Welcome!: I'm going to have a shitty year from the look of it.

Friday 8 February 2008

I'm going to have a shitty year from the look of it.

Quite frankly, I'm tired of being pissed. Yesterday was the shittiest of all the shit and the amount of curse words I could manage in a single entry would put Ozzy Ozbourne to shame. I have never used so many 'cunts' in a sentence. Very satisfying, and it means exactly as it sounds, just conveys your message across exactly straight to the core! Maybe I'm going to post it just for the pleasure of it. But for now, I'm going to try to be more of a civilised human being. Besides, some of you probably haven't even had your lunch. When I'm considerate, I am considerate.

So, if some of you are wondering what the hell I'm doing in the internet when I'm supposed to be back home celebrating chinese new year, then I'm going to say this once and for all:

I missed my fucking flight!

Yep. I did. Nope, this is not candid camera, this is not Home Alone, this is not some dramatic sappy soap about a girl who's very sick and is going to die in 24 hours and a guy who's rushing over to see her and to declare his undying love to her before it's all too late and also gives her the last chance of happiness before her body started to decay and became maggots' dinner, but then the guy was late to make it to the gate because beforehand he was over at the jewellery store to buy her a diamond ring which he's going to use to propose, and he couldn't get in the flight although he has already begged with all his might to the officials and explained his reason in the name of 'love', so he was crying in the airport, clutching the expensive ring (and formulating the amount of debt he had) and she died eventually alone in the hospital, feeling like she has never actually been loved in her entire existence.

Okay, I'm rambling. The fact is, I missed my flight so my money's gone, the ticket's gone, I couldn't afford to buy another ticket, and I'm fucking pissed.

I think I deserve another at least 20 more 'fuck' in this entry alone after that traumatic experience. But again, I don't really wanna go into that details for now, you will just have to wait for the entire story in another entry where I could finally fully unleash this demon inside.

My sister and I both wanted to go home but I think it's just logical if only one of us did because buying another two tickets would be damn expensive and I would have to resort to grass for my next meal. So she did. I think she deserved to be home more than I did, and I'm completely fine, I mean, this was hardly ideal scenario but we did what we could.

I was grumpy, tired, angry, and ugly by the time I made it back to the train. The least thing I needed was some fucking dickhead harrassing me! But of course, that's exactly what happened. Not going to elaborate that now either, but suffice to say, his dick was involved. 'Nuff said. I lost my appetite already.

But I'm fine, I'm fine. I was totally freaked out but luckily nothing worse happened. Sometimes I just can't believe these people existed. Seriously, they don't bring any good to the world, so they better just commit suicide right now and get it over with. Shit retarded brain, fucking worthless piece of shit.

Okay. Just wanna give a bit of update. If there's one more person asking 'how's your chinese new year?' I would seriously lose it.

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Quotes

There's a hundred million different ways of writing, and it takes you a long time to sort through that stuff. And I think it takes anyone a long time to find a voice.

You must learn to take the good with the bad, the happy with the sad, love what you’ve got and remember what you had. Learn to forgive, but never forget, learn from your mistakes but never regret. People change and things go wrong, but you just have to remember that life goes on.

The day before I’m supposed to be meeting Caroline for a drink, I develop all the textbook symptoms of a crush: nervous stomach, long periods spent daydreaming, an inability to remember what she looks like. I can bring back the dress and the boots, and I can see her bangs, but her face is a blank.

I don't know, I think that if I could just accept the fact that my life is supposed to be difficult. You know, that's what to be expected, then I might not get so pissed-off about it and I'll just be glad when something nice happens.

I can see now I never really committed to Laura. I always had one foot out the door, and that prevented me from doing a lot of things, like thinking about my future and... I guess it made more sense to commit to nothing, keep my options open. And that's suicide. By tiny, tiny increments.

There's a big fucking world out there. It's messy, and it's chaotic, and it's never, never ever the thing you'd expect. It is ok to be scared, but you cannot allow your fears to turn you into an asshole, not when it comes to the people that love you, the people that need you.

Maybe what I'm saying is, is the world might be evolving the way a person evolves. Right? Like, I mean, me for example. Am I getting worse? Am I improving? I don't know. When I was younger, I was healthier, but I was, uh, whacked with insecurity, you know? Now I'm older and my problems are deeper, but I'm more equipped to handle them.

I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough.

Later that day I got to thinking about relationships. There are those that open you up to something new and exotic, those that are old and familiar, those that bring up lots of questions, those that bring you somewhere unexpected, those that bring you far from where you started, and those that bring you back. But the most exciting, challenging and significant relationship of all is the one you have with yourself. And if you can find someone to love the you you love, well, that's just fabulous.

A woman needs to be held, even, and science has shown this, if its with someone she doesn't care about. Protective hormones are released, and the amount of hormones released depends on the degree to which she is held. The first and best is the complete surround. He wraps you in both arms, whispers how beautiful you are. Second best is the 'arm around.' He is next to you but with one arm around you. Third is he's just next to you on his elbow, but he rests his hand on your stomach and looks at you. Fourth is you snuggling up to him with your head on his chest, while he looks away into space. But when the first best happens, you feel completely, wonderfully like a woman.

So, so what, so fuck off, go home, leave you alone? I'll tell you something Paul, there isn't anything that I've wanted for eighteen years, cause I was a kid eighteen years ago. And if I did still want the same things I'd think I'd gone wrong somewhere, because actually I don't want to marry David Cassidy, I don't want bigger tits, I don't want to do better on my marks. I've stopped worrying about that kind of thing and maybe you should try.

Well maybe there's a big bit of you that's gone missing somewhere, maybe everyone should want something they've always wanted.

Why is it that adults aren't supposed to go mad about anything? You gotta keep a lid on it. And if you don't then people are apparently entitled to say what they like. "You haven't grown up. You're a moron. Your conversation is trivial and boorish. You can't express your emotional needs. You can't relate to your children." And you die, lonely and miserable. But you know, what the hell, every cloud has a silver lining.

I just woke up one morning and didn't feel the same way. Where did it go? It was like there had been a lot of food on a plate in front of us, and we ate it all really quickly, and then there was nothing left. Maybe that's how couples stay together: they're not greedy. They know that what they have in front of them has to last a long time, so they kind of pick at it. I hope it's not like that, though. I hope that when people are happy together, it feels as though someone keeps piling seconds and thirds on their plates.

That is what I have learned: Sex is destructive. Love is nothing to be fooled with. I learned that I was dangerous, not to be trusted. I wondered if my parents were right, with all of their stiff lovelessness. Maybe they knew better. My parents don't dole out love for the deserving or the undeserving. I was learning that love could cost me.

You could say all you liked about reason and logic and common sense and imagination, but when the chips were down, the one skill you needed was the ability to think about absolutely nothing whatsoever.

There is a comfort in never making an effort, but it's a lonely comfort. What keeps you going is the knowledge that you're only playing with only four cards showing. But when you see other people succeeding with their mediocre hands, you have to make a decision. If you turn over that final card you're certain of victory, but it also means you have nothing in reserve.

I’d gone through life believing in the strength and competence of others; never in my own. Now, dazzled, I discovered that my capacities were real. It was like finding a fortune in the lining of an old coat.

Maybe we all live life at too high a pitch, those of us who absorb emotional things all day, and as mere consequence we can never feel merely content: we have to be unhappy, or ecstatically, head-over-heels happy, and those states are difficult to achieve within a stable, solid relationship.