last night i got drunk. not drunk enough. i felt sick. gross. i still feel sick. i had shots. 

and then i got hungry coz i hadn’t eaten anything all day. so we went to this pizza place run by this big mama italian woman. it was good but after about 3 bites i was stuffed and couldn’t eat and wanted to barf everywhere. 

meh. 

i woke up and read all the posts i’ve written. I’m considering exposing myself and showing it people. why am i so scared? coz they’ll get hurt. coz they’ll think I’m fucking insane and want to run far far away from me? or coz i’m scared that they’ll suddenly know me – not bad – but bad. coz i’m not “me” with people. not really. i mean i have little things i’ll do and say which are ‘me’ but they don’t know this side of me. the side i like to call the real me.
i hide it. all the time. always. its not even a conscious decision most of the time. i just do it. i just behave in a way that is supposedly ‘normal’ and ‘acceptable’. it’d be weird if they read this but then i continued to just be the other way in front of them. it’d be like.. I’m suddenly exposed so i have to suddenly act a different way. it’d be awkward and scary and weird and i feel really sick. 

all i really want to do is just go with my impulses. yesterday we walked past this ice-cream machine – the one where you pull the lever down and ice-cream comes out.
i wanted to pull it. so bad. i really wanted to pull it. and even maybe stick my mouth under it. i really really really really did.  

but i didn’t. 

 

that basically sums up my life. 

i wanted to do something. but i didn’t. probably because someone told me no. 

and now. i don’t want to do anything. 

i still wanna do film. i don’t want to find out which school or where i want to do it. i just want to do it. 

mehhhhhhhhhhhh

 

i feel like listening to die die my darling. 

not because i want anyone to die. i just want my thoughts to die. a little bit. the bad ones. at least. the ones that i hate but are also so dear to me. 

anyway. I’m enjoying myself here. the sun and the pool and the beach. and the chilledness and my bed and the food (when I’m eating) and my own space! i can be in my room typing or changing or singing or doing my hair and no one interrupts me – sometimes but not that much. i can sit here and cry and no one has to know or care. and once i’m done think ‘ok ok..im ok.. you’re ok..it’s fine..chill now..ok..its ok’. and i breath in a few times. and everything is fine again. i continue. no one asks questions or has to look at me like ‘god. you were crying 10 mins ago and now you’re fine and laughing and singing and dancing around’. 

i hate people knowing I’m sad. hate it. 

i went to this crazy woman once in the middle east.

she sits you down in front of her on the floor. she’s fat and rolls around like one of those bobo dolls. she inhales really deep through her mouth and closes her eyes. and then she changes. she becomes you. 
she became me. she was still. she looked like she had a deep sadness in her but was strong and composed on the outside.
she said “you’re brain is like a computer. you’re very smart. you can do anything you want. very smart. like a computer. your brain works so fast. it’s so complex. it’s very organised”

i stayed sitting there, silent.

she paused and then continued “when you’re sad, you hide and cry alone. you don’t tell anyone”
my mum and sisters were there too.
my face went red. and i felt like bursting into tears. I smiled and half nodded. a sort of ‘yeah but lets move on, lets not discuss this”
i wanted to know what else she was going to say but my mother butted in, “who is she going to marry!?”
“mmmmmeeee mmmmiiii maaaa mmmmmmmsss mmmmm miiiihhhhh mkkkkkkhhhh kkkhhhh!!’

my mum shouted out different names. non of them really struck her. 
then the woman said “the thin one not the fat one” 

and that was it.

she died not long after. 

 

I’ve been to a few other ‘fortune tellers’ – more for curiosity of what they’ll say rather than for guidance and believing it. 

two things i’ve always been told – ‘you take on others shit too much’ (i reworded it obviously) and ‘you’re gonna have two lovers and be stuck deciding between them’ 

great. more fucking hard decisions -i always worry about that. that i’ll get stuck deciding between two guys. how gross and horrible and it makes me want to vomit everywhere. 

other things i’ve been told:

“you’re made for the stage” – yeah. I’m sure you tell all the young girls that. however – i would love to be on stage. musicals. opera singing. making movies. would LOVE it. don’t do it – no confidence, discouraged by others, i have this retarded shyness but i can perf, don’t know how to find out about auditions and can’t be bothered to find out because i probably won’t go. want to do movies. continuously discouraged.

“you’re very evolved” – well. i mean. i am a homo sapien. so yes. i do have wisdom teeth missing and i still have baby teeth with no adult ones underneath – i guess that’s some kind of evolved shit maybe? depends on how you want to view evolution and all that. whether you take a Lamarckian stance or whether you believe purely in the logic of chance.

“someone is going to be in hospital” – it’s been said a few times. but really. how much of a generic statement is that? i used to worry that they meant my dad. but now i worry that they meant me. 

they always tell me about my ‘near future’ and then they all seem to say ‘something is going to happen. it’s going to be a very confusing time, it’s a bit fuzzy. but after that everything will work out and you’ll marry someone your parents will like’

 

sometimes i feel thats the way my life is going.

my mum is telling me not to swim while there is no one in the house. ‘don’t dive. sometimes when swimmers dive and there is no one around they die’

 

her paranoia and scared-of-everything attitude has affected my life so bad. i hate it. 

sometimes i wish i had cooler parents. who were wild and taught me important and relevant stuff. who could give me a positive attitude. who i could go to and tell everything to. who would be fine with me having boyfriends and living with them. who wouldn’t continually criticise and nag and moan and whine.

 i wish that they just fucking wore protection.

i was the mistake child. ha. my only role in life is making everyone else happy. 

I HATE IT. i really do. coz I’m so emotionless towards it. i don’t give a shit. i’m just like ‘well. i can’t be happy so may as well do something for you coz you actually care’ 

inside I’m so ‘meh’ – so emotionless about it. on the outside i do it with a smile and go ‘of course i’ll do that for you! whatever you want! I’m happy to’
just some rehearsed lines. just some shit i’m SUPPOSED to say.

maybe i should just be an actress. i don’t want to be. i don’t want to be famous. i don’t want people to know who i am. 

oh maybe i should have said ‘actor’ coz apparently ‘actress’ is ‘politically incorrect’ now. I FUCKING HATE THAT TERM. FUCK POLITCAL CORRECTNESS. 

seriously. ‘you can’t say mental disorder anymore. it’s mental health issue’. i’d rather had a disorder than an ‘issue’. 

fucking hell. 

HAS THE WHOLE WORLD GONE CRAZY!?

I often feel like walter from the big lebowski. i often feel like just pulling out a gun and screaming at everyone. 

i won’t though. i’ll just be pathetic retard here in the corner. wishing, waiting, wondering.

nothing relieves this feeling. drugs have stopped working and anyway i hate them. i don’t want to take drugs. drinking if fun for about half an hour then i feel sick and get a headache and want to go home to bed. 

smoking. is gross. the taste makes me want to throw up. 

meditation – what a gay fucking shit thing. I tried it several times. fell asleep. 

exercise and yoga and all that – yeah, if i could get the fucking energy and motivation to do it. 

everyones gone out.

IM HOME ALONE

OMG!!!!!!!

got to topless sunbathe and swim while no one is here. 

bye