i dreamed you up again

 i have dreams where my desire for fulfilling love are almost met and i rest easy and happily in someones presence. i felt that way this weekend after our cryptopsy/athiest concert. i shared a beautiful evening with friends and even got to meet the band. i was so happy i couldnt want the night to end. i woke up sore with a huge gash on my knees from when i feel in the moshpit and my nose sore from when someone elbowed me in the moshpit. i was happy and refreshed.

i keep dreaming of love and someone not resisting. i cant help but feel jealous of girls who are naturally alluring. i feel something wrong with me. i dream of old friends and old somethings and we get second chances. i feel so alone. i feel so alone today. i want to be beautiful and light, but i cant fit that shoe. im an eccentric. ive been watching some movies still and making cocktails.

i keep crying about lynch and this clip from twin peaks. my little friend group seems to be seeing each other less with the jobs and everything. i feel like i cant keep up. im waiting for things to happen but they wont. i want to live life. i saw someone say they pretend that they were 80 and one day magically woke up being 35 again, that they acted as if by some miracle they were given 40 years of life back and they could try again. i cant though. what can i even do at all.

im so horribly depressed and i know that even though i mask my sadness i cant truly shake it from my shoulders. i know my heft is felt by everyone around me. classes are going very well. what can i do?

i feel so terribly lonely. my parents are tense with me, my mother is cruel and tells me i dont love her all to have me cry and leave her alone. i dont know where to go from here. i want to be optimistic but things are boring. he keeps doing it over and over again and for the life of me i cant even move anymore. i lie limp and wait, i disassociate. i imagined a dark teal soviet union bunker. last time it happened he ditched me right after to go with friends. it felt horrible. i cant even say anything anymore and i keep away from that word. i begged him not to. but hes kind enough. i need him around.

 i went back home and tried to shake it off but i ended up crying. i made myself a margarita and the lemons were bitter. so i had some wine and it was a bit off. so i made sangria. i watched fleabag, i really loved it. too bad its only a couple seasons with some half dozen 20 minute episodes. its very good for all that. im getting my four piercings done sometime this week or the next.

what the hell can i do. im maybe doing a small comic thing with a friend. i spent friday in some coffee waiting for him to finish his homework. i sang and composed. someone approached me to know if i sang live somewhere. yay. lord.

nazi bitches in congress who wouldve thought

 im sort of in the middle of a huge shift in my life i dont know if id rather do excels for the rest of my life but i sure as hell know i dont wanna be a therapist and i dont know its all splitting me in half. my tattoo went real great and now im planning for some more below the belt piercings. im thinking two rows of three rings, triple barbell up there, a horseshoe right at the front.

i dont know man. 

ive been settling into my gender identity, im more comfortable with queerness than i used to be. im presenting much more feminine and theatrical. my nails and lashes are always dramatic and long. im playing the banjo and guitar still. im always in a dress and heels. my makeup is always done perfectly. 

im seeing cryptopsy very soon! im very, very excited. i feel my relationship is running dry. im running dry. its not fun. never was as fun as i wish it could be but im seriously worried now. my fear of his incoming death stops me from taking rational decisions or ever letting myself be properly angry. the state of the world is worrying to me. so, so horribly worrying. i was never one to worry too much. i feel like a bad friend. im terrified for the future of the world. my college professors do their best to accomodate non binary students or name changes. i am not out yet. but half of them are still conservative catholics. i miss the church and the popes health has me in shambles with worry.

“What I am going to say is not a dogma of faith but my own personal view: I like to think of hell as empty; I hope it is”

single most beautiful thing that has ever been said. when i heard it i was brought to tears. a true man of faith for once at the lead of the church of Christ. i hope to God and pray endlessly for the next pope to be as virtuous.

i hope hell is empty. i hope its not eternal. all of my friends would go to hell and so would i. i dont believe i deserve heaven but a lot of them do. peace for once. please, Lord.

sometimes i feel like the cruelty of the world is too much and there is no stairway to heaven in this horrible place. i feel this may very well be hell. i hope hell isnt worse than this. 

i lie without a twitch and he forces himself on me. not with too much brutishness, i cant do much about it now. i can kiss or move. i look at the blue light from the window and imagine snow outside. i cant care. this was it. ill do whatever for a bit of peace of mind. i dont do much about my life and i need to get to reading or something. 

i miss my friends. i got influenza and wasnt able to go out this week. im so stupidly upset for no reason. i think i may be depressed. ive had like five people tell me im sexually frustrated. including my own prude of a mother. i dont think so. im frustrated in every single other way. i need lip fillers or hair extensions or something. and to fix up my god damned room.

and i do dream of love. i dream of sweet love and holding hands and holding each others heads and hanging by someones shoulders, someone truly beautiful i feel connected to not just familiar. i wake up and i guess what i have is fine. im sure gonna sound stupid if something happened to him and i lose everything i ever had then. i can only appreciate him in the context of losing him. but im unhappy now. ill be unhappier with nothing. without him i dont know where i would go again. 

see how stupid i can be?

im not gonna start writing on things that dont pertain to me

on twitter some days ago i found that lilly collins (of to the bone which is an awful movie and emily in paris which is an even more awful series with which i have fond memories of) has decided to rent a surrogate mother in order to have her first child. some of the comments were of interest to me.

people defending lilly for her choice since she had been an anorexic for much of her youth apparently and was likely to be suffering from infertility because of it. bof. 

i find it interesting how people view rights, themselves, families, etc. i find it particularly funny how a womans bodily sanctity (and i dont mean this as in sacred, necessarily. i mean it more in a sense that the reason why it would be wrong to pay for a woman to be pregnant only for you to buy the child is inherently satanic vibes and off in every sense, it infringes on something more intangible and holistic, more so than stealing someones car or vandalizing their home)  can be squashed for money as long as shes poor and the solicitor is rich (many such cases).

why would collins previous fight with anorexia justify the breaking and entering on another womans body. mental disturbances such as anorexia are obviously hell. as an anorexic myself who has for too long suffered from the consequences i can obviously sympathize with the specific rotting, scalping feeling of anorexia or any eating disorder. but why would my suffering which, lets be honest, i brought upon myself in a way (maybe not me but my own stubborness and apathy or self loathing, you know what i mean) entitle me to someone elses womb and child. this is not a think piece its just my brain being scrambled. would i be too busy navel gazing to face the cruelty of the industry and the brutality i financed.

i think its an attitude i find within myself and see within a lot of people who have suffered. thinking on 

why do people feel entitled to children? i dont think anorexics or previous anorexics have any business being moms. family building should be a privilege. who knows what a mess.

could that be it? is collins stupid. i dont know. super gross behavior.

david lynch

 he passed two weeks ago. he was a father to me, his worlds were a home i never left. its weird. i got the call in my car before getting my nails done and i bawled in my car. i dont wanna talk much about it, just a little, im devastated and i had to wait a while just to mention it.

 the night before he passed i had a dream of an effeminate little boy. filmed just like his lingering scenes with that orange green tone. he lived with his mom who loved him but feared for him. it seemed to be cold ontario or oregon and he had this big red jacket. i remember murmurs in the town about some cat scratch fever or something that was spreading, it was contagious. half quarantine. the boy fell with the fever and in his dreary haze he went downstairs. his mom owned a printing shop or a stationary shop something like that and he was a huge fan of marilyn monroe. he went downstairs to fetch a poster he had drawn of marilyn and his mom was sitting on a couch by the door. he got scared, thought that he was getting scolded since it was so late. as he turned for the stairs he heard marilyns voice and she had turned into marilyn monroe, he was starstruck, face plumped with the glow. in a blink she turned into a barn owl and attacked him.

lynch i think is the single greatest artist of our generation and generations past. such magic never to be replicated. the beauty and unabashed, unashamed dedication to his art has always inspired me. not for a second did he succumb to conventions, to anything but the world he could see but we couldnt. i am devastated but so thankful.

we watched eraserhead last weekend and it left us all silent and sleepless. we have been watching twin peaks for six months. it puts us all down. i felt he understood me, i felt as if we could have had a nice chat over coffee. what a privilege but what a loss. i wish i could talk to him. i am always happy to put on his movies or some soundtrack. i wonder when he will come back and in what shape, but something tells me he wont. he is off somewhere nice. 

i will always remember lynch, everyday i think of him, everyday. me and so many others. rest in peace.

there i am

i wasnt but i was and it felt horrible. ive chronicled every aspect of it in my mind, all my notebooks, scattered everywhere, it stains every cup and can and cigarette. its smeared over my body like shit and mud. i thought id be safe, from myself, from him, in his arms, he was stupid, not malevolent, i wanted to die.

i cant carry my classes through mentions of anything sexual. i cant. ill tell my professors that. i cant miss another year but i cant find help. i loathe him. if he died i would kill myself and he didnt do anything wrong. only in that aspect of my life. i want to get our old love back, my hair is now down to my jaw. 

then i try to leave and i think of him with someone else and im still dirty and haggard. i think of him explaining our breakup to some other girl and her telling her i was abusive and immature. i get back with him and apologize. ill never love again. be with anyone, more like. 

ive been thinking i may not be asexual but traumatized after all and that my mother always mentioned i was always very sexual and maybe it is true but i wanted to rip those things out of me. its a power i always felt would bend me backwards towards evil and instead of helping my earth a guide so it could have a chance at growing up he ran over it with his car. ill never have it again. God makes fun of me. he gives me this dirt so i am never sinless then breaks apart any kind of satisfaction or happiness or anything i can get from it. i was drunk, first time ever no less. and i have drank so much since then. never blackout, i am forgetful. i came home and drank hoping id forget by tomorrow, it didnt work, i wanted to die, i cried all week and he did it again. i cried in front of him. i have pictures, i looked like i had died five minutes ago.

i wanted a happy relationship and a happy marriage. ill never have sex, i want to remain chaste all my life. i dont want to be defiled more than i was and am. freud said everyone was a hypocrite when it came to sex. marilyn manson said youll never cover up what you did in a dress. i wanted true love for the first time in my life. i still felt some way that i was, in some way, i was still would resign. that night i knew it was over, years will go by and im stuck in that room God decided to forsake me in trying to not make eye contact, picking up trinkets, smashing them against a wall, placing them back in. i wanted to die a million times over, i did, not in any way i liked at all. ive never been done. why could this one thing not be normal. just this one thing. ill never feel fine again, i will always be missing something.

i hate him but i need him. i need him but i dont want to. he is sweet and patient but after what he did he should be. he deserves hell and so do i. he mutilated me, he should feed me spoonful by spoonful. fulfill my dreams and desires to distract me from the bleeding. crawl on his knees until theyre gone to my whim. lacking of honor, graceless bastard. i wish my dad would shoot him. i wish he shot me. i wish we all died. he deserves better than me, but by God i did not deserve that. i do not deserve this. we deserve each other now but im stronger yet my cross is shackled to the ground. 

im an unreliable narrator, or a liar, or doomed. two of those three. i cant know, my mind is off and im living to wait, waiting to die, bracing for the next of my loves to be plucked from me.

we all watched eraserhead and i am so embarrassed by every single one of my stupid actions and my stupid face and my stupid clothes. ill never be ok again.

i fancy myself a seductress when im down but im more of a waste of a woman who will do anything for cash or a hit, stripped from all humanity, landed outside with my skirt up and half tweaking outside a gas station shop.

new year

already self sabotaged myself like twice big time but it doesnt matter. i have enough money to make it through the month but no significant treats- i was really hoping i could get a new pen for school. i do need a new laptop and i feel dirty and gross. i cant feel pure again even if i died and came back into a new body. ill always feel bad. i feel disgusting.

classes start tomorrow and ive taken up a bit of mixology to feel less bad about my alcohol consumption. 

im so ashamed of myself, i feel sometimes i should go to confession just in order to feel less bad. i dont know if itll work. ill know it wont. it never has, i always felt so bad. i went looking for a release and nothing ever helped. i cut myself, starved, burned, did the things that made me feel bad again, ruined myself, picked at myself, nothing worked. i want to scrub off everything. i want to go back so badly. i cant stand myself, i seek refuge in music and it aids me greatly. i wish it wasnt like this but it is.