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Untitled
Scribbled down on Monday, 15 August 2005 20:37:30 PM |
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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? 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 write 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 sneeuw voor de zon (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? 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). (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) 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: 'One day you'll see' 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* My mother's 'lunatics' consisted that each morning she'd wake up turning the tv disturbingly loud to somehow fight this man (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 tell me or he can simply walk straight and nicely to hell. 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. 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. I'm a black line on the wall, soon the painter will come and paint it away. |