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kävijäpiikki

Kannustajajoukot

Publish this in a few taps when I'm done

 My mother thinks I'm having a party. Actually I'm just vibing alone, playing the halloween playlist, drinking some 54% rum and beer and strawberry vodka. Ate lots of stuffed tortillas, and a bit of crisps and chocolate but mostly cola. I watched my fave celeb on instagram live.

The last time my mum had a different idea about me was when she was adamant I had begun being vegetarian.

The party just fell apart after one of the guests have disappeared. She left a hole in my likes on instagram.

I don't really have much plans. Just want to keep this atmosphere for as long as I can be slightly tipsy. I watched a Paranormal Activity movie. I think I might have to celebrate Samhain somehow but my wiccan practise is a part of me that's been doormant for years on the side. No rituals or spells much.

I'm her kid though. Her monster and hag and ugly bastard who is so ugly that doesn't deserve to live and a huge embarrassament but I can't remember any better compliments. Except everyone hates me, I'm repulsive and... not in a psychosis just a good person really but according to a shithead.

Hampster's not awake yet. Might stay up late maybe, got nothing to do.

We talked about True Blood in that tea meeting with the nerd girls. The theme song started playing and I was going to stop  (listening?) when I hear the "I wanna do bad things with you" but oh well. I mean my aunt who hit me with her fist to my mouth and leveled up my teeth when I was 17, told me once I'm a black magic woman and I didn't hate the song.

I am so afraid that everything will just stop, you know. Aneurysm, stroke, something that stops me from living. From feeling orgasms and small pleasures in life and dunno... somehow life being inherently different.

Well that's my gut feelings for now. Insane. in the membrane. I don't believe shuffle exist I've always been paranoid there is some dj slamming those perfect songs to fit the space? Like songs were made for me. I love lyrics more than the song and I don't mean like songs told about my life or held meaning of experience but like, nothing's just coincidence.

When I was little I held these monologues in my head before bedtime but couldn't remember about them the next day? Sometimes I cried myself to sleep until I cried so much my eyes swelled up and the mad tired laugh begun. 5pm to 1am I guess I just cried. No one heard or cared or came up to see if I was okay and sometimes at school too I might not talk to anyone all day and was so frustrated and angry I just screamed so that the whole town could hear.

It's endearing though. People don't want to believe schizophrenics experience anything supernatural and everything can be explained with scientific (psychology isn't a science though) "symptoms" inside the brain BUT I AM READY. Come what may. I am one of the people who are so. Out of touch with society's norms and pretty much have developed this endless "too much information" confidence that might kill me unless I didn't fear it, I crave it gravely.

I'm one one of the people who are SO SO SO SO inside the Shining that the empty walls you're speaking to might as well bleed. And who cares? I liked the 4 hour televised version better and the book about what happens after and it's movie (doctor sleep) makes so much sense etc

But yeah there's a monster under my bed sometimes and I'm friends with him. You name it. Love wins over everything. And I have given this internet my all and my form. Not sure how much is left. If I'm so shattered and in shards, a personality like a broken mirror you say. The mirror to the soul. So many have intact lives, imaginations that stay inside their heads and can't get out and I'm envious to the muggles who live without not expressing the passion by creating art of anything. Facts lie sometimes too. When I try to stay to facts... it's and endless pit of quotes and theories and research papers I'm leaning on.

I was bad at Biology in Finnish high school cuz I memorised my presentation and never did homework which was questioned for most part of the lessons. The teacher wanted us to read the book maybe? Or couldn't teach? I always want to tell how my first Swedish lessons were insane ...we were given sheets with a picture and lots of lines to fill in and the teacher wrote Swedish on the boards all lesson and thought we knew Swedish though I did not fill the sheet with anything because I knew no words in the language...

The opposite might be true with my blog. It feels like everything is full of empiric evidence and I had to pick and choose what to write and remake my reality on this virtual paper. Some call it stream of consciousness. I just want to weave the fabric of my universe with pretty shapes. Sometimes I write to throw hate letters at the world but mostly it's probably helpful...

I am not good at analysing. I just keep things in and bottle them up for later for use. Mostly I talk about old stuff that's happened because I don't plan the future much and I'm what I am like. Hate me until you grow up.

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