The blues have got a hold on me and they wont let go. I would really like more than anything to crawl into bed next to a sweet boy and for everything to be okay. Unfortunately that only seems to perpetuate my loneliness of recent. My inability to actually open up and admit what’s wrong, even to those closest to me, is getting in the way of being able to function normally in everyday life.
I can feel myself slipping back into an anxiety related slump. I woke up with a finger tracing along my upper back and a question; what are you all about? I thought about this whilst I awoke and I realised that I’m not about anything. There is no purpose to my existence. I feel like I’m holding back but I don’t know what from. There are just a lot of things on my mind I’m too scared to say out loud. It’s like I’m too scared to be myself right now. Maybe I’m just trying to pretend like I’m not hurting because I want to seem better than that. I am better than that. I will end up destroying everything including myself if I continue on like this, but I don’t have time to hurt right now. I think I’m going to back to sleep, everything is easier that way.
It’s 1.39am and I cannot seem to fall asleep I’m typing incredibly slowly as to not wake up a sleepy drunken boy Whom has spread himself out across my double bed Limbs everywhere The wind outside is making the trees rustle And there are tiny insects chirping
Do you feel like you connect with some people on a spiritual level? Who in the world do you think understands you the most? Is there anyone who you trust above all others? Do you have manic moments where you crave a creative outlet? Are you sorry for party rockin?
Do you feel like you connect with some people on a spiritual level? Generally the only times in which I feel a spiritual connection with anyone is when I go on drug induced journeys with them. I feel like you have to have a certain level of comfort and trust with someone to enter into a new dimension? realm? with them. The most divine connections I have ever had have been with Sam Kubany whilst we took mescaline and 2-cb. On both occasions all I wanted was for us to merge into an entity and see the world through one set of eyes and to me that felt spiritual. As not a highly religious person that is my interpretation.
Who in the world do you think understands you the most? Definitely not myself. I have this strange idea that I will never be understood, not even slightly as I am ever-changing (isn’t everyone?) Also I have no idea behind the reasons of a lot of my actions so it’s difficult to gage any form of understanding. Sometimes I feel like Gemma understands a lot about me, but in saying that it’s on a different level which I don’t think she or I really can comprehend.
Is there anyone who you trust above all others? I’m perhaps too trustful of others but I don’t think I have anyone whom I trust above all others. I believe that humans are generally of a kind nature and if I feel the need to tell someone something, I hope that they will not use the information against me. I tend to distrust the ones who are closest to me because there’s more to lose.
Do you have manic moments where you crave a creative outlet? Most weeks yes. My outlet usually comes in a written form where I create disjointed stories which create themselves as they are written. My quest for a creative outlet has not ended there and in my most manic of states who knows what I’m going to do really. Everything in my mind rearranges and I don’t feel like myself, well I don’t feel like the ‘myself’ whom is constantly presented to the public, instead I feel quick-thinking, concise and bug-eyed. It’s like being bug-eyed just lets more into me. The weirdest times are when I leave my house on a manic rampage. Usually I feel a weird connection to the moon and the beauty of the world becomes too overwhelming and I just kind of feel like being a part of nature.
Succulents are used in moon spells related to love and abundance, gardenia attracts lovers and poppies are used in moon spells relating to fertility, prosperity and prophetic dreams. Strange late night reading from a book I picked up in the library.
I feel a lot better now. My father and I went for sushi and this lady accidentally mistook me for her daughter in her peripherals and we had a giggle about it but then it turned out her daughter was this girl in my year who is also called Jade and that kind of freaked me out. So then I ate my sushi and we said goodbye to my new found family and went food shopping. Dad bought me chocolate milk and new black tights so now I don’t have to wear two pairs of tights so that the holes cancel each other out. Then I went to throw some hummus in the trolley whilst playing food basketball (always a bad idea) and it splattered all over the dairy isle and I giggled ‘til I thought I was going to die (or urinate a little bit) and then people had to clean it up. Then we played cops and robbers and I hid behind people and dad tried to run me over with the trolley and being a robber I stole some chocolate covered raspberries and ate them. Eventually I put my hand gun to his head and made him surrender the trolley and now I’m home. This has been another irrelevant and pointless life update.
Things in my room I hold dear to me: Laptop, clothes, Alex’s paintings, notebooks, records, candles, bed, keyboard.
I think I could throw everything else out and live with just those things. Although that being said I collect an awful lot of memories which inhabit themselves in useless little objects which I grow attached to.
Examples of this -
• A piece of quartz which I picked up when Alex and I went for a walk up in the hills as we sat and things felt strange and distant
• Terrible abstract portraits I drew on tiny post-it notes whilst on some strange dissociative late last year
• Plasticine, a tape measure and a 1st place ribbon from Barrio
• Numerous shells from three separate occasions 1. Going to the beach with Alex, Maddy and DZ and going for a long walk and sorting out my emotional engagements with Alex 2. A shell picked up from Pt Elliot after a certain event occurring on a beach 3. And one that I picked up after waking up on the beach with friends at Pt Willunga • Receipts from strange things I’ve bought
• Wine bottles from weird nights starting from the bottle I was drinking the first night I went to the hills house in August 2010
• Dead flowers from ex-lovers and strange existential crises’
• Postcards from different countries
• Artist statements from exhibitions I’ve been to
• Terrible drawings friends have scrawled on pieces of paper lying about my room
• Strangely brilliant drawings Alex has scrawled on pieces of paper lying about my room
There’s probably a lot more, like secret shrines hidden away devoted to past lovers including foreign money, love letters, drawings, photographs and quotes.
Things that have not been fun today • Almost choking to death on my own mucus • Not being able to breath through my nose • Having to use my inhaler every minute • Weird body temperature changes • Headaches • Waking up with a really dry throat • Not being able to concentrate • Having to do schoolwork all day because regardless of how crap I feel, I will fail my assignments if I don’t hand up some form of a draft for two essays tomorrow/tonight