Slightly Aimless

I have no idea what to blog about. There are too many disparate and contradictory themes running through my mind right now. I don't know whether to smile, whimper, or scream.

Smile: Life is good right now. I have all the basic things I need, like food, shelter, and vodka. I also have cool things, and can do cool things like writing and painting. I can even do Guitar Hero on medium now. I have ideas for stories, and a whole lot of sketches I can develop into proper art pieces. I even have a giant map of a world which I've created, which will occupy my mind for a while. I have no need to be bored.

Whimper: The continuing fail of having a burn on my hipbone, where my jeans will always rub against it, so it will take forever to heal. The fact that I will have to unbandage said burn, which is going to hurt, a lot, in the slightly less fun way. Made slightly more fun by the fact that I let someone burn me.

Scream: The parents. Are driving me insane. They are upstanding, hardworking citizens of the corporate greyworld, I am a semi-nocturnal waste of space. Conflict is inevitable, and is always blamed on me. Whenever I try and raise an issue with them, like asking them not to turn off the internet at 11pm because I work after that time, it always ends with me wanting to cry and smash things, and them comfortable in the belief that they are right anyway. My feelings and beliefs are constantly dismissed. Does anyone get how horrible that feels?

Maybe I'll just pour another drink. A million broken thought fragments are impaling my brain and scratching their way through my insides. Nothing is clear anymore. Oh, and a guy added me on Facebook specifically to tell me that it's nearly the end of the world. Seems even so-called shamans are prey to End Times paranoia. Yes, I think that drink is what I need.

Haha

I'm stoned and slightly drunk, sitting surrounded by vodka and weed. How cool?

Ultrafail

Vodka stopped working. This is the worst thing ever.

Good

I have vodka, guitar hero, paper and pencils for drawing and writing, and fairy cakes.

What more could I need?

Paranoia

There is a conspiracy going on. They are trying to steal my sleep. My dad sees that I am still awake at 3am. He then makes a special effort to tell my mother to wake me up as early as possible.

I have had 4 hours sleep. I've not had a proper night of restful sleep for a long time. I'm so tired I want to cry. I would go back to bed, but I can't sleep now. So instead I wander around, cursing humanity and swearing like a navvy. Since when was it acceptable to deny somebody sleep? Don't they use sleep deprivation as a form of endurance torture? Why the fuck is my dad so obsessed with making me wake up in the early morning? Is it intrinsically 'right' to do so? He seems to think that being semi-nocturnal makes me a bad person.

Actually he just straight up thinks I'm a bad person. Fuck it, I am a bad person, but why do people have to go out of their way to piss me off? Do they think it's funny? Do they think it makes them better people through some extensive and flawed chain of logic?

My head fucking hurts. I want some more vodka. Way to become an alcoholic, daft bitch. And my skin is black and falling off a 2 inch scald mark on my hip. I try and ask anyone who I can find at 3am how to fix this, but all I get is bollocks from random people who don't even know me, have never even met me, but still think they can judge me. I didn't even do this to myself.

And what kind of fucking selfish cunt am I anyway? I got told. 'My friend who died of cancer aged 18 would have given anything for the chances you have.' Ergo I must not harm myself in any way. Strangely, this did not have the motivating effect desired. Though luckily I think I've finally got bored of actual self harm. Not that I'm living a pure and healthful life, but I'm not actually attacking myself with knives, which I guess is progress.

I don't regret anything much. But sometimes peoples' reactions make me regret meeting them. People who say, in a portentious voice, 'You're going to have those scars forever.' You think I don't fucking know that? Do you think I'm so fucking stupid that I slashed myself up and expected it not to scar like a bitch?
See, normally I can put up with all this stuff. But right now I'm in a grouchy and just straight-up vindictive mood.
The basic point of this post is that humanity are fucking twats who should all go jump off a freaking cliff and straight into Hell where they belong.

I don't even believe in Hell. Fucktard. Just shut up now.

What kind of twat gets drunk on their own on a Sunday night?

What kind of twat asks for help? What kind of utter fucking idiot says things like that? Who talks to strangers? What kind of loser is awake at 4am? Why would anybody talk about stuff like that to somebody they don't know? And what kind of freak checks up on their friends behind their backs?

Fuck up. Total drunken idiot. You ask for trouble and pain and problems. You deserve it. Stupid whore. Why can't you be different?

Why aren't you a good person?

Be a good person, or you'll pay.

Yeah

I bought Guitar Hero. And today, I started playing. And I finished it on easy. This is a great achievement.
The last time I played it, I failed. Even on easy, I failed bad.

But now, I am better. Maybe one day, in the far future, I will actually be good. Oh dear. I'm turning into a person who plays too many games. Now I shall retreat into a haze of dope smoke, electronic entertainment and takeaway food.

Or maybe not...