Blog-writing position, candle-light and throat-ache

The best thing you can do to make someone trust you is admit all the unknowns before you state the facts!

Because the ways in which facts can be used are shaped by those variables.

When this semester is over, I will go to somewhere no one knows for a week and just Chilaaaaaxx completely. Maybe I'll have a week of no talking and no meat. I'll have a mute, vegetarian week!

My throat wouldn't let go.

I met someone today, someone I haven't seen in such a long time. I told him about the most unfortunate incident that happened yesterday. He knew who I am. He told me who I am.
So it was soothing, and comfortable.
And I munched on so many different delicious things.

Misunderstood.

Lately I have been feeling...
Neglected
Misunderstood
Lost
Undecided
Unattended
Exhausted and overused

It led me to feel...
Something small inside me is dying with which
My desire to live became weaker.

I have made a few interesting observations...

My stomach turns when I scream, and usually also a cold comes with it the next day and a soar throat- smoking can make it worse. I smoked 3 cigarettes yesterday.

No one is a smoker because no one is born a smoker. I was never a smoker, I just chose to smoke one cigarette after the other, and sometimes I forgot I had a choice is smoking it!

Living itself is much harder than wanting to die but dying itself is harder than wanting to live.

Living
Dying
Wanting to live
Wanting to die.

If I don't stop depending on people I will want to die more often, just as often as they will push me to want to live.

If you can't cry, no one will believe that you are in pain.
If you can't beg, no one will believe that you really need it.
If you can't be cute, no one will believe that you can be too shy to ask.

If you're comfortable, you will be mistaken for confident.

If we can sum all of those up into an equation, we will realize that one that fits the profile of those inabilities is most dysfunctional. I never thought it was that clear. Or maybe it wasn't clear and that's why it took time for me to understand!!

I wish there could be this state where someone could hibernate...not be alive and not be dead -- as if asleep for as long as they time their heads!


Here's to Nina Simone and the Melancholy:-

Misunderstood (Nina Simone's version)

Baby you understand me now
If sometimes you see I'm mad
Doncha know that no one alive can always be an angel?
When everything goes wrong you see some bad

Well I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood

Ya know sometimes baby I'm so carefree
With a joy thats hard to hide
Then sometimes it seems again that all I have is worry
And then you burn to see my other side

But I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood

If I seem edgy
I want you to know
I never meant to take it out on you
Life has its problems
And I get more than my share
But thats me one thing I never mean to do

Cos I love you
Oh baby
I'm just human
Don't you know I have faults like anyone?

Sometimes I find myself alone regretting
Some little fooling thing
Some simple thing that I've done

I'm just a soul whose intentions are good
Oh lord, please don't let me be misunderstood

I try so hard
So don't let me be misunderstood

You know that you're going crazy when

there's only ONE voice inside your head.

I killed the spider!

I have nails now, as in girly long curved nails. They're shiny and I like them a lot.
I will get rid of them soon before i become too obsessed with them.

Ella found her yellow basket and it's a dream come true.

A friend of mine found her yellow basket cake and it's not as smooth as anyone would think it would be.

I didn't want to kill the spider, honestly. He was just getting too close to my desk, my sacred desk on which all thoughts, dreams and nightmares grow.

I want this vacation to never end, I wanna go on vacation in the Lala island where the sea never ends.
or, the ocean.

I will listen to Idir now.

Stuck

I am stuck.
I am stuck in such a way that I can only believe there are solutions and the more I try to more it hurts.
And the more violently I try to more violently it will hurt.

And so,
on the news they will say:
A woman who lived 18 years with a contact lens in her left eye.
Incredible
Amazing
Unbelievable.

She though she got the contact out 18 years ago and now they discover, the contact was still in her eye all this time.

And the story will sell.

My contact lens might be stuck in my eye. I havent found the left one in 2 weeks. I was too sleepy to see where it is, in the morning I didnt find it in the little slidey blox it sleeps in.

So, solution doesn't help with that one.


I remember the first time I sat with a psychologist in the same room. I was 6 or 7.
She asked me about my parents' divorce. I told her it was really fine, that it was better than them having to fight all the time. I told her that I see my dad as often as I see my mom. I told her that they insult each other from the different apartment doors because my dad lives in the apartment upstairs that used to belong to his mother who has passed away some time earlier.

I told her that it was really fine and that I didn't need help.
My mother was the one who told me to go to her. My mother though I needed help since she was too busy crying and feeling depressed. I was messed up, I used to lie a lot.

So the psychologist told me that my mom is immoral and that women should keep their husbands and do everything they can not to let them stray.
She told me that it was all my mom's fault.

I might have believed her. I thought it was my mom's fault because mom always seemed evil and dad always seemed like the nicer one. Still, even at the time, I knew she didnt have the right to say that.

I wanted to slap her.
She looked stupid and she wore really horrible looking glasses.
I lied to my mom and told her that she insulted her, me, my dad and the whole family.
And then I lied to the psychologist and told her that my father (since my mom is whore, my father must be a saint) told me never to speak to her again.

And every teacher in the school knew the next day.
The kid of a broken family.
The poor kid.
The messed up kid.

It was fun being scary, though.

Until this day I will continue to hate psychologists because this woman thought she was so smart but she was so impotent in many different, but all funny now, ways.

I am stuck because sometimes I fail to get her out of my head. I want the solution just to prove I can get that invisible contact out!