Tag Archive: problems

You seemed like a good friend, at first – we seemed to have a lot in common – and continued seeming that way for a while (maybe a year or two, possibly three). However, there came a time when I realised we couldn’t be very good friends; and it’s bothered me. Of course, you haven’t actually noticed how much it has bothered me – you never said anything – and so I’ve been left a lot of time to ponder upon it.
You have a colourful personality. You can be kind, pleasant and strong, but you can also be arrogant, cocky and proud. Let’s face it, it’s just a Yin and Yang battle, like in all people. Never bothered me before.
Over the time that I’ve known you, you’ve become more arrogant, more cocky, more proud and, let’s face it, really quite selfish and self centred.
As you strongly made your views known, I began to wonder if we did have very much in common. Turns out, we don’t have much in common. Ah well. No worries. Lots of people are friends with people they don’t have much in common with; so long as they can find a common ground, it’s fine. We had more than one common ground, I think, so our friendship could have survived – at least high school, anyway. Then on, we probably would have gone our seperate ways anyway… But one could only hope for such a modest friendship. Acquaintances would have been fine with me if you hadn’t moved so far away from what I thought you were.
We had some good times, don’t get me wrong, fun times. You were my best friend. We laughed and hung out together. Friend stuff. It was good. I enjoyed… Most of it.
I never perceived you to be the type of person to talk about people behind their backs (excluding the occasional moan to your best friend; but everyone does that). When Freckles told me that someone had told him, I’d been “slagging [him] off”, I thought he was lying because I’ve never “slagged [him] off” behind his back. Anything I say behind his back, I’ll say to his face. I’ve talked about him, but not usually in an extremely harsh way, behind his back because everybody needs to talk about their problems. I didn’t talk very often because I don’t often get the chance to tell people how I feel – they just don’t care. You didn’t seem to care much, either, so I eventually stopped telling you things as much…
Eventually, I realised that somebody had probably lied to him and told him I’d been saying bad things about him. It didn’t seem like it’d be you but that was the only (highly unlikely) plausible solution I’d come up with. Especially seeing as though said person had told him I’d changed and I’d become a bitch bad person.
I don’t try to be a bad person. In fact, in case you didn’t notice while you were self-absorbed, I try my best to be a good person. Like the creature in Frankenstein, I have a benevolent nature – but that can change if you don’t treat me right.
The last thing that really pushed me away from you is how you view my relationships. You never really supported me with my relationships; you seemed to just grin and bear it.
Alright, with Kane, you were happy for me.
With Riley… You told me how much of a bad choice I was making; how he probably wasn’t who he said he was, how he was probably cheating on me, etc, etc. You, along with all of my other “friends”, turned against me. Whether or not he was a bad person was a different matter; you all went the wrong way about telling me. Did you know: all that treatment caused the beginning of my self harming? You had all convinced me that I wasn’t good enough for the word because I was gullable and naive and dated somebody online. But, months later, now everybody is doing the exact same thing. Well done, guys… Thanks.
With Eli… I don’t remember, really. I think you were happy I’d got the guy that I’d crushed on for eight years – but it seemed fake; very fake. After he dumped me you consoled me because it was the social protocol. At least, I think you consoled me; I don’t remember.
With Adrian… You immediately disapproved because of the age gap and the fact that I met him online; you said he could be anyone of any age. But, I’d already met him in real life once; but you continued on about the age gap and stuff, etc, etc. Eventually, you got to know him and seem to be better friends with him than with me – even after all those horrible things you said about him. Y’know… I’m not even sure I was ever properly dating him. Maybe that’s why you ended up liking him so much.
And now, with my darling Shaan-kun… Despite the fact that I’d already proven once that age doesn’t really matter, you continue to spurn the fact that I happen to enjoy the company of older men; they’re more mature than the idiots our own age. Besides, last I heard, you were after someone older than you anyway.
Actually, didn’t you like someone older first? Didn’t you say you prefer older guys? Didn’t you fancy your cousin, who is older than you? Not even the better looking one, either. Your foster cousin is actually the better looking one; everybody agrees.
It never bothered me when you said you liked your older cousin – or even your new best friend’s ex, who happens to be older than you. My only query with that is that he’s your best friend’s ex and it might only be a mere infatuation. You and your best friend are very, very alike, too, so he might be put off by that. But I digress.
You view my relationship with Shaan-kun as baby-sitting. Fucking baby-sitting! D’you know how much I’ve wanted to punch you in the face for saying that? I don’t think you realise how much it bothered me because you’re too fucking self-centered. Why did you say it? Are you jealous? Jealous that he has me or jealous that I have him? Or are/were you jealous that I’m in a relationship? A good relationship. Or maybe you’re jealous that I love him, but not you. Well, I don’t have any love towards you – romantic or otherwise – because of the way you’ve treated me; it’s your own fault.
I hope you can iron out the defects so you don’t lose any more friends. I also hope that you can see which friends are so indecent that they use you and they’re fake, etc. I was never an indecent or fake friend.
Because of you, I no longer keep friends – just acquaintances. I can’t trust many people. I certainly can’t trust you.



The air is thick and heavy –
dense. Very dense.
Wading through it,
we’re trying to find
what we lost in the
mist, but we “can’t
see.” Not anymore.

Air so thick a butter knife
wouldn’t cut through.
We can’t move now;
I can’t breathe. It
fills my lungs to the
very brim, threatening
to overflow. But, the
question is: where
will it go? Where
will it overflow to?
It can’t. It will get
denser – is that a
word? It will cram
itself into the tiny
organs that are
reserved inside the
body for a certain
guest – air. This air
did not make any
reservations so
there is really
“nowhere to
accommodate” it
all. What then?

The lungs – my lungs –
will burst due to
the pressure and
all the stress and
strain and force
they had to endure
throughout this
endeavour. Little
blue balloons burst.
If we can trust what
they say, we can
assume I won’t “make it”
and they’ll break it
to you smoothly, I
hope. No worries.

Maybe the air will course
through the rest
of my body, thus
rupturing each
organ in its path;
eventually it will
reach my brain
and cause more
damage than is
already there.
Won’t that be a
“kick in the teeth”?

My brain will be compressed
“beyond repair.”
What will be left
of me once the
air has finished
the suffocation
process, which it
naturally exceeds at?


Despite the lack of device, I still hear music. Music that tries to drown out the voice(s) in my head. I’m not trying to grab anybody’s attention with this, I’m not being attention-seeking. I don’t let most of my “friends” know the URL for my blog. If anybody has given it out, especially to someone at school or someone I loathe, I will make their life a living hell. So, feel free to pass around my blog’s URL – at your own risk.
Presently, I feel like I’m suffocating. My chest is tight and I can’t breathe properly. I keep coughing, too. Shallow coughs. I can only assume that the coughing is a result of dust. It also doesn’t help that my nose is blocked because of this stupid cold.
The voices I’m hearing right now keep telling me I’m sociopathic. I can see why. I mean, my social skills fucking suck. But if having social skills means you can’t be honest and open about how you feel about things then I don’t want social skills.
Social skills are the lid to my bottle. The bottle is filling up and the lid has a hole in it. Pretty damn soon, it’ll overflow past that hole and the emotional liquid inside will drown my social skills and probably myself, too. We’ll see.
I need to talk about my problems but I just don’t feel like it. I do feel like consuming multiple tubs of ice cream. I don’t deny being a comfort eater.
My eczema is flaring up and my hands are all red. I’ve probably had an allergic reaction to the cleaning fluid at work today; however, that’s the least of my problems, it seems.
I won’t talk about my worst problem because the emotional fluid has already entered the bottle. Besides, it’d be rude because it’s a private issue to be resolved. Hopefully, sometime soon.
If there is no contact between my boyfriend and I for three days or more, I won’t assume that we’ve unofficially split up. That would also be considered to be rude, I guess. I’d contact him but I’m not sure what to say or how he’d react… Though I do admit that I was in the wrong and I also apologise. I doubt it makes much difference though… A little girl like me can’t make a difference in this world.

Yes, I’m despairing. It’s raining underneath my protective umbrella.
After catching this fucking cold, I’ve had one and a half days off of school; missed two parties; missed two rehearsal (one of which was trés important); sat three exams that I’ve probably failed; and had the desire to sleep for an elongated period of time. I’ve also been forced to quit the school play parce que je ne serai pas prêt pour cela and I’ll probably be ill on the night(s).
So. All those hours of preperation for the school play will have been pour rien and, frankly, a waste. I have this week and next week to finish my Product Design coursework; I probably won’t be in school for the majority of this week. I’ve probably missed the introduction to the AS English Language and Literature coursework. I’ve missed two hours of art and probably will miss more so I’ll be even more behind. I’ll likely fail my French exam and coursework. And I’ll be in a terribly pessimiste mood for une longue période now.
I feel sorry for you lot having to deal with me. Though “you lot” probably refers to a maximum of five people, if that, who I actually talk about my problems with. Thinking about it, it’s probably just the one person because I don’t feel like I can talk to people about my problems anymore; et c’est surtout de leur faute.

I know I can’t just immediately expect things to improve but, with some aspects of my life, I’m beginning to think they never will. My friends will continue to keep me out of their lives, thus causing me, in some cases, to keep them out of mine; it seems as though my father will always act as though he can control me without regard for how I feel about the subject; Freckles will never apologise for anything he’s done against me because it’s never his fault; and there’s more but I don’t want to go into detail. I don’t feel like it.
Today, I got home from rehearsal and fell asleep on my sister’s bed. I felt better after that nap but I’m still a little cold and tired. I don’t feel like eating either but it probably won’t be long before I’m called downstairs for dinner.
I should be revising for my Biology exam tomorrow but I’m too lazy. I just want to sleep…

I have a song I wrote stuck in my head. The problem with that is: I only wrote a few lines and they are circling around and around my head continuously. I figure I really need to write the rest of that song, along with others that I haven’t finished yet. Maybe, by the end of year, I’ll have written three or four more songs and the majority still won’t have a melody.
On another note, I think I have a pretty high emotional debt towards myself. I owe myself either a large tub of ice cream or the grounds to fucking murder someone. Haha.

In Other Mildly Unrelated News

Yesterday, I managed to break my DS. Again. This time, however, it was because I threw it with a lot of force at my sisters bed. So much force that it bounced off of the bed and hit the wall on the other side…
The reason I threw it was so that I didn’t punch my darling sister in the face. I don’t even remember why I was angry with her or why I was so agitated yesterday, and still was a little this morning after hours yesterday evening of void emptiness. Now I’m back to void emptiness.
My father shouted at me yesterday for being in such a mood. He threatened to hit me if I acted that way again. He never once stopped to ask why I was angry or why I was upset or anything…
Seems he forgot about his threat though because he claimed that I was acting in the same way this morning and he didn’t hit me. He just shouted some more. Again, he didn’t ask what was up.
He tends not to ask what’s up. I got out of the habit of telling him a long time ago simply because he never asked.
Now, the fragmented relationship I have with him causes me a lot of inner turmoil and I can’t talk to him about it. Every time I try to talk to him about it, he shouts and blames it all on me. Maybe it is my fault…

I think it was Thursday or something… But I had an arguement with Oppa. The question comes to mind: how do we have so much to argue about?
Well, during that ten months (if it was even ten months) we both knew each other so well that we assumed there was absolutely nothing else we could discover about each other. And we were happy with that. Little did we know, in the not so distant future, things would change. And they have changed now.
Whether he admits to it or not, Oppa has changed. I also discovered that he had been hiding things from me. He’d also deceived me a little.
After we broke up, he started being “more honest” with me. Immediately, you can see something wrong there because honesty should be a huge part of any relationship. He started telling me the things I did that had pissed him off or annoyed him or otherwise. These were in the very early stages of the break-up when he was still frail and pathetic so all I could do was sit there, accept it and apologise. How humiliating that was. I wanted so badly to tell him all the things that had pushed me away from him in the relationship – all the things that had annoyed me or pissed me off. But I didn’t. I kept my mouth shut.
I was glad he was being honest with me though. I was happy he was able to get it all off of his chest even though his fragile emotional state prevented me from making any drastic changes in my life because they’d affect him too greatly and he’d throw himself infront of a fucking train. Sometimes he pissed me off so much that I wished he would. But, thankfully, it never happened.
Eventually, he kinda picked himself up from this state of emotional turmoil. Kinda. He then found out about me and Shaan-kun and moaned at me about that. Fair enough he’d be upset that I found a new lover. Thing is, I was the one who broke it off so I was over him pretty quickly. The only reason I stuck around was to make sure he didn’t fucking kill himself. I still cared about him from a friend’s point of view, after all, but that doesn’t mean to say that it didn’t become a total drag or stress me out talking to him. Ask Shaan-kun. During that time, I was stressed out more by Oppa than I was by school work. I put a lot of school work off so I could concentrate on cheering Oppa up and the work piled up. I felt it was my duty to keep him happy though, seeing as though I was the one who made him sad.
Eventually, Oppa had to come to terms with my relationship with Shaan-kun. I told Oppa not to text me while I was with Shaan-kun and that I would text him good night. Oppa was still a little possessive over me at that point, even though he didn’t have me. Over the course of those two days, Oppa tried to hold conversations with me over text. I couldn’t be mean and ignore him. This bugged Shaan-kun though so I eventually told Oppa to leave me alone. Possessive people get jealous very easily, hence the reason Oppa developed a major jealousy complex.
Not long after this, I’m pretty sure we had another arguement in which some things were said. I remember this arguement moved to Twitter and somehow, our sex lives were brought into it. Such an odd, pathetic arguement. Oppa had put me in such a bad mood with it that I became spiteful. Real spiteful. This, however, backfired on me as Adrian decided it was a great idea to tell his friends all about what I’d said. Now I know exactly who he told. My ex boyfriend told me, which I thanked him for because I had a right to know. That same day, I phoned Oppa so I could talk to him about it. Realising what he’d done, he got overemotional and cried. I put the phone down and he phoned me back after he’d finished crying. Hearing him cry again made me give in because I am of a benevolent nature. It reminded me of when I’d tried to break up with him and he, instead of accepting it, phoned me up and sang to me. Then broke down into tears. Regrettably, I gave him another chance that time. Similarly, I decided to hear him out instead of shouting at him. I did do a fair share of telling him exactly how I felt about what he’d done because he had no right to do it. We had a long, meaningful conversation, which ended on a positive note. Once again, we had decided to forget about the past and move on. Easier said than done. After that, we were talking quite pleasantly about things in general.
That day, my best friend also complained to me about our arguing on Twitter. I can do what I want with my Twitter account. Granted, it was kinda my fault it moved to Twitter, but it was better than Facebook. I’d have rather argued using Twitter than anything else.
Not long after, we probably had another arguement that I don’t remember. I think we hung out with some friends in town a few times, too. It was all okay though. I then began to get close to Beckie and I remember talking to her a lot about Oppa because the arguements and constant whining were getting to me. She remembered meeting him once and added him on Facebook and MSN and they talked. A lot. I got worried that Oppa was gonna do something stupid like, oh I don’t know, fall in love with her? He promised he wouldn’t and they were just friends. Wasn’t long before that promise was broken (remember the “blah” thing, Beckie? That’s what that was about).
This upset me a little because I knew he wasn’t really over me yet, whether he cared to admit it or not, and I didn’t want him to ask her out based on a minor infatuation and discover that she was just going to be a rebound girlfriend. I eventually caved in, as per usual, and told him that he may aswell date her. So now they’re dating. Behind her mother’s back. Her mother thinks he’s eighteen. If you want my opinion, relationships don’t last all that long if you lie to your parents. She will find out eventually and, if she doesn’t find out from you, Beckie, you’ll be in even more trouble and may well be banned from ever seeing him again. Is that a risk you’re willing to take?
The day he asked her out, we were both sleeping at her house for two nights. I did enjoy myself a little. But only while we were playing Singstar or Just Dance… But even those novelties faded out and they were back to canoodling. I felt like a total third wheel while they engaged in such things.
Oppa and I ended up having another arguement and I spent a lot of my time on the stairs. If I’m honest, I don’t remember some of that weekend. I do remember “question time” and truth or dare. That night ended on a positive note, I guess. I spent most of the next day, however, asleep. I’m not even sure I remember that day. On the Sunday, we went out and spent some time in the park in the cold. I wasn’t in the best of moods, I’ll admit. I was overthinking, as usual. I was thinking about all the times I have to give up arguing with Oppa because he’s too narrow minded to even consider the possibility that he might be wrong.
He always dismisses every point I try to make and it seriously pisses me off annoys me. He also misinterprets and misrepresents the majority of things.
Last week, I slept at Beckie’s again so Oppa could sleep there too. We played no Singstar or Just Dance this time. I took a book so I could read while they canoodled… I also remember we watched Help! Which is a good film that The Beatles wrote and starred in. It ain’t half confusing, mind. Beckie also ripped out a ton of pictures of Paul McCartney from her various books about The Beatles and gave them to me… I have around thirty pictures… Not including any I have on my phone.
The only problem with that weekend was that Beckie and Oppa were talking in hushed tones to begin with and then started texting each other instead. They kept me up with it. I mean, I could understand it if they both had unlimited texts and I was asleep or almost asleep. But only Beckie has unlimited texts and I was wide awake and totally open to conversation. So why were they texting? I eventually got over it and forgot about it. That is, until the next day when Oppa went to get changed and almost left his phone in the room.
I’d picked up his phone before he left because I was going to pull a prank on him with the use of his Facebook. A childish prank is all. But no… Beckie told him I had his phone and he had a hissy fit, complaining that I was going to look at his messages. This made me highly suspicious, as you can imagine, and it hurt to think he didn’t trust me not to look at his messages. I don’t do that sort of thing – I respect other people’s privacy. I was absolutely insulted. It has now been bugging me ever since. What were they texting about? The only reasonable explanations would be they were either talking about me or they were talking about sex. I’m at a loss as to which one but it seems unlikely that they were talking about sex. Either way, they were hiding something from me. What happened to being honest and open, Oppa-kun? I do wonder.
The second week in a row, I went home quite miserable. But I cheered up eventually after talking on the phone with Shaan-kun and playing Tekken 6 for the first time (great game).
The interesting thing about that week, mind, is that Oppa and I argued on the way home. I remember it was because I suggested we didn’t talk because when we do talk, we just seem to argue. I thought this was a pretty logical move but I got my head bitten off about it. Eventually, I shouted at Oppa to shut up and walked off before it continued. By the way he moaned at me, I assumed my suggestion wasn’t a welcome one.
Both Oppa and Beckie followed me home. Beckie caught up and gave me a hug and I asked her to tell Oppa that I was sorry for snapping at him. And I was sorry. Sincerely.
If I’m honest, I just wanted to apologise so that Oppa didn’t feel so bad about it. So if I were to… Cease to exist… He wouldn’t feel like it was his fault.
I know, I know, suicide is never the answer. But feeling suicidal for the second week in a row, my mind decided that that was pretty much it for me. No point in continuing my megre existence. That was why I phoned Shaan-kun… By the end of the phone call, I’d cheered up a bit. I still tried and failed at drowning myself in the bath for the umpteenth time, but I wasn’t as miserable.
Tuesday, I texted Oppa to ask how he was doing. He replied. The conversation was strained and, after a while, he stopped replying. It was a “better luck next time” type scenario. So, while I was off sick on Thursday, I decided to talk to him on MSN.
This was all going fine up until the point that Oppa decided to ask: “What happened to us not talking?” This confused me. Hadn’t he rejected that idea? It also hurt a little – didn’t he want to talk to me at all? By this point, I felt just as rejected as I did during my stay at Beckie’s house.
So I explained to him that, by the way he’d rejected my suggestion, I didn’t think that was a welcome suggestion at all. He responded by complaining that it wasn’t a suggestion, it was a statement. This bitchiness pissed me off a little. Then it evolved into a full blown arguement…
Eventually, I decided that he clearly wasn’t listening to what I was saying so there was no point in trying and I told him I was going. I didn’t block him, I didn’t delete him. I signed out. Nothing wrong with that, right? I was going to go back online when I’d calmed down.
After a bit, I did calm down. Then I checked Facebook. Boom. He posted about it on Facebook, bearing in mind that he’d promised he’d keep our arguements away from Facebook. It was something about he was giving up trying and blah blah. The comment I made was something along the lines of “Yeah, me too.” Which wasn’t meant to agitate him. The intention was that he would see the error of his ways, too, and the fact that he doesn’t listen to what I say.
But, Oppa being Oppa, he saw it as agitation and rose to the bait. He moaned at me on Facebook, too. This arguement ended with me apologising for fucking existing and him deleting me as a friend. I’ve always wondered why I seem to do a lot of apologising when what I’m apologising for isn’t entirely my fault. Do I get apologies? Occasionally. But not really when I actually need an apology.
So the arguement is half way through and neither party is presented with any real closer.

Well done, Oppa-kun. Omedetou.

On second thoughts, I don’t want to leave this blog post on an entirely negative note. On the plus side, Oppa has been nice to me and hugged me and stuff when I was down. He also claims to have dropped everything to look after me when I had an episode while he was there. He’s a nice, kinda guy at heart. Which is why I don’t understand why we argue so much…

Good Morning, World… Now Leave Me Alone

As you can see, I didn’t wake up in the best of moods today. I set an alarm on my DS to wake me up at 6am… I woke up at 6am, turned my DS off and contemplated getting up. I fell asleep. Then I woke up at 7:36am… So, with 24 minutes to get up and get ready… I got up… In a bad mood… I hate waking up late.
Despite the bad mood and 24 minutes to get up and get ready, I managed to get out of the house… Almost… On time. Though I found that my milk had been used up last night and nobody told me and my phone hadn’t been put on charge at all last night. Great. I have no hopes of listening to music in school today. I have to listen to people instead. Fuck my life.
So after all this, I began walking to school. I engaged in my usual routine of checking blogs, email and Facebook…
Facebook has been rather depressing for me lately because it only reinforces the notion that people don’t seem to tell me anything anymore. So do some blogs I read. It stands to reason that email couldn’t do that but it pisses me off because it seems that only half my emails get through.
I have normal lessons today, as opposed to the five hour art mock exam yesterday and the five hour drama mock exam tomorrow. It’s Children In Need day tomorrow. Non-uniform, too.
Yesterday also happened to be mum’s birthday. She was smiling a lot. It was great to see her like that. Grandad turned up too. He turned up just in time for cake (cakey senses?). The cake just happened to be an Aero Bubbles cake. And I just happen to have a fondness for Aero. Mix it with wine, and I’m set for the night. No, I’m not an alcoholic.
Luckily, it looks like I won’t be late for school.

Alright, Can We Get Some Carrots In Here?

The power went out today so I sat downstairs in the candlelight and checked Facebook using my mobile internet. Low and behold, that butch bitch who bugged me the other day was arguing on my photo with one of my best friends.
Now, this particular friend is amazing. I thank her for saying all the things I never had the courage to say because, frankly, I’m afriad of conflict. Naturally. Once it gets going, I’m fine. I just don’t like starting it.
It ended up that her girlfriend got involved. If she needs her girlfriend to come save her then she’s pathetic. I never asked my friends to get involved. She probably requested her girlfriend save her from the wrath of the fucking truth. Did I bring my boyfriend into the arguement when she insulted me? I did not. I dealt with it myself because I’m a mature person.
So after spouting profanities, she started using idiotic sarcasm. How mature, huh?
So, in the end, it became another same old story. We’ll call this one “The Butch Who Cried Bitch.”