00:00 (12:00 AM)
My love ♥
Just a minute ago, the time indicator on your phone said “2018”, the way it did all year, and now, it says “2019”!!! And that for another year!!! Apparently that is a reason to pollute the environment with fireworks and get veryyyy intoxicated. I get the getting intoxicated part. I hope you’re having fun, wherever you’re at.
I’m here, all by myself. War veterans and I are silently going crazy on the inside. I hope no one blows up the house I’m in 🙂 .
Especially on a day like this, I am so not in the mood for sentimental shit.
But I do have “resolutions”: becoming fully honest towards everyone, even when my words might lead to heartache for the other person [I kept from doing it, because I know how it feels, so very well], and not being surrounded by people who won’t change the world with me, anymore. That means that I either will have to commit suicide right now that I’m alone here, or I need to be saved by a fucking miracle. I hate the resolutions part of New Year’s, because it’s more of a formality, than it really is something that is used for its usefulness.
This is the first time in my entire fucking existence, that I’m not with my parents on this reocurring twelve o’clock moment in life, on the first day of a new year, and I do not have to hear their wishes for me, for the year. I’m quite glad about that, because it always includes what I don’t want myself.
Wat een teringherrie buiten 🙁 . The only thing stopping me from comitting suicide right now, is the thought of my family friends coming back home and finding my lifeless body. I did take the rope with me, I tried to choke myself with, when I was in that mental institution. It’s the rope from my grandfather’s old bathrobe, he wore very often, before he passed away. I’ve been given it, to use it as my own bathrobe.
I mentioned sending people after twelve messages. I’m not in the mood for sentimental shit. My sentiment has died completely already. I can’t even try. And I don’t want to hear any semi-encouraging or whatever words. No one even fucking knows me. It’s frustrating to hear people talk as if they do.
Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely love that I don’t celebrate this the way I usually do.
Do you know what I can’t stand? When people put so much effort in attempting to prove me wrong.
I do fucking hate that I’m still not with you, and you just keep staring at this, while I’m so fucking approachable. I love you 🙁 . We shouldn’t feel alone 🙁 .
It is better to feel alone all alone, than to feel all alone, surrounded by people. People like me are hard to find. It must be less than 1% of the world’s population. How can we cuddle? 🙁 It will be the best cuddle we’ve ever felt 🙁 .
Oohmygaad I’m so hungryyy… What to eat? 🙁
00:48 (12:48 AM)
It was either this, or yesterday’s bami, and I like variation, so:
I don’t know 🙁 .
I wish I wasn’t broke, sad and without true love. The script has reached its maximum with me now. I can’t even try anymore. I’m out of fake smiles and other façade related shit. People always say that I should be myself around them, but they wouldn’t know what to do, if I’d do that, for sure. I’m not like them at all. That’s why.
00:57 (12:57 AM)
Another reason why I don’t want to commit suicide, is because then the truth about me is still unclear, and people who I’ve spent a lot of time with might give sentimental speeches about me, in which they express their care. I then can’t barge into the ceremony and say: “That’s a lie! Where the fuck were you? You knew what I was going through and you didn’t give a fuck.”
Haha I still haven’t even finished that bottle. I’m a slow drinker 🙂 .
In case you thought that I was bullshitting you, I’m not:
But if you’re saying that I’m doing this for your attention: believe me, I really want to die, and either my spirit will haunt you down for making that heartless statement, or you’ll regret it in some other way.
I demand some fucking serious Graeyniss in my life, because without that, my life has no purpose. The hope for that Volta, which includes living with Graeynissis only, is the only reason why I keep hoping to see another day. But I’m so fucking tired of hoping to see you. It makes me feel worthless, because I keep staying alone. What the fuck are you doing?
I’m going to play some Nintendo and go to sleep.
Good night, person who influences my heart rate
[Of course I need to wait until the “war zone” sound is over, until I can go to sleep.]
– xxx –
13:25 (01:25 PM)
How long are we going to keep letting me do this?
The “My Cuddle, I’m giving you my exact location, this is how I feel, this is how causality is playing out today. All I want is to see you. It has not happened again, today.”
I still really feel like dying, the way I’ve been feeling since age 10, but if you say that too loud, you might end up locked into the closed vicinity of a mental institution, and from there those feelings could get even worse.
In the institution, they take away from you anything you could use to harm yourself. I had to hand in my razor and perfume bottle and stuff, when I entered. They didn’t think of taking the rope of my bathrobe. Those suicidal thoughts have never faded, but it’s useless talking about them with those people there. You won’t snitch me, right?
I’m doing the usual being in bed with hunger pains. Dying from severe malnutrition, accompanied by my malfunctioning heart, and breathing problems caused by the biochemical dysfunction of my spinal column, were what I’ve been silently hoping for, since that moment I chose to shun my parents, after they ridiculed me for my hope for a better future.
At that time, staying silent really seemed like the right thing to do, when they kept raising their voices and it was clear to me that we were never going to reach a consensus. I didn’t know that that was going to make me lose touch with my dear friend and only client, and get me stuck in the psychiatric system. If I knew that that could have happened, I would have spoken my mind instead of said nothing, but I’m certain that those words would have gotten me a black eye. If I wouldn’t have lost touch with my B, then, we would have done an international project together by now.
But if it weren’t for the traumatic shit I’ve been living through for two years straight – because before the psychiatry shit, there was other shit – I wouldn’t have met this meow Vicje. Not that I’ve been able to spend a lot of time with him either, but he, now, too, has been on my mind so much.
Is knowing that someone wants to die and then continuously making hurtful and heartless statements, indirect murder?
The sky looks very beautiful today.
I haven’t deleted my ASKfm account, because I do still enjoy answering some of the questions on there.
14:47 (02:47 PM)
I’m still being a bed petje. I read some of my old posts. That cigarette on my birthday was gebietst from my aunt. I smoked 75% of it. I hope that was my last cigarette ever. I do not have smoking cravings, it was more because I went to my room first, because I wanted to be alone, but it felt so socially weird to be in my room by myself, on a house party, so smoking a cigarette became the alternative.
In (Dutch) mental institutions, closed vicinities have a smoking area. Haha in the hospital, there’s an area for smoking indoors. I was so bored there, that I’ve smoked my lungs out. The worst part of it, is having to ask a nurse to light it, because patients aren’t allowed to carry things that are dangerous. There’s nothing more humiliating than people assuming that you’re so incompetent that they expect you to flame the entire hospital, if they were to allow you to carry around a lighter.
I speak of mental institutions, because my memories of being there, keep causing flashbacks. I’m in my bed, at my family friends in Amsterdam. Look:
Meow 🙁 . If I decide to not keep thinking of creative ways to end my dreadful physical existence, I should, in my posts, too, reflect on the previous day. The problem is that doing that without writing it down, already causes such intense heartache and palpitations.
But if I wouldn’t have hung out with the grandchildren of the family friends I’m staying at, I would have been able to give into my suicidal tendencies more. I worry about their future even more than I worry about my own. The way the generation in power educates future generations is just…. Hopeless… I don’t know how to describe it more elaborately. I wish I had a good example to follow.
Playing games with the intention of continuing to play, because there’s no better alternative to fill in time with, causes crazy tention, when you only play to win.
Ohh I made this picture when I finished classic adventure mode with Kirby:I’m hoping to unlock zero suit Samus soon. She’s my favorite character. Not only because I’ve mastered her controls the best of all characters in the game. (I used to play this on the Nintendo Wii, too.) She’s also fucking sexy 😻. Looking at her move gives me low key extra breathing problems haha. I’m such a random catje 😋.
I seriously wonder what causes my natural almost deadly response to attraction. Around my B and/or Vicje I have the same breathing problems. Around my “Fisci”, too 🙂 . Even though it also scares me, because I get so much less air that it feels like I can faint at any time (when I look at zero suit Samus, things don’t get that extreme), I love it, too. Because I know that part of the fear comes from the worry about if the feeling of love is mutual or not, and that fear, including the fear of heartache, must then lead to breathing problems, aside from my spinal column being a cause as well.
It sucks that my only reason to leave this bed is food. And I don’t know what to talk about, downstairs, now that I didn’t celebrate New Year’s with them and I’m still alive. Just randomly in their house. Awkwardly staring at Jamiro’s arms whenever he’s around. (I’ve been using your soap, face soap and face scrub, by the way… And that joke about pulling plugs when parents get older was so fucking hilarious, I could still laugh about it right now.)
Meoow for the sake of honesty, I feel like just laying here, until the hunger makes me faint, but then the thought of the pain my body will be in when I wake up, and then still just somehow having to go downstairs to make myself something to eat… I need an investor, so that I can make the “KFC skin” scallops I’ve been dreaming of for months.
When it comes to love and business aspirations with the same Graeynissis… I really believe that it goes hand-in-hand. But only with me, you can do something like that, I think. Since I don’t do quarrels, and my heart beats for you and my endeavors. (I guess making it plural covers it better.)
I act as if I’m not deeply in love, because a lot of people don’t believe love and business go hand-in-hand. Only when it’s fake love, it doesn’t, I believe.
Those who receive The Head Cuddle, are already fully informed with the real state of my plans. I find typing it all out quite a waste of energy, because who the fuck reads this and why would I put so much effort in attempting to make it clear to others, of whom it’s not sure whether they would participate in the final state of my projects.
Υαρομ δε φυκ δου υε νικσ? 🙁 Λατεν υε ονσε πλανην φορ υερβετηριν οπ εεν εκολογισ υειλιγερε πλεκ υοορτζετην. Δατ ζεγ ικ εγτ αλ δε ήηλη τηδ. Ηαηα τηδ κλινκτ εγτ γραπιγ ιν δη ήηδ Κυδδλε.
Ι δου νοτ κνο υαι Ι σαιδ τήτ ιν Δυτσ – μηβι βικυζ Ι στιλλ φιλ ρι(ε)σπονδιβηλ φορ συμ ριεσον – βυτ υου κην υνδηρστηνδ αλλ μαι νισσ σο μεου :Δ (ΗΑΗΑΗΑ). ♥
I’m talking about my physical realm – future’s origin¿ – of course. I know you’re doing a lot already.
16:25 (04:25 PM)
The bed pet update:
18:00 (06:00 PM)
My reason for leaving the bed is now to have dinner at the mother of one of the family friends I’m staying at, because it’s her birthday today.
No further thoughts shared on that. I was playing NBA 2K19. I must say that I miss the practice modes from the previous NBA games.
Here’s my player. He’s named Sexier BedCat, because first I made a player named Sexy BedCat, but I gave him the position of point guard, because that’s the position I should play when I play with men. But I’m more used to playing power forward, because that’s what I play when I play with women.
18:44 (06:44 PM)
I’m still at this.
19:03 (07:03 PM)
I’m chilling heree. I see him running towards me now. Be right backk xxx
20:03 (08:03 PM)
I did not expect to be at a party today. The way I feel on the inside does not suit a party setting at all. I don’t understand the being invited part. I’m not really able to socialize. I wish I could, but I really have nothing to talk about.
I should be talking about things and making jokes the way everyone else does, right. What is there to say, seriously? I’m digging into my brain for things to say. Here, there’s nothing. All I can think of is that I intended to be dead right now, and for some reason I’m still here. I do not fucking know why.
When it comes to injustice and the things addressed in 180 Days of Fangs and Lil Fangs for President (still unfinished), I hope I’ve been able to sketch the powerlessness in my situation clearly.
What should I do now? I’m staying in Amsterdam, with the friends of my parents, since the moment I came back from Berlin. Most of my valuable belongings are there. It is my intention to move out from here and not go back to my parents, because my father kicks me out every time I do something he doesn’t like, and he has such different intentions for me, compared to what I want for myself. It doesn’t even fucking matter what he wants for me, because I am the one who has to live through that.
Going from Amsterdam to Den Haag every day is going to make me collapse within a week for sure. I don’t even know why I haven’t collapsed yet. Or why I haven’t burst out into tears yet. Why is my façade such extremely thick layer?