Story Time

Sigh... 

I just saw a book called Balloon Animals are Awesome and Welcome to Lobster Cove. I like Balloon animals and hate Lobsters so obviously i should read the former. Also, the dude on the front cover looks like Ben Alfick and that really turns me off. 

I just want to fall in love with a book series again. Its been awhile, and yes maybe it is my fault for reading terrible books that apparently haven’t been spell checked (kinda like these posts) and cost £1. 

I’m hungry. 

I don’t wanna read a book about fucking cattle goodreads, c’mon. 

I’m thinking about making pancakes with avocado and humus inside for breakfast. Usually i have it on toast but not today. 

Oh, been playing the Witcher. Fall damage has killed me more than anything. Its between fall damage and Jenny of the woods. Fucking bitch boss. 

Thought that book said st nandos. It didn’t. Should of. 

This book sounds really interesting! But the covers ugly so moving on. 

Just read this book right, was so freaking (been swearing too much) weird! So it was just a pretty average contemporary romance then out of FUCKING nowhere at 75% it turns into a paranormal romance. Whaaaaat? There was zero signs of this. Its also kinda crap, ignoring the whole random paranormal thing. 

On a random note, because this post has been so coherent from the start, i think i don’t like chocolate. Its too sweet, too much. 

Sometimes people have to force the happy, it just doesn’t come naturally. 

It’s like a Viagra pill, ya know. 

*Googles Shadowhunters TV show* 

I can’t really remember the last time i felt young, I’m 24 but i feel like I’m 42 sometimes and still living at home without a good job. Then I’m like “Okay how can you make your life better?” Education right? But that’s scary. That’s putting yourself up for failure because you can fail so easily.

And then what do you do. 

My mind usually goes straight to the negative, i have to make myself think of the positive, but that is so much work. But then the work is worth it right? 

I love getting tattoos. Tattoos are like beautiful scars you know, i feel like i’ve talked about this before. Anyway, instead of hurting yourself and only getting something negative out of it a tattoo, is like hurting yourself but getting something good out of it, something beautiful and happy. 

Honestly, the only time i can say i am genuinely happy is when I’m looking at my tattoos. Every other time it feels fake and forced because i’m just waiting for it to all turn to shit. 

I feel kinda lost. Like yeah, im currently sitting on my bed in the dark but am i really in my room? 

What if im actually in like...Canada. 

Fucking Canada. 

So i’m over weight, and it makes me self concision but not because of how i look. Its because how i feel. 

I should be healthy, why aren't i healthy? Well i added too much salt to my veggies so i shouldn't put anymore salt on my veggies. 

Did i eat too much today? I eat three meals a day but maybe i should cut it down to two. Hunger sucks but i can deal with it if i get healthier right? 

I put milk in my coffee, should i stop drinking milk? Is coffee on its own unhealthy? Should i just stick to tea? 

I’m going to eat out with friends but i dont want to order anything, what if it has really unhealthy stuff in it but i dont know? 

I had avocado on toast for breakfast but should i cut out the toast? 

I’m starting to get a complex. I worry about what i eat, how much i eat, if i should eat. A bit of chocolate wont hurt if you eat a healthy diet but what if my diet isn’t healthy enough. 

Being healthy is important and i feel like I’m failing hard and that makes me sad and stressed. 

I’m not an ugly person. Sometimes yeah i look at myself and point out every single flaw, but at the end of the day i don’t value myself on how i look. Maybe other people do but that’s on them but not me. 

I’m happy with how i look i just need to be healthy. I’m not healthy. So i need to get health, but i need to do it in a healthy way. Not eating enough wont make me healthy, worrying over every single thing won’t make me happy. 

I have been thinking about going back to school for awhile now to try and become a counselor. I like helping people and talking to people, my friend when she was going through some issues told me i was compassionate without being condescending, which was a really nice compliment. 

I think i understand people, i get them. 

My current problem is i have no idea how i am going about this. Like, what course should i take? Psychology would be good but i don’t think i am smart enough for that. Then mental health nurse, could i do that? Would i need to learn some other nurse stuff? 

I am so confused, a tiny bit lost and a whole lot overwhelmed. 

But, i think its something i want to do. I like people, i like knowing about people and how they tick. Lets skip the small talk tell me about your crazy parents lol. 

Why are they called Wisdom teeth they suuuck. Being wise shouldn't suck this much. 

I used to cut myself, i regret it but it helped. Grounded me, focused me and it calmed me. It wasn't healthy for obvious reasons but it would make me feel better after. 

There are some days i miss it, especially the last week, but it Isn’t worth it. I got a tattoo on my arm for a reason, to cover my scars and remind me to stay strong. Cutting might have helped but it was an addiction.

I want to be happy, i have been for a long time. One bad incident and a bad week won’t take me back to a dark place where i felt no escape. 

Glorious, over the top, insane, beautiful, funny. An amazing friend. 

I just got a text from an awesome friend who is so awkwardly glorious that i can’t help but smile. 

Oh my god this wine is so nice by the way. No, im not drunk. Tipsy though? mmm yes. 

I read such a good book yesterday about a guy who isn’t gay but loves a man. 

We haven’t had hot water for awhile now and its sucked. There is a dude in my house right now fixing...something? And i’m waiting for him to leave so i can have a shower and wash my hair. I need to go into town and get my eyebrows threaded but i’m feeling lazy. I could barely feel the energy to go get myself some food, which was left over chips and coffee. 

Healthy i know. 

I've been doing this “portion control” and fuck man it seriously sucks. I am hungry like 75% of the time. I am starting to think i’d rather just stay fat and happy. 

I am planing a new tattoo and so excited! 

And now i’m leaving. Well i mean, tumblr. No no thats a lie. 

I’m leaving this blog post. 

But i will stay in my bed, on my laptop. 

Broken bits of derby and glass stick and cut onto my bare feet, leaving a trail of blood mixed with dirt behind me. I walk till my toes curl around the edge of the old factory building. Empty now after so many years, but not torn down, left to decay and crumble.  

The world is laid out to me, set alight by the burning sunset bleeding into the grey and black city buildings and roads. The warm spring wind dances around my body kissing my skin gently, blowing my long hair across my face to shield me from a city that has burnt away every last inch of my soul, until my body is filled with old ash, glittered with specks of blood and diamond tears. 

I spreed my arms wide, lean my head back and take it all in. Every ounce of pain and love and hate and happiness. Every last bit until i am so full, ready to burst and leak and paint the world with my own colours. 

My given name is Y, like Why was you born. Thanks mum.

When I was growing up, hanging around the Good Honest Establishment she worked at Diamond Girls, I would ask her which one of her Good Honest gentlemen could be my father? She would slap me round the head, laugh and tell me to piss off. Work had to be done and food had to be bought, she didn't have time for me.

Which was cool, cause I was a kid of the Trash. I lived and mingled with good ol thieves and honest cut throats. I played with the children of pirates and dug around in the most beautiful land mine any person could ever see.

Some places hand horrible land mines, brown and moulding, stinking to the skies and covered in all the bird shit on the planet. Ours though was special.

I lived on a planet were no good Nobels would come to play, spend their no good money on stupid stuff I wouldn't spend a copper on.

Who the hell wants a dog as pet? Makes a good meal.

So those good for nothing nobles throw away stuff that only a good for nothing noble would think is useless.

I mean, darling, you couldn't possibly wear the same clothes once now could you?

Our Land Mine was filled with colourful silks. Bright blues, reds, purples, greens and other made up colours like 'Fuschia'. Glass windows with red and yellow dancing girls. Hover cars rusting away but glow in the night from the glow in the dark neon colours.