Thursday, 8 April 2010
Wednesday, 7 April 2010
Sunday, 24 January 2010
Sometimes.
Life isn't fair. People are cruel, society expects too much and sometimes we just can't break free of the bonds of our own self-doubt. It is at times such as these that we need our friends and family to support us and to hold our hand as we walk over the broken glass that our problems have scattered before our bare feet.
My family doesn't work like that. I get told I'm too gay, too ugly, worthless...it brings me down. I don't care if my mum was drunk, she said those things and she meant them. I don't know what to do with her half the time, especially not when she embarrasses me like that in front of her friends (who, by the way, happened to be the parents of one of my friends). I just wanted to curl up and die. It is so humiliating to be spoken to like that and not be able to defend yourself because you know that it will only show you up more.
I wish she'd acknowledged me though. That might have helped me hurt a bit less.
In other news, some people need to grow up and get their heads out of their arses. For example, the bitch that has been hurting my best friend's family...you need to get your fucking head checked. Ches did nothing to you except try and stop you from destroying all that she's ever known and you go and report her to the police for something that she just wouldn't do. Did you know that it's an offence to waste police time? Well if you read this, you do now, and you better watch yourself because it's all you're doing. Seriously, grow the fuck up and go find someone else to pester.
And this goes to one of my friends, who I only met in September. You finished with her, so why the fuck are you making it out like she was the one that hurt you? Putting out tweets that you know she will read about how you're sucking face with some "fitty" is not funny. Your ex still loves you and you know it so why are you hell bent on hurting her the way you are? I felt sorta sorry for you after I found out about the breakup and hoped that the two of you would kiss and make up...maybe even get back together again. But now that I've seen what a spiteful little cat you are, I want her to stay well away from you. She's been through too much to be dragged down by your antics. And when you come crawling back to her, crying, because you've realised what you've thrown away, I hope she tells you to back off because you don't deserve her.
Aoife, if you read this (which I hope you will, because I'm going to send you the link), then I love you very, very much. Even though we've only known each other a little while, I care for you and I want you to know that if you need me, I will be there for you no matter what. Just drop me a text or a phone call or a tweet anytime you want.
Well, this has been a very long and depressing blog. Maybe next time, I'll be able to post some sunshine.
Saturday, 16 January 2010
Burn.
I'm not about to make up a lie and say that I haven't enjoyed myself for the past few days, because I have. Seriously, spending time with my closest friends is sometimes one of the few things that I live for. I like being able to let myself go and just enjoy myself.
But now that I'm back at home, everything's wrong again. Everything. My family don't seem to understand me; I'm just the weirdo, the freak that they have to live with. Sometimes I wonder if they wake up, see me and are disappointed because they thought all the things that are wrong with me - my mental health, my infatuation with alcohol, my "wrong choice" of sexuality, my lack of religion, even my fucking hair colour - were just part of some horrible nightmare that would haunt them for a little while...instead, they see me and realise that, actually, I am everything that they don't want.
I think about it a lot y'know? Death, I mean. I look in the mirror and think about cutting myself out of the world, like you might do with an old picture. One where you're stood with a former friend and at the time you both looked so happy, but now you look at it and see the evil in their eyes because they fucked you over, and all you feel when you look at the image is contempt. I look at myself, like the rest of the world does, and I'm so disgusted that I feel physically ill. I'm a freak - a goddamn fucking freak.
Sometimes I wish for peace, so that I can feel content with myself.
At other times, I wish I was more selfish so I could down all the pills and just disappear.
But 99% of the time...I just wish I was in her arms because when I'm with her, I feel like I belong somewhere.
I love my baby. If it wasn't for her...fuck, who knows what I would have become.
I know you're gonna read this sweetheart. I love you <3
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