepy anyway. It must be the medicine, partially. I can't recall me yawning repeatedly before I got on medication. I know I have a bad sleeping pattern too. I usually sleep after midnight but I feel fit after a cold shower if I had woken up early. However, I didn't shower yesterday as I didn't have that much energy. At the end of the day I ate 4 slices of brown bread and sliced pieces of melons whilst I felt the gasses attacking me. I had to sit up straight to burp as I thought I was going to throw up. I also sense my stomach being unable to hold much food down. I tried relaxing lying down on the couch, watching Scary movie and Ocean's Eleven with my brother who felt like joining me. I felt a bit energetic again, at least less sick, though I am still recovering. I can feel it in my muscles, it's like they are stiff. As you read in the previous entry, I am on a diet now. More fasting and not longer doing starvations. It's sad that I almost failed. I used to starve myself without much difficulty easily before, why not anymore? I had to skip my anti-depressivants and anxiety pills, out of fear they may make me feel worse. I may take them tomorrow.<br /><br />Also: <b>Happy birthday, my Sweetheart</b>.|||2||
1125910509|enigma|Diet|*No sugar<br />*No fat<br />*No muffins<br />*Sometimes milk<br />*Sometimes eggs<br />*Must eat fruit<br />*Must eat vegetables<br />*Must buy vitamine pills<br />*Water<br />*Sugarless tea<br />*No junkfood<br />*No meat nor fish<br />*Loads of cereals<br />*Never drink sodas<br />*Some juices allowed (fresh ones)<br /><br />3 meals a day, each. Must weigh 53-55 in a maximum of two weeks.|||2||
1125907566|enigma|Wish|I want to quit being a human...|||2||
1125848402|enigma|Sleeps|When I fall asleep, it's like I'm temporarily gone. In the sense that I have no idea that I were sleeping when I wake up. Or perhaps my memory is bad for me to remember anything. I will visit my doctor tomorrow with a lie. But actually more because I want to talk to someone. I miss have someone replying to me. Last night I talked to a spider that was walking on the ceiling. I was telling it to go away but it wouldn't listen. I decided to move him away with an incense-holder. Instead it jumped on me and was later creeping up the curtain. I sighed as I continued glaring at it walking in circles over the ceiling till I fell asleep.<br /><br />I weigh myself daily. I think I hate the scales. I stood on them and went from 59 to 69kg! I was like 'WHAT THE HELL??' Now I am going to <b>NOT</b> eat anything. Digital scales are seriously fucked up. A normal scale would show precisely how much you weigh. Or else I will weigh myself outside in those restrooms, they have these scales stuff where you can see if you're on a good weight or not. Somehow I weigh 57.7kg now. That is, when the scales is feeling like showing me the truth. But hell I'm being 69, it must be crazy. I'm not even that fat. Everything is slim on me beside my thighs, or my head may be big. *laughs sadly*<br /><br />Yesterday the guests came. My brother's girlfriend is now in the bedroom together (door closed) making loads of commotion. My mother begged me to come and greet her mother (she came with her parents, except the father isn't her biological one but her mother's boyfriend). It would be nice to meet her after I heard the stories of my brother that she also listen to 'hardcore' music (that means Linkin Park, Metallica, and you know, those type of stuff) and had several marks on her arms. Maybe we could relate but I don't want to mix with anyone new. I just hope they won't wake up seeing me here... *hears them coming out of the bedroom as I feared, sighs*<br /><br />I will tell my doctor I have terrible sleeping problems, so he may give me Dormicum. He may not. But I will go and have a chat with him and perhaps tell him I feel rather lonely. My brother is annoying me now, sprinkling water on me. I can't write any further as now I'm very intimidated. The only moment she (my brother's girlfriend) sees me, is when I'm online writing my journals.|||2||
1125805703|enigma|Nothing|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I wished I were dead. Why do I wish that? There's always a why. I don't have the energy to give you a detailed description. I feel incredibly lonely. So lonely that I talk loudly to myself untill I start crying because I know how unfuctionable I am in this world. I can't be anyone. I am not pretty, I don't have big boobs, or a big booty, I don't have a small nice figure, I don't have long soft hair nor green eyes (like it would make such a big change). I am angry that I'm so insignificant. I am an artwork people would look with eyes that scream 'ew'. I found a knife in the kitchen last night but it was dull when I tried using it on my arm. Just awhile ago I hid a bottle in a towel to break it. All it resulted in was loads of noise the neighbours below would hear. It simply wouldn't break for me to cut myself with it.<br /><br />My mother found a bloody bandage. I don't care. She's not longer angering with me. It's like she saw a book about tarot or something she isn't familiar with but doesn't really like. All she commented was: 'I don't want you to bleed dry on me, or get me into trouble'. I replied she should stop messing around in my stuff even this bandage was in my jacket. I used it when going to the psychologist. I self-injured and didn't want it to be noticeable therefor I covered it in a bandage. You know also what I like, diary? When the bandage gets sticky when you don't use bandaids. I no longer remove it carefully but I just ripped it off when its sticky on my arms to make the wounds open and bleed again. I feel so much strength, so powerful when I bleed. I feel like I'm a God. He can't decide or make me stop doing this, it's so pleasant, it simply feels so good. That is sometimes...<br /><br />I slept almost the whole day and now I weigh 58.1kg. Fabulous. It's because I haven't eaten much. With clothes on it's 59.5kg. I feel better than I've ever felt in my life. My waist is shrinking, my legs are getting longer. Only my shoulder bones above my chest are starting to show and around my hips a bit, but not so bad as my shoulder though. My mother seems to copy me too. She now lives by the rule: 'When you eat, I too will eat'. Poor her. She's 62.7kg, I noticed, without clothes on. Not that I saw her naked, she just had a towel wrapped around herself when I was checking her weight.<br /><br />She told me while I was lying in bed thinking about nothing, that if one day one of us (her children) came to die, she would also die. Great, isn't it? She simply couldn't let go off me. She can't see that I'm now an adult, not a child anymore. I am not a baby, I'm an own identity. I am only related to her by blood, but I should be able to create my own life. You understand now why I was never given the chance to mature, it's obvious. <br /><br />The guests are about to arrive. And I think and miss talking to L. I know this is a total fantasy and I love it, really. I know if I told him the truth that I were in love with him, he'd say it's impossible because we hardly know each other. But for my feelings we did and I wanted to cuddle him so badly. After the past relationship he had that broke his heart, I wanted to cuddle him, kiss him and show him that he's beautiful and a wonderful person. I adore him, though not as much as M. M. meant <i>a lot</i> to me and that I didn't adore him as much was because he was a bit avoidant of me (refering to L.'s 'superficialness' from time to time). I got a bit angry with him yesterday when I asked him who he's close to as in talking. He was mentioning other people than me that I got so angry! I asked: 'What am I to you then? Just nothing? Just a talk buddy to kill time?'. He replied: 'Of course not, you're more than a talk buddy to me'. I wonder what I am?<br /><br />I'm so unfortunate that I'm ugly. I only feel pretty now when I'm starving myself. I wished I could pick my eyeballs out and put green ones, or make my hair long. Or give myself a shiny skin, then everyone, the whole world would love me and want me. But then, they'd only be fascinated by the shell... I will always want to have someone love me for me, not for my looks. It will never work that way. But some internet love were lucky when they knew each other and when they met and saw both had good lucks, they only were blessed with a succesful relationship. (Now I can brag with my beautiful girl or guy) Looks matter so much. And I want to be taken out of this story without people ever noticing I were gone.|||2||
1125768850|enigma|Zin van het leven|Wat is het zin van het leven? Waarom ben ik hier? Dat zijn vragen die altijd in mijn hoofd rondtollen alsof ze ooit een plaats, een hoek zullen vinden en zich daar intrekken. In andere woorden, dat ze ooit een antwoord zullen hebben, alleen geloof ik daar zo niet in. Ik kijk altijd naar anderen, omdat ze altijd beter zijn dan ik en vraag me alleen af wat ik hier doe als ik hen niets kan aanbieden dan psychische klachten die overheid alleen geld kosten. Ik werk niet, ik doe niets. Ik help zelfs niet in het huishouden omdat ik zo zwak en energieloos ben, al sinds mijn 10e. Ik dacht dat ik ergens zat terwijl er veel borden gewassen dienden worden. Mijn vader werd nijdig en beveelde me het afwas te doen. Daar stond ik, met een gebroken hart dat ik zo werd aangesproken als een dier, en op een gegeven moment voelde ik hoe mijn benen me niet konden dragen, ik werd heel duizelig en mijn maag zuur. Het is normaal dat we soms niet alles hadden waardoor zulke dingen gebeurden. Alleen toen liet hij mij pauzeren om mijn moeder verder te laten gaan. Ik kan het niet herinneren, echter was ik een slappeling, een zwakkeling.<br /><br />Ik heb een hekel aan mensen, soms zelfs aan mensen die ik als vrienden betitel als ze me pijn doen en dat doen ze altijd. Ik ben ultra-gevoelig en kwetsbaar voor gebaren en woorden. De enige persoon waarvan ik kan houden zonder voorwaardes is mijn grote liefde, mijn vriend. Maar die is er niet, die is plotsklaps uit mijn leven verdwenen zoals ik altijd al heb aangenomen. Ik ben niet waard om op lange termijn bij te blijven, vooral geliefdes. Vrienden vermijd ikzelf liever, ze zullen me toch nooit goed kennen. Velen willen niet horen wat ik te zeggen heb zonder 'houd op met domme dingen te doen, of doe dit niet want je bent belangrijk voor je'. Sinds wanneer waren we Siamese tweelingen? Waarom kunnen ze me niet aankijken en me gewoon steunen in mijn wensen ook al willen ze dat niet? Echter hoeft dat niet want ik heb geen steun nodig dan van degene die hetzelfde voelen als ik en die hebben me meer geholpen dan ik ooit heb kunnen denken.<br /><br />Ik houd zielsveel van M. maar ben tegelijkertijd verliefd op L. geworden. Hij weet het niet ondanks de talloze hints die ik hem gaf en hij zou mijn gevoelens nooit beantwoorden, wat me ook niet veel kan schelen. Alleen soms heb ik de drang, de lust om naar hem toe te gaan en uit te vinden dat hij ook verliefd op me is, iets als liefde op het eerste gezicht en dat hij mij dan dichtbij zich trekt om de vuur in ons te proberen te kalmeren. Ondanks dat ik hem niet persoonlijk kende, verlangde ik naar een lichamelijk contact met hem. Het doet me zeer dat het nooit het geval zal zijn. Misschien deed ik beter een minirokje te dragen en op de Keileweg te gaan staan op zoek naar liefde, hoewel het me meer geld zou brengen dan een genegenheid van welke soort. En wie zou iemand willen die zich verminkt had? Ofschoon het maar vage littekens aan het worden zijn. Het is een kwelling om je in te houden terwijl je iemand liefhebt. M. was er niet en ik rekende niet meer dat hij zou komen, indien wel, dan zou ik L. proberen te vergeten. Ik hield en houd van M. dus ik zou hem zonder meer vergeten, ik <b><u>zou</u></b> hem vroeg of laat vergeten.<br /><br />Ik ga maar verder met het nutteloos en nietszijn, of ja... verderslapen of rondhangen of wat eten. Ik weeg inmiddels 58.8kg zonder kleren aan, met kleren 60.5kg. Ik moet meer eten laten staan. Hoe dunner mijn lichaam is, hoe beter het zal zijn om mezelf te vergiftigen denk ik. Ik neem ook geen vitamines maar L. heeft het me aangeraden te doen. Hij zegt dat dun niet mooi is, echter wat kan het mij schelen? Ik heb niemand in mijn leven. Ik ben hier om niets te zijn en zo zal het zijn. Ik zal vervagen en niemand zou me ooit nog kennen of om me kunnen treuren, vooral zoals Leena zei in haar dagboek, die mensen die jou kenden zullen ook doodgaan en dus zul je praktisch nooit geleefd hebben in andermans ogen. En dat is waarnaar ik streef. Naar een volledige apathie, om op te lossen in het niets. Waar goed en kwaad niet meer bestaan.<br /><br /><B>P.S: I may not be here untill Sunday evening or Monday, guests again. I will miss the blogging, it's my life, all I have left aside of music...</b>|||2||
1125709412|enigma|Kon bloed voor altijd druppelen|Soms voel ik me gemarteld, teneergeslagen en verslagen. Het gaat gepaard met intens veel pijn en verdriet, met een grote drang tot schreeuwen opdat alles zal ophouden en ik in een normaal, rustige conditie kan verkeren, echter kun je normaal zijn als je een verleden had, een geheim met je meedroeg die je overal met je meesleepte, in jouw ziel? Ik voelde de tranen in mijn keel stoken. Ik had pijn echter weigerde ik nogmaals te huilen zoals ik dat al te vaak doe. Ik weiger me als een mens te gedragen. Ik wil anders zijn, ik wil niemand zijn. Als ik kon kiezen hoe hier te komen op Aarde dan zou ik liever hebben gekozen om een voorwerp te zijn, een stok, een stuk glasscherf, een stoel of een auto. Die dingen voelen niet, ze klagen niet, ze zeuren en huilen ook niet. Ik zou alles in mijn bereik - als het kon - willen doen om ophouden te voelen. Ik wil niets voelen dan het nietszijn, dan een niet-existentie. Ik weet hoe veel malen ik mezelf heb herhaald, echter was dit waarnaar ik het meest verlangde. <br /><br />Er waren tijden dat ik naar de liefde van mijn leven zocht want hij/zij is iemand die bij je blijft en is. Het is iets anders dan een vriend. Soms moeten ze je terzijde schuiven als er dringende zaken zijn als hun eigen familie, vandaar dat ik nooit echt waarde hechtte aan vrienden. Het zijn maar mensen, ik zou hen eerder kennissen noemen omdat ik niet teveel aan hen vertelde. Als ik het toch deed, dan was het met een gevoel van onverschilligheid alsof ik tegen mezelf sprak. Het kon me eveneens niet schelen omdat ze toch zouden vertrekken. Er is nooit een tijd geweest dat ik iemand kende die voor een lang periode bij me bleef. Niets is blijvends in het leven. Lees deze zin, herhaal het, versta het, begrijp het want het is waar. <br /><br />Op de dag dat ik dood zal gaan dan zal ik scheermesjes kopen en de hele kamer in mijn bloed doordrenken. Ik wil dat de muren druipen met mijn bloed, dat het over me heen gutst. Ik zal het proberen. Ik weet niet dat het kan, echter zal ik mijn best doen en het proberen. Ik zal heel gelukkig zijn. Het geluk is voor mij, gewond te zijn voordat iemand de kans heeft het jouw aandoen. Je bent vrij, je bent onsterfelijk, onverslaanbaar. Je bent machtig, je hebt macht over jouw leven als een god of godin en niemand kon wat beslissen zoals mensen dat doen in deze leven. Ik zou een krachtig wezen zijn in mijn bloed. Bedroefd doch blij dat ik over mijn leven kon beslissen voordat anders dat deden. Dat ik pijn ongedaan kon maken op mijn eigen manier.|||2||
1125705564|enigma|When will I come to terms with this?|<i>When I come to terms, to terms with this<br />My world will change for me</i><br />-<b>Tori Amos</b><br /><br />Dearest diary,<br /><br />Will I ever find peace with myself and with life? Will I ever be a rock, a mountain unmovable by whatever forces trying to push me from my place? Why does it feel, I won't ever feel this change? Was it because I really couldn't or because I didn't longer wish for that? I know. You know what I also know. I didn't want to come to terms with myself or life. If you weren't happy, you were sad. If not sad, then happy. That was everything. I could fantasize of myself at a carnaval, laughing loudly in company of people I loved but thinking about that, I felt nothing special. I didn't feel really sad. I do feel sad when I think I could've been a different person. The rest doesn't matter. Only I matter to me now, at the same I don't care. I only care about making myself sick then to blame myself for doing so. I did all that was in my reach and effort to make myself sick so it would quicken the process of death. But I kept on living, everytime again.<br /><br />I won't come to terms with anything, that's not what I want. Probably with death, I still had to as I held a bit of fear for it. It's unpredictable, I can only guess what there is at the other side of the horizon. *goes blank*<br /><br />Friends are nice sometimes, one of them mailed me a couple of pictures she shot of Tori Amos during her concert here in Rotterdam. I was extremely excited and wrote her back today to thank her. It was a lovely surprise, indeed. Only my brother had opened it as he said (in his own words) 'that someone else's name was on the letter and it couldn't be mine'. Jerk. Many people write me at my nickname instead of my real name, it makes me feel like someone else. My name offline only made me feel sick. It made you think of pretty things or overestimade my personality. I'm not entirely proud of it.<br /><br />Z.'s stuff also arrived today. I was so excited and am thanking her from the bottom of my heart. She has been a wonderful person showing me the road to endlessness. I will always remember her and appreciate her help and support she has offered me though we don't know each other personally.|||2||
1125629033|enigma|Dark thoughts|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Not much going on. Just becoming more a zombie by the pills I use and my silly attempts of starvation that often fail. I'm always out shopping and it's fatiguing. I thought and hoped I wouldn't be able to walk fast enough so a car could crash into me. I'd be very grateful. They say what you most crave is the most unlikely going to happen. I have seen that. Or I must stand on the road or appear suddenly when a car is rushing at high speed into my direction. Then let's hope he will crush each bone and senses in me.<br /><br />L. isn't online and Z. spoke to my last night. It was a rather nice conversation. I don't go further than the memories of when I were in my puberty. I spoke with her about my romances, about L. who I sensed I were liking too much. This morning I was writing an email in my head to him. I wanted to confess to him that he means a lot to me. I don't know if it's a real care or just the need to be intimate with someone. I just felt like holding him close and kiss him, taste his scent, his sweat, his saliva and all, running my hand through his hair. He seemed to be violent and easily annoyed, still I liked him and wished he liked me too. It doesn't really look that way, except the moments I'd tell him: 'I missed talking to you yesterday and have been looking for you', to have him answer: 'Awe, how sweet of you', like I were a child who missed her nanny or anyone who went away for awhile. I want to brainwash him and make him forget about his 'look-obsession', I think he didn't even know I was feeling more for him. Or he did as he wasn't online as often before. Perhaps he blocked me just to not have to deal with me so much. I want to tear his skin open with my nails, till he was screaming my name or finally understood the meaning he had for me. Or I'm crazy... we don't know each other so long, yet he made me crazy. I wanted to feel him and sense him closeby, his bodily warmth and care. His everything... I thought I liked him, most likely I'm thinking stuff that are unreal. Very likely.<br /><br />It's terrible what the Hurricane Katrina did in America. Others would say, that's a great payback for all the bad things Bush has done in Iraq. What goes around, comes around. Hurricanes may be desastrous, I liked them. Their violence. As you could imagine if you knew me enough, I wished I were one of those who died there. I really wished I had that honour to die without doing much effort.|||2||
1125613018|enigma|Rad's url|http://www.pink-misfit.net/rad/<br /><br />0383313387|||||
1125612547|enigma|The Reply|<<---Found her site luckily--->><br />reply on <a href="http://people.ashspaceorg/enigma/cutenews/weblog.php?start_from=1&ucat=&archive=&subaction=&id=&">this entry</a>, a mail I posted.<br /><br /><img src="divmijn.jpg"><br /><br /><i>Hi there. First and foremost, thank you for trusting me with your<br />thoughts and feelings. I am very honored that you would open up to me<br />even thought it is just because I made it possible with my site.<br /><br />Yes in a physical sense, I can't help you. That would be impossible<br />because I don't know you personally. But what I can do is try to help<br />you in another way. Please remember that you can always talk to me<br />about anything, you don't need to tell me who you are if you don't<br />want to. I would just like to help because it saddens me that someone<br />out there is going through this and I do want to help you any way I<br />can. You may think that I can't do anything for you but talking about<br />your problems help, I know that from experience.<br /><br />Yes, I may seem happy and cheerful all the time but I have my share of<br />dark thoughts, experiences and feelings of my own. Appearances can be<br />deceptive. I can't tell anyone about it except a friend who's been<br />through the same experience as I have. But I don't let that experience<br />rule my life. I try to see the brighter side of things, try to learn<br />from my rough patches. I try my best to be optimistic but that doesn't<br />mean my life is all fun, happy and perfect.<br /><br />I am happy (most of the time) because I made it that way and I am very<br />sure that you can do the same for yourself. Anyone can. Remember, I am<br />always here, ready to talk to you about anything. Please don't forget<br />that.<br /><br />Always,</i><br /><<--erased name for google not to locate it-->>|||2||
1125575188|enigma|A mail sent|I just bounced on your website. I love it actually. I am known on the web but for you I will be just an unknown face. Just an unknown person far away with dark depressive thoughts. I am not really asking for help as I don't need to. I only want to hear the vision of a cheery girl who has her life on track, who is happy, who rarely feels like she's wandering lost in the woods. I'm severely messed up, even I don't realise so. How would you be? What do you think? Do you feel pity for me as you don't know me? You can't help, what is there that you can say? Are you happy? Do you always expect it to continue to be that way? I don't know what it is like to be a happy careless girl, maybe when I were a kid, still I were a bit messed up, I only learnt to understand so as I grew up. <br /><br />I don't mean to be rude but I don't have any idea either why I am writing you. Most likely because you've given me that possibility. I hope you will always continue being fine and normal. I think darkness is the clothe I wear or worse: it's become my skin.|||2||
1125559987|enigma|Bloody|<<--I'd like to thank the person who emailed me yesterday, your words meant a lot to me. Somehow I was feeling incredibly shitty and those uplifting words did a lot to me, thanks once again, they are very treasured-->><br /><br />Dearest diary,<br /><br />You won't believe how bad I've been feeling these past few days. Blood was all that kept me going. I feel like I have no contents, I even wonder why some people bother talking to me while I'm not interesting and I can't even find good arguments for things that I stand for. I feel I'm a simpleton. I'm getting tired listening to my mother, she's always talking. I can't answer her, listen to music, think what to write and write and also correct my writings and the tv is annoying. I can't do so much at once. I know she doesn't mean to bother me, she is only trying to be like normal families. Anyway, I hate the programm that she's watching (Oprah is now instead). It was one where they humiliate ugly people, where they select a new sort of 'commercial' face. I wished I could kick the tv or destroy it with this very hard wooden log so it will stop talking. I'm so angry. Maybe my anger comes because I miss M. so incredibly much. I miss his softness and sweetness and all the things he'd tell about his life or current events. I miss his presence, his being, the knowledge he's close by. I'd sleep with my mobile near as if he was lying aside me in real life. I feel sad he may be in the hospital, losing the memory of me. It pains me. And I feel like I'm in love with L. too (but I love M?!), I'll admit that and it so badly sucks that he is always offline now. It's like this: Monday he's on, Tuesday not, Wednesday again, Thursday not and so forth. I want him to be here so we can talk. I know he sees me just as a talk buddy. I want to do something to him (hurt him, kick him, slap him), I don't care if he would do the same back to me. Or maybe I felt sexually attracted to him? I never speak about such things but I think I do. I liked his flirtatious ways. He was like those wandering lost souls on the streets but who knew clearly what road lead to where. And I wanted to be his mistress, the one to make him feel good and beautiful. I wished he craved me..<br /><br />I spoke to him while I was talking to my host. I was getting so pissed at him as he was talking lots of nonsense because he was stoned. I didn't even feel like talking to him than nodding and giving stupid replies. He was being a complete scientist, ranting about the weirdest facts I don't wish to hear except his feelings and his thoughts. I told him I was sort of disappointed he was stoned and hoped to speak to him when he was sane, when he would actually mean things he were telling me. I also asked him about his preference for brunettes with green eyes. I find him a superficial, discriminative idiot. I do have preferences but if the cake is red instead of green, I'd still like it if it tasted the way I wanted it to taste. I wished I never added him to my contact list. A bad thing, I can't erase him. If he would do the same, I'd feel like he never gave a shit about me. I don't understand guys, they are so complicated and he wasn't good for me as he was constantly smoking and drugged. There'd be a moment I'd get fed up with his unreal state of being as they are just fantasies, hallucinations. I want the real him. In spite of all the things I couldn't accept from him, he was so adorable, so nice to talk to (when he was sane). He looked like a good lover. Like the type of guy who'd grab you harshly and pulled you close and kiss you passionately. Or I was a dreamy girl. M. wouldn't do that as he's soft and I do like a certain bit of aggression, it's something I have always felt I had in me. That's why sometimes I doubt whether I actually feel pain, maybe I enjoyed it but lied to myself that it was hurtful and I went so far that I actually, really believed it. I have no idea.<br /><br />My appointment with the psychologist went alright. She appeared to have changed over the few months we hadn't seen each other. She wore a dress, sort of fluffy which was sleeveless. Somehow it showed her legs beautifully. In a word: she looked gorgeous. I could only look at her in fascination as I wanted to be just as nice as her. There was a moment she sat at her desk to telephone another unit to ask whether they could allow me to have therapies over there. I think my psychologist will be a guy. I'm not happy because I don't talk well with men. She let me know she was happy my lifely situation was fixed, my mother's problems had help and that I had insurance, she was proud of me that I had done all those on my own. I had no choice. My mother sometimes feels like she's my daughter, instead of me being hers. I am learning things on my own and I don't mind. I sat up straight, without leaning back whilst I answered all her questions. <br />'Do you have anything urgently to tell me, that needs help and can't wait longer?' <br />I remember one of the last things she asked before she put an end to our conversation that didn't last more than half an hour. <br />'Uhhmm.. I don't know if I should say or how to say it..', I replied in a manner like I was confused while I were smarter than that. <br />'No, I don't think I have anything that needed help urgently' I added after a short time thinking. <br />'Do you think of suicide sometimes?' I doubted whether to answer that question or how to answer. <br />I said 'yes...' what she understood as 'sort of but not much'. She won't know I think of it daily. Before I left her office I wondered why she couldn't help me and what was what she actually did over there. She does psychotherapy (I don't know if they spell it that way) but can't help me as she focusses more on one or two topics (I seem to have tons of issues). Therefor I needed to go to another professional, which is next week already. I must say, she is sweet after all. Perhaps it's the whether that changed her. She shone, she wasn't cold but like a star. But I hated it when I was looking at her and her eyes were wandering off elsewhere as if she didn't want to look at me. Am I that hideous? She's happy I sought contact again. Yes, sure.<br /><br />I sold a few stuff of my collection for 10 euros. I'm such a bad negotiator. I told the girl the cost for mailing the package is 6 euro, she sent 5. So I had to pay 50 euro cent extra. I feel like doing something but well, at least I got something. I sell stuff to get money to buy myself some ingredients for my birthdaycake. The woman I talk to will mail out the things she promised me. I told her I'd pay her and she seemed happy. I will wait to buy the real thing till the end of October, till I was sure M. wasn't going to return ever again. I don't have hope. I hope to see L. tomorrow, I miss that idiot. Why are people so fascinated by beauty? Am I abnormal that the beauty I love isn't humanly accepted? I would like to go visit him and have him teach me to do a good trip. I actually want to seduce him. I'm a bad girl... 'Don't believe I'm happy when I act this way'.<br /><br /><b>P.S:</b> Starting from tomorrow I will try to beat Isole by weighing 55kg. At least I have something real now to compete with. I will be starting to fast while taking medications, they will make me sleep. I will miss L... *sighs*|||2||
1125378497|enigma|Untitled|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I write so much and I can't stop writing. I hoped in silence to see L. today but well, he is a busy bee. He personally told me he is outgoing and likes going out even there are times he does like being at home. I understand him. I think of him and me together some days and I wonder how it would be. Is he what I think of him in real life? He was going to mail me a photo of him, I was so happy he didn't. It would break my illusion and I want to continue daydream away. I wonder why he thought he should? Was he interested...? I felt flattered still but as we spoke further we both forgot about the picture he was going to mail me. Maybe he will be on tomorrow. I will be curious whether or not he found the book I recommended him to read. He recommended me one also but other people borrowed them already! By the way, the sixth book of Harry Potter is awaiting me in the library. Someone finally brought it back in. When I go to the library Wednesday (it's closed on Tuesday), I will take it. I must pay 1 euro for reservation costs. I shouldn't hold myself to anyone... Why am I this way? It's sort of 'crazying'. I feel so unwell. Men make me sick. When I think of them in a <i>deeper</i> way, I felt vulnerable. Then all I wanted was the softness and sweetness of a woman's skin and gentle, caring voice. Someone really has to free me of the fear I have for men. It is not good.<br /><br />So, tomorrow I have an appointment. I wonder what the psychologist will tell me. I really don't fancy her. She is cold like a freezer. She is so tasteless, she has no energy. I don't discriminate or judge her but her attitude is not like someone who is there to help people. It's like she randomly picked the job because it makes good money by only talking to people. How easy it is to have such jobs. You only sit randomly, stare at the time hearing someone rant and rave, and then you tell them to come next time, untill you decided that it was no longer needed because they now got better. I'm overreacting, I know they <i>do</i> something but I don't think so much. Everytime I left her, I felt like running home and slice a bit in my flesh. She made me so depressed. It was her coolness she radiated. She was too soft... and superficial. It wasn't like she was 'alive' and wanting to look inside of me. She only looked at my wrapper and felt pity. I feel depressed already. I have written a lot for today... I'm going to take in my pills and go to bed, I have to wake up really early. I have to be there at 10am. I hope to see L. tomorrow. Damn myself for wishing that! Damn myself. Go slit your wrists, tomorrow he'll tell you he's sorry he gave you the wrong impression. I think I am done with men.|||2||
1125367719|enigma|Survey|I just got a survey filled from a Canadian penpal I used to write to, we really had fun in those old days, writing long, entertaining letters. I actually thought L. came online when I received an email. I am filling it in as I like questions.<br /><br /><img src="divmijn.jpg"><br /><br /><b>1. who did you last get angry with?</b><br />I think L. For he isn't anyone I expected him to be or my mother for she was saying things I really don't wish to hear.<br /><br /><b>2. what is your weapon of choice?</b><br />My nails =) but sometimes words. I tend to hurt people easily with words when I'm mad.<br /><br /><b>3. would you hit a member of the opposite sex?</b><br />Yes, I already have. I have brothers so...<br /><br /><b>4. how about of the same sex?</b><br />Also. I used to fight a lot physically with my cousin (who was also like a best friend). But at the end we'd be all fine like nothing happened.<br /><br /><b>5. who was the last person that got really angry at you?</b><br />My brother, he's always mad at me. Sometimes I believe he can't bear having me around than doing shoppings for him.<br /><br /><b>6. what is your pet peeve? </b><br />Judgements and all other negative stuff.<br /><br /><b>7. do you keep grudges, or can you let them go easily?</b> <br />I do keep grudges and I'm revengeful, in a karmic sense. I am mad but I know what goes around comes around. This is the sweetest revenge, not having to do anything at all.<br /><br /><b>SLOTH<br />1. what is one thing you're supposed to do daily that you haven't done in a long time?</b> <br />Cleaning my bedroom. My books, they are all lying around and I never read them.<br /><br /><b>2. what's the latest you've ever woken up?</b><br />Maybe 9pm or so. I don't know. It was two days ago because I hadn't slept when talking to L.<br /><br /><b>3. name a person you've been meaning to contact, but haven't.</b><br />K. I started writing her but never finished as I were too weak and tired.<br /><br /><b>4. what is the last lame excuse you've made? </b><br />I don't have an apetite.<br /><br /><b>5. ever watched an infomercial all the way through?</b><br />No, not really.<br /><br /><b>6. when was the last time you got a good workout in? </b><br />Ages ago. Seriously, I don't remember. I don't work out.<br /><br /><b>7. how many times did you hit the snooze button on your alarm clock today?</b><br />I don't. <br /><br /><b>GLUTTONY<br /><br />1. what is your overpriced yuppie beverage of choice?</b><br />I don't know...<br /><br /><b>2.white meat or dark meat?</b><br />I wished I were a vegetarian. No meat.<br /><br /><b>3. what is the greatest amount of alcohol you've had in one sitting/outing/event?</b><br />I don't drink... maybe half a bottle or something? :-s<br /><br /><b>4. have you ever used a professional diet company? </b><br />Never<br /><br /><b>5.do you have an issue with your weight?</b><br />Without doubt, I do.<br /><br /><b>6. do you prefer sweets, salty foods, or spicy foods?</b><br />I do like sweets but not too much. Salt also, not too much. Spicy, it's okay.<br /><br /><b>7. have you ever taken food "to go" from a buffet?</b><br />My family members maybe. I haven't.<br /><br /><b>LUST<br /><br />1.how many people have you seen naked </b><br />Let's see... one, two... three... At least three people.<br /><br /><b>2. how many people have seen YOU naked (not counting physicians/family)?</b><br />At least one.<br /><br /><b>3. have you ever caught yourself staring at the chest/crotch of a member of your gender of choice during a normal conversation?</b><br />Yes, I can't help it sometimes. I think I'm just curious.<br /><br /><b>4. have you wanted someone who was taken? </b><br />Yes, it happened a few times or at least once.<br /><br /><b>5. what is your favorite body part on a person of your gender of choice?</b> <br />I have something with hands and underarms. I adore looking at people's hands and underarms, especially from men. (Did I say that??)<br /><br /><b>6. have you ever been propositioned by a prostitute? </b><br />No, I don't think so.<br /><br /><b>7. have you ever had a one night stand? </b><br />No, I'm too picky and old-fashioned. (<b>updated 8th October 2005</b>)<br /><br /><b>GREED<br /><br />1. how many credit cards do you own? </b><br />None yet.<br /><br /><b>2. what's your guilty pleasure?</b><br />I don't know... <br /><br /><b>3. if you had $1 million, what would you do with it? </b><br />I'd donate to charities, give my family a part and buy everything I need to kill myself. That would be better. <br /><br /><b>4. would you rather be rich or famous?</b><br />None of them. Both have their obligations and bad sides.<br /><br /><b>5. would you accept a boring job if it meant you would make megabucks?</b><br />Probably not. (<b>updated 8th October 2005</b>)<br /><br /><b>6. how many mp3's are on your hard drive? </b><br />One I just downloaded. The rest are in my mp3-player<br /><br /><b>PRIDE<br /><br />[...where's number one?]<br />2. what one thing have you done that your parents are most proud of? </b><br />I don't know. (<b>updated 8th October 2005</b>)<br /><br /><b>3. what thing would you like to accomplish in your life?</b><br />Death. (<b>updated 8th October 2005</b>)<br /> <br /><b>4. do you get annoyed by coming in second place?</b><br />No. (<b>updated 8th October 2005</b>)<br /><br /><b>5. have you ever entered a contest of skill, knowing you were of much higher skill than all the other competitors? </b><br />No, I'm not like that.<br /><br /><b>6. have you ever cheated on something to get a higher score? </b><br />Hmmm, I don't think so.<br /><br /><b>7. what did you do today that you're proud of? </b><br />Nothing. I'm seldom proud of myself.<br /><br /><b>ENVY<br /><br />1.what item of your friend's would you most want to have for your own?</b><br />Carelessness, happiness and beauty.<br /><br /><b>2. if you could be anyone else/thing in the world, who/what would you be?</b><br />The Air. Or M.'s heart or blood if he was still alive. Or the afterlife, if his spirit was drifting around there. (<b>updated 8th October 2005</b>)<br /><br /><b>3.have you ever been cheated on?</b><br />Yes.<br /><br /><b>4. have you ever cheated on someone? </b><br />No, not really. I only fall in love quickly...<br /><br /><b>5.have you ever wished you had a physical feature different from your own? </b><br />I don't know..<br /><br /><b>6. what trait do you see in others that you wish you had for yourself?</b><br />Happiness, beauty, livelyness etc.<br /><br /><b>7. what is your favorite deadly sin?</b><br />Envy is the safest to say. (<b>updated 8th October 2005</b>)|||2||
1125359615|enigma|Megalomaniac|Dearest diary,<br /><br />What the hell is a <i>megalomaniac</i>? I must say I like this word. I was informing myself more about the band Incubus and were reading they once had a hit with this track. I needed to listen to it as they have many nice, neat songs. As soon as I listened to it, I digged it. I think Clean is a good one too. I will get the lyrics. I may not understand or recognize the words he (Brandon Boyd) is singing, but I do feel it has some sentences that are 'ace'. <a href="http://www.lyricsfreak.com/i/incubus/67166.html">It's</a> kind of confusing (I don't comprehend the whole of it) but the music itself is nice, sort of dance-like. Not that I like dancing. It makes you sooner move out of frustration, something around those lines (like violently, a bit). I am a megalomaniac. A mega obsessed girl. I have a few obsessions, do I? Possibly. Sometimes I have no idea what my likes or dislikes are. I was more something alive and not someone. You know this, diary, I have told you about these apathetical feelings before. <br /><br />I like the medications my doctor put me on, they make me sleep so much. It may eat up all the fitness out of me, at the other hand I didn't have to eat when I were sleeping. I tend to wake up early, strangely. I'm always up around 9am and never sleep further unless I'm extremely tired. It's contradictive. Or the pills aren't working after all. I don't feel much effect while I am running out of the first strip. I am more irritable and lifeless. Or I am weary but not enough to have me go to bed. Somehow I am tired, that's a fact, like right now I am too.<br /><br />Luckily, I could've cancelled my appointment. I had a nice lady on the phone and explained to her that the letter arrived late so I couldn't cancel the appointment in time. She was sweet and said she would note that down. She questioned whether I would call back for a new appointment or if they could call later. I hurriedly said I would (not that I will again, I really can't afford it), to not have them calling me. I hope they still won't send any bill for me to pay. Some people are really bloodsuckers and unreasonable. I had the misfortune to experience this with a doctor who later turned me down and told me to seek someone else. I had to pay quite a bit of money, I'm glad I have that over now. It actually was his assistant and it was basically a more 'refined' way of saying that I could get fucked. I felt insulted, offended and hurt. I also remember going there once to have them checking an injury and they cooly told me to go to the hospital, they wouldn't help me. If it was a bit severe, I think they still wouldn't have cared. I hadn't felt depressed in my whole life. At the end, I went to the hospital solitairy and two other doctors checked on me to constatate that I didn't have any difficulty, I could feel safe. During this period I underwent another bad 'experience' which only strengthened my suicidial feelings. Never have I felt so alone either. I don't want to recall, some people were just really incomprehensibly harsh and indifferent. Well, if this doctor charges me -I don't think he has the right to- it's still their own fault not mine. They didn't give me a chance for cancellation.<br /><br />I was looking for a few surveys to fill out and found myself taking a few tests. According to a few, I'm 'severely depressed' and need to seek professional help 'urgently' to not end up dead. (Later you will be having guardians at your door to keep an eye on you to not commit suicide.) Everything is about control. Sometimes life itself was contradictive, you know? It didn't make any sense to me, this I know. The government bothers or annoys itself by people who have mental disorders (I don't think many receive the nicest and best treatment), saying they cost money but still they keep them alive. This may be harsh but why don't they let these people die, why do they even care? Wouldn't that spare them of useless effort of trying and then failing and also money we all worried about? Money was so precious and we always want to spent it on other things (materials) than someone's life and wellbeing. This is again a very rude, heartless comment. But I thought they should let people get killed without trying to save them, these saviours did it 'against their will', not because they actually cared about you as a person. Maybe they wanted to win a trofee or be seen as a hero. They didn't care about you. They don't. I cost them money. And the chance is small I will get better. I may function physically better but in my head I will continue to be as screwed as I've been before. I know how this world is, I know what to expect from and out of it. I have spent decades here, I know how people behave and to what lengths they all can go. I know they don't care about anything if it isn't for a personal benefit, as long they can profit from it. <br /><br />As I continued reading, clicking on random links for more tests... I signed online and saw a link in a MSN contact and bounced unto more websites but about depression/self-injury ones. I was just reading this girl's diary, so desperate she sounds. I only read her newest entry which was about her friends abandoning her as she came out that she self-injures. It seems to happen so much. I think I have read or heard similiar stories everywhere. When you're depressed or self-injure, people suddenly find this too hectic, too big, too heavy to handle. Suddenly they can't be your friends anymore, or their parents (conservative, closedminded parents needed to be locked up for all eternity or they needed a brain-wash to wash away all the filthy, unfair thoughts and beliefs they held theirself to) prohibited them to. Are they scared? Or do they feel depression is contaminative or something? Why do they treat their friends that way? Perhaps I'm fortunate as that hasn't happened to me before. I personally gave up my 'friends'. Only online two 'friends' stopped dealing with me as they thought I were crazy. <b>Correction:</b> When they thought I were crazy, I trashed them in a bin. I hate remembering, so I won't go deeper on this. Offline I don't have to deal with the knowledge people abandon me. I knew somehow I wouldn't be the same anymore, as nice, lively, energetic (not that I ever was but I could pretend), supportive as the person they knew I was. My depression sucked all those qualities out of me and made me careless. Sometimes I do miss talking to those few good friends I had. I know they tried before to get me out of my hell, but I didn't want them to help me. I didn't want to have to owe them anything. They gave up and forgot my name. I know some of their profiles (they have websites online) and they don't mention me as sometimes they did. The better, I don't wish to be remembered by anyone. As long as I live, I try to chop out all possible weed out of my way to not have them block my sight. In other words, I try to not get hurt. I protect and prepare myself before anything unexpectedly happens. At least I know nothing can hurt me as I had it all stipulated.|||2||
1125351956|enigma|Untitled|There was a documentary (I can't believe I used to spell this word wrong: <i>documentaire</i> :s) on a Dutch channel. I sat watching it while waiting till it turned 2pm so I could go to the library to eventually bring back a few books or pay whatever little debts I caused for not turning them in time. I'm still sitting here, it doesn't look like I will go. The documentary was about a marriage between a Chinese/Japanese man with a Dutch woman. I am interested in all that has to do with romances, it lifted me up and yes, it sort of kept me living in my daydreams where all (mostly) is beautiful. No, I mainly sat and watched it as I was curious how things would or do work out between them, also what kind of feelings they had for each other. Whether it matched the way I felt when being in love or if it was different.<br /><br />It kind of upsetted me when the guy was giving his opinion about the woman, saying she was very gentle, humble, a good person for a nice domestic life and that they would somehow have to discuss their carreer orientated-lifestyle as both worked. I was like, is that all? Is that why you are marrying her? Just because she has qualities to be a sort of good housewife? I got so annoyed as I continued looking at them shopping for a wedding dress and how he was saying 'you look so gorgeous' and the woman was responding 'the dress is too tight, I can't breathe'. There was no touching, stroking, nothing or he could've touch her waist to check whether the dress was fine or kiss her or anything. Before that, a sort of professional woman had a conversation with them to sort of examine whether they make a good match. What is this? At the end, she brought the news of the results to the parents of the guy. She told them the only problem both would have in their relationship was that the woman was older than the guy and would look older sooner (!). What makes me laugh hysterically and feel nauseaus is that there is only <b>three</b> years of difference. How much difference can that be?? How can she look older when they live together if the difference is <b><u>not</u></b> big at all?? It's like a milimeter or something, unnoticeable. <br /><br />Is that how people are thinking about relationships these days? About stupid details and to have the basics to be able to leave traces behind that they once existed? I mean offspring. This is really rediculous. Or maybe I was just perfectionistic with my values again. Or perhaps that was just their way of living but that wasn't love. I'd expect the man to caress the woman's face while she came out in her wedding dress to show him. Instead he looked at her like they do in stripclubs. Look but never touch. If I have a lover, I want him to touch me anytime. Not pervertedly but a soft kiss on the cheek, resting a hand on my thigh or rub my back. In anything I want to see that he cares about me. I don't know... I somehow think I'd be a better boyfriend for that woman if I were a guy. I am too attentive and affectionate, especially when I'm in love. I sort of open up and let go of my shyness. I hope they live happily ever after. Maybe a very simple, dull life but to them it probably was a lot. For me it would never be.|||2||
1125276721|enigma|Babytje van Angst|Babytje van angst<br />voortgekomen uit zweren<br />in een wereld waar je niet past<br />overkomen is wat je ooit <br />zult moeten leren<br /><br />Mama heeft wel liefde voor jou<br />in tegenstelling tot de maker<br />van de zaadcellen<br />Ze geeft jou een blik zo koud<br />anders behoort ze tot de<br />straatdellen<br />Hoewel ze dat al voor hem is,<br />minder erg dan wanneer<br />ze moet smeken<br />voor vergiffenis<br /><br />Babytje met een hemels lichaam<br />zo puur en teer en zonder blaam<br />Deze dag zingt over inschuld<br />en over die dag waar het jouw beurt<br />zal zijn om leven te schenken <br />aan een geinfecteerde bult<br /><br />Je krijst wanneer je gewaarwordingen krijgt<br />van een temperatuur die te hoog stijgt<br />van onvertrouwde, donkere plekken<br />waar je je kleine beentjes niet kunt strekken<br /><br />Maar babytje van angst<br />jaren zullen je uitnodigen op gesprek<br />en je zult weten dat<br />voorlopig duurt duisternis<br />het langst|||2||
1125276043|enigma|Kwelling|Het is maar een lijk<br />die van mij houdt<br />en me zoekt<br />die schreeuwt om die<br />onomkeerbare fout<br /><br />Het is een schoonheid<br />dat langzaam transformeert<br />in de dood, in een monster<br />en als de dood terugkeert<br /><br />Het is een warmte<br />dat van de oppervlakte verdwijnt<br />en bittere koud afscheidt<br />en mij om mijn leven benijdt<br /><br />Het is een obsessie<br />dat alsmaar naar me verlangt<br />en me zoekt bijgestaan door<br />kwaadaardige lust<br />die mijn levenssappen uitzuigt<br />en opvangt<br /><br />Het is mijn grote liefde<br />die me met zijn droge,<br />schrale lippen wil kussen<br />die me niet kan vergeten<br />en vergeven<br />die geen maan ooit<br />vredig in slaap kan sussen|||2||
1125275623|enigma|Top van de berg|Kun je zeggen dat het dezelfde is<br />geslepen hout tot een punt<br />die op me afgevuurd wordt<br />als het richten van een geweer<br /><br />Het is beter dan krassen<br />en risico's oplopen om<br />in dezelfde situaties te verkeren<br />alleen is de knop doorgedraaid<br />Er is meer druk<br />op jouw rug<br /><br />Dat heb ik liever niet<br />gewoon blijven functioneren <br />alles normaal verteren<br />ooit bereik ik de top van de berg<br />en kan ik omlaag kijken<br />naar mijn bewandelde pad<br />en met tranen van trots zeggen<br />dat het mij is gelukt|||2||
1125275070|enigma|Verf|Het is een versiering<br />gekleurd verf<br />Schilderend de lucht<br />elke vermoeide zucht<br />Schilderend de straat<br />ieder die luid praat<br />Schilderend de woorden<br />die uitfloepen en storen<br />Schilderend het geweld<br />en elk dorst naar geld<br />Schilderend met mijn leven<br />want zo overleef ik<br />Alles versierend<br />Alles in vochtigheid<br />totdat het opdroogt<br />in geruime tijd<br />Als kunstenaar<br />het maakt alles<br />verdraagbaar|||2||
1125274447|enigma|Smakeloze Geaardbal|Duidelijk<br />Deze aardbal en ik<br />komen niet overeen<br />en alleen<br />is moeilijk een strijdbijl<br />op te hijsen<br />Smeer me uiteen<br />Aardbal, rol over mij heen<br />als saus over het deeg<br />maak me compleet|||2||
1125272795|enigma|De Doodsleper|Als ik van jouw aderen dronk<br />om me meer van je bewust te zijn <br />- ze vertellen dat jouw vulling<br />jouw omtrek voor je aftekent<br />en weet ik wat jij betekent -<br />ondervond ik je niet zoals gewoonlijk<br />Jij, de doodsleper<br />dood noch levend<br />jij in meerderheid<br />een doodsvuist tegen<br />het andere partij<br />die slijt<br />en alleen als die<br />overgebleven sas<br />ben je sterfelijk|||2||
1125271925|enigma|Pot|Op het moment dat ze pot uitliet<br />kon ik ook echt de potten horen rammelen<br />zo'n kabaal dat zelfs Polyphemus oogwit<br />rood bedraad werd in zijn diepe holle grot<br />en briesend eruit stormde met een ellenlange knuppel<br />Er bestaan betere vertalingen van het woord<br /><br />Ze kon het loslaten op een fijnere toon<br />Het is goed om jouw eigen regenboog te volgen en te showen<br />maar als je in leven blijft wilt<br />dan was dit:<br />een blad voor je lippen<br />soms voor jouw eigen bestwil|||2||
1125271010|enigma|Rook|En nu dat er geen terugweg is<br />- want een bejaarde kan zich niet<br />in een eischel plaatsen<br />wel als een kuiken gedragen -<br />zal ik keihard lachen<br />totdat mijn ingewanden zich loslaten<br />Wat kan er gedaan worden<br />als je het niet meer ziet zitten<br />en wanneer zelfs het zitten<br />niet helpt<br />Misschien is deze leefwereld<br />maar een tekening of een <br />levendige fantasie<br />maar waarom dan zo'n hysterie?<br />Het voelt nog heel engachtig echt<br />Je wordt als een dommerd<br />als een stommerd bestempeld<br />als je iets niet goed kunt zien<br />echter vanaf hier zie ik<br />helemaal niets<br />dan vlammend rook|||2||
1125270179|enigma|(Just a thought)|Mijn woorden waren soms gewoon inkt op papier<br />slierten, figuren en vormen, niet meer of minder<br />En zeiden en betekenden niet veel<br />Het was als een spreuk ongesproken, niet opgevoerd<br />Het had melodie, het gevoel nodig<br />ze misten muziek<br />voordat hun waarheden<br />konden worden ingezien|||2||
1125269266|enigma|Metro|Mijn ziel was over haar toeren<br />had mijn lichaam uitgemergeld<br />als een boomstam uitgehold<br />In haar koffer, in haar voertuig<br />draaide ze voortdurend om<br />wist niet in slaap te komen<br />wierp ijspegels over de grond<br />waar ze zich weer aan bezeerde<br />en vervolgens wr door het plas<br />bleef trippen<br />Het was een kluis met een<br />moeilijk te gissen nummer<br />Ook al keef ze op God's lippen zittend<br />het leek een programeerd granaat<br />die over een tijd over gaat<br />en uiteindelijk door mijn lijf scheen<br />zodat mijn ziel voorgoed<br />de metro kon pakken|||2||
1125268436|enigma|Busrit|De Aarde is net een busrit<br />alleen gaat het oneindig door<br />Het rijdt en rijdt zonder echte bestemming<br />en stopt nergens even voor niemand<br />die wellicht willen of moeten uitstappen<br />Het rijdt verder heen<br />over de stervenden|||2||
1125264672|enigma|Verminkt|Vieze, vuile woorden<br />doorklinken in mijn oren<br />Als sletterige, vervloekte hoer<br />kom ik naar voren<br /><br />Een vuist in het gezicht<br />bloed in mijn mondhoek<br />Trek me overeind aan mijn haar<br />en open mij als een boek<br /><br />Spuug op mijn verscheurde kleren<br />een ruk aan mijn kanten beha<br />Generend voel ik mij bloot<br />en vergeet dat ik besta<br /><br />Druppels magma op mijn lijf<br />Kapot is nu mijn streven<br />naar geluk dat nu doodgaat<br />en een verschrikking is om te blijven leven<br /><br />Een geest dwalend uit zijn omhulsel<br />een smerig kern tussen mijn benen<br />Trek je je terug uit mij<br />Gewond blijf ik achter onder jouw stenen<br />Verminkt|||2||
1125262802|enigma|Untitled|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Sometimes I feel incredibly alone like no one really knows I exist. I know you will give me an angry look when I say this as I have personally chosen for it. I don't think I'd be happier having friends who adore me and like being around me. Sometimes I felt I like being depressed, or maybe I've gotten so used to it that I don't wish for anything else. But despite it all, the soltitude didn't do me so well. I don't see the meaning of love either and I am not expecting its arrival, though there have been moments I do. I daydream best. I do want you to remind me to question L. one day when I feel like signing online that if he thinks we are all gods and goddesses why he only feels attracted to brunettes with green eyes? Men are so superficial. Superficial because they only study the package but never look at the taste of the product.<br /><br />Maybe I am stupid... but when I see someone I don't look <i>at</i> them but <i>through</i> them to see what has made them the person they are. Sometimes I can interpret my impressions and feelings someone calls well and they are surprised. Observing people is always nice and I have done that for as long as I can remember. I can see when someone changes, even it's a really tiny change. I am detailed, I study each word and how they are being formulated into sentences. In all situations different words and phrases are being used. Nothing happens or is being done without a reason. That reason could be a feeling or anything, but it's something personal I always try to figure out. I want to know why people like certain things and despise the other. Why they are judgemental without any reason, was it fear? Or did something happen in the past to have them become the person they were today? History was fascinating. It helped you understand a lot about things that were happening today. We were constantly reacting on things that happened once in the past. If I hadn't eaten yesterday, I'd feel hungry today. I will be trying to get that done, to find something to prevent what happened yesterday from happening again. A bad example, I can't come up with better comparisons. I am fighting everything that happened. Thinking about the place I'm standing on today, is only depressing. I am literally just a shell breathing in and exhaling air. I don't do or mean anything to the world or for other people. I do feel glad if there's something I can do for someone, it makes me feel useful even it's temporary. It's hurtful to glare at photographs of me when I were a bit younger, hope and lust were radiating all over me, despite all the events. I wasn't thinking. I thought everything was normal. Moving to this country was a real bad idea and the saddest is I can't go back in time and stay there. I may have been deprived of a lot, still I would grow up and move out and be happy. I wouldn't be sitting here grieving over myself. At the other side, I don't mind being like this. Things can't remain the same forever. Changes always occur, sooner or later. Perhaps things will be better... I don't know when or where I will be at that time.|||2||
1125219166|enigma|Untitled|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I swear I can do something to myself from hearing my mother's repeative complaining. Hasn't she had her own life already, what gave her the right to mess mine? She used to be a teenager once, happier than I have ever been and will, why won't she leave me alone, why is she always so selfish, demanding me to listen to the things she is usually only repeating (the neighbours, or some stupid other thing that is so nonsensical or pointless)? What have I done to deserve this torture from her? What?? I do not understand. What was certain, she didn't give me the lust to live. She only drove me to end my life quicker. I wished I could explain more but I never will. I am sickly tired of her that it made me volatile, she drove me over the edge but I am self-controlled. I try to hold in my anger, my rage, the frustration she brought me as much as I can inwards or by releasing it with my blood. I seriously felt like cutting myself.. I think I will. The blood will destroy and make her poisonous words non-existant. Why am I blessed with such a family? I really believed I did something terribly but still I think no one had the right to punish me without me knowing I had done something wrong. Punishment without reasons is a whore. It's unfair. I'm going offline now. And do some beautiful drawings on my arm or something to make myself fall asleep better. Oh, I will drug myself with my medication too. I felt they made me rather drunk. <br /><br />Oh, not to forget. I don't think I really like L. I have found more about him today and he's nothing like I expected him to be. He is very cooly and very focussed on looks. I thought he was different... Unfortunately, but it was nice so far it lasted. No, I won't bother coming online the next days as I won't have time anyway and further he didn't give a shit about my feelings either. And maybe he just pretended to listen to me while he didn't give a flying fuck about whatever I go through. <b>I hate men</b>. Especially those who broke my heart... I hope M. forgives me, I may hate what he has done to me but he might has his reasons and more than anything, he was a mutiple of times sweeter and softer and I love him. <br /><br />Or.. fuck love. All I believed in was some stupid childish fantasy. Fuck myself, fuck every single part of my being that completed this stupid, idiot enigma I was. Fuck myself. Forever.|||2||
1125208164|enigma|Sleepy|Dearest journal,<br /><br />Could you believe that I slept the whole day yesterday since I came home around 11 am? I took my medication as a good girl would, I think possibly they made me sleepy. I woke up around 10 pm and wanted to write awhile but felt how the sleep was taking over me and I had to go to bed even I was curious to see L. I am still feeling dizzy, yawning the whole time. I don't think I can rest well these days as I have two appointments the next week. One with another doctor, I really thought he was not going to see me but now he does. And do you know what gets me? I got the letter Friday and it's the only day I could cancel the appointment. The weekends they are close and do you know another thing? They will charge me 27 euros per 15 minutes if I don't cancel it in time. I didn't check the mailbox Friday because I already had. Now the mail seemed to have arrived later. I'm rather angry with myself. I guess in some way it's for my own good, at the other hand I really can't have debts at the moment as my insurance doesn't cover these costs. I feel like screaming. And you know the other appointment is with a psychologist. Sure she will blame me and wonder why I haven't contacted her in months but honestly I really don't feel like bringing up the past or narrate them to someone. So usually they have a complete different image than what my life looks like, seriously. Either it be worse or nicer, it's still different than the reality. The past is something personal. I can talk from the time we moved to this place but earlier than that I'd try not to go.<br /><br />I did tell the psychologist one thing which I felt I had to, as I thought you should have gone through some bad things to be in therapies. I don't know why you would sit there talking to someone while there wasn't much going on or ever was. I hope she has forgotten it as I'm not going to repeat myself. Sometimes I felt at peace with the past, it wasn't going on right now, so I'm happy. Only it prevented me sometimes to feel comfortable and normal in touch with others. I will see what will come out of these conversations. Not much, I guess.<br /><br />Do you know what L. thinks of me? He says that if I am ever living on my own, I will be very outgoing and happier than I am. The way he said it, it was like he was talking about these happy cheery schoolgirls I used to hate because they were so confident. He seems to have such high hopes of me and sometimes he was saying or asking me things that made me feel like... 'maybe he does think of me in other terms'. I feel so... I checked my mailbox today, more for information I requested at a company to get some personal stuff done and I came across a mail he sent me! I was so happy and doubted whether to read it immediately. Of course it wasn't a love letter. It was a few pictures he promised me (not personal) of things we have been discussing. It was a rather frank mail.. but at the other hand I know we both were trying to not overrush things? I don't know. He did say he hoped/looked forward to speak to me tomorrow.  I'm sorry I talk about him so much... I sometimes felt so over the clouds thinking about him at the same time I felt incredibly pained. He was plugged into this society. At the other side I was trying hard my best to get rid of everything that held me here. I hoped visualization would make me come far. I really like him and wonder if he won't feel turned off by me when know each other better or as time passes by. As time passes by I usually get annoyed with people, as the pleasure of speaking in the beginning, the magic, it's gone.<br /><br />Some times I do compare myself with a woman seeking her life in a dark corner on the streets, walking up and down restlessly, waiting for someone who can help her, who can meet her needs so she can survive the day. I've been walking up and down for a really long time. I saw many others in my vision doing exactly the same thing and some of them their eyes changed color and their skin started losing brightness. Their bones started giving up, their heartbeats slowing down, to later join the countless skeletons who never made it to have their dreams or wishes come true. Want to bet that I soon will be lying aside them?|||2||
1125081380|enigma|Untitled|Dearest diary,<br /><br />I think L. likes me. This isn't an assumption, I really thought he did. He didn't let me go to bed and you know what he said? That he liked talking to me very much and 'didn't want to have me go to sleep' though I had an appointment. He said he didn't regret doing so, he's a meany, isn't he? But I like him... I always liked the wrong guys. I always followed them like a little doggie. I haven't slept the whole day still I felt flattered. I appeared to be interesting and we looked similiar in so many ways. He also makes me laugh all the time. He told me he got the impression I was lively but understood the reasons why I was so down. I do know quite a bit from him and he does know quite some stuff from me, except that I was wishing death upon me daily. It's very amusing to converse with him because he is so diverse, he has experienced and went through so many exciting stuff and all I could do was have him tell me more. The only difference I could name between us would be that I was incredibly sensitive and constantly worried about pleasing others to not have them mad at me, that was so far I thought it was useful or else I would let go. He thought I could be a little more assertive and selfish as long as I didn't hurt people. But I always thought I did, therefor my needs aren't always important. He -in contrary with me- was rather straight to the point. He doesn't pretend (except when he does but usually he doesn't), just likes saying what he thinks. When I see someone at first sight I think, 'I want to make that person feel comfortable with me, that he/she is a nice person and worthy to be'. He in contrary thinks: 'let's see if this person is worth being a friend, or else I won't bother going deeper'. He inspired me so much and we get along so well with each other that it's rather terrifying. Now that I felt I 'had' him, the proces of withdrawal had begun. I was wanting to let go off him as I know he could hurt me, he already did. This morning I was washing away my blood under the shower to clean me of the feelings that pained me. People have no idea that they are the ones who drive me to cut, they make me feel so bad sometimes. The smallest things do. I thought living on my own was the best for me, I would be safe. Say that's no life and we need people, I'll agree with you, but I don't think I deserve it.<br /><br />You know diary, I also believe the love that I seek is one which is nothing else than fairytales. I seek a horrible perfection that will have me stay single forever, not that I see more years ahead of me. I didn't feel that sad, at least I have my fantasies and stories I can tell myself. If I didn't, I'd be sad. I don't know what will happen from here... <br /><br />I stopped talking to L. around 6 am. I was talking to him the day before already at night, so we talked a long while though I did feel a bit sleepy sometimes. I will soon go to bed, I feel very tired. After that, I went showering to go to the appointment. Later I found myself taking a nap that lasted 10 minutes or so. I arrived early at my destination, the appointment was not okay. A few doctors will have to check on me to see if I am capable to perform any duties. I will get a letter within two/three weeks. My mum had to go through that one too and I remember the man (he was nice though) asked me whether I attended school and which sort I went to. When I replied, he felt sorry for me and thought I was letting a great opportunity slipping away. Now I possibly had to confront him again and have such talks <i>again</i>. The woman who helped me today was constantly smiling, like laughing inwardly. I felt horrible and tried my best to answer her questions as good as possible. She wondered why I suddenly went to the psychologist now. I told her that the doctor refered me, though she didn't seem too convinced but had to work with the facts. She wanted to know the medications I use and what I do at home and if I had friends. Lots of interrogative questions, like a cop. I left a few minutes after with a great urge to hang myself, cut and stab myself till there was not much of my personality left. I wanted to cut up my face and maybe others will think it's for attention but for me it was a way to burry my face and kill my identity. I wanted to die and I want to die. I seriously doubt whether I'm going to wait for M. or not. Sometimes I felt he fucked me and really really hard. And now I was lonely, intensely lonely.<br /><br />It felt like a struggle now someone new entered my life. If I were someone who liked going out, I would've probably been a whore. No wonder I'm being called that so much. I fell in love quickly and when I did, I would feel so connected to you and felt together we'd be beautiful. I was feeling guilty, as I adored M., he is so dear to me... but now I also felt a sort of a mysterious attraction for another person that it made me feel so nauseous. Why do I have such feelings? I know... I just wanted the consolation and intimacy.  There's not much I can do against such feelings. L. made me feel at place even he was living abroad and not where I live. Still he suggested that if there ever was anything bothering me or I wanted to escape my life a little, I could turn to him. I don't think anyone has ever told me that, except M. of course. He was generous, helpful and lovely... and I felt like shooting my heart and feelings out of myself. I was only causing harm upon myself with my rediculous thoughts. I want to find blades, I want to buy them. I think I will. I want to wash away this confusion, this 'screaming torment', this thrist which will always leave me thirsty.|||2||
1125025046|enigma|Self-hatred|Dearest diary,<br /><br />Why do I even title you as 'dear'. At least I get the feeling I have stories to tell and share with someone even you're not real. I was going to say how much I hate myself and I sure will a lot more tomorrow. I don't take in medications and maybe they are good for me but I don't give a damn. I always have the sensation when I use pills I'm abusing them. Perhaps I'm not even that unhealthy. I found out today by a uncomfortable uncomfortness in my tummy that my period has arrived. I may not have normal menstruations anymore, still the pain didn't entirely disappear. Pain always needs to be involved or else things aren't in place. Or nothing is 'right'. It wasn't a pleasure when I had to leave the house to get my brother's prescription his doctor gave him as I was feeling rather weak. He placed me two choice like some god. If I said no, I would have to spend a night without being online, what would not be bearable for me. I'm not so active online, still the idea of being on the Internet was nice. Everything was in my reach, there was a lot I could access. Without the computer, it was choking and I can't do much offline. There's nothing else I can do.<br /><br />I still have a few journal entries of the past days that needs to be written down. Because tomorrow I have to wake up early (my appointment is around nine o'clock), I can't write anything right now. I have to do my hair, fill in some stupid forms, get some clothes out of my messed up closet. There's a lot I want to have written down. Maybe I will take in some pills to feel calmed. I will be stressed and quite sweaty in there. I'm terrified actually. I'm crossing my fingers. May all evil stay away from me, though whatever I say will probably just attract things more.<br /><br />I'm listening to a few songs L. sent me yesterday or two days ago when we were talking. I haven't talked to him ever since... but he's on. I only don't feel like I have the right to start any conversations. You see, I never find myself worthy to be or do anything. What if they find my annoying, what if no one wants to talk to me? So if they are interested, I prefer them getting back to me, it will save me from feeling bloody and the punishment afterwards. All I find myself allowed to do, is sit and wait till someone tells me I can have candy. You do know what I mean, you do, don't you? I downloaded more songs... and also a few of Linkin Park but Chester's screaming soon started giving me a headache. They do have some nice songs despite me not listening to them as much as I did year(s) ago.<br /><br />If I'm not hallucinating, M. was in my dream last night. He smsed me and I felt all my emails and smses were pointless as he was okay. I didn't have to worry the way I did. Maybe he is alright... I think of him a lot and he has to be alright. <br /><br />Today wasn't my day, I broke two nails. I think the post office girl secret envy made me pay. I was out to have some fresh air too but the angry look on faces are intimidating. With my head low, trying as much as I can not to have contact I sought a way through the crowds of the daily life. In spite of my efforts of trying to become air so people won't notice me, I met a woman my parents know. We walked passed each other in the grocery store, as I tried to show the impression I was too busy to identify someone. But when I was putting the shoppings in the bag quickly (I wasn't quick enough), she came greeting, asking me one by one for a familymember (how's your mum doing, how's your brother doing, how's your grandmother doing). Nervosity attacked me and I couldn't find the right words. It happens, it happens. I was happy when she left and I could safely walk home. Only <i>after</i> crossing the roads of traffic, I felt safe. I was afraid of everything that was fast and noisy, traffic is. <br /><br />Remember the girl from the community, who emailed me? She also intimidates me. I saw her diary and saw how she looked like. Definitely not like I pictured her in my mind. She looks very happy... I feel so left out in everything. I only feel okay when people are going through shit and are depressed. It's bad, it is. It makes others believe I like seeing people suffering but I don't. I only don't like feeling like I'm the only one. I always need to have the idea, the comfort that a machine can tear my flesh apart without me screaming. That is, if someone has done that before me, it motivated me that I could also.<br /><br />I'm sorry I always seem in a hurry. I do have a lot to catch in with you. If you have patience...|||2||
1124921486|enigma|Library|Dearest diary,<br /><br />The computer is not working at home that's why I have decided to come to the library, especially when my mum sent me out to do a few stuff for her. I only have a few minutes left, I hope I can write something down or to you. I couldn't finish my last entry as I was talking to L. for a really long while. He has really kept me awake because I didn't dare to tell him I felt sleepy. It's not that I wanted to go to bed, I also liked talking to him. Now I am thinking the weirdest things also. I am goofy, aren't I? I most certainly am. <br /><br />I wrote everything I wanted to write from the last entry I didn't finish, in a book which I hoped to copy but my brother mold the pc, if that's the correct word to use. It won't go on when I press the button. Hopefully he will fix it or else I will die being unable to come online. There are countless of things to tell you again but be patient, I will tell you when I can. Whenever the pc is working again.<br /><br />It's rather hot today... and you know, I had a woman in the post office commenting on my nails. She said 'they are really long, can you do anything with them?' I nodded smilingly as I later found myself explaining that my nails didn't always grow long on the left hand. It was really sweet of her. I know her and she has also cut her hair nicely. I am not close to her to compliment her on her nice haircut.<br /><br />As I'm sitting there's a girl on my left side, constantly glaring at me. I can feel her... now she has her face turned away. She pauses awhile to glare at her sister or friend to later look back a little at me typing. I don't mind, I have to write, though it does make me nervous.<br /><br />This week is my father's birthday... I don't feel like congratulating him, should I? It doesn't really come from the heart. I don't know... but I am so indifferent about it. Am I evil to feel this way? He hasn't ever allowed us to throw a big party or to even bring my friends over even I didn't really have friends. Thanks to him I am not so much these days. By the way, I am thinking of waiting a little while. I know I should. It's better that way...<br /><br />A girl I knew from last year on the community, mailed me. I replied her back immediately. I wondered why she contacted me but I'm honoured she did so. Somehow someone is thinking of me and that is nice. My fingers are starting to hurt now as I am trying hard my best to type as quick as I can to be able to finish before I run out of credits. I promise you I will write some other time. World is so crazy, you know? Oh yes it is. Or maybe it is that I am crazy and that my visions make everything look crazy. Perhaps it is that way. In anyway I am crazy.|||2||
1124863770|enigma|Intimacy|In spite of my cussing all over a few entries, I wasn't really the hard type of chick from the street. I know that if you're upset, you do well into expressing it or else it may cause damage when you hold it in. That's how I lecture me. Having this journal gave me so much possibility to be whatever I wanted to. I'm saying this because sometimes I felt very awkward using big words, and I had to camouflage some of them.<br /><br />This was my interlude to comment on the topic sex which I camouflaged with intimacy. Two bloggers I have linked commented on each others entries speaking about this huge topic. I know they are earthly girls who I find intimidating in social environment as they are open, lively with girl problems sometimes, also with an open sexual intercourse. I secretly differ from them though I keep mingling myself with other people, adapting myself to feel a bit comfortable. One was advicing the other who was having a broken heart to fuck the guy without emotion.|||2||
1124848664|enigma|Journals|Though I don't post on my boards anymore, sometimes I go back there to read all the posts I ever posted. I either recall something I didn't know I had done or I read something which surprises me that I ever wrote it. I went there and saw two guests posted. I never really bother to read guests posts as sometimes it could be people (members, I think) who try to provoke more postings by accessing the board as a guest. It once happened how someone posted and later one came bashing the member and both under the same IP. I saw a link in one of the member's profile, it led me to a journal. I like signatures or when someone has a website, that way I can learn more about them as a person. I had read her diary before, except I never posted as I couldn't. You have to register to post comments so that's what I did. I sacrificed a few minutes to create a stupid profile and tried to be very superficial so she wouldn't think it was me when she checks my diary. I didn't sign off with a name, only a sign I sometimes like using. I like reading and the mind of a human stays fascinating. We have both good and bad things inside and I like to discover the answer on the question 'why?'. <br /><br />I was told to better take the citalopram. I am doubting. Why should I take it if it doesn't make me feel well? I'm thinking, it could be my period. During the time of the month I feel lots of gass in my stomach, maybe it's not the medication. I shall see by next week. I have an appointment this Friday with 'authorities'. How else can I name people who want to decide things for you? I don't feel like going. I want to cancel the date to a time in the future but still I don't feel like going. It's hard to talk to someone while they don't know anything what you're feeling or going through to even understand you or to adjust theirself a bit to you, without hurting you. I once talked to a foreign man there. When I got home I told Al. about it on MSN as I started crying and I kept crying for being so stupid and quickly hurt. He told me I was distant and shy that I needed to open up if I want to be something in the society but really rudely. I don't remember it perfectly but it was last year. I never went back. I hate to say that I'm not really okay. They don't really understand and in all cases they ask me for proves. I will see what I will do.<br /><br />The summer is gone. It's like there hasn't been any summer. I thought I'd sunbathe for a very long time. It's okay though. We still have heaters all around the house and I can still take warm showers when I feel cold. Under the shower and in the toilet are the weirdest places where I sometimes feel inspired. Seriously. I don't know why... maybe because you have the chance to be quiet and follow your thoughts better. I can't do that in my bedroom where my mother is repeatedly walking in and out on me. I'm in a writer's block for not having my own space.<br /><br />My mother got anxious this afternoon. You could hear it by her hysterious voice that changed volume and speed. She'd whisper to later speak louder as she was glaring at the roof shouting 'but I don't do anything to you why do you have to pay attention to all that I do everyday, and keep making cutting noises like you want to see me dead and that knocking you did, following me everywhere' and so forth. I was on the computer at the moment and ignored her, now and then smiling as it was rather sad to see someone loose it by their assumptions as to me, there wasn't anything really that should bother her. But then I got mad when she was on the phone with my eldest brother a few minutes later. She had texted him to call her. 'Even enigma woke up screaming in the evening because of the things this man does. We stay up every night till late because the man doesn't let us sleep either'. <i>What?</i> I thought. What a <b>big</b> lie. I wrote about this somewhere here. That day when that happened I was having a weird dream and why would I wake up screaming by some asshole who wasn't here inside this house? And I was up every night to write a journal entry. What's wrong with my mother? She takes all events and uses them to give sense to her 'craziness'. It was disturbing to see her on the phone with my brother, I am sure he laughed when he hung up on her. He is the one who would make joke about everything. My mother held the phone a few centimeters from her ear as she dictated all the past events starting from June with a very anxious voice that sometimes couldn't find the right words. My brother told her to call the police so he won't murder us. He is joking, right? He is. My mum definitely needed to get  out often and she can't do that alone. I am the one who has to accompany her. <br /><br />I woke up an hour ago and heard her telling me: 'Why don't you say anything about it, enigma?' <br /><br />I frowned and tried to block my ears. <br /><br />'You see him, you know what he's doing is wrong, why don't you defend me?'<br /><br />'You will see, one day when you find me dead, then you will understand but it's too late. God watches and knows everything'. <br /><br />Sometimes I felt like I was in a creepy movie like Carrie where her mother constantly tells her what the devil does if she succumbs to him. *shivers* Things haven't been like this before. But today it was aweful as everyday my mum has something to say about the neighbour who lives above us. I hope my brother will dare (he once said he would) go up to his house to speak to him, so my mum could leave this all behind. She mightn't.|||2||
1124818606|enigma|Truth|I want to clarify that I did tell my mother of M.'s existence, but lied about the details and she thinks we're just friends very attached to each other. I wanted to, as I hoped she would have dreams (she is more open to things like this than I), and be able to give me some news about him. <br /><br />I phoned my psychologist. Probably next week I'll have a conversation with her. She may refer me to someone else. The one I'm refered to is on vacation at the moment so I thought it would be best to start off at the beginning again and see how things will go. I also never really went into therapy. Where they give you little tasks or place you in group therapies. It was always a chat filling the huge space of being an unemployeed weirdo. Maybe I will know now what it is and how good and bad its effect is. The last time I was with her was in January. It's been more than 7 months. I am so bad.|||2||
1124795490|enigma|Bad reaction|I woke up. Was it that the world suddenly had a different structure? Was it painted now? I turned on my right side to be convinced different and felt how a stomach cramp turned along with me. As I started to release myself of a dream, a nausea attacked me. 'How come' I wondered. Not that I never have nauseas. I often have it when I don't eat, in the early morning or because I ate something that simply I needed to avoid. I remembered what I ate. Not what you would eat though at night. I was terribly hungry I ate 4 slices of bread. Two with cheese. I thought my mum was going to prepare a tuna salad, so I said 'alright, I'll have a bit of that too'. Thanks mum. She didn't prepare any tuna salad. But something that could be the reason I am sick now... or it could be the anti-depressiva my doctor gave me. Citalopram needs to be taken at night, even I can't say when precisely but I took it before sleeping. I woke up showing these symptons:<br /><br />*I'm shaking<br />*I have a headache<br />*I have stomachaches<br />*My stomach burns<br />*I feel dizzy<br />*I feel sick<br />*My nose is running<br />*I have diarrhea<br />*I'm getting tearyeyed to the point I feel like everything can come out of my eyes or from whatever part of my body :-s<br />*I feel like burping the whole time<br />*Abnormal thoughts: I'd describe such thoughts as having your mind holding up an image before you sleep and having you dreaming all night about it. Like for example: You saw a sheep on tv. So in your dream, you dream of sheep in the sky, sheep in the room, sheep there, sheep here. A sort of obsessive thought. Except it's not violent as I sometimes have. It only happens when I feel fragile or sick.<br /><br />I doubted about what medication to use to help me against the pains. I wanted to take ibuprofen for the tummycramps but instead I used one of the pills I have left to prevent me from having diarrhea.<br /><br />These are my current medication stats I'm on and I will not proceed with antidepressiva's for sure:<br /><br />*Microgynon 30 (birth control pill: recommended because of cramps I have during my periods)<br />*Ibuprofen 200mg (for all possible pains I have I havent told a doctor about)<br />*Paracetamol/Telynol (500mg, only a substitute for Ibuprofen if I don't have any)<br />*Loperamidehydrochloride 2mg (against diarrhea)<br />*Diclofenacnatrium 25mg (it was a painkiller after my surgery)<br />*Oxazepam 10mg (I only used 10 of the pills, to calm me)<br />*Chlordiazepoxide 10mg (substitutes Oxazepam and seems to be stronger, I won't be using it either)<br />*Citalopram 20mg (anti-depressiva)<br /><b>Updated 8th October</b>:<br />* Efexor 75mg (replacing Citalopram, used one pill)<br />* Diazepam (Valium) 2mg (haven't used it yet)<br /><br />I bought a few pills I have never used, they are not worth listing. I'm really sick and I'm sleepy. I didn't manage to finish my previous entry as I got tired. I don't think overdosing would help me to get rid of this life. I felt sick already by one stupid pill. That is, if it's the reason I'm feeling this way, if it's not what I ate. I hope I will vomit to have everything out and clean my stomach. I know I never do so. I haven't in so many long years.<br /><br />It could be that cheese doesn't mix well with tuna. I should've known and I do crazier things than that. I drank tea, while I was drinking cold juice. Of course I'd get cramps, though I can't understand why it occurs now.|||2||
1124775742|enigma|M.|I miss M. incredibly. I want to scream it all out untill my lungs break and I suffocate for skipping a breath. I want to cry so badly till it is storming on this planet and all the oceans rise up filled with my tears, causing floods. But above all, I wish to find him. So crying is not good and dying wouldn't be a good option, considering death may shackle me in nothingness while I want to remember and know him. I miss talking to him so much. I hope my soul would always remember his voice and the promises and confessions he made to me, regardless of them being lies or truths. He always showed he cared by ringing me up or texting. He will always be dear, always you will be. He will always be the most important, as we shared something special and unusual. Something I've never shared with anyone before, something none allowed me to share with them and I love him for the person he's been to me, though happy but probably holding a lot inside sometimes. I was too selfish to understand.<br /><br />I met someone. He found me on MF and thought it would be interesting to add a few people, including me. I wasn't going to but thought it may be Al. trying to break into my life or someone else I knew. We had a lovely conversation. He is not defensive what I like of him and when I try to correct him or give him my opinion, he doesn't act mean or selfish, like he knows better. He is kind of very easy going and sort of humorous too.  He likes my views and thoughts, I felt special. I told him I'm just logic and I read often though curiosity 'killed the cat' as A. once said to me. He's spiritual orientated what is nice (it's like I'm rating a flavor of a brand, talking about him :-s). He has all qualities I wish for in 'someone'. I don't want to say what I'm thinking but in my head, it appeared I had another victim in mind who... I don't wish to say. I was honest with him and told him I suffered of depression. Better admit it firstly, than later having them found out and dumping you. And it's easier to do so online than offline. I always told people I felt would maybe have a big role in my life, otherwise I didn't. I kept on pretending I was nothing different. I will title him with L. though in no way it refered to his real name or nickname. He didn't say anything back like he didn't mind. I just got an apology that he was going to do something else, sadly. I hoped I would be kept busy till M. appeared.<br /><br />I had to bring a visit to my doctor this morning which I did. I went as early as I could to be able to speak to him firstly. He is very superficial and easy to be fooled but someone I feel comfortable with despite my nervosity that kept me shuddering as I sat facing him behind his desk. <br />'So, what can I do for you?' I can clearly remember him greeting me. He also liked to title me as 'young lady' which sounded nice actually. Kind of old-fashioned and I am, partially. I replied (refreshing his memory) why I was here again. He checked on me and constatated I had to go to the hospital what I knew way before he even did the churgery on me. 'We're going to make work of it' he encouraged me. 'In which hospital do you want to be?' he asked writing quickly a few unreadable things down. I noticed he was lefthanded and remembered Eminem was. <i>Don't lefthanders die young, they say?</i><br />'The hospital in where I was born is fine, doesn't it have a different name nowadays?' I wondered.<br />'Correctly' he said all professionally. I took the time to have him write everything down first before asking him for other pills. When he was almost done I quickly said: 'Two weeks ago you gave me a few tranquilizers, I'm through them already. Only they didn't work' I lied, hoping to have him give another medication I had knowledge of. 'Uhmmm, I don't really feel calmed. I do have more sleepingproblems, it appears' which is actually the truth. 'Really?' he answered. 'Okay, then I will give you something stronger'. He looked in the computer to find out he prescribed me Oxazepam in the beginning so he'd be able to give me something else. He scribbled something down and I kept thinking of other ways to have him prescribe me more medication. 'Do you worry about something?' he wondered. I didn't understand that and out of politeness I 'mmm'-ed as if I didn't want to be honest. When he said yes, I said too. 'Wouldn't you like to talk to a psychologist some time?' he went on questioning me. I think I didn't say anything. 'Have you ever been there?'<br />'Yes, of course but I didn't proceed with the therapies.' I told him the place and how I didn't remember the name of my psychologist (it's been month since I last saw her and she's not my real one, she was there to introduce me to the whole programm). 'Okay, I'm going to give you another reference letter. It might help' etc. etc. I tried my next shot. 'But some of them have asked me whether it would be an option for me to use anti-depressiva's as it would be helpful' I dared him. 'No' he said disappointing me. 'It's best you talk first to a psychologist, though...' I felt he changed his mind. 'I will put that one for you down'. I felt like jumping high and reach a cloud.  Another few lines were spoken and I happily found my way out after shaking hand and saying goodbye as I were able to get two medication from him, though I will throw them out of my window. I mean, I won't use none of them.|||2||
1124697549|enigma|Emptiness|Unless I've written something, I can't crawl into bed. And why should I go to that place? I would only be spending a restless few hours, fighting few images that passed me by like movies scenes behind my closed eyes. That is when I wake up, that I can see that. Dreams are as vivid as the reality. If you could lock me in it, pretending it was real, I would not doubt it. Rarely have I had lucid dreams to remember that it was all a dream. I'm annoyed by anything lately. It was like something was stuck in my stomach, like sickness. I wanted to pull it out, that slymery stick. It felt like it and it made me feel sick. I am still longing to vomit and be clean.<br /><br />I have a deep longing and it makes me disappear into mournings. Countless times I repeat to myself that self-pleasure is wrong. It isn't. I am only telling myself I haven't done anything to have self-pleasure as a reward, so I must keep my hands away from it. I'm hungry and thirsty for this bond, something near me. It's sad I can't have it or him close. I don't want to talk about it, except saying that thinking about it, made me feel so relaxed, calmed and beautiful. I thought that doing many things made you beautiful. There should be a working, general verb saying so: Today.. I beautified myself and everyone would know what I'm talking about. Or he beautified me to a point I felt I was going to die or I could not grasp the depth of it.<br /><br />If your life has meaning, you'd know as when you would answer the question what you'd miss if you die, you would be able to answer it. I can't really. I would only feel sorry I couldn't have met a soulmate, knowing that crazy people like me do walk around on this planet. I wished I had this magnetic stone to attract him or her, I would've been satisfied. I don't feel... 'real'. Do ask me why happiness would make me feel real. I can't tell. Perhaps because you shared it with someone. If you spend your time in emptiness, you will feel yourself transforming, becoming it. Then you doubt your existence. Funny, right now, infront of this computer. I am not feeling like I am alive. Therefor I feel I can write everything, it wouldn't matter as no one knows me and there's no one who can read. I don't feel there's anyone out there except me in this nothingness as I am nothingness and there's nothing else than me. Do you understand me?<br /><br />My feelings were sometimes so embarrassing and intense, I didn't dare to speak them out loud. Even my thoughts, I tried to limit them when people were walking in the room and out (as if they could see them). Still they brought me some consolation. I hated it that there was someone out there who possibly cared about me and had to be away for so long. I was so sad and lost that any arms would do well as shelter. I would let myself go if I know someone cares, even they are just words. I always say at least you've used such formulated phrases on me, that means a lot as I'm so lost.|||2||
1124695869|enigma|Survey|<b>HOW OFTEN DO YOU CRY?</b><br />Since I have 'changed', I cry daily, if not, then I do so weekly. I have all reasons to.<br /><br /><b>WHAT MAKES YOU CRY THE EASIEST?</b><br />Deep music. My thoughts. Memories. The way my life is. People. Almost everything. Mainly M.<br /><br /><b>WHAT MAKES YOU REALLY HAPPY?</b><br />When a child smiles at me or comes towards me, though I feel awkward, like I can contaminate it with my darkness. But it shows me something beautiful, a little tiny connection till it's broken. I also feel happy when I'm close to someone I dearly love. Just to hear his voice and his laughter, it is what kind of awakes me out of my deathdream or -sleep. It makes life run into me. Something that feels really nice. What would REALLY make me happy, would always be to have someone you love, very close. Skin against skin. Heartbeat near heartbeat.<br /><br /><b>HAS ANYONE CLOSE TO YOU EVER DIED?</b><br />Mostly elderlies. My grandparents on mother's side, later her aunt. I wasn't too close to them to experience it as a loss. I only felt weird to sense them warm and the next day cold, in the coffin where they lied. I wonder what was inside their body and where it went. Or whether it died. I don't know. Hard to grasp death.<br /><br /><b>HAS ANYBODY CLOSE TO YOU EVER COMMITTED SUICIDE?</b><br />I knew two people but they weren't close, like in best friend or anything that would change people's life a little.<br /><br /><b>HAVE YOU EVER CRIED OVER THE DEATH OF A CELEBRITY?</b><br />I felt sad when Princess Diana died. I can't remember I cried. Also Aaliyah's death shocked me. How would she have experienced the hungry, hot flames wrapped around her flesh with one purpose she would never be able to change?<br /><br /><b>WHAT WOULD BE THE SCARIEST WAY TO DIE, IN YOUR OPINION?</b><br />All slow deaths are terrifying. Or seeing a horrible death coming onto you but being unable to do something, other than just facing it. Knowledge is scary.|||2||
1124694522|enigma|Model|I don't always see the point of such tv-shows but they help my boredom. America's Next Top Model was just on. It is so entertaining untill I found out a few review sites and saw who won. All the fun was taken away from it as I know precisely what's going to happen. Looking at this show with a neutral vision, it is nice that girls are given the opportunity to show theirself to the world, to become someone important. But it doesn't have to be the only way. This one is the easiest, so it's a wonderful chance for them to prove what they have.<br /><br />My favorite model of cycle three was probably Amanda (the girl who'd be blind at her 30's), she's very sweet and has something girlish, aside of her bright, gorgeous blue eyes. I could've understand though when they eliminated her in the last round. She doesn't radiate anything powerful or strong. Actually, I don't find any of the girls possessing great potentials to become a model. They are just model in making. Perhaps if this show was done over some years, there would've been a real competition as the best would compete against the best. The most annoying and irritating girl was Yaya, without doubt. Just the way she brags about her intelligence, of knowing a lot but one of the funniest contradiction is the umebushi case. It was offensive (not respectful as you say, Yaya), to spit out the product you were supposed to swallow. You're a model. If you want to become someone, you will always have to be submissive to people's rules, at the end it will bring you to where you want to go. For those who care about living and becoming someone. Eva is lovely too. Kind of a hypocrite sometimes. At the end she had to battle for the ANTM-title with Yaya. Amanda suprisingly had to leave the scene. Fortunately, Eva won. I'm glad. That just shows Yaya that arrogance doesn't bring you anywhere.<br /><br />If I were to participate in such contests (though I can never predict how I will behave, I simply can't), I would have shown something different. If I had the potentials, I would've worked it all out at my best. Since I'm a quiet girl and don't like discussions (groups intimidate me), I'd probably try to stay aside untill I were asked something. I think that would've brought Yaya far. She was way better than Eva, she ruined it all for herself.|||2||
1124646066|enigma|Pills|Maybe tomorrow I can get hold of more and better pills. I am not sleeping, it's aggravating. I get headache, feel very irritated. I don't feel okay. Al. was in a dream. I think she was just a shadow in the dark I followed, sort of. I can't remember, as always. *yawns* I'm trying to wake up as I'm sleepy... maybe it's the bed, it's not comfortable to sleep in. Yesterday I took the chance hurriedly to download a few mp3's to depress myself. I will put them all down as I will be replacing them with a few new ones. My brother's girlfriend will leave today, apparently. She should. I am tired of hiding away from her. Having to see her or greet her, would make me feel crappy. I know I do crazy things being ant-social. Sometimes I do anything to not have to greet anyone I either meet outside or who come visiting us. I pretend I'm sick. She may probably think that I don't like her or that I'm bitchy. Whatever. Everyone thinks bad about me. Which is cool. It's better than thinking good, I'm 'no good'.<br /><br /><img src="divmijn.jpg"><br /><br /><font face="Wingdings 2"></font> = favorite song<br /><font face="Wingdings">*</font> = sent by a friend<br /><font color="red"><b>X</b></font> = terrible song<br /><font color="white"><b>?</b></font> =mediocore<br /><ol><br /><li>Nirvana- Smells like teen spirit</li><br /><li>Nirvana- Lithium <font face="Wingdings 2"></font> </li><br /><li>The police- Message in a bottle (deleted)</li><br /><li>The police- Murder by numbers (deleted)</li><br /><li>U2- With or without you</li><br /><li>U2- I still haven't found what I'm looking for (deleted)</li><br /><li>Celine Dion- Because you loved me (deleted)</li><br /><li>Pat Benatar- Love is a battlefield (deleted)</li><br /><li>R.E.M- Everybody hurts (deleted)</li><br /><li>Duran Duran- Ordinary world <font face="Wingdings 2"></font> </li><br /><li>Seal- Kiss on a rose</li><br /><li>Sting- Desert rose (deleted)</li><br /><li>Madonna- Deeper and deeper</li><br /><li>Madonna- Bad girl</li><br /><li>Pantera- Are you there <font face="Wingdings 2"></font> </li><br /><li>Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon ost- Farewell</li><br /><li>Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon ost- To the south <font color="red"><b>X</b></font> </li><br /><li>Coco Lee- A love before time <font color="white"><b>?</b></font></li><br /><li>Dido- Life for rent (deleted)</li><br /><li>Enya- Pilgrim <font face="Wingdings 2"></font> </li><br /><li>Enya- Fallen embers (deleted)</li><br /><li>Roxette- It must've been love <font face="Wingdings 2"></font> </li><br /><li>Sergio Mendes- Magalenha (deleted)</li><br /><li>Incubus- Nowhere fast <font face="Wingdings 2"></font> </li><br /><li>Incubus- Megalomaniac <font face="Wingdings 2"></font> </li><br /><li>Incubus- Wish you were here </li><br /><li>Incubus- Idiot box</li>|||2||
1124601564|enigma|Pilgrim|<b>Pilgrim</b> by <i>Enya</i><br /><br />Pilgrim, how you journey <br />On the road you chose <br />To find out why the winds die <br />And where the stories go. <br />All days come from one day <br />That much you must know, <br />You cannot change what's over <br />But only where you go. <br /><br />One way leads to diamonds, <br />One way leads to gold, <br />Another leads you only <br />To everything you're told. <br />In your heart you wonder <br />Which of these is true; <br />The road that leads to nowhere, <br />the road that leads to you. <br /><br />Will you find the answer <br />in all you say and do? <br />Will you find the answer <br />In you? <br /><br />Each heart is a pilgrim, <br />Each one wants to know <br />The reason why the winds die <br />And where the stories go. <br />Pilgrim, in your journey <br />You may travel far, <br />For pilgrim it's a long way <br />To find out who you are... <br /><br />Pilgrim, it's a long way <br />To find out who you are... <br /><br />Pilgrim, it's a long way <br />To find out who you are... <br />|||2||
1124581993|enigma|Untitled|Can't be creative with the subjects of my journals, 'untitled' will have to do for now. I kind of feel very 'lonely' currently. The rest are out, and I've been trying to upload a few poems but I don't feel like doing so. I feel really tired. I had loads of cramps a few minutes ago. I'm fine now. I wish I could entertain myself or had a nice company. I wouldn't enjoy it, I know. I always find a reason to not have fun. And if I do, I punish myself harder after. People eventually do it for me, if I don't.|||2||
1124552824|enigma|Love words|This thread was started on the group. And as I don't write over there (I don't find myself worthy to), I will answer all the questions over here, where it's safer. I walked down town with a small booknote a friend gave to me before she left to her country (she has so many cute drawings in it) and pen, writing all the beautiful names I were once called. The bad ones are always the most.<br /><br /><b>All the pretty names I were ever called</b>:<br />Liar, ungrateful, doubtful, tormented, depressed, lonely, unsure, negative, pessimistic, changeable, untrustworthy, disloyal, betrayer, immature, selfish, stupid, silent, dishonest, brutal, bad-mouthed, anti-social, self-absorbed, dirty, filthy, boring, two-faced, inconsiderate, greedy, gluttonous, ugly, superficial, immoral, sad, hurtful, slow, low, depended, obsessive, wimp, boy, fucked, judgemental, idiot, whore, bitch, lesbian, lazy, indifferent, hard, cold, cold-hearted, black-hearted, heartless, evil livered, gay, cry baby, handicapped, hypocrital, catty, insensitive, rude, demon, avoidant, annoying, bad company, self-centered, egoistic, clingy, complaining, distant, donkey, pig, cheap, crazy, shameless, angry, street whore, brainless, horny, coward, old whore, on heat, cunt, beast, cruel, animal, nigger, weird, perfectionistic, picky, grumpy, introverted, dramaqueen, daring, possessed, limped, stinky, ignorant, abuser, demanding, poser, pert, terrible, fucker, lip-puller, dead spirited, bad attitude, angered, moron, big whore, tiresome, dull, intolerant, dead, spoilt, nasty, burdensome, strict, malicious.<br /><br />There are more but I can't translate all of them in English. They all sound 'cruel' all together as I'm not all of them. My mother is also the one who seems to be the most creative in calling me names. I can now see how abusive all these words have been to me and how hurt I feel rereading some of them back.|||2||
1124548096|enigma|Untitled|I slept terrible. It's very hard to sleep comfortable. I can't remember when I went to bed, probably around 11 pm. My head feels slightly heavy and it will be more. I already told my mom that the weekend is a cleaning day. So no food. I'm also weighing 59.3kg now, sadly. I will make sure those numbers go down. I can, therefor I will. I am also starting to notice that I <i>am</i> slim. Some jeans don't longer fit me around the waist. Some of them don't or can't use belt, and I wear them like that, having to later constantly pull them up like some junkie. I act like a junkie and I bet I also look like one, when others see me. I told my mother yesterday that when my dad was here I would weigh 53kg. A psychologist or this schooldoctor/-nurse checked on all of us, especially the newcomers. She told me I was too tall to weigh so less. I never noticed I was slim. Even remembering an incident and I told my mother about it too. I would stand among a few classmates wearing a very tight sweater and underneath it a very wide jean that simply didn't sit on my waist despite the belt I'd use. You could visibly see the 'huge' pleat. I think they laughed at me and I just smiled back. I again thought this wasn't a big deal. No, I didn't own a fashion taste either.<br /><br />My mother bought a new phone and wants me to trade mine (originally hers, untill I got in touch with M.) with the new one. I would've liked to but M. only has the old number and it wouldn't be good to switch now. I'd rather hear of him first. As I was lying down in bed, rocking myself (I do that a lot to calm myself down), my mother took out my tarot cards to make me take a card out for him. I thought to myself that right is the side considered good, left usually isn't. I picked one from right even I didn't want to do a tarot reading at all but well, probably I had to. It was a card that only confirmed my thoughts. It's not that he <i>no</i> longer wants to talk to me, he simply couldn't. I hope he'd soon be able to.<br /><br />I don't really fancy my brother's girlfriend. I never fancied any of them as none are respectful, polite like me. This isn't arrogance. I always like others to have a good impression of me. I like to show I have manners and to be respected but none of my brother's girl know such words as reservedness. I don't want to go into details, it would be gossiping. Nor am I judgemental. Probably she's nice, but they aren't the type of girls I had as friend at school. They are those girls who'd give you a forced smile and later ramble on about the clothes you have on. School was a painful memory.<br /><br />I had a dream where I was at highschool, walking through large halls untill I was at the frontdoor, outside, about to go home. I said goodbye to a girl. <br />I erased a part of this entry as I felt I didn't have the right to write about them. I am so tired and I miss M. heaps.|||2||
1124455507|enigma|Hurt|<b>Hurt</b> by Nine Inch Nails<br /><br />I hurt myself today<br />to see if I still feel<br />I focus on the pain<br />the only thing that's real<br />the needle tears a hole<br />the old familiar sting<br />try to kill it all away<br />but I remember everything<br /><br />what have I become?<br />my sweetest friend<br />everyone I know<br />goes away in the end<br />you could have it all<br />my empire of dirt<br />I will let you down<br />I will make you hurt<br /><br />I wear this crown of shit <br />upon my liar's chair<br />full of broken thoughts<br />I cannot repair<br />beneath the stains of time<br />the feeling disappear<br />you are someone else<br />I am still right here<br /><br />what have I become?<br />my sweetest friend<br />everyone I know<br />goes away in the end<br /><br />you could have it all<br />my empire of dirt<br />I will let you down<br />I will make you hurt<br />if I could start again<br />a million miles away<br />I would keep myself<br />I would find a way|||2||
1124455007|enigma|What's good, what's wrong?|<b>Another situation</b>: So, if you're in a life-death situation, like a serial killer about to kill you. Imagine him walking towards you with a gun in his pocket and knife in his hand to slice you open (think of Copycat). You're cornered at a place where there are no doors or windows, such are far away, behind your killer. The only thing you have is this huge, heavy container hanging above your head. The remote control is the only thing in your reach. What would be right to do? Continue standing as your killer was drawing closer with a robe to tie you and later you'd be experiencing the horror of being cut open alive. Or would you push the button and let the container crush you before he does so, and die within seconds what wouldn't happen if you tolerate someone to murder you. Will you still be judged by a choice you made and come in hell, just because you chose a quick death, to not have to experience pain? A (forced) suicide? I don't know... You could also run into him and kick him in between the legs but you'd risk to have him shoot you with his gun right after. That is if you're smart and if he is... but what if in other cases you don't think of anything else? Will you be judged on your ignorance? Is submission that rewards? Is it really?? Is enduring pain what promises a lot? <br /><br />Suicide cases all differ in intensity, reasons, as it's something personal. Pain is relative. Well, isn't it??<br /><br /><i>Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something</i>- Westley, from The Princess Bride|||2||
1124452117|enigma|Morning|My hands smell like cheese as I ate some in sandwiches just now. Though I hardly drink any juices, sodas or teas (I rarely do), I decided to drink orange juice which is usually the drink I avoid because it's so acid. If I could learn to take long hours over food, I'd have something to do and the day would fly and I wouldn't be eating so much. <br /><br />I spent the whole day almost in bed when my brother's girlfriend arrived. I can't bring it up to be among people, strangers. I don't like making friends, it means I'd have to be friendly and during these times I had other things on my mind than playing dress up games (to not have to say I must pretend). My mum came warning me when she was about to go to bed and so I was able to come online when she went to sleep. Now I'm here in the livingroom where everything is (my cds, books, computer). I found a book on the couch. I started doubting my memory as it's not acting too healthy. If I have to recite everything that happened on a day, I wouldn't be able to. Depends though. I kept surprising myself.<br /><br />The book. Yes. It wasn't mine. It was hers. It laid on its back as if to hide the frontcover. I turned it around to see for sure if it wasn't one of my library books but it was a book I can still remember I had read when I was quite young during the classes of a teacher named 'Gilbert'. I remember I'd sometimes title her as 'Gillen' (is a verb in Dutch which means 'scream/screaming') as that's what she would do. She doesn't talk but she shouts. I had to do an essay, at least a sort of a review on the book where we get presented a set of questions which you could only answer if you had read the book in its entireness. The story is sad. It's about a boy who gets bullied at school. Another guy feels sympathy for him. There are many sorts of sympathy. I can name two: pity and compassion. When you have pity, I think you're forced to do something just to be kind. Compassion can be a sincere caring, where the others wellbeing is important. I know pity and compassion may have similiar meanings but I define words by the emotions they call when I pronounce them. That's also how I usually try to guess an unknown word's definition. The guy who became friends with the bullied boy does so out of pity. At the end, friend is just a word. Everyone seems to have the same treacherous face and he commits suicide (drowns himself in a lake). <i>Then</i> the guy will have regret and blames himself. Kind of to make yourself angry about. It's realistic though. That's how the world behaves. I finished it rather quickly and later on I tried to read more books from the author.<br /><br />I accidentally rebooted, I almost lost all my writings. I managed to save it before it would get lost (popups were filling the screen and they make the pc freeze up on me) when closing other windows.<br /><br />If I wasn't afraid to hang myself, I would. Instead I'm trying a method that is so complicated. I gain information everywhere or by two sources and both are saying completely different things. It discourages me. If I was to hang myself, I'd just need a rope and tie a noose and there I go. I would only have a bit of damage around my neck. But doing poison will damage probably, or most definitely everything in me. The sadness that brought me could be explained that sometimes I saw my body as another person and I didn't want to hurt it. I already did... with automutilating and medication abuse, also eating and starvation. I only want to get rid of me and this was the only way, either it was me or someone else.<br /><br />Without doubt, I was incredibly frightened. I think I may postpone the date to a time further in the future, to replace the order I did wrong. I may not want to go right now but things will happen to upset me and I will see the reasons again why it's no good for me to stay. As long as I wasn't here in January, it's all fine. If I postponed the date, perhaps M. would show up too, I hoped so much for that. If not, I would still email him and let him know. And carry on hoping to see a glimpse of him anywhere or to meet up with him, could it be he gave up unable to tell me.<br /><br />You know, the whole preparation I was doing, felt like I was arranging a vacation, only one that would take forever. I felt like I was going on a plane which always had me excited as I loved being on board and to experience the plane lifting itself off the ground, into air, higher and higher. I know death isn't like that but it felt like it. I was anxious to go. It made me feel happy, unexplainable happy. I believed things would be better for me, though hurtful for others but you have to think of yourself. And many has left before me, even famous people. Right now many were taking the plane as well. Imagine. Fear is normal, what is there out there awaiting me? I always thought about that whenever I was going abroad. There are only three options: something good, bad or nothingness.|||2||
1124415884|enigma|Conversations|It's really hard to have a real conversation these days. I should feel lucky that I've discovered groups where it is possible to speak about your disgust of living, constant hurt and the possession of a twisted mind. I am also refering to D. I don't like talking to him. It makes me sick to the stomach that whenever I am trying to talk to him, he later rambles on about something stupid instead. Like things that happened on his work and then he later ends it with what he'll do the rest of the day. I think he most certainly believes he is writing a whole bunch of stuff to me. Questions I ask him, as why he always complains about having enough of life, stay unanswered. I don't judge people but I can't resist or take superficialness. It affects each fine nerve in me, it turns them around, it makes me mad. How can I communicate with someone who isn't willingly to listen to me, to answer questions I ask? And then he wonders why I'm so avoidant? It's enough. I will not continue with this nonsense. I didn't like saying I care about him while he only made me feel like a bitch, but it's enough. This doesn't look like communication. It looks more like talking to walls and I do better talking to them as they didn't do one thing: they didn't hurt. If you know me well enough, I always do what doesn't make me happy anyway. Soon I will feel obligated and a responsibility to write him even I don't find it pleasant to do so. I'm a complete torture to myself. <br /><br />My brother's girlfriend is here. I am doomed. It appears she'll be here for two weeks. Misfortune gave birth to me, I tell you. Now that I have a lot to fix, I won't be able to. At least not when she's around. They'll hopefully be out of town tomorrow for me to write a little bit around here. I always have the need to write. It's the only thing I can do and turn to. People never pay attention to others, do they? I'm a doormat. Everyone tells me something to do, and I just admit. I can never say no. I have to take this 'abuse' (it was: having his girlfriends here, meant I had to isolate myself, why would I bother to mingle with them if they were temporary figures and faces?) with my mouth shut. I couldn't change it, I couldn't. While in my brother's case, if I had someone here, he'd hide. And when he brings people here, he demands me to spend my time with them. I'm so dominated by people. I have no voice. I scream and sway my hands and legs around, yet they carry me and enchain me to do whatever they want. If I want this to end, is it wrong? What's so good about being a masochist (that's the impression I got from people)? I could not accept this. <br /><br />I know if I die, my mother will be the one who suffers the most. Her paranoias will be at their strongest for she doesn't like being home alone at night and she will be if my brother continues working. She never wants to be alone. She wants me to be around her all the time and also a nice company (she wants me to talk to her). I of course let her words flow in from an ear and leave the other. No one can tell me to be a good company. If I'm not in the mood, you can not make me do something I don't want to. You can not demand me to act happy. It's always expected from me to submit to others as that's polite and the best thing to do. '<i>Because it's better to have friends than enemies</i>' I will be happy when this all won't be happening. I was afraid of dying but like Leena said, it happens to everyone, sooner or later. I also was afraid or disliked changes but this change would end things. I only wasn't sure I would cope well with it. Eventually I'll get used to it. I always get used to things, it's a matter of time.<br /><br />When I left the pc to go to bed, I scared myself deeply. I seriously thought this house was haunted. I always felt it was. Sometimes I'd hear little steps or doorslaps. I freaked out when I had closed the livingroom door to later come out of the kitchen having it open again. I screamed my lungs out as I pulled my mother's clothes having her also screaming along with me, as if to understand why I was screaming or assuming there was a reason to. Untill this morning I realised the door is messed up. It always opens up by itself when you close it. As much as I like darkness, I'd have to die in the morning. The night was very terrifying and it made me see things that weren't there. I have always been the one who people took advantage of by frightening me. My brothers, my younger brother definitely would. He'd hid himself behind my door in the darkness and when I walk in, he'd make these horrible sounds. That's enough to have me shaking and my legs paralyzed. I have a vivid imagination and I was scared the rest of the morning (it was 4 am), that my mother would suddenly turn into a monster wanting to slay me. Another fear I had was that reality would turn into nightmare. I had obsessive, violent thoughts where I'd see stuff I shouldn't see, untill I fell asleep.<br /><br />'<i>I can't believe this violence in my mind</i>'. I love hearing Tori singing The Waitress live. Firstly, she hardly swears in a song, except to the public sometimes when she's pissed. And it was very angry and the whole song through she did these amazing stuff on her piano. I could feel myself dissolve in the beautiful melodies she produces. I felt drugged and temporarily healed. The lyrics are short but hilarious and dark, that's how I define it. There appears to be a story behind it. I'd ask her about this song, if I was ever to meet her. I'd want to know what was the source that drove her to write so raw.<br /><br /><b>The Waitress</b><br /><img src="divmijn.jpg"><br />So I want to kill this waitress<br />She's worked here a year longer than I<br />If I did it fast you know that's an act of kindness<br /><br />But I believe in peace<br />I believe in peace bitch<br />I believe in peace<br />I believe in peace<br />But I believe in peace<br />I believe in peace bitch<br />I believe in peace<br /><br />I want to kill this waitress<br />I can't believe this violence in mind<br />And is her power all in her club sandwich<br /><br />But I believe in peace<br />I believe in peace bitch<br />I believe in peace<br />I believe in peace<br />But I believe in peace<br />I believe in peace bitch<br />I believe in peace<br /><br />I want to kill this killing wish<br /><b>They're too many stars and not enough sky</b>-<br /> (my favorite quote: sometimes life is that way, it doesn't give/allow space to all)<br /><br />Boys all think she's living kindness<br />Ask a fellow waitress<br />Ask a fellow waitress|||2||
1124358807|enigma|Untitled|Awhile ago I wasn't doing well, I'm doing better now. Crying my eyes out, is just a regular something I do daily. Just like having lunch or breakfast. I order a few stuff today and I got sad when someone reminded me of a mistake I made. I ordered something that would bring lots of damage to me, that is... if I ever get woken up by some idiot who thinks he's doing me a favor. I wasn't planning to do it at home. I'm going to stay in a little room somewhere, I have to make up something to be able to stay away for at least two days. If only M. was here. He wouldn't let me waste almost 85 euros with these things that I'm not even sure it would work. We were going to do something totally different. Though he already told me about it in details I wasn't sure I understood the whole preparation well. I always told him, I'd rather have him being around and doing it together. *sigh* Maybe I am lucky, and I will hear of him sooner or later.<br /><br />My brother's girlfriend will be here tomorrow. She will take 5 precious days of my already short life away from me which means I can't write any entries, or search more information (on hotels and other small things). I was going to cancel my order by ordering something else but I won't. The person -who I consider as a friend- convinced me it would not make any difference.<br /><br />I could do something to my brother today for stealing money out my purse. I know it was my mother who told him to. It angered me so much. I hate it when people look through my stuff. I can't have people evading my privacy what they did. When I'm angry, it's like a monster takes over me. You really don't want to see me angry... It's a strong emotion, it can be helpful (it makes me write) but also destructive as it makes me volatile and throwing stuff (that is as far as I can not control my anger, mostly I can).<br /><br />I got an auto response of the writer I wrote to. I copied it and mailed it to one of his assistant, I cut and paste her name as if I wrote the letter for her.<br />I want some opinions... some possible thoughts. <br /><br />Sometimes I swear I hear my mobile making certain noises and I get so happy as I think it's M. who finally got able to speak to me and will comfort me and tell me that something happened but finally everything's right. He is ruining my life. The fact I know him and just clinged myself to him, won't make me let him go. I can't pretend I don't know him because I do. I feel played and betrayed.<br /><br />I sunbathed awhile... I have cold blood.<br /><br />I dreamt I burnt a stove, trying to cook this brown mudd, slymery stuff.<br /><br />August isn't a good month. Many weird things are happening. Constantly I heard about planes crashes. First in Greece or nearby. Later near Italy. Later in Venezuela. Now a boat sunk. What will happen next?|||2||
1124317620|enigma|Suicide|Life is a horror. When you think the pain will end, it may be beginning. I have no idea what will happen to me after death. I spent today finding stories of people who have experiences with it and it only led me to find more christians sites who say this is wrong, that is wrong. Not one single story of someone who attempted suicide is positive. Not even the interpretations or views. Nothing is logical, even we all think logical here. I can't believe, I can impossibly believe that escaping this life, will only lead me into one worse.<br /><br />It's very easy to talk guilt and fear on me, I'm sensitive after all. I used to read books of a famous American writer who radiated something soft, he also had very interesting views. One thing that I like about the Bible and hate about this writer now is that the bible is a free book. This author who also writes about the words of a peaceful, nicer, caring Higher Being, refuses to have his words copied and published elsewhere (for example, for a friend to read or someone else). Especially large passages. You may only recite a quote, here and there. That's all. So it's clearly he wants to profit from people and have a full pocket. And if the 'One' (refering to God) can do miracles, this writer wouldn't feel the need to say these things. The Lord would find ways to keep his fund (or whatever he needs), the existence of this little charity alive. He would find his way around, needing money is a lack of security. He needs it to be sure that the project he's doing can stay alive. Now, where's the source you say helps you in any time? Hypocrite.<br /><br />Never trust people. You can't trust anyone. I don't know who I can trust. And what I wished was impossible. I didn't want to be alive, nor dead. But you can't achieve such. If I wanted that, then I shouldn't have been here in the first place to finally have to experience the inevitable anyway, which is death.<br /><br />If suicide is wrong, and enduring the pain of life is a must, then it seemed you could only isolate yourself and wait till it ended without ever being in touch with humanity (they only bring destruction). Would that be cool, or will you be punished for that too? Who does think or invent such stupid things? How can it be acceptable to tolerate an abuse? I don't understand. I can't comprehend. So I mailed this author to ask him for his thoughts or those who replies his messages, on suicide. He never replied.|||2||
1124243429|enigma|Exceptional beauty|K. is a friend of mine I met in 2004 when I was constructing a home on the web, a personal site, a sort of project to bring myself happiness. It consisted of many cute, tiny details and letters, in hope it would bring me comfort, peace, acceptance, serenity. Many faces popped up to lay a bit of joy in the doorway, so I could see it in the morning when I'd be awake. That's something I shan't forget. Neither that I met K. She's from abroad, close to where my past love lives. She's now residing in that country what will always recall her name and her face in my mind.<br /><br />Soon after the whole building colapsed and the stones were raining down on me, demanding bruises, I stepped back. I crawled back in my shell like a turtle would when a stranger was approaching. My spirit crushed and when I'd tried to act as a whole being, I'd find out I had a missing tooth. A part of my heart was missing or a side of my brain changed function. K. would not longer be only 2 seconds away from me, what the Internet offered us. The quick possibility of connection whilst we were worlds separated. Untill today, a difference came.<br /><br />K. had told me she had a best friend. She would always praise her in the nicest ways. In such ways you'd feel: could I be seen through such glasses. Only.., as life begins with a seed, breaks open to give space to a blossoming flower, she soon will wither. Life changes. From one day to another, nothing is the same. The way she described her, she was being painted as someone who came as close as the person I was. She was a talented girl, she is and communicative. Only now she was seeking the dark shades of the trees. Or the trunks which K. defined as hiding. She showed sides I showed being depressed.<br /><br />Since we both had journals, we had added each other in the past. She also introduced me to her. I can still remember her post on my Tori comparison entry. I thought Tori looked like several artists, just the vividness of her eyes and the sharp glance. I visited her diary back but her entry was old. Untill today. I know they are no longer friends, still I have her added. Out of respect for K. I was going to remove her untill I saw her newest posts. She sounds so incredibly soft and pure. She is very descriptive, poetic and intelligent. Someone who sees value and meaning in anything. It's understandible why K. was so fascinated with her by even quoting her in the mails she would send to me. She's nothing like anyone I have met, still people are special in their own way. So is she. I think anyone would feel theirself transform while sinking in the dimension she draws with her nicely, carefully picked words. Her voice is not screaming but soft and gentle. Her approach careful but caring. Her expression beautiful and deep. As anyone else she had weaknesses but you could hardly resist the attraction her being had on you. It shows she's a nice person. I'm not saying it randomly, I possessed a picture of her K. personally sent me. She may not be friends with K. anymore, she did allow me as her friend to read her locked journal and I did. What kept me from writing to her was that I was shivering at the thought I could bring cracks in her life, as much as she expressed how much she loves learning about new people. We all have effect and influence on each other, how short or long your entrance and departure in and out of each other's life takes. Though we have never really spoken to each other, I saw we had similiar interests. She is just a few days older than me and also bi. I can't bring myself up to talk to her as her beauty was already shining through and adored by countless of people. I'd be just a name and an unknown face. She was popular. <br /><br />The few moments I spent on her livejournal, I felt a strange sensation. I felt pretty, how strange it may sound. I felt attraction as I am easily touched. I'm easily to be seduced or fallen, trapped in your web. And I only went there with the purpose to find out what she may be thinking of K. She was admirable and I once again was admiring something I could never come close to. However, she has softened and inspired me. She really has.<br /><br /><b>Off-topic</b>: <i>I am a walking contradiction that spreads chaos in every word I speak</i><br /><br />Wow, this guy surely knows me.|||2||
1124238763|enigma|Lessons Learnt from life|These are the lessons I have learnt from my (hopefully) short period in this locked box. God thought he had a circus untill animals started escaping out of the cage. Anyway.<br /><br /><ol><br /><li><b>Lesson One</b></li><br />Breathing is something you do everyday. Twenty-four seven precisely. <br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Two</b></li><br />You have to share air, with criminals, bastards, fuckers, rapers, bitches. Everyone you hate and despise. You breathe in the air they've exhaled. I bet I have you in me right now. <br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Three</b></li><br />People are always interfering, no matter what. They always know exactly how your life should look like, even the little dots. Things they actually should pay attention to, they don't really pay attention to (like theirself). Yes, we keep ourself busy with what we shouldn't be busy with.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Four</b></li><br />Everyone can be a secretive liar. Everyone is two-faced. They have to. If they are straight to the point, you'll have your tongue cut out. We lie everyday. Not just me. We lie everyday to survive. We <i>have</i> to lie everyday so we can survive.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Five</b></li><br />Diversity is a curse. Dare to be different and you will be suffocated in your sleep. They will strangle you. We will be happy when we all have the same red hair and dirty orange trousers. No, we all should be clones for there can be happiness.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Six</b></li><br />Women are idiots. At least, men want them to be. Women must spread theirself open and close as a jar and as carpet for the man to be happy. Pray for your baby to be a boy, though he may turn out to be a complete bastard and make you bend down to lick his feet clean. <br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Seven</b></li><br />We learn by copying each other. I definitely have. I only did something when others did it. If I do something others don't do, I will be laughed at. I will be weird. That's lesson eight already. We are only relieved, when we do something others do. That means we are 'safe'. That means no problems. <br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Eight</b></li><br />You can't be weird, or else you will be satanic or demonic. Check previous lessons.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Nine</b></li><br />This is a contradictive sphere, where everyone lives the life they don't want to live. Everything that shouldn't happen, happens. And what should happen, doesn't. Think of evil people being admired or confided in and those who try to bring justice and equality (Martin Luther King), are being killed. <br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Ten</b></li><br />Praise the demon, kill the baby, that's the motto of an earthling.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Eleven</b></li><br />Do everything but don't kill yourself. If you hate yourself and humans so much, yet you are forced to spend life with them untill your clock stops ticking by itself. Otherwise you can not die. I suggest you: lie. <br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Twelve</b></li><br />A lie can only save you, the truth will have you killed. Literally.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Thirteen</b></li><br />A random act of kindness is a backstab.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Fourteen</b></li><br />Money rules the world. Without it you can get fucked. No one loves you. Money means priority.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Fifteen</b></li><br />Without a good look, you will not be accepted in a community. Beauty is a must so your neighbour can have sweet dreams with you in his pants, I mean bed. At night.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Sixteen</b></li><br />Looking is wrong.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Seventeen</b></li><br />God sleeps when he's on the phone with you.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Eighteen</b></li><br />Words are knives. You can carve something nice in the tree (a heart), but you can pierce through a warm pounding heart of a human with it too.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Nineteen</b></li><br />Love is situated in your undies.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Twenty</b></li><br />Tomorrow never dies unless you do something about it.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Twenty-one</b></li><br />Conformity is slavery.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Twenty-two</b></li><br /><i>You're only popular with anorexia</i><br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Twenty-three</b></li><br />Everyday isn't a new day, it's the same.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Twenty-four</b></li><br />Bad things are so good and easily to find.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Twenty-five</b></li><br />Seems the only time you're pure, is when you get born. Your senses are acting natural. Grow up and you will get programmed to be a machine for the government's pleasure.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Twenty-six</b></li><br />Whatever happens to you, it's not anyone's problem. Only when you serve their purpose.<br /><br /><li><b>Lesson Twenty-seven</b></li><br />Rejection <i>is</i> the greatest afrodisiacum.<br /></ol><br /><br />I will add more when I feel like it.<br /><b>Updated on 8th October 2005</b>|||2||
1124225012|enigma|Untitled|Imagine if you couldn't die at all, luckily you can. It would've been a disaster if people couldn't really kill theirself, I'm sure. If they had to wait till their natural death, it would be a curse and we'd breathe new lives in all the plagues. But thankfully, you can die.<br /><br />Al. does come across my mind. I usually sit waiting on a bench as you can't enter the shops with many bags and as people passed me by, I remembered a day she was out herself and saw someone who looked alike me. *smiles* She of course yelled my name at the girl. I'd feel very... weird and 'stalked' a little, if it happened to me but the girl was lovely and replied nicely that she wasn't me. Also that the real one (me), must be special.<br /><br />These days I may not be online a lot, I'm going to read all the books I borrowed. I will try to finish them. If I come then it will be at night, my brother is working at that moment.|||2||
1124214736|enigma|Dreams|Someone jumped from a building in my dream. I could hear the sound of breaking bones resound in my ears as I clinged myself to someone, I don't know who it is. I don't remember every detail as I think frequently that my dream is reality and when I wake up realising it's not, it's like everything disappears. All the memories. This guy -I think- is someone who died last year. I'm not sure it's really him but it was someone. I think I must start taking myself serious. I should buy all 'equipment' before asking people stupid questions. I must succeed into fooling my mother I will stay with someone for week so I can do it all at peace. The only fear I have is that it could go wrong... but no questions now. I will have to first gather all the items before saying I will prepare a dish. A dish can't be prepared without any ingredients.<br /><br />I believe he's possibly dead. Only it doesn't make sense that his mobile is left somewhere, and no one is checking it. He stayed in an apparment friends helped him find. Before with a friend who was on vacation. Where could his mobile possibly be? Did he loose it? I won't believe other things. I will assume he's dead now though it's harsh while he was probably walking fine at the other side of the world. I blame myself that this is happening. I decided to be honest about my feelings, what made him change his mind. He was coming but thought he should go abroad, further from me, for a work and also to feel better (where he stayed wasn't a good environment). With the idea that I would come and we would live together. He told me I could come anytime even he planned to visit me in a few weeks (from now). What scares me is that he was afraid when he was moving, like he knew something was going to happen. I'd rather had him here but as it's a country he loves, he has the right to go there and be happy, we'd see each other anyway, that's how I thought. <br /><br />If he's dead why doesn't anyone check his stuff in his appartment? If I ever get in touch with him again, I swear I won't let him go anywhere else than coming to me. Even... the distance and ignorance that seems to be getting bigger was telling me, he was too good for me. I don't deserve anyone, so it happened for a good reason.<br /><br /><B>EDIT</b>: I'm going to shop now. I'm hungry. I will try not to eat so much like yesterday.|||2||
1124184511|enigma|Incomplete|<b>Ive tried to go on like I never knew you</b><br />Im awake but my world is half asleep<br />I pray for this heart to be unbroken<br />But without you all Im going to be is incomplete<br /><br /><b>Comments</b>: The only part of the song that appeals to M. Especially the bold marked ones. It's definitely something I tried to do. Hopefully time will make memories fade or I will end all memories. Either way, I wish myself goodluck.|||2||
1124183567|enigma|Chadarara poems|<i>Chadarara</i> isn't a word, I just made it up to express the low, F-leveled poetry I write. I only kept pride in a few dutch poems I have written. In poetry I would believe that sometimes I wasn't the one always writing. There were moments a poem was so perfect (a few of them) and flawless, I'd think someone whispered the words to my fingers, all the others are chaos. <i>Je suis a</i> (glad I still remember a bit French). Okay, first poem written from last week.<br /><br /><b>Untitled</b> (called it Music, I have one named music already)<br /><br /><img src="divmijn.jpg"><br /><br />I don't cut because I listen to music<br />I listen to music because I cut<br />because there's something wrong<br />I hear that in each song<br />It wonders with me<br />It shows me possibilities<br />It narrates histories<br />It offers theories<br />But you always have to walk alone<br />No one can tell you what to do<br />At the end there's just me<br />Definitely not you<br /><br /><b>Comments</b>: I am always mad, I use that energy to write, as long as that madness isn't sadness. My brother is telling me to this date that hardcore music (I listen to) drove me to cut, but it's otherwise. 'Hardcore' music found me. I was crappy and it consoled me. Therefor I listen to music because I cut. Because of shitty feelings, I sought dark things to soothe me. The first 'dark' group I found was Linkin Park (In The End). Later Red Hot Chili Peppers, I love this band a lot. I'm a little Johnny Groupie. Or John's Groupie, if he'd ever have one. Nah, my obsession with a few celebrities is that they remind me of my sweet love that could be wandering lost around in these cold spheres.|||2||
1124163450|enigma|Untitled|Even when I'm not online but walking my way outside doing shoppings, I think and formulate sentences I can possible write here in these entries. Nothing is the same when I come online.  I am forced to talk into riddles or to hide what I am really feeling. Life is a masquerade. It's a masked ball. I wonder who that guy is with that white mask on? <br /><br />In my entries I have so many spelling mistakes, you see I'm not English in no way. The only language I could speak, or better <i>write</i> fluently was Dutch. English was a beautiful language to speak, Dutch was nice to express yourself on paper. Spanish is in general only for romances. M. told me he could speak seven languages. I was very impressed. He already impressed me by speaking Dutch with me on the phone. That was when I told him quickly before he was going to hang up to have a good trip (in Dutch). He understood me like in a few seconds and answered me back, I told him he was so cute while he laughed his warm bright laughter that warmed up all the fluids inside. I wept over him as I was afraid something happened to him. He was so sweet and fragile to me. He was like a little puppy, with these gorgeous big eyes you want to protect. Al. was intimidating and hard. She always needed to show me that only she could tell me what to do, not the other way round. There was no tension or a slight bit of anger between me and M. I could be upset but he'd melt it like <i>sneeuw voor de zon</i> (snow infront the sun, what's that expression in English?). I love him deeply... Stupidity is the cape I wear daily. If I turn out to be stupid, at least I know it would happen. In any way, M. had my affection and he was the first who has made me unhappy and tearful for weeks. If I'm sad, that shows I care?<br /><br />As the dirty liar I am, I have to say I have not kept my promise of being SI-free. When M. comes across my mind, I feel like someone is tormenting me. I try my utmost best to understand why there was no news of him, why he disappeared the way he did. I thought the worst things and wished I let my curiosity take over. Now I could've had his address and a phone number of one of his friends but I don't. All I have are dreams. I don't dream when I skip the ritual I started doing last week Sunday (two weeks ago, I mean). <br /><br />(By the way, forgive me my spelling mistakes, I totally feel aweful. If anyone reads these entries somedays, I hope you can understand the big lines)<br /><br />D. emailed me an 'I-feel-good-but-I'd-rather-be-dead'-mail. I didn't write about it but last week I had a little argument with him. Did I tell? I told him that writing him was painful and it's the truth. I don't understand why people are so superrficial. I don't like hearing 'life is bad, life is bad' without any reasons. It's like my mother's paranoia where she is constantly rapping about the neighbour (who she thinks is a man), spying on her, trying to control her. It's a broken record that works on my nerves, it gives me headache and its upsets. My mum was so deep in her paranoias that she would curse me by saying: '<i>One day you'll see</i>' and then she'd add God's name along to give her strength, to make her feel that we were the crazy ones. *laughs hysterically*<br /><br />My mother's 'lunatics' consisted that each morning she'd wake up turning the tv disturbingly loud to somehow fight this <i>man</i> (it could be a dog). The rest of the day she carried on talking about him and had the tv volume low when she felt, this man was starting to become angry. I hate my dad, as he agreed with her that 'we' have issues with this unknown mystery man. Still I don't give a flying fuck whatever happens outside. If someone is annoyed by the music I play (even I never blast music like my brother does, the whole house would vibrate), he should personally come and <i>tell me</i> or he can simply walk straight and nicely to hell.<br /><br />I wrote a few poems I think, I don't remember what they are about. I remember. One is named Control. That's life. I want to break out of the frames from this controlling system. I was daily hoping something bad would happen so people would finally open their damn blinded eyes. This world is screwed.<br /><br />I realised that if I wanted to go into a building, I wouldn't be able to pretend I became an Angel or were placed a level higher on God's scales for having wings. The field I want to use is at the balcony side. I have to be inside a house on a balcony to drop a five-sticked apple. Anyone would see it fall in all the other situations. There's good news I think, though I doubt everything. Someone will sell me some stuff. She was very sweet into offering them for free but I told her I'd pay her. I hope soon I get these gorgeous pearls I can admire. I am selling my collection of valuable things to get some money. A voice in my head says to never reject my brother when he offers me money to do him a favor. He usually pays me 5-10 euros to go shopping for him. When I go to town to accompany him, a bit more. My relatives always think that I spend everything but thats false. I had 175 or so saved already but I mailed it out to Al. when we were together and even I doubted a little, I had to as I wanted to show her I cared about her. I live a bit strict. I don't buy anything else than food and pens/papers to write. I was actually going to pay some stuff when M. comes but I am not sure when he will come, whether he'll come. I have to do this alone. I have to make plans, I won't rely on him. I don't want to be in shit at the end. Inside I was waiting anyway. I hoped he would come back. I hoped that it was a new consuming job that held him two weeks straight from smsing me. <br /><br /><i>I'm a black line on the wall, soon the painter will come and paint it away.</i>|||2||
1124117193|enigma|Insomnia|I don't suffer of insomnia. If I find myself awake on an evening is because I'm worried, that's the main motive to have me awake. Now the sun is shining all through the curtains remembering me of the sleep I haven't had today. I will go to bed soon as I'm incredibly exhausted. I stayed up because of my mother, I started feeling filthy and decided to come online. As I didn't know what interesting to do, I worked on a new layout, thinking it would 'soothe' me. Bright colors soon start annoying me, I am more inspired by dark things, that's why this layout.<br /><br />I didn't carry on with my starvation as you could've imagined, I ate junkfood at the end of the night. Now I am having a quick breakfast consisting of three buttered slices of bread with cheese. M. told me he loves cheese, what made us connect more, as we'd laugh with all the things we had in common. In bed my mother asked me if I felt sad and cried over M. I didn't want to tell her so I shrugged and told her I don't know. It's not an answer but I always answer anyone like that if I feel I don't want to be honest, just to have them drop the theme. She advised me to pray deeply so I'd be heard better. I want someone to talk to, that's why I 'pray'. Sometimes with respect, sometimes I address h(H)im as a friend or I talk to him like garbage too, it doesn't matter. As long as I can talk, that's all that matters. I've been talking into myself for a long while now. I put so much 'emotion' in it, that it often feels real to me. I do admire my mother for being so loyal and driven when it comes to spending the morning or the late evening praying for whoever needs her help. Either it be coincidence or not, they are being answered but when that happens, no one reminds someone helped them, they just forget about her, till they need another favor again. From her entire family, I consider my mum -despite her being not too nice all the time- the only one who thought about everyone and always wanted to help, sometimes too much. That we don't get along, probably has a good reason. For example I think completely different than she does. I don't believe in being mean back to loved ones if they hurt you. If M. woke up one day screaming at me, I'd frown and try to calm him down or try to find out what upset him. I wouldn't scream back at him. This place was an exception, it angered and irritated me, especially the way my mother couldn't refrain from treating me. Like a (dumb) child.<br /><br />I downloaded 'Incomplete' by Backstreet Boys as I couldn't find any other better songs (I wanted good ballads, of the 80's for example but I couldn't remember any). I don't want to listen to songs people converted me to listen to. I once had a fight with T. once where she threw in my face, that <i>she</i> was the one who brought me in touch with Tori. It's a little something that has me mad till this day and doesn't allow me to enjoy Tori at its fullest. Therefor I turn to Madonna, she may not be a wonderful artist to many, she did have some good songs I could relate to.<br /><br />Like I was saying, I have incomplete in my mp3-player... when I heard it, I switched over to another song. 'What a beggar!', I thought. But when I allowed myself to listen to it better, I am seeing that the lyrics are so appealing to M. and I. I'm getting a bit attached to it and it... yes.|||2||
1124064152|enigma|First fast day: 7 hours more to go before first succes|My body is shaking a little. The whole day I only drank water and ate two carrots, that is to keep my stomach from feeling nausea. I shouldn't sleep when I fast as I dream deep and it consumes all my energy. I'm awake feeling incredibly dizzy and my muscles are sore. Why am I such a baby? There are some people here who are protesting from being put out of the country, they have been fasting for more than 40 days. This guy was on the news and could hardly walk or talk. He hasn't eaten anything, I bet nor drunk water. I wished I could be that strong. I am planning to fast 10 days or a week. It may be succesful as I don't have anywhere to go this week. On the 22nd or 25th, I will get something nice to eat. Maybe muffins as these are my favorite, though all I've been thinking was to eat as I'm sad. I was thinking of fries, pizza, junkfood, chocolate, muffins, cakes, chips. You have no idea how much effort I feel into writing this all down but I have to control myself. If I succeed there will be a reason for me to be happy. I want to weigh 55kg or a bit lower. Next week I'll weigh myself again, at the end of the starvation day. On the last day.<br /><br />Tomorrow would've been two weeks that I'm in soltitude. I had it all written, spoken in my head but I can't write right now. It could be the anxiety pills are making me dizzy as well. I took two or so. Not sure. I will write at the end of the race. I have a hard time thinking... I am sure I will start hallucinating. I'm so tired but with a lot to write. Till another time.<br /><br /><B>EDIT</B>: I am very happy. I used the scales and I weigh 58.4kg. I can either choose to go for 3.4 more or 5.4kg. I will see how much I will weigh at the end of my starvation period, which will end next week or two weeks. I have to see how long I can go. I also think of eating 400cal a day. It's better than nothing or else I will get very dizzy which I am already. I know seeing as I sleep, I will start hallucinating soon. Aside of what I wrote that I ate, I also had a hand full of dry cornflakes because I got hungry.|||2||
1123892147|enigma|Untitled|At this point in my 'existence' (not like I think 'I am' and 'am alive'), I am neglecting everyone and everything. There are only two things I make myself do everyday which is coming online and try to write a journal. When I am, soon it's the evening and I wouldn't have sat and grieved about myself, though I do it sometimes when someone reminds me of what I am. Not who I am, again <b>I don't know that person</b>. The more people turn against me (my mum is, my brother is, now D. is also angering with me), I feel I have everything to kick myself from this blue marble. I had another argue with my mother as I have a horrible, and I mean <i>horrible</i> memory. Don't tell me things when I am occupied with something else. I may hear your voice but my brains doesn't convert more than one thing at a time. Keep giving me all your negative energy and I will swallow it all down, till the point it just makes me run over and I can explode in fire untill my ashes are the only reminders of someone called <i>enigma</i>, as that's what I am, perfectly. My mum should've called me enigma, it would've fit me so much better.<br /><br />Looking at the amount of names I have been called, no one sees me the same. I remember a teacher at my school would call me Truus, it annoyed me to death. '<i>Hi Truus</i>', he'd say when I was walking passed him (he was working as a cleaner), with this typical accent. In my head I always thought he didn't like me that's why he would punish me that way, with this ugly name. Poor those who are called Truus.<br /><br />And poor am I for being such.., such an unkind, unfriendly person. I'm probably just doing anything to hang on, to prevent myself from falling as I know that sliding is dangerous, you can break a bone, get yourself wounded, or fall in an abyss, or in a hole with a group of... lions or other flesh eating animals. Talking about animals, that's also what my mother calls me. Today she called me an animal and it doesn't sound great, does it? I don't mind.. (<i>I don't, I don't</i>), I don't. <br /><br />My life is bad and it's not the big things that makes it this way. I am not being beaten up to death, I don't get abused by some pedophile who's supposed to be my dad, I don't get bullied by some brats at school (well, I'm not longer at school), I am not in environments like in Somalia, or other poor African countries where there's no food. If I ever experienced anything, I wouldn't know. I know it is bad by looking at the simple little things that are actually important things. In a different period and time, with a better family, I know I wouldn't be the way I am. I would be a succesful adult but with a very cold heart probably, not so sensitive, or very sensible and responsible, also extremely strict. But I've bent all the rules to my liking, to have it all my way. And still that way didn't bring me anything.<br /><br /><b>EDIT:</b> I dreamt with Tori. I never think of artists or singers but I guess in dreamworlds you are everywhere and Tori's soul visits her fans. I was sad over something and I saw her. I was happy, she looked motherly. I asked her if she could hug me and she did. She drew/wrote something quickly, somehow it would help, she told me. I don't remember the whole thing. Except that it was the nicest dream I've had with her.|||2||
1123890482|enigma|It's..|Hypocrite is the word I've been looking for.|||2||
1123890160|enigma|When....? (part two)|Can someone tell me when I really do mean something? Am I just angry impersonally? Or angry with myself? Do I mean it when I say I hate something? I don't know. I work completely messed up, like something undirectable. I just go in every direction, I have no clue what I'm doing. I feel so much regret. I feel aweful. I feel like shit. When I feel sorry I get this very sweaty sensation, I feel paralyzed. <br /><br />I am going to clean my blog, deleting stuff, as that's what cowards do. I'm a chicken over anything and more than anything, I don't like fighting even I have that too often. I prefer to keep everyone as a friend at the same time I hate them, but do I mean that? It doesn't work all the time. No, it doesn't work all the time. I follow a road but I always make exceptions, I always eat fruit with salads, while I told you I'd never eat any vegetables or fruit. What I say today, will never be the same tomorrow. That's terrible, how will I ever define myself this way?|||2||
1123658991|enigma|Mutiple life|I lead a mutiple of life online like a secret agent as a few of those lives are fake (what I present to you, isn't what I really am feeling inside) and only one what I actually am. That part is something I don't even know, I don't know what I am. I've said that so often before which is my truth. I wasn't experiencing life to my accord.<br /><br />After showering (I've just done so), I was walking to the kitchen to throw some stuff away. I was feeling like I were walking on stick. It's as if I am not really inside of my body but floating somewhere aside of myself. I don't feel like I am directing a body but holding its hand like a sort of... balloon in one hand. I was getting slow, energy kept slipping away. I am falling and falling more... the process isn't stopping or taking a pause. It's going it's way.<br /><br />Perhaps I don't like D. because he told me to stop self-injuring. Words that gushed vinegar in my eyes or gasoline. It made me upset that he was talking like someone else. I'd never tell anyone to stop cutting theirself. And it's not like I cut or that I feel like.. It's so hard to put my emotions into phrases but it's just that he didn't say anything different, what he said was no news. Nor do I like being told what to do, it will only provoke opposite. It is nice of him to show that he cares but for me that isn't caring. It's selfish and inconsiderate and stupid. I have communicated a lot with self-injurers (I probably would've done well as a psychologist, as I like listening and getting to someone's core), when they are being scared... I just tell them that they should know what they're doing. So, don't do things you don't have much knowledge about or don't know the consequences of. Though I learn best that way as I'm headstrong. Speaking to other people has always made me feel like my life isn't so important, so it was put aside. It's like reading a book, you get absorbed by the story that you forget your arm is becoming numb. That's how I am online. I try everything to not have to deal with my own life.<br /><br />I've come to the point that self-injury isn't what it used to be. D. would've known if life was different and if I was. I am not longer cutting as I used to. I may do it again when I'm extremely mad and it's the question whether I have anything in my reach or else I will 'get over it'. Something inside of me is like dying. It's nothing like it was before. Putting a blade in my flesh takes so much effort and it hurts. I know that everything I do once will come to an ending someday. My life is best described into periods. After almost three years, I've had enough of it. All I'm wondering about is.. what will have my attention next? I can guess... but I don't want to know it. The unknown way is sometimes scary.<br /><br />I had a horrible dream last night. My dreams are so vivid that I wake up scared that the things I've made up in my head will somehow appear infront of me in the waking world. It would be so terrible I'd find myself sleeping in my mother's bedroom out of fear. The same today. The whole sphere in my dream was dark yellow/orange mixed with gray and dirty green. Not the color, it's the feeling these colors call. I felt trapped and if I had to die, I would also be stuck in a blue world, as I was in my dreamworld. I was happy when I woke up, the fresh clear white light I saw this world surrounding me in, was more hopeful than my dreams looked like. It's like... I don't dare going to bed, as it's not a nice feeling all my dreams bring.|||2||
1123564650|enigma|When...?|Like I expected, I will have to go to the hospital to get this done. This will be exactly, the... fifth time I go there for the same surgery. It's like you have a big field... only... let's say, there are three seeds in that sand, the earth. One day one flower grows out of that ground but after some time, it starts messing up that earth. It becomes weed. You rip it out... but you don't know there are two more seeds. That's my case. Despite being a bit upset with my doctor for being cocky, thinking he could put this to an ending (all my previous doctor refered me to the hospital right away), I forgive him because when I asked him for a few pills he didn't hesistate one minute to prescribe me some. These are pills for anxiety. I am very... 'loca', as they would sometimes call people who 'lose it'. I went to get them quickly and a woman who helped me was really sweet. I love how I am more relaxed with them than with men. I am a woman, so I understand a woman because I am a woman. But I'm not a man, I have no idea what it is like, so I don't understand why they differ so much from a woman despite growing up with two brothers. I always assume they are 'senseless', indifferent.. these are qualities that were shown visibly to me in my younger years untill now. The only difference was my insanity and ignorance for being hypnotized when I was in love with a boy. Somehow they were extremely beautiful, more beautiful than anything. They had wings, were divine. That was for a certain time. As quickly as I fall in love, I could fall <i>out</i> of love, especially if I wasn't being answered. I keep myself contend thinking during the times I was under influence of this drug called 'love', it was and felt nice even it most likely was a breakable illusion. Everything is an illusion in my world, too too often.<br /><br />My mum and I are so much in a fight. It's not a fight... I am the only one who gives her harsh replies. There are so many times I think... '<I>why can't she do this/that on her own?</i> or <i> isn't that obvious? Why do I need to help you with something stupid like that?</i>. I am upset with life that it gave me an old mother. A mother who would've been my grandmother probably in this time and space since kids give birth so young. I can't get along with the changes my mother went through mentally and physically. It made me a demon that I always wished bad things inside... but mainly I hoped to pay for everything I've done wrong by dying young. I may react my anger on her as I know she allows me to. She doesn't bitch back to me unless she does. When she does, then I feel bloodier but not bloodier than when I make her cry, like my brother did last week or so. When she cries, it's as if something aweful happened. The sound pierces through your flesh and heart. You just feel regret and wished you didn't have a heart. If I were ever badmouthed with my dad (what I wouldn't even dare, I'm not so close to him either), I could expect to have his fist for lunch. I hate remembering the past, it's very painful. My father was too. So, I'm a terrible daughter. The only moments that I felt beautiful, pure and something was after I showered with hot water, but more than anything... being with M. <br /><br />I can't wait to put a dot behind the sentence. No more comma's. No one will give me more comma's either. Except M. I want to be wherever he is... He is the only one who has the right to tell me 'stop' or 'don't'.<br /><br />I will start taking the pills tonight, I hope to get this dizzy sensation. I want to be absent... I don't want to 'feel' no longer or at least find peace in my head a bit.|||2||
1123519233|enigma|No wonder why I'm so stupid|The paper the doctor's wife has given me last week, got lost. I could swear I put it on my night table but I just can't find it. Now I have no idea when the appointment is, around a quarter to eleven or twelve. I think I will just leave earlier. I have credits to ring them up but I don't want to spend it. It would be a total waste, I know there will be more important occassions and I am not sure I can buy credits this month. I'm a bit sensible and greedy also. Especially when it comes to phoning people I'm not connected to or to just know a simple thing as the time.<br /><br />Yesterday I killed a few hours playing with a Painting programm. Not constantly though. I was: <i>'Okay, let's go do something... No, I want to write. I'm going to bed now. But I am bored. I want to paint.. I want to work. '</i> I couldn't really make up my mind. I'm an extremely annoy to myself. After walking up and down, from the pc to the bedroom, I went to watch some tv. I can't say what was on other than America's Next Top Model. It was an old transmission, where they cover all the previous parts of the girls who were in and got sent home. I really am not watching tv so much, except movies (if there are any good ones). I totally hate, <i>hate</i> what they transmit. The cartoon channel sucks. They adjusted it for kids during Summer, so for example Rocko's Modern life is in Dutch and Ren & Stimpy isn't on at all. I can imagine it's probably because it's morbid and not really for little children. Stupid, useless programms. I watched ANTM as I'm deadly curious about the winner and I had nothing else to do.<br /><br />This is also important, maybe I do well in writing it down somewhere. <br />Ik heb veel nagedacht over hem en besloot voor ik mijn tijd aan hem zou besteden, om positieve gedachtes uit te zenden, te gaan douchen. Ik wou mezelf eerst reinigen van alle negatieve energieen en stoffen die ik over me had die dag. Ik brandde in de tussentijd wierook, van roos(2)=liefde en muskus(1)= geluk. Later nadat ik klaar was in de badkamer stak ik er weer twee aan van beide soorten, om mij te begeleiden bij mijn hulpkreet. De aantal heb ik met een speciale reden gekozen. Ik sprak uit... *zucht* en hoopte voor een antwoord. Het doet me wel wat dat ik toch een antwoord heb gekregen, alhoewel het mijn eigen verstand kan zijn die me tot zo'n droom heeft geleid. Ik droomde met hem, het was een goeie, leuke droom. Hij smste me en vertelde dat hij veel bezig is geweest met zijn gezondheid en niet veel tijd had (denk ik?). Toen zag ik zijn aanwezigheid voor mij. Hij zei ook om hem ergens te vinden, omdat hij vaak daar was in een Yahoo group (all profiles :s). Hoe dan ook, hij was zo teer en probeerde mij aan te raken en te kussen, ik vond het zo'n mooi gedachte. Ik was een beetje bang, wanneer leer ik dat dromen niet is zoals de werkelijkheid?? Ik kan een gat in de lucht springen. Voor mijn gevoel, is hij veilig en ik dank *u* ook om naar mij te hebben geluisterd, ook al was het misschien mijzelf die de stap heeft gedaan om over hem te dromen. U begrijpt mij wel. =)<br /><br />I have the answer I believe and now I can breathe a little better, I hope.<br /><br />D. and I aren't doing so well with each other. I at least sent him a rather angry email... but then, the mail he sent to me wasn't too friendly either. It was an email you'd write to people who are you're not close to. Though I never tell anyone to quit whatever they are doing. I don't wish to write to him anymore, it's too painful. He won't sms me either, it shows he was possibly offended. In whatever way, I suck at maintaining friendships, especially when I get deep with someone. I shouldn't allow myself to do this as it will start to burden me (why?). Not other people's problems, just that I can't have too many friends as it cost a lot of energy and time. Unfortunately, I tend to make friends a lot online. I used to have many penpals too. I would probably start writing in the afternoon or morning and finish till after midnight with a sore head. I wrote too many people at once, I just had too many penpals than I could name :s It kept me occupied and I was always trying to entertain them with stories of my cultures or definition of certain words in my tongue. It was fun, untill it wasn't and I stopped.<br /><br />B. didn't tell me that this Turkey girl had sent me a letter yesterday (or Saturday). He went buying some junkfood and put the letter on the kitchen table where it got filthy with sauce. Thank God that I am curious, or else I would never find out things, like that I received a letter from my penpalling era. I think the last time I wrote her was months ago. She writes me once in a few long months. I don't mind at all. I just don't.<br /><br />Currently I enjoy talking to this woman (who I thought was a guy). She sees me as someone who could've been her daughter as she has a son of my age. She lives where I live.. is kind of like me, we have too much in common unfortunately. She's realistic and honest too. Anyway, whatever that can keep me busy is good.|||2||
1123432110|enigma|Not sure|Not sure what will happen this week, probably nothing. I shouldn't blame anything, probably just not count on anyone. I am spilling so much fluids daily now... to my disappointment. It's like I'm hoping anything will be as before but maybe they won't. I also just woke up... I went to bed around 4, I was watching RB and saw this name... for awhile I had to smile. I like that name even bad things started going around in my head again. At the moment it's half past nine. Cold as hell, doesn't matter if they say hell has flames. That's a fantasy. It's cold. If there's a hell, it should be cold, not hot.<br /><br />I find it tempting to use.. my tarotcards... or those playing cards. The playing cards are more helpful as I know their meaning from books but tarotcards can be interpreted differently in all situation. They never mean the same... I won't either... I don't think I'd be satisfied or find the answer bearable.|||2||
1123383378|enigma|:'(|I am really sad.. Im going to my bedroom now..|||2||
1123355389|enigma|Een koude ochtend|Slapen lukt me niet deze dagen zonder dat ik telkens een glimp werp op het display schermpje van een mobiel die ooit kado was gedaan aan mijn moeder op Moederdag. De reden dat ik het van haar afgenomen heb, is omdat de beltegoedkaarten goedkoper zijn dan die van KPN. Alleen betaalde ik soms teveel aan berichtjes als ik niet na 3 uur smste en dat deed ik niet altijd. Meestal was mijn liefste na middernacht bereikbaar en op zulke tijden wilde ik niet teveel van hem missen. Wat toch vaak gebeurde, vooral als ik na middernacht mijn ogen moeilijk open kon houden.<br /><br />Nog steeds blijft zijn verblijf en welzijn onbekend. Terwijl ik met een paar woordenboeken aan het schouwen was om een paar betekenissen van woorden na te gaan die ik mogelijk verkeerd heb gebruikt in het Engels, zag ik mijn stapel tarotkaarten. Ik kwam eventjes in verleiding te staan om het verleden te weten, alleen durfde ik het niet. Wat als ik wat met het verleden deed waardoor het antwoord negatief aan me presenteerde? Wat als ik de waarheid niet aankon? Ik blijf liever wachten totdat hij naar me toekomt. Hij zal naar me toekomen. Dat zal hij toch? Daar was ik het toch niet zo zeker van. Wel deed het me veel verdriet om in stilte te leven, zonder begrip of kennis van wat er allemaal met hem aan de hand is. Ik praat teveel over hem, echter was hij mijn energie, mijn kracht. Hij betekent veel voor me en hij weet het beter dan wie dan ook. <i>Hij</i> is de motief dat ik hier nog zit. <br /><br />Het huis slaapt en het is 12 uur 's middags. Saaiheid en verveling zijn de kenmerken van bijna alle dagen, vooral zaterdag en zondag. Ik luister maar naar wat nummers waar ik regelmatig naar luister om me wat op te peppen. Het was een illusie dat alles in orde was, ik geloofde het graag. En een beetje hoop is niet altijd mis. Hoewel... je had goede hoop, of slechte hoop. Bij de ene werd je op handen gedragen, werden jouw schrammen zachtjes gelikt, bij de andere verdronk je. Slechte hoop = valse hoop = een pijnbank.<br /><br />Het doet me niets dat ik mezelf al een tijdje niet echt verzorg, ik voel me smerig en zo hoor ik me ook te voelen, in zulke situaties. Ik zal mezelf later wel schoonspoelen met warm water, ik voelde me enorm koud. Het weer was zo veranderlijk en gecompliceerd in mijn mening. Het kon op de ene moment bloedwarm zijn en later had ik de rillingen oftewel kippevel van de temperatuurdaling. Ik ben hopeloos... Er valt niet zoveel uit te leggen. Ik hoopte op goed nieuws, spoedig. Zeer spoedig.|||2||
1123355355|enigma|... en zo gaat het verder|<font size="1"><i>Originally posted on Fri, 05 August 2005 09:43:02</i></font><br /><br /><font size="1"><i>Wat is er met mij aan de hand,<br />hoe kwam dit gevoel tot stand?</i></font><br /><br />Een paar regels die in mijn hoofd verschenen toen ik bezig was aan het dagdromen op de bank. Ik kwam hier om te schrijven, echter ben ik de kluts kwijt van wat ik wil zeggen. Ik droom met hem de hele dag door. Ik probeer me voor te stellen in wat voor situatie hij terecht is gekomen en wie er met hem is. Ik probeer mijn best om alles te begrijpen. Ik kom geen stap verder tot mijn ergernis. Ik heb een cd van Madonna opgezet, om mij te kalmeren, om mij tot rust te brengen. Maar hoe kan ik rustig zijn als ik zo bezorgd was om hem? <br /><br />Er zijn een paar plannen die ik heb voor deze website. Ik ga toch mijn gedachtes neerkrabben over verschillende thema's. Ik ben op een forum geweest waar mensen debateerden over euthanasie, abortus en noem maar op. Omdat ik geen zin heb om ooit meer in discussie met iemand te gaan, om zo ver te komen dat ik mijn opinie moet verdedigen, zal ik ze maar hier neerschrijven. Dat is als ik tijd heb en zin. <br /><br />Mijn leven ziet er niet echt boeiend uit. Hij lichtte alles op, met zijn wezen, zijn aanwezigheid. Hij was en is de kracht die mij in stilte in de ochtend liet opstaan, al mijn taken liet uitvoeren. Nu wou ik niets anders dan mezelf wat aandoen. Er was geen reden meer voor mij om hier te zijn als hij er niet was. Het is alsof... je overbodig bent geworden. Als een puzzel. Alleen n past, niet meer. Vandaar dat ik dacht en wist dat niemand of niets hem ooit kon vervangen. Ik miste hem zo ontzettend erg dat het mij gewoon pijn deed en me telkens de tranen in de ogen deed schieten. Dan moest ik me verbergen op toilet om ze de vrije loop te laten. Ik hoop met heel mijn hart dat alles goed met hem is. Ik hoop dat hij gauw van zich laat horen, het was een kwelling om in onwetendheid te verkeren.<br /><br />De hele dag dacht ik alleen maar aan hem, ik kon aan niets anders denken. Ik dacht aan allerlei mooie scenario's, samen met hem. Waar we samen zijn, en verschillende leuke dingen doen, om maar niet te hoeven vertellen wat precies. Was ik vervloekt dat iedereen die ik zo intens liefhad nooit echt kon hebben? Of kon ervaren? Hij was anders, heel anders dan de voorgangers die ik heb gehad. Hij onderscheidde zich met zijn kwetsbaarheid, zachtheid en vriendelijkheid en liefheid. Met een positiviteit die ik nooit eerder bij iemand heb gezien. Hij was enorm zacht en schattig en dat heb hem zelf verteld, toen lachte hij zo hartelijk en warm. Het was waar. Nu had ik weer zin om in huilen uit te barsten. Wist hij wel hoeveel ik hem miste? Alles dat hij voor me betekent? En hoe mijn leven en dag eruit zag zonder hem? Ik wou niets liever dan doodgaan op het moment, hoewel ik de dood niet graag noem. Ik ging ervanuit dat eens je er niet meer bent, je meer bewustzijn had dan ik op het moment bezit. Je kon alles waarnemen. Alles wat een Aards mens niet kon. Ik zou weten waar hij zich bevond, hem beschermen ook al zou hij het misschien niet weten. Ik wou bij hem zijn, dag en nacht. Ik miste hem. <br /><br />Ik ben te verdrietig om verder mijn gedachtes kenbaar te maken. Was alles... zoals voorheen. Toen we samen lachten aan de telefoon, of... berichtjes naar elkaar toestuurden, om elkaar te steunen, op te vrolijken, maar vooral om elkaar te laten zien hoeveel we om elkaar geven. Ik wil dat deze dagen terugkomen. De leegte vrat aan mijn levendigheid die ik alleen had wanneer hij er was.|||2||
1123355307|enigma|Eenzaamheid|<font size="1"><i>Originally posted on Fri, 05 August 2005 03:18:31</i></font><br /><br />Ik heb besloten om eens verder te schrijven in het Nederlands. Het is een taal waar ik me altijd vrij voelde om alles neer te pennen, of te omschrijven ofschoon ik niet alle woorden meer kan herinneren omdat ik het zelden, of niet al te vaak met iemand spreek.<br /><br />Zoals de titel jou verteld, ben ik verzeild in eenzaamheid en het doet me ontieglijk veel pijn. Ik wil iets er tegen doen, antwoorden vinden, want er is iets gebeurd dat mij van mijn 'geluk' heeft beroofd. Ik weet letterlijk niet meer waar hij te vinden is. Ik zoek, ik kijk rondom mij heen. Ik bestudeer de wolken, kijk naar de mensen en alles dat leeft en niet leeft, echter kan ik het maar niet begrijpen. Er is niets te vinden die dit alles voor me kan ophelderen. Het meest keerde ik me om naar de lucht. Iedereen haalt adem, ons uitgeademde lucht ging weer iemand anders lijf binnen. Het was iets dat we met elkaar deelden, hoewel we het misschien niet leuk vonden. Echter haalden me de lucht in van criminelen, van zieken, van de doden... Ja, de stank, alles. Het was in ons, buiten ons overal. Ik dacht dat de lucht mij een antwoord kon geven waarom er momenteel niets word vernomen. Waarom ik me zo alleen voel. De lucht antwoordde niet. Het bleef maar zuchten en mij bevriezen (het is zo koud daarbuiten) en mij negeren. Er deden zich geen zichtbare antwoorden voor. Het is enorm koud, en alleen mijn tranen zijn mijn gezelschap. Ik wou dat hij er was. Alln hem. Niemand anders.<br /><br />Er is zoveel te vertellen vandaag, maar mijn gedachten vliegen overal heen en ik kan ze niet altijd volgen. Ik kan ze niet snel in een kist of koffer zetten om ze niet kwijt te raken. Ik raak ze vroeg of laat toch wel kwijt. Hetzelfde met inspiratie. Het is zo moeilijk voor me soms om ze neer te schrijven. Ik heb niet altijd even zin, of de lust... Nu had ik de lust gehad, echter is het me ontnomen. Wr verkeer ik in de eentonigheid, de niets-heid. Er belde wel iemand rond 13:13 vanmiddag, ik was over de wolken! Wellicht wou hij me spreken. Alleen ben ik niet zo zeker. Het was een anoniem nummer, hij zou me nooit anoniem bellen tenzij de telefoon van iemand anders was. Het kan iedereen zijn. Niemand heeft meer gebeld.<br /><br />Het vriest in mijn wezen. Ik kan niet vertellen hoe ik me voel. Het is alsof er iets niet klopt. Ik ben niet zoals voorheen. Iemand anders heeft mijn hart meegenomen, of... een gedeelte van mijn identiteit gestolen. Compleet ben ik niet. Dit alles gebeurde met zijn vertrek... Een vertrek waarvan ik niet zo zeker ben dat het echt is en waarnaartoe. Kon ik in de toekomst kijken, dan zou veel dingen duidelijk voor me zijn geweest. Ik zou weten waar hij op het moment uithing. Of hij in orde was, of juist ziek. Ik zou hem kunnen steunen, hem mijn alles geven. Alles, alles dat ik nooit aan iemand heb kunnen tonen. Mijn genegenheid, zorg en aandacht. Ik smachtte enorm om dat alles met hem te delen... Nu was het alleen maar een gedachte, leek het. Ik wou niet geloven. Hij moest er zijn, ...  er moet een reden zijn. Nu miste ik hem zo..|||2||
1123355243|enigma|Headache killer|<font size="1"><i>Originally posted on Thu, 04 August 2005 10:38:36</i></font><br /><br />All I have are journals, tummyaches, pains... and pains. Yesterday I was doing alright. That's acceptable or normal. When the pain has gotten all of me, made me out of breath, then it lets go of me a little. Then it gives me a little break, how considerate. As soon as I have gained some energy, it is up for some fun again.<br /><br />The headache is my own fault. I shouldn't have wept or else I'd be all fine. Am I the only one who suffers of migraine after crying, is it normal? I have had that too often. I couldn't resist all I am going through, currently. I try to go around the bushes or do anything to not have to think but the fact stayed I was in soltitude, once again. Once again, I was all on my own. It's so sad. I have always tried to prepare myself for any possible falls... Anything. I tell myself: <i>Enigma, you know how unpredictable the future is, anything you may be liking or finding pleasure in at the moment, could be gone the next minute. Always prepare yourself for such drastic change.</i> <br />I forgot to do so this time. Of course things never go the way I wish them to, why do I always forget? Why am I so forgetful? These are the consequences for having such a terrible mind. <br /><br />I can't sleep, I can't rest. The days are too long, for me it felt like I have not breathed in weeks while it's been a few days, not yet a week. There's so much I have to do, helping my mother. I am frustrated as I don't feel any lust to do nothing. I want to be locked up in a bedroom and stay there forever. Live and do everything in there untill I just wither by myself. It's worse I know, I'd be confronted with my thoughts and experiences easily. I only want to be somewhere to not be bothered by anyone or anything. Like on this island, like the Blue Lagoon movies. Only it's a personal choice. Also this place has to be peaceful. Maybe I'd want someone with me.. (of course I do, of course). Who else would I want?|||2||
1123355179|enigma|Tired|<font size="1"><i>Originally posted on Thu, 04 August 2005 08:57:10</i></font><br /><br />I don't feel like writing but I had a dream that is probably unlocking the mystery I am dealing with. I went to the doctor this morning and he told me I have to come back next week. Seems the 'wound' is still not healed, mainly soft. He told me to not use betadine or keep it closed in bandaids, so it will have some fresh air. I am not happy with his decision as this wound didn't look so yummy to anyone who sees me. I wished I ever wore my hair all out but I don't, or else it would cover it.<br /><br />Now the dream. I got in bed and started crying as my thoughts kept passing me by. I haven't cried this much before, not over someone, not even her. I think sometimes her arrogance turned me off... and I knew there would never be anything to worry about with her. Instead, this one is different, so different. I was never told to be something and I felt I wanted to do just anything... Now I didn't know what to do as I did not possess any knowledge at all. I must've fallen asleep while I were still crying as I woke up with my stomach full, as if it's filled with unshed tears and it kept me from eating. <br /><br />This dream is very important to me. I am starting to have hope though it wasn't a really nice normal dream. I dreamt I was with my cousin. Neither does she look like the normal family member, she's completely oppositie. Light skin, soft hair.. unlike me who has afrohair. I think the reason <i>she</i> appeared instead of someone else, is a very important symbol. I walked with her in a room where there was a mattress without any blankett, without anything on it. It was just there.. It was like someone was busy taking everything away and left a few things that can't be carried along, behind. (Eureka!?) As soon as I entered, she started strangling me. Not painfully at all... It kind of was arousing... and the things that happened next, are too explicit to write down. It's very obvious this dream is symbolic, as I'd never have such feelings for my cousin, even we were rather close when we were younger. Only not today.<br /><br />Later I saw her lying in bed, she appeared to be sick. There just was something bothering her. I saw myself ringing her a couple of times and the number wasn't working. The phone I was using was ancient I couldn't see the numbers too well. She was sad and I was rubbing her back like someone who <b>only</b> understood her, above anyone else. I am not sure if I am interpreting it as should, but it did have a few little things in it that did remind me of this other thing. She was grieving over her boyfriend who seemed to have eyes for someone else, that's what she thought. I recognized this as my fear. The whole dream isn't logical. It's more like... this morse coding or something. You have signs that look alike but mean completely different things. That's how I experienced a few scenes. I was yelling at people who didn't get her (mainly our family), as I was so affectionate of 'her'. I really felt attached to 'her' in a beautiful way. I know she represents someone else. <i>Most likely</i>. Sometimes her voice sounded different and between the call and me rubbing her back, it was like I could switch place. It's confusing. That's all I can remember. I woke up with a sore, unbearable headache. My mum had just finished preparing dinner, my favorite dish. I spoke about it before,... It's a typical foreign dish I like. <br /><br />If I am correct, this dream is telling me soon there will be answers, things clarifying this confusion. I've been so sad the whole day that I ate while I wasn't hungry. I ate almost anything I bought. If there was cheese, pudding, and cornflakes, I took a bit of everything. If I, for example, eat the whole cheese I'd get sick. So I vary the taste and maybe I reduced my sickness a little, but I still felt like I could vomit.<br /><br />F. the dutch guy I used to like, replied to me. I made a mistake sending him an email where I was notifying a few people that I wasn't longer using my previous account. I am too quickly... So, now I sent it to.. three people who actually didn't have to receive that mail. One was a girl I wasn't talking to anymore, she simply never replied to my letter I wrote her. In that letter I was showing my disgust towards her parents who treated her so badly... And she also convinced me in that letter I replied unto, that she was a cutter. I have never told her back that I was. I know.. many people tend to try to cut or to see if it helped or wondered how it felt like. She told me she never did it again as it hurt her family. I just cared about her and sometimes I go too deeply with my expressions that no one appreciates it. So she never replied and for that I hate her. She was pretending like nothing happened, writing me the mail she wrote, telling me she was starting a new study next month. I wasn't happy. Being in touch with her isn't a happy experience. I can't believe how much I've changed. <br /><br />I think I've written enough. I'll have to check my spellings and then I will do a few random things and turn the pc off. I am so tired. *yawns* I wished I could timetravel, dammit or that God was dead.|||2||
1123355036|enigma|The Internet|<font size="1"><i>Originally posted on Wed, 03 August 2005 06:15:33</i></font><br /><br /><b>Mood</b>: <Img src="http://people.ashspaceorg/enigma/icon_neutral.gif"> Not dead nor alive<br /><b>Listening to</b>: nothing<br /><br />The Internet has become a real dull place to be. It doesn't differ much from the life I'm living. Pointless, boring, empty, useless, lonely. Mu. was trying to send a few smses to her sister who called a few minutes or so ago. I was lying in bed awaiting a sign but nothing happened. She thought I would be able to fix the website, to make it send messages to her sister as it wasn't working (she still doesn't know exactly how the net works and thinks we all can fix everything). This is how I am fixing it (not that I can), sitting, browsing the net randomly. Mainly looking for suicide websites, that can inspire me or 'help' in some way.<br /><br />I'm checking all my mailboxes too, just in case but nothing interesting. I got a mail from T. where she's telling me about her life and how she also received my package which made her happy. I'm glad she is. It sounds not so friendly.. I don't know... but no one else could make me as happy as he would and does. I was neglecting anyone and anything, as I considered someone else as more important. I am evil.. But at least I can admit it to myself, a bit more everyday. If there was something I wished a lot, then it was to have someone who was everything at once. All in one. So I guess, in some way I never really felt bad when a friend left me or lost contact with me. T. is somehow nice into expressing herself and she's as detailed as I'd be if I wasn't too scared that someone would not value what I feel. I hope I can reply to her soon, that is when I have my life back.<br /><br />Tomorrow I'm going to the doctor to have the stitches removed. I am not eager to go. I know it will hurt badly. The whole incident last week was a horror. D. was telling me that he shouldn't have done the surgery by himself but he did. I should have faith in him, right? He was more educated than I was. I hope it all would heal soon and I could wash my hair. I had hard times sleeping on the sore side... but nowadays I don't care. It's only itchying a lot. I have to try my utmost best to not scratch it with my long 'dangerous' nails. My nails were my weapon of choice, sort of. They always defended me, even against evil B. If he was trying to be sadistic again, I only needed to seek skin and put lots of pressure to have him release me. It comforted me when I was outside. Even sometimes I am so afraid of men, that I used to carry a dagger with me. Just in case.<br /><br />I'm not really taking care of myself either for obvious reasons. I messed up my eating pattern again. I'm sad.. I can't read anything for distraction, what makes me wonder why I borrowed the books from the library? I can impossibly sit still glaring at a few letters, concentrating on their meaning. All I was doing daily was waiting. Waiting patiently, and impatiently. There's really nothing interesting in my life. Sometimes I'd catch myself thinking really bad things. Like something crashing in this planet, so I'd finally be dead. Or aliens taking over the place.. anything. I only felt ashamed as I wouldn't wish anything bad on innocent children, only the adults... I had no mercy with them. Many were not good examples, cared about things that later disappeared, had regret and it was too late. Things would never get better in any form or way. At least, if I lived long enough to die around my 70's, still there'd be anger, disaster and grief everywhere. I held my tongue when wishing bad stuff to the world, as I was taught that whatever you wish  upon someone, it would come back to you, or it would happen to someone you hold dear. That's something I'd <i>never</i> want to happen. So, I hope this place will blossom and many good things will come. Lots of enlightment and... yes, lights and stuff. Flowers, grass... air. Rainbows. Lots and lots of rainbows. One day we will <i>all</i> be happy, even I will be long time dead. Like countless of millenia. Still, let's pretend that this world is incredibly beautiful and humans are peaceful creatures. I was being manipulative... I had no other choice.|||2||
1123354873|enigma|Lonesome day|<font size="1"><i>Originally posted on Posted on Wed, 03 August 2005 02:37:09</i></font><br /><br /><b>Mood</b>: <img src="http://people.ashspaceorg/enigma/icon_sad.gif"> Unanimated<br /><b>Listening to</b>: television<br /><br />I feel happy that I have a blog script. That means no more manual blogging which sometimes kept me away from posting an entry. I had cutenews installed already but didn't know how to CHMOD a few files. Because I crashed the computer <i>again</i> yesterday, I won't be downloading any FTP programms. He threatened me already that he'd do something to me, not that I take him seriously. It's just better to prevent certain things from happening. So, this online ftp I am using had this CHMOD option. I tested it out and it worked. Therefor I am happy. It didn't take me too long to install everything.<br /><br />Aside from the succesful installation of the blogscript, I am not really happy if you think I am. I've been feeling 'lonely' a few days now. I am actually worried... Too worried. I don't dare to say anything... I am a sort of girl who always tries biting her lips, hoping things will sort theirself out eventually... so there wouldn't be any need to talk about anything. Everytime I heard something, I'd expect a ray of light in the darkness, instead it was just another crow, trying to scare me. I am saddened.<br /><br />My dreams are so useless. I always turn to my dreams for answers. I had this particular one which I can't interpret, it simply doesn't make any sense. I wished I could lucid dream. I even bought a book in the past to be able to teach myself the basics. I'm good in one-time- things. If I continue studying something, I don't get any results as in the beginning. I am incredibly restless. I think it's just my bad luck. I am a negative girl, filled with negative energy. How else can I explain the good things that I receive that sooner or later end up broken, in dust... or gone? It has made me overly pessimistic and insecure about myself. Or I wished I could look in the future... I wouldn't be sitting the way I sit here... with nothingness and the ignorance.<br /><br />I don't have much to say... I have a bad headache and I feel so incomplete. I hope for some news in a maximum time of two weeks. Or else I could start thinking negatively, even I was doing it already.|||2||
