Sunday, 17 January 2010

Almost two weeks since my last post :O

I am in no way suggesting that you use drugs as a means of weight loss.
Wait, what was that bullshit?
I use illegal drugs to achieve what I want, so why should I be a hypocrite and attempt to dissuade you?

I've been taking ecstasy for the past two months now, and while I haven't exactly lost any weight, I haven't been gaining....but that's not what I want. I don't want a fucking plateau...just because I ain't gainin' don't mean I'm doin' a good job.
It may be the weed...I roll and then don't feel hungry. But then I smoke and get the munchies...but then the tabs take over and I begin to hallucinate...and although food is fucking delicious when you're tripping, I prefer not to make a fool out of myself by eating while my brain is all kinds of mental.

The X makes me feel...well, ecstatic. But everytime I roll there is that underlying ED shit, which always surfaces and basically ruins my fun. Every happy thought is over-powered by "Oh my gosh, haha! I'm so repulsive and fat, haha!" Being both ecstatic and morose at the same time is not fun. It's sickening and irritating and I despise it.

I've scratched the letters F.A.T. onto my belly. I get to seem them everytime I change my clothes. It's wonderful.

I learned how to do the running man, fuck yeah! It's nice to go to a club and actually be able to dance, and dance well.
Note to self: Never go to another 30-year-old DJ's birthday bash. The only people there are 28+ sleazy creeps who stand with their arms crossed and don't dance.

I watched Control the other day. It's a biopic about Ian Curtis, lead singer of Joy Division. I strongly suggest you watch it, if you fancy films like that.
I won't ruin anything, but the ending was awful. By awful I don't mean the movie itself, but the events which took place.
Some of you may recall, back in August, when I wrote the post about my mum's friend who had shot himself in our yard. Michael. I have cried for him almost everyday since his death.
We've placed photos of him all around the house, and just a passing glance is enough to choke me up.
Anyway. The ending of Control brought up some deeply hidden emotion inside me.
As I watched it, a wail rose up and exploded out of my mouth. I'm not sure if I'm explaining this very well, but just imagine a scene in a movie where something tragic happens and someone goes mental and weeps and wails and completely falls apart.
That's what happened to me.
I sat on the couch and wept for Michael. This was no ordinary crying. This was me getting my limbs severed and being hit with a flaming, spiked mace. I was blinded by grief and tears, and I was gasping for air. I fell asleep after what seemed like hours, and when I woke up my face was puffy and there were dry rivulets of white all over. It felt as though I'd been crushed and then rebuilt, and then crushed again and again and again.

Thank God my house is in a small forest.

That was a few days ago. I'm not better, I never will become better. I'm not going to move on, think about only his happy moments. It's impossible. I was born to dwell on the morose, the macabre, the loneliness. The image of his last moments becomes more gruesome everytime I imagine it. I blame myself for always acting stand-offish and never initiating a conversation with him.
I never took a photo with him, never gave him a hug, never gave him a gift. I displaced myself from his presence, and all because I thought he was awkward and strange (he was. But I embrace eccentricity...what the fuck).
While my actions (or lack thereof) didn't cause him to do what he did, I can't help but feel as though I had something to do with it. Maybe he didn't realize it. But my vibe of indifference/get-away-from-me-weirdo was most definitely NOT constructive.
He needed love and friendship, and I gave nothing. Not one fucking thing.

I don't imagine myself ever committing suicide (except for me slowly killing myself with my ED), but if I could switch places with Michael, I would. An infinite amount of times.

Why is it that all the evil ones survive, and all the good ones die?

blah blah blah, I'm sick of talking about myself right now. I want to know about YOU, how YOU have been doing? Of course, I could just read your blogs...I mean that is what they're here for. However, I'm either too lazy or unmotivated at the moment.
So jes' leamme a lil' comment right quick so's I can see how yer doin', please!


That was me in November...I haven't had the courage to take any photos of myself since then. And yes, my eyes are out of wack.


Insane Jayne said...

I am in no way suggesting that you use drugs as a means of weight loss.. but speed, coke or ice gets the job done nicely...;)
Omg no try and get off the weed, I used to be the biggest stoner and that was when I was my heaviest..
ever try and throw up while your high?? bad messy messy.

Hey sorry about your friend, in your house? it must be hard not being able to escape from it..
hang in there..
glad your back, I love reading your word vomit x

Insane Jayne said...

NOoooo. lol can you write a shortened version?? I'll seriously die if I dont get a comment well maybe not but the same thing happened to a friend today, she couldnt access my blog & some of my posts are taking like a day to is this normal? ;)

absurdNes said...

Maybe it's the lucky few - but weed has not been evil to me or my friends. During the summer it was smoke- smoke- watch StarWars and mucnh out on something. . . but that's the ONLY time food would go into the system. Weed is not bad, it's simply a matter of how you use it and ALWAYS about WHAT you eat - for all you out there that do eat /still eating but unfortunately have nothing in your home but crap I suggest
or buy the book. I'm not spamming or soliciting I swear, but this book is amazing, it's not a diet book that gives you false hope -it's simply a gathering of alternatives.
SkinnyLove, you are not an evil person, you're a lifeline to all us out there who follow your blog- glad you're back.
Cheers and good luck to you all <3