Scary stories

A little while back I talked about sad stories because I'd just finished a series that I had found terribly sad and quite tragic. Well now I'm watching a series that is sad but instead of tragic it's terrifying.

Holy shit man. Holy shit.

Why the actual fuck do people make shows like this, and why, for the love of God why, why do we watch them?

I finished an episode of this terrifying show not five minutes ago and the first thing I did was check under my bed to see if there was a monster hiding there. I'm nineteen years old, I should not be looking for monsters under my bed. Seriously man. Fuck.

I'm scared enough of the world as it is, and frankly to be very honest the world is a scary place. It doesn't need help. It doesn't need extra monsters to make things interesting.

And yet, who doesn't love a good horror story?

We are fucked up creatures. It's the only logical explanation I can think of for this kind of behaviour. I mean I love this show. I think it's brilliant and I'll watch the new episode that comes out next week.

But because of this show I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to sleep tonight. And I'll probably have the exact same problem next week. So why do I even like this show? Why do I insist on watching it? Why?

I don't have one blessed clue.

Friendship

Friendship comes in many different shapes and sizes.

I have friends that I only seem to be friends with if I keep in regular contact with them, and speak or see them every day.

I have friends that I've known my whole life, and friends that I've only known for a few years or even months.

Some friends I talk to everyday but trust only moderately. Other friends I only talk to every now and again and yet they know everything about me.

I have many friends that I only see once or twice a year, and to whom I only speak to occasionally. And yet many of these friends are the friends I'm the most fond of. In fact one of these very friends is my best friend and obviously I love her to pieces.

Friends come in so many different colours and shapes I can't even begin to describe it. I have friends that I can talk to when I'm sad, friends to whom I can talk complete and utter nonsense with, friends who will tell me when I'm being an idiot...

Friendship is the most important thing in the world. I don't know what I'd do without mine. I guess I'd probably be insane.

Friendship. What a wonderful thing.

Cold rain on warm skin

I spent my entire day in my bed, reading. I haven't been doing much of anything this past week. I have no energy and no desire to make an effort.

I haven't been going outside, or putting on make-up, or eating proper regular meals, I've only been showering minimally (enough to be clean, but not enough to be properly presentable). I haven't been bothering to take proper care of myself one might say. 

I'm not sure my mother appreciates this. She doesn't think I look very nice when I do this. I feel like she doesn't understand that that's the point. 

I'm inside alone. I don't have to look nice. There's no point in making any efforts.

I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it. How much I had missed being able to not give one damn about how I look. To be able to go out for a walk with no make-up, unbrushed hair, unflattering clothes, in the rain and looking like a drowned rat.

We care too much these days. I hadn't realised how afflicted with this concern for looks I had become. I wouldn't go out without doing something with my hair, or spreading cosmetics over my face. For fear of not being presentable.

Not being presentable to who? I don't think anyone knows the answer to that.

People will always prod at other people. And so we all suffer the influence of the prodding. But every now and again it's nice to ignore what everyone thinks. To walk outside in the rain and look like shit.

It's funny how looking like shit can feel so much better and far more liberating than looking perfectly presentable and nice.

I think that we all need to remember that sometimes.

No future

No future. Wasn't that what the punks would say back in the 70s? No future, two words that sum up a complete and utter hopelessness about what life still has to offer.

No future. I've been thinking about that a lot these past few days. I only put those two words on what I was feeling today, but I've been feeling that way since Friday.

Heavy. Heavy and blank. Heavy, blank and tired, oh so very tired.

I get my results on the 7th of June. I was finally able to give the date of my doom to my mother. She'd been asking for that date for weeks. I wonder if she's noticed or not. Has she seen how listless I've been these past few days.

Probably not. She's pretty occupied with herself and her immediate family bless her. Her immediate family being her husband and baby daughter. Not that she doesn't consider me as family. I'm just not quite so immediate anymore.

She thinks I have a future. She thinks that one day not so far away it'll all click into place. I'll find a man. Graduate. Get a job. Get married. Have kids. A normal boring life just like everyone else.

That's not a future. That's doom. That's a boring listless existence right there in front of me according to my mother. That's whats expected for me. That's what's expected of me.

I don't want it. Leave me be.

And it will leave me be. Because I'll never find a man, I don't trust them. I'll graduate but it will mean nothing. I'll get a job just to survive. I'll never marry because marriage is dead. I'll never have children because I dislike them. I will stay alone, safe.

No future for me.

Influence

This evening my mother tried to give me a lecture about certain people in my life trying to influence me into doing things that I don't want to do. Or telling me things that aren't true. Generally speaking the message was "don't listen to what these people say to you or do what they tell you to do."

I feel like I might be passing off as a little stupider than I might like.

I did what I usually do when someone starts saying things to me that I don't really appreciate. That is to say that I said nothing and remained quiet. I don't like conflict, I don't see the point. I'll keep my opinions to myself as I usually do.

Some of my friends might laugh reading this. I don't keep my opinions to myself with them in a lot of cases. But generally speaking I do have a tendency of keeping my mouth shut.

Funny though. Because although I love my mother this does need to be said. The person who tries to influence me the most is her. Seriously. And to avoid letting someone else influence me, she tried to influence me to stop trusting them.

What?

Seriously though I'm not quite as dumb as I look or sound. I have convictions and I have beliefs that people have tried to pry away from me. Tried being the important word here.

I may not know what I want, or why, or when, or where. But I do most certainly know what I am willing or not willing to do ever in any possible scenario.

So yes mum, a lot of people may try to influence me. But they're not always who you'd expect. And I am a little upset that you'd try and make me believe that I'm not capable of deciding myself who I can and can't trust in this world.

Sick and feeling like shit

I'm sick. It hit me yesterday evening at eight o'clock. I started shivering, so I got into bed with and extra heavy blanket. And despite it being may and being covered in bed covers made for deep winter I was still freezing.

Brilliant.

To add to my pain, I also had a headache and felt dizzy. A little later on in the evening I got a sore throat. So I spent half the night awake shivering and weak.

Then at around three in the morning my body decided it was bored being cold. Time to feel far too hot instead, and sweat buckets!

I didn't sleep at all in any case. Which is extremely practical seeing as I had my very last exam this morning.

Yeah that was fun. Getting up, feeling dizzy, aching all over and wondering if I'm going to throw up is exactly how I wanted to feel right before an exam in international relations that I didn't feel prepared for at all.

Good times.

And now I'm going back to bed. And I'm not going to move until this sudden illness decides it's had its fun with me and leaves me alone.

Flash post

My final exam of the semester is tomorrow. I'm not overly confident but that's hardly news. I hardly finished writing up my notes an hour ago.

Also once that's done I have to move my stuff over to my new apartment, without actually settling in because my room is still occupied.

And then there's the fact that I have almost nothing to eat in my current place of residence seeing as I don't want to have to throw out any food.

And as for my summer job, I have no idea what's going on because everyone keeps giving me different information.

It never rains but it pours.

Secrets

Everyone has secrets. Everyone. No exceptions.

I don't tell everyone everything. There are some people that I trust more than others, and so those people are aware of more of my secrets. But those people are few. And even then they don't know every detail of everything.

And that's normal I think. Everyone feels the need to keep certain things to themselves. Sometimes it's for fear of judgement, or because they feel like their secret could be used as a weapon against them. Sometimes it's not even on purpose. You just didn't feel the need to tell this person this thing.

There are certain things that I don't tell my parents, or my friends. There's a lot of stuff that I don't talk about here too.

It's almost funny really. My mother for instance always assures me that all she wants is my happiness, so in theory I could tell her anything. And yet there are things I keep from her because I know that she would try to convince me that my choices or feelings or even beliefs are wrong. It's the same with my dad.

I keep these things to myself. One day I may tell them. But only when I know that I will be able to defend myself against them. Or when their opinions won't matter to me anymore. Whichever comes first.

Insomnia

Have you ever just not been able to sleep? At all? No matter what you try? Well that happened to me the night before last, and the night before that.

It's the worst, it really is. Because you're so tired, and all you want to do is close your eyes and drift off. But you don't. You just end up waiting and waiting and waiting.

It's so boring.

I don't know why I couldn't sleep the first night. But I dealt with the boredom easily by reading a book. Simple solution really. I mean I was at home in my own room, I was hardly in the way right?

But the second night. Oh boy.

Firstly I was still exhausted because of my first night of insomnia. This made me assume that I would fall asleep quickly. But you see that night I wasn't at home, but I was staying over at my my aunt and uncles and I was sharing a room with my younger cousin and my four and a half year old sister.

Sleeping with my cousin? Easy. Done before and there is no problem. But sleeping with my sister? Dear Lord.

My little sister snores like an adult man. Not kidding. Try sleeping on an air  mattress listening to that!

I ended up escaping into the living room to sleep on the couch. But even then I couldn't sleep. I didn't bring my blanket with me you see, and I didn't want to go back up and risk waking everyone up. And I couldn't find a light switch so it was pitch dark.

No book. No music. No Internet. Absolutely nothing for me to do at all. So I just waited for the night to pass. Slowly. Oh so very slowly...

Insomnia. It's the worst.

Velvet, the obese cat

Velvet is my cat and he's my baby. I love him so much, and I am clearly on my way to becoming a crazy cat lady. To my eyes he is perfect, and I will not hear a word against him.

That being said...

We took Velvet to the vet about a week or so ago. Two weeks? I don't know. I'm not very good at evaluating the passage of time. Anyways we took him to the vets because he wasn't very clean (especially around his back legs... you get the picture), and he had lots and lots of knots in his fur. So the vet shaved off the knots, and cleaned up his backside. Other then that all went well.

So the vet hands him back to me and that's when she said those fatal words.

"Your cat is obese and he can't clean himself properly, not because he is lazy, but because he is literally, physically incapable of reaching his back legs. So you're going to have to do it for him".

My cat is obese. My cat is obese.

My cat is obese, and so now I have to wipe up his bum every day. The vet even gave me special soap to clean him up properly.

He's lucky that I love him so very very very much.

New music

Isn't discovering new music the best thing? And I don't mean music that's actually new, but music that you've only just heard for the first time, music that you think is completely brilliant, and it's all completely new to your ears.

I love that. It's just so fresh after listening to music you've had for ages on repeat.

I downloaded a new album a few days ago, and I've been listening to it non-stop ever since. I had to put in on my phone instead of on my ipod because my itunes library is on another computer. Still my phone is good too, and as long as I can listen to my music I don't care where I listen to it.

I find it's the little things that make you happy in life. The little things like discovering new music to enjoy.

Babies

My youngest auntie had a baby boy on the first of may, three days ago. His name is Gearoid (pronounced Gah-road) and from the look of the pictures I've seen of him he's a lovely little baby.

I'm glad. His parents are great fun, and they're wonderful people. They deserve a lovely baby.

I remember when my aunt told me she was pregnant. She was really happy and excited, but she a little nervous telling me. I think it's cause everyone in my family knows I'm not overly fond of kids, and she was the last member in our family who didn't have any. She was worried I would be disappointed. Silly really. I love her, so of course I'll love her baby. I love him already, and I've never even seen him.

And I'm sure that when I croon over the lovely darling, everyone will laugh about how I might change my mind yet. "You sure you don't want any kids?" they will ask me. I know they'll do this cause they did the very same thing when my mum had my sister, and when my uncle had his two boys.

The answer is no. No, no, no. No children. Thank you very much.

I'm not sure why I'm so against the idea of kids. Maybe it's cause I find them irritating when I spend too much time with them. Maybe it's the idea of having to take care of sometime financially for over 18 years.

But I think it probably  has more to do with myself then with the actual kids.

I had a dream I had a little girl not so long ago. I woke up crying because in the dream I had realised that she was going to grow up, and I was going to lose all control of how to protect her. You can't protect a kid from everything. No matter what you do at some point something will happen, and that child will experience pain.

The world's a rabid animal, and it likes to bite.

I've had enough pain, and I don't want to inflict on anyone. And when I think to myself how good I've got it compared to others it just makes me think how awful it all is.

So no kids. They're annoying, and a pain, and a responsibility that I don't want. I don't want kids, and I don't want marriage. But that's a story for an other day.