Cheese

It's starting to make more sense to me now.

I ate half a block of Cranberry infused Wensleydale.
I have never felt more numb, although more certain of the way in which my life is right now.
I became unchained of my emotions. I no longer care, for very much. Moreover, I am still bound by financial, material and societal pressures to conform and remain still.

I am craving adventure, it was what I longed for all along.
I can here Stephen Hawking's voice in my head. I understand what Wallace and Gromit was really about, kind of. I mean, most of the time, people would assume, by my actions, my words, my attitude, that I am constantly on drugs, yet aren't we all? In a way, there IS no escape, from the water, the food we eat, the air we breathe. I lost the plot, it began with birth.

I cannot remember much before I was 4 years old. My first memories were those of early childhood, at a pre-school, I was audacious, confident, over-friendly, and bounteous. 

I never fathomed this before. Perhaps it is because I do not trust anyone, do not care about anyone, and merely like anyone enough, to have these feelings reciprocated, because surely they do not exist. Everything is created in my mind. Every thing I perceive, is a tall tale. A wound up toy, I'm ready to destroy.

I have been clouded by the smoke, prisoned by the brick walls, and not high enough to touch the sky. 

Whoever is still reading these posts on my blog has some real patience, and loyalty.

No emotion is the final one - Jeanette Winterson

Oh if I ever I could be such a success. One part of me wants to pursue the teaching career, the other half is kicking and screaming, "Run, Run...RUN" I can't deal with this emotional blackmail to myself. What gives? This writing, a steady string of thoughts I'll never share with any one.

Why are you waiting, what is holding you back? There is nothing left for me here.
I went to view an apartment today. It was big. Totally suited me. A little out of my price bracket. However.

I'll probably look back on this post eventually and want to kill myself again.
How pathetic, how awful, I must be as a person, if I just want to ditch every thing and every one I ever loved, needed, wanted, had connection to. No?

My life has meant nothing. Up to this day, I am still as anonymous as the person reading this. What a depressing reality we live in. It's like they say about karma, or you get what you give, blah blah blah. So it's really all my own doing. I didn't mean to, originally, I was just like any one else. Then I hit puberty and I was allowed to access higher levels of conciousness. I could relate to others more, be more aware of the atrocities in our world, and be more, dare I say, empathetic. 

What gives? Something's gotta give anyway. I have to get over myself I think. It's either fraud against my heart, or simply being egotistical and a nuisance. 

I have tea lights in my room. A Maximo Park poster. A plaque that says "Love Is Timeless" and another saying "Drink Coffee, Do Stupid Things Faster With More Energy". Another thingy on my wall that has my name on it that my Mum brought me back from her trip to Paris the other year.  Along with fanciful bedding, a new super sturdy pillow, some butterfly lamps and an oil burner, again, sticking with the butterfly theme. I have bought a new soft dusty pink rug. I have my Dad's old sound system I swiftly took ownership of after he left and a brand new Television, courteousy of my Mum's fella.  My room smells like clean laundry, for the sweatshop made clothing tapers over the new airer, thanks to The Range for your home bargains.

My wardrobe and chest of drawers swells with clothes of all my different personas. Like a unique disguise for every day of my life. I go to bed to die again. I wake up with the world in my hands. F me. That's another one. Sex. You can't avoid talking about it. That's the point isn't it? Scientifically speaking. We are here to pro-create. Suss out the best of the best in the genetic pool, hope for the best, shit out a load of sprogs and troop on like normal. Sound familiar? I don't have kids. Yet. They got me! The consumerism has engulfed me.

I bought more deodorant today and body spray. I opted for So...In Love from Wilko's as they were a quid on offer. There's my shoe rack, 7 glorious pairs. 4 black, 1 white, 1 red, 1 cream stiletto. I'm sure I do not need nearly even half the junk I have hoarded around with me for the last decade. I have reduced it a lot in the last 2, due to moving about 5 times, and my parents moving houses and everyone was moving, and I moved like the tides. In and out, up and back, swirling around, until my head popped off...

I can't contain my excitement, I can't wait 5 more years, or 10 more years. I can't settle, I am incapable of love, and I don't deserve shit. I am one of the richest/poorest people in the world. I have so much to do, and so little time. I feel. I FEEL. Feelings, ha. My neighbour today told me that the emotional and physical pain sensors are at the same part of the brain. Explains a lot that does. Personally I believe I can endure physical pain better, but perhaps that's part of being a woman. Women are designed to give birth, for F's sake. I'd rather feel physical pain, but I'm saying that as someone who has never walked that path so please pardon me for saying so. I have psychosis, it's not my fault. There goes the displacement again, oh internet I fall at your mercy!

This is so boring. I'm going away soon, I have my tickets booked. I don't know if I'll come back, but I kinda have to. To finish college and all, that would probably be the more sensible, preferred, wiser decision. I'm running out of ideas. I never needed any one, after all. 

I'm sorry.

Imagination is greater than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world - Albert Einstein