Aww

This is so sweet. In a totally different way. It'll make you smile.

It's 4am and everything is true. This deadtime, just me and the words. At 4am there's no one around to tell me I'm wrong.

I am sufficient at 4am. I have no needs, just intellectual curiosities and yearnings of the soul. Thoughts are brighter. Probably because everything else is dark.
They say my sleep patterns are screwed, but I think I'm meant to be this way. I'll shiver through the coldest dark, and leave my curtains open to see the moon. I'll stand vigil to every dawn. Just let me sleep through your dreary days, your dutiful mornings and cold-comfort lunches.
I'll tap tap tap all night like beetles in the woodwork keeping you awake. When I'm obliged to keep morning appointments, I'll drift in like a ghost, out of time and fading grey under your too-bright lights.
Keep your bedtimes and sleeping pills, keep your routines and your respectable day jobs. I walk through my own time.

Mess

Everything is one.
A mess.

I am back at my parents' house. He reached his limits first. Couldn't deal with me anymore. Found even anxiety attacks infuriating, and temper tantrums, no way.
We're still together. Just, I am 200 miles away filled with bitterness. The day I realised that clinical depression had returned and was causing many of my mood problems, he said I had to leave. Like, the next day.
I already had been threatening leaving. When you get yelled at for having anxiety attacks for stupid things, that tends to happen. And well, I'm also a psycho bitch. I lose it sometimes. I can switch out. I know I'm not good.
But still. When 'I'll be with you whatever happens' becomes 'I'll be with you unless you start suffering really frequent debilitating mental distress, in which case I'll chuck you out when you're at your lowest point' then well, it's hard not to feel a little abandoned.
I love that guy, but well. Here I am. Alone. It was bonfire night, and I stayed home alone. Halloween, the same. I don't blame him for that. I blame myself, and maybe I need some time alone.
Still.

This hurts. A lot. I don't sleep. I'm still waiting to be able to register with a doctor here. So much for 'go away and get better'. Hopefully on Monday I'll get the paper I need. Then I'll 'be better' and then I'll be able to make my decisions with the impression of a clear mind.

And God help us all.

Politics

Yes. Politics.

I have previously put quite a lot of effort into ignoring politics and all practicioners thereof. They are all tossers, and they can carry on being tossers up there in Westminister while I get on with my life.

However, it doesn't quite work like that does it? They do stupid things up there, and the shit rains down, not on their comfortably renumerated heads, but on the real people who live in this country.

We didn't even vote for this government. And why, just because I live in this country, do they have the right to tell me what to do? I was born here during pretty good times. Most of my life the global economic and political climate has been pretty comfortable, and in any case, I was too young to know anything about such things. Anyway, now everything has gone to shit, because of politicians, bankers, and other such high-up, unaccountable, and down-right shady wankers, apparently the ones who try to keep their heads down and get on with it are the ones who are going to suffer.

I am allergic to 'ist's and 'ism's. Capitalism, Communism, Anarchists, Socialists, all of them pretty much just passed me by. I'm also allergic to people telling me what to do, what to think.

But, thinking about it, I must be partly to blame for how shit everything is. I sit back, and watch the world unravel, feeling pissed off but not really doing anything about it. There must be millions like me. The apathetic angry, disatisfied yet utterly disconnected from the idea of action. How on Earth could l'il ole me make any difference in the world?

Well, maybe if we all tried, even a tiny little bit, then we could start a revolution.

So here I am, back on the Blog. This time it's to procrastinate from starting to write a new paper diary. New diary, new start, with nice clean paper and a nice expensive ink pen. So, scary. Fresh starts only stay fresh for so long, and then they start going musty and stale and end up all dirty and gross. I need a new start again, I've been a right dumbass lately. Mental issues, blah blah blah, usual stuff (see pretty much the whole rest of this blog).

So, happy stuff. I am magical and strange and changing.

Watch this space...

Writing.

It is something I'm good at. But right now I feel so burned out tired of it. This is the Sunday afternoon of creativity, after the frantic deadline-busting scramble, everything fades to grey and it is too much effort to do anything.
So I lie around and eat crisps and doubt myself and drink and have petty squabbles and submit a few things I wrote already to magazines as a poor substitute for real effort. I will never get published. I wonder what grade I'll get for my creative writing course. Maybe a fail. It is sunny and summer and everyone is light while I lie heavy and filled with doubt, as useless as a lead balloon and just as entertaining. I read. The work of others depresses me.

Writing this blog depresses me. Soon, I know, everything will come back again. This is the dormant time. But waitng. Impatience is one of my many vices, waiting for words is my least favourite thing. I need a summoning ritual. I shall create one, a sigil, a circle, an incantation to call the concepts, the muses, the burning idea which demands to be brought into life. I will create.

Time To BLOG!

Yes, I have been neglecting the blog again. But now I am back, with a whole new feature.

Friday's I'm in Love

Because this is usually a festering pit of negativity, every Friday I will post something happy and loving.
This Friday, I love the fact that I am going out tonight. Metal night at a pub, then a combined alternative and 80's night at a cool venue. I'm gonna scrub up and go out looking cool:

So. Me.

I'm writing this just to try and sort my head out. Who am I, and what do I want?

Well, I am Scabette. I'm a female human, slightly on the short side, socially inept, and over-thinkative. I love to write. I'm trying to eat more natural foods and use more natural beauty products instead of dubious chemicals. However I don't know if I can give up hairspray or dye. I'm sensitive to sugar. I dress to make a statement and love playing with looks and outfits. I love attention. I'm shy. I don't take criticism well. I'm learning (slowly) to cook. Currently I can make stir-fry and vegan masala. Next I think I'll learn proper home-made soup. Music is special to me and Amanda Palmer is my favourite artist. Also love Rammstein, Siouxsie, Bauhaus, Placebo, Sexgang Children, Einsturzende Neubaten, Sigur Ros, Goteki, Nick Cave, Tom Waits, a mssive list of utterly disparate influences. Music makes me a stronger person.

I love books. Stories. I love looking at art and finding beauty in unexpected places.

I am conflicted. I don't know where I'm going. I want a tattoo on my head where my hair's shaved for my failhawk. I love people but I always feel lonely.

I need to get out of my head, it sucks in here.

Click this link.

Oil companies are still evil.

Things I have learn from American movies

I want to be attractive, because obviously being attractive makes you worth more as a person. Ugly people are only for comic relief, or are in fact evil supervillains. Ugly women are the most horrendous thing ever and have absolutely no value whatsoever. Fat women are unacceptable. Fat men can be funny but only if they are jolly and/or losers (see also, Seth Rogen). A physically unattractive man can pull a beautiful woman because she will see his other good qualities. A physically ugly woman will never end up with a hot man, unless she undergoes a miraculous tranformation. Intelligent women are always either frigid bitches or bespectacled nerds. They will always terrify the male characters. If a couple break up, they will be petty and cruel to each other. People will always feel more sorry for the man. Women are usually teachers or secretaries. If they have high-flying careers then this will be seen as an anomaly. No woman ever in the history of everything has ever had stubbly legs. Periods exist only so people can make PMS jokes. Men are expected to have good jobs, always, and be inept at all childcare or domestic chores. All women can cook, unless they are ditzy (in which case they will probably also be blonde.) All women are horny, all the time, unless they are unfairly denying sex to the downtrodden man. Men can eat whatever they want without putting on weight. All attractive women weigh 120lbs or less. They too can eat what they want, but will never be shown finishing a meal. Women hate other women and care more about men than their friends. They will talk endlessly about men but never about themselves. A woman can only be fulfilled if she is in a long term relationship and preferably married. However marriage for men is a terrifying prospect which should be avoided for as long as possible.
This entire post is only one of the many many reasons that movies annoy me.

Massive Depressing Whine

I am angry. And kind of fuzzy from spending all day staring at a screen. My summer is going to be a total loss, again. No festivals, no money. And I'm not allowed to borrow money, even money that I can afford from my parents. I want to go to Sunrise. I want to do stuff. Anything.
I'm supposed to be doing my final assignment right now, but I'm feeling pretty uninspired. It's 50% of my marks for the creative writing course, and the result of said course determines my worth as a human being, so I am a little stressed.
Also, the ongoing identity crisis, people coming after us for money, and the fact that I spend a lot of time wanting to punch my boyfriend and myself and everyone and everything around me, then I suppose I do have cause to be a little anxious.

I think I am most angry because I am coming to the end of my irresponsible dossing period. I start almost full-time home study in October, and will be applying to universities, and generally having to be responsible and such. This feels like the last summer. And all my hopes for it are already lost. I want to cry.

I want

To wear dreadlocks in my hair and live in the desert and be beautiful and love women and stargaze and write poetry and be a boy and wear high heels and be paid for sex and be a feminist and do charity work and teach english. I want to wear baggy trousers and dirty trainers and smoke spliffs in dives and wear miniskirts and fluffy boots and take ket at raves and go to festivals and meet people and run away to sea and drink wine in paris and germany and smoke shisha in morocco and get tattoos and trek through the jungle and fuck chicks with dicks and be in a fist fight and run marathons. I want to be androynous and feminine and masculine and strong and fragile and intelligent and sensuous and magical. I want to watch the sun rise over stonehenge and set in the pacific ocean and I want to hold hands and feel hands round my neck and be published in magazines and paint pictures and make scrapbooks and take photographs and play cards in the galley of a freighter and sleep where there are rats and walk round the world and ride horses on the steppes and sleep under the stars and drink martinis in plush hotels and seduce rich men and sleep on feather beds and get drunk on champagne and wear couture and protest social injustice and take many lovers and write journals and be amazed and amazing.

I want.

I HATE ZOMBIES

NYAAARGH GRAAAARGH AAARNGH GRAAARGH. Look at me I'm mouldy and gross.

Seriously, I hate zombies. Ever since the Zombie Survival Guide, it has, for some unknown reason, been cool to believe in the Zombie Apocalypse. Not like, actually believe, but some kind of ironic postmodern 'belief' which involves wearing stupid t-shirts and reading World War Z.

This rant is all Owner's fault. He is sitting next to me, reading World War Z and telling me about how AWESOME it is, and how ZOMBIES ARE REAL and how Max Brooks actually knows how the Zombie Apocalypse will go down.

Because, of course, there is such a thing as zombies. There is an actual zombie virus. Because if you say it is a virus, then that makes it sound scientifically plausable. No, wait, actually, it doesn't. BECAUSE DEAD PEOPLE ACTUALLY DON'T WALK AROUND EATING PEOPLE. On a wider more general rant, I hate it when people try to create pseudo-scientific explanations for supernatural horror phenomena (phenomenons?/phenomenon?/phenomeni?). It actually makes them seem less believable. Scientific theories have to stand up to rational examination, but if you just chalk it up to 'supernatural forces beyond our understanding' then you have a free ride to defy the laws of physics. This also works if you blame an obscure quantum phenomena, because quantum physics is basically witchcraft.

I also hate the wild conspiracy theories. There are zombies all over the place, but some kind of world wide government conspiracy is covering it up. As if. This scary all-powerful government can't sort out a budget, or give kids a decent education, or stop teenagers stabbing each other, so like Hell are they able to control and cover up a zombie outbreak. I hate conspiracy theorists. I met somebody once who genuinely believed that the Jews paid the Nazis to commit the Holocaust, and at the same time said JewNazis invented aspartame as an agent of mind control to make women more susceptible to subliminal advertising. Of course, in his warped mind, the Jews also commited 9/11. He probably actually believes in zombies too. And aliens.

So, basically, zombies suck, they are not cool. They may reflect our modern anxieties about consumerism and our paranoia about pandemics, but I do not care. HATE.

HATE

HATE

I came back!

Wordpress was scary and cold and lonely. I have decided to return.

A bunch of stuff has happened. We moved in to our new flat, and then after about a month, Owner's bestest man friend moved into the spare room. Now, I know that sounds pretty sucky, because I was all overjoyed about finally having our own place, but he pays us rent, and is out at work most days anyway. I should explain this guy a bit. Me and Owner and him had a threesome once, but for some weird reason we are mortal enemies with a desperate urge to wind each other up. It doesn't help that he is rascist, misogynist, homophobic, and obsessed with COD. Yeah, I know, that sounds like a stereotype, but that's Alex. He's alright really, it's quite nice having him around. We gave him his first drugs and everything. None of us had ever done K before, but we decided to buy a gram and see what happened. It was awesome. Everything became absolutely surreal. Music had power, and time and space seemed to shift at will. I love drugs. However, and especially if you're reading this as an officer of the law, I don't have any. I'm not even kidding. I wish I did, but I'm not rich enought to be able to keep a stash. If I had the money, I'd have a proper Fear and Loathing style box of tricks. For now, I will bide my time...

Anything else happening? Well, I need to write either 2,500 words of fiction, or 80-100 lines of poetry, or 1,200 words of fiction AND 40-50 lines of poetry in the next 14 days.

Also I think I'm going mental. Or just should not be allowed quite so much sugar and caffeine. Yeah, that's the only reason I finally got motivated to blog. I was considering starting an actual paper diary, but then I realised that we invented computers for a reason and I get hand cramp if I have to write in the real world. So, in my overstimulated daze of infinite possibility, I decided to once again spew random verbiage into the interwebs.

I will be posting a bunch more crap so watch out.

Komrades

I am defecting to WordPress.

Goodbye.

Time flies...

...when stuff happens. Or something. I blinked and it was Spring. In eight days we move out, to spend a summer by the sea. This is our last week in this room, this house. I can't wait. We've had some awesome times here, some crazy times, and some pretty sucky ones too (PigBeast™ and thieving little git spring to mind) but it is definitely time to move on. For one thing, the house is a total mess and I can not be bothered to keep on tidying. A small, non-shared place will be fine, but I do rankle at having to clean up after other people. Not that I do any cleaning anymore, but never mind. Also, we will all be living near each other and nearer our friends, not to mention the Common and the seafront. I can go running. Yeah. Me. Running. Or jogging. Or, more likely, limping like a retarded cripple.
Today I am having to talk to people on the phone. We have just got the internet sorted for our new place. That was the first utility we bought, because we have our priorities straight. We can do without water, gas or electric, as long as we have our broadband.

Who am I? Why am I?

Social Conditioning (Warning! Thought Tangents Ahead!)

Think about yourself. The hugely complex set of thoughts, desires, goals, morals, ideas and assumptions that make you 'You'.

Which parts of yourself have you consciously chosen? And which parts did you simply assume?

The majority of people will be either male or female. And maybe you have never thought much further than that. You simply grew into a socially conditioned version of your biology, without ever questioning what, exactly, this means. Which qualities are specifically masculine or feminine? How much of who you are is inborn, and how much is a product of how you were brought up, the culture which you have been steeped in since the day you were born?

If you had the choice, would you still be the way you are? If you could start again from scratch, what would you change?

What is right and wrong? How do you know? Have you examined the ethics of your actions in the world, or do you simply assume that, because you live a 'normal' life, then you must be doing ok?

Speaking of 'normal', what do you see as normal? What is acceptable? These ideas are inextricably linked to the wider society. Do you agree with the majority view because you have critically examined it and found it to be right, or simply because it is so pervasive that you may not even have noticed its influence?

Maybe you deliberately try to act counter to social norms. Maybe for the fun of it, or maybe because you are trying to change something. Are you being truly subversive? Are you really changing anything? Is what you are doing right? Or are you simply reacting against society in a meaningless way? Or perhaps you are following different norms. The subculture, the political movement, the rebel alliance you belong to, why have you chosen it? What does it do for you?

Is everything you do motivated only by the ego? Are all your actions simply designed to support your world view? If you changed your beliefs, would your personal identity crumble around you?

I am trying to critically examine every part of my life. This is, possibly, a recipe for some kind of horrendous post-modernist mental breakdown, but hey, I need something to fill my time.

Mmm, Politics.

"Vote Conservative, puny humans" - Robert Mugabe

Thinkativity

Well, here we are. Yesterday was my first anniversary with Owner. A year ago I agreed to be his, despite my never having met him in person. So our Real Actual Anniversary is not until 22nd April. Which is good because we didn't do anything much to mark yesterday. I don't quite understand anniversaries, what with never having had a relationship reach six months, and I still don't understand people who make such an enormous deal out of them. 'Ooh, we've been together for three months today, break out the caviar and champagne!' 'It's seven weeks since we moved in together, so I bought you a diamond!' It's fourteen months since I first kissed you, have a million dollars!'

Anyway, things are going very well. I have got over myself to a certain extent, which might make this blog a little more boring but it has helped the relationship a whole lot. We are still deeply in love, and I am eternally grateful to M for putting up with me through the winter, which was not good. I think I do have Seasonal Affective Disorder, which coupled with woman hormones turned me into the Crazy Psycho Bitch From Hell. Generally it was a bit bad, but now I am feeling better.

We move house in 14 days. Our own place. I am insanely excited. Everything got confirmed yesterday, we've paid our deposit and booked the moving van. Our own flat. I can walk around naked all freaking day! I hope the central heating is good...

I have been extensively thinking about all kinds of things. The usual young adult stew of philosophy, self identity, meaning, place, etc. I have been critically examining -isms and -ologies, and most of them have come up lacking. Communism is sweet but deluded, Radical Feminists I want to punch in the tits, Capitalism is the grim swamp we are swimming in right now, Anarchy is pretty foolish... It seems that the only -ism I like is masochism, and even that comes with a few qualifiers. Maybe I should set myself up as a Cynic. But then I haven't read up on Cynicism yet. Screw all of these ideologies and philosophies. I think I will aim to be a free-roaming intellectual maverick. Fuck yeah.

Well.

Owner has really banned me from drinking.

I am on a diet and have lost 3lbs this month.

I got 89% and 90% in the first two assignments of my creative writing course.

Things seem to be going pretty well.

This is the stupidest thing ever invented.