PaperCherries

A collection of daily writings. My therapist suggest I do this as a means to stay grounded.

[papercherries]

I feel so hollow at the moment. I think it's because I've eaten like shit all day. All I want is another cigarette but I have to save them as I won't be able to buy any till tomorrow. I'm stressed about my financial situation again. My overdraft interest is increasing and I definitely cannot afford to pay it all off quickly. At least not quick enough to get a few charges. This will be a major blow to me. Will genuinely ruin me. I'm not sure I will have a way to recover. The interest goes up today though I am not sure if that means I get charged today. If not, then I might have enough time to scramble like my life depends on it and save as much as possible before it hits. If it does come out today, I have a way to survive. But it will just make paying it off harder. As long as I survive, that's all that matters.

Also England just lost. Be careful tonight please. Don't be a prick either.

[papercherries]

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This last one I recorded at way too low of a volume so I had to crank it and near the end u can just hear my upstairs neighbours walking about lmao. Maybe you can also hear a washing machine? I don't remember.

Wrote this one because I'd heard a song with a similar vibe. I'm not sure it's even out yet? But I liked the sentiment but mostly wanted to write about my friends and the queer community in general.

[papercherries]

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I don't remember why I wrote this song. There's an early version of it somewhere in my files but it was with a full band and the lyrics were terrible. I'm glad I worked on it, I just can't remember why or how it started.

Once again, the mixing sucks. I did it in like 5 minutes. This more for me to get these out somewhere, for myself mostly.

[papercherries]

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(Maybe volume warning? Probably a bit loud. I'm not sure how well I've mixed this).

Dirty Pennies, Erik Peterson. Recorded this last week and thought I'd upload the cover as it was 10 years since his death yesterday. This song has been all I've been playing as of recently and it's become a key part of my practice routine.

I also fuck up the lyrics occasionally. I was doing this from a very loose memory. I also get my words muddled a lot.

Probably just going to upload a bunch of recordings as I'm going through them. Helps me come to terms with them. Will totally remove them if I ever use them for something though as if anyone I knew found this page they'd probably get me put into a ward.

[papercherries]

I've been told a lot of the time that life gets easier everyday. As if it's someway to stop my growing dissonance. I don't mean that these people mean harm or are ignorant. It's just a different perspective on life.

I see everyday as one that is neither better or worse than the last. I try to keep things neutral. Though sometimes days I feel as if I am high with euphoria. Usually as a response to some stimuli: a great concert, a loving day with friends or experiencing some amazing piece of art. Usually this is then followed by a severe depression. I don't know the scientific term but a sort of "post party depression".

I try to keep things neutral because it becomes easier to bare the everyday. If I am in a constant state of a swaying pendulum I will end up feeling awful. It was how I was 3 or 4 years ago. I would drink myself to death but it felt great, then at some point I would drop immediately. An immense depression would flow all over me. A complete need for self harm and suicidal tendencies.

My behavior has changed since, I stopped drinking for 4 months and went to therapy. It allowed for a moment of pause. A silence after a cacophony. It allowed me to be neutral, it allowed me to be normal for a short while. Or at least actually focus on my studies.

I started drinking again after those 4 months. However, it wasn't the same. I would only drink with company and when I drank I wouldn't drink nearly as much. I would still have fun and still occasionally get drunk but I wouldn't have that pendulum. If I was depressed, I still felt the need to drink but I could identify those feelings better and prepare for them.

This was the case until recently, where I would get drunk and self harm. I don't know why I would do this. It felt weird. It felt right and deserved when I was doing it but afterwards I would shun myself. However, my friends had an intervention with me after I had an episode and disappeared for 36 hours. First time a missing persons report was put out on me! But I have slowed down my drinking again. I was asked during this intervention whether I was doing this for myself or if I was doing it for my friends who were asking. I knew the answer and I think they did too. It's enough for me. I don't live for myself, I live for everyone else around me.

I sometimes have these moments of insane confidence and I believe I could kill god. I understand what this is, but it never affects that recklessness toward my own self. It's less of a sudden affection for myself and more of a change in attitude toward life. From "life doesn't matter" to "Life doesn't matter!".

I'm not sure how to end this so, I recently got perfection in Stardew Valley for the second time. Planning on going for 100% in Factorio next. Really though, as I'm doing all this, I'm just thinking about how much I want to play Pokopia but I cannot afford a switch 2. I will have it one day. One day.

[papercherries]

I understand that this isnt a new or even unique concept. But I find it so crazy going on a date with someone you've had a one night stand with.

I'm doing it tomorrow and I hadn't even considered it odd or strange. Which I don't think it is but there's something to be said about seeing someone you thought you'd only see once and seeing them again.

I won't go into detail but the very mixing and intertwining of bodies, I find very personal. I've had many one night stands and stuff like that but the way society or even some of my friends react makes it seem like an impersonal act. Like it was just sex.

Whilst I think going into detail is irrelevant. I think that it's like a dance. People say humans don't have this bird like mating ritual where they show their feathers and their skills but it's quite literally all we do. There's so many forms of sex that I find it interesting that it's such a general term. I think it's required due to the nature of it. Some people would find it off-putting if it wasn't so general.

To be honest, I don't enjoy sex as much as I enjoy the preamble. The meeting, the talking, the dancing, the singing, the screaming lyrics. The very moment where you lock eyes. That's the best part. I'm not saying I don't enjoy the later points. But the ritual is what I enjoy most.

If I am continuing to be honest, I see most of life as a dance. I bartend and I think the most efficient way to move whilst bartending is treating it like dancing. Twist your body and turn on your feet. It makes it more enjoyable and it creates rhythm. My favourite song to play on a rush is Tank by SEATBELTS (the cowboy bebop opening). The fast pace and the rhythm makes it fun to run around, shake cocktails and generally move.

I think the same can be said for the rest of life. I've realised I've gone off topic so we'll return.

I hope this date tomorrow goes well. Because against opinions. I treat every sexual encounter with an immense amount of personal emotion. I'm not saying I fall in love with them. But I see the potential to. I treat it as if they're someone I've known my whole life, who I've loved wholly. I don't choose to do this, it just happens. I have an intense love for all people who deserve it. Which is most people. So when these encounters occur, it's like finding someone that elevates that. It's proof there's love in the world.

It's moreso that I never go out with the intention of doing these things. I go out to make friends, that's frankly all that matters to me. I like learning about people, who they are, their lives, how they're feeling. I don't care about sex.

I don't do this for any other reason than, I like people.

I've always said that I don't believe in god because I see god in every person I meet. I don't have a god because people are my god. They are cruel and kind. Like most gods. But there is love in every single one of them. At least I hope so, it doesn't always feel like it.

Point being, I think when I have these encounters, I try to love so much and it shows at some point, someone has loved me back. If just for the night. Because when I look in the mirror, I don't see a god. I see someone who isn't there. Who shouldn't be there. Who shouldn't have lived this long. Who should've have made it as far as they have. Who has a support system they don't deserve. Someone who has wronged so many people and has been forgiven so many times. An addict. Someone worthless. Someone unlovable.

Now these thoughts I shoo away. I know they're wrong. I know it's my bipolar or my depression. I have voices in my head. They're arseholes but I've learnt to deal with them, sometimes it's a simple spoken "fuck off" or it's a conversation. If it gets so bad I can't speak back. I sing, usually repeated phrases. But there is love. If people are my gods, then I must be too.

Here's one of those repeating phrases:

"for four fortnight's I have fled from my fortress

Foraging forest five footsteps in length

Fortitude found within forty ounce bottles

Flowing like flies from your face

From your face

My neighbourhood has been filled brim with black cats

When I go driving they walk in my path all the time

Everytime"

- A Song Dedicated to the Memory of Stormy the Rabbit - AJJ

[papercherries]

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Song I've been working on recently. Incomplete but I like it for now. Kinda sucks but oh well. \O-0/

[papercherries]

I have just finished reading Orlando. I sit outside with my coffee and cigarettes which I cannot afford. This month has been stressful, yet delightful. I just managed to avoid eviction, my close friend was diagnosed with leukemia and my job has not been stable enough to allow me to be stable enough. However, I now have a niece, I feel excitement in the air for the games, the weather has been lovely post heatwave.

Though, I sit here and wonder (as I do when I finish a book that impacts me). In my garden, basking in the sun, drinking my coffee and enjoying my cigarette. Did Orlando enjoy the sun and trees as I do? Did Orlando enjoy coffee and cigarettes as I do? No I don't think so.

I think the point of Orlando is to examine or justify the human experience. Which is wholly unique to each individual.

But I relish in the difference of each person. It's the beauty of human interaction.

[papercherries]

Sometimes, decently rarely, I am haunted by thoughts of becoming a woman. I like to think this is because I relish in the fact of my androgyny. I am am sometimes mistaken for a trans man or a trans woman, woman or man. I am neither or any. But I am definitely male presenting. Which sometimes catches me in my thoughts. I am well built, rather short (or at least average height but I hate being tall) and I sport male clothing a lot of the time. It's only when it comes to my culture I don't.

Wearing a kilt is freeing. It's like a free pass, I don't have to worry about people shouting at me or calling me names which has happened when I wear skirts. I love wearing skirts. It's not even about the gender euphoria or the fact that it makes me feel more non binary. It's freedom of motion. Trouser are great and I love the many styles the come in. But nothing will beat twirling around in the club and feeling your skirt lift with you as you do it. It's an extension of movement that trousers don't offer.

But these thoughts persist in a way that's confusing. I believe I am non binary. I'm not sure if that will change in the future. Ive never been a "manly" man, even in my youth. It's probably why I never identified with it. Realising I was non binary was a big step. But really it was there all along. The way it came to me really was the fact I never think of myself as any specific gender. I am free flowing.

The problem with this is sometimes I don't want to be. Sometimes I want to be feminine. I want to look good in skirts and have a body that would fit that kind of thing. But I am stuck with a male body. Which sometimes I like! I am well built as I said. But it's more a thing of the things I do at work. Just lifting heavy shit and gaining like that. I drink lots of beer as well which probably doesn't help. I'm chubby but of large stature despite being so small. I often wear oversized t shirts to hide this fact because it makes me feel less androgynous.

The point being, I'm not sure if I'm ready to face another truth like this. If it is true that is. It took me so long to realise I was bisexual or even pansexual or demisexual (Christ I'm still figuring it out) but I don't know if I have the fortitude to be trans. If I am that is if it's true. My drunken thoughts often contain glimpses of wearing white frilly dresses and makeup that turns me into a goddess (though I have to be careful because I'm allergic to some makeup and it will come close to killing me) .

But sometimes I'll look in the mirror and see exactly the person I want to be. Chubby, gorgeous hair (if I am to be humble), a cigarette in my mouth and a beer in my hand. But another time I'll look closer. I would wish my shoulders were smaller, my hands weren't as big, my body my curved, my biceps smaller and my legs more smooth.

On a small tangent, a lot of people are annoyed or jealous of my feminine disposition. I don't grow hair on my arms or my face really. My legs barely. My hair is fair and voluminous without anything but shampoo. My eyebrows sleek and well preserved. I obviously love all these facts because it means less maintenance of my body but sometimes I wonder. Is it the fact I don't touch these things that they remain or is it a fact of genetics. If it were the later, why is my body the way it is.

I think this thought vomit has helped me come to terms with my thoughts for the moment. They will return as they always do, just as I go for a cigarette. But I think I am safe within my self for now.

Another side thought. The problem is, whenever I have these thoughts I hide away. I tell myself, "this can't be happening, you're not ready for this, you would never fit in, you're really pretty". That's the problem. I can't face these thoughts without being forced into them. I'm afraid if I face them I might come to another realisation and I can't deal with it. I'm already on the edge. My life is in shambles. I pretend to be cool and calm. I pretend that I am fine with sleeping on the street or park benches but I fucking hated that. Sure, I can do it. I can survive but I don't want to go back to that. I'm so stuck in my addictions that anything would push be straight over. I don't wanna drink as much as I do. I don't want to end up in some strangers apartment. I want safety. I want to feel like I'm not gonna jump every 5 minutes. And that would just bring too many questions. Too many issues.

The worst part is, usually I don't give a shit. I'm stubborn to a fault. I don't care what people think of me but in this very scenario it terrifies me. I know my friends won't judge me. I know I'll be fine on my own if they do. But god I just need something to hold onto for now. I lied, I am not safe in my self.

I am quite the opposite. I am self destructive. It's a miracle I have the support system I do. My dad always said " (cherries) you always have attracted people. No matter the shitty mood you're in. People want to be near you". I hated it when he said that at the time. I was a reclusive teenager. But now I get it. But I don't. They shouldn't want to be near me. I hurt them. I make them worry to the point where they put out a missing persons report on me. I disappear. I embarrass myself constantly. Yet, they are there. I hate it.

I know this is all self loathing bullshit. I'm word vomitting. It helps keep my thoughts in cheque. Or else I'd probably hurt myself, in one way or another. But I would protect these people with my life. Whether recklessly or not. My family aren't there for me emotionally. They are.

When I disappeared recently. My friends talked to me. They sat me down and told me all their worries. They made me promise to look into AA. I haven't done so. I don't plan to. I will go to therapy. But AA feels like admittance. I don't want to admit to relapse. Even though that's exactly what I've done. They sat me down. My friend hugged me tightly. She knew of my self harm and issues. But all I wanted to do was cry into her shoulder. It felt silly. I couldn't do that. This was not my issue. It was my fault. I couldn't have pity thrown on me. Except, that was the whole point. They weren't doing it for the fact that they felt worried. They were doing it because they were worried about me. In the end I'm silly.

What a real tangent. I wish I could cry about it. But I am not capable of fulfilling cry when I am sober. And when I am drunk, I don't remember it. I wish I did.

Anyway, real tangent sorry. Love you, goodnight.

[papercherries]

I think I'm in love with everyone and everything. I had my first break from the city in a while today. It was refreshing. Loving. Makes me want to move immediately. I hung out with a friend I've met a couple times. I thought I loved her. But then I remembered, I love my manager, my coworker, the stranger I had a night with after a show. I think I've recently started confusing crushes for a general appreciation for life. The concept seems so foreign in my head.

I relapsed recently. It was a rough weekend. A missing persons report was put out on me. It was never that serious to me but my friends thought so. I have a support system I don't deserve. I love my friends. I'd die for them. But is it worth dropping this to move to a new place just because it gave me some respite. Maybe my time in the city is over. Like mournful lovers, we are trying to keep with one another but it feels as if something goes wrong every time.

It's almost definitely my fault. A city is not a person. It can be personified and be assigned emotion but it will never be a person. I've abused this city for all I can get away with. I must ruin another. So the cycle will forever continue. Move, love, ruin, move. I couldn't think of a more fitting mantra for myself. I spend my whole life running. As soon as I think I have a crush on someone I avoid them at all costs. I can't let the feeling develop. I must reserve myself. I only wish that I could be an arsehole about it. I wish I could be rude and horrible to the people I like. I want to push them away. But I cannot bring myself to do such a thing. It's cruel. They never deserve that.

The point has ran. The day is over. I am tanned. Well read. Slightly drunk. Smoked about a pack and a half. Broke and in love. I wouldn't trade it for the world. Though I would trade a tooth for a pack of cigarettes right now.

[papercherries]

I'm alive.

Things were better for a little bit. I have significantly less stress but still some. But the strangest thing happened today. My mood swings came back. I knew they came back because I spent maybe 6 hours being super hyperactive. I was like one of those kids on sugar. But the later into that 6 hours it got the more likely I was to snap. I snapped at my manager and I really had to keep myself from snapping at customers. Sure it was a little stressful at work but nothing insane. I felt great and then suddenly I wouldn't.

Then on the way home it hit. I don't even really remember the journey back. Hell I don't really even remember the last 3 hours. (My journey is an hour and a half). I remember feeling extremely depressed. Imagining my body being hurt in fatal ways. Non fatal ways. I couldn't keep myself awake on the bus so that mightve helped. And now I'm awake. I'm thinking of never talking to my work colleagues ever again. I love them. But I have this nagging bug in my brain that's telling me they're beginning to not like me. I have to leave. I have to distance myself. I have to hurt myself.

I know none of this is true. They might be getting annoyed with me but I'm not happy with feeling this way again. It used to happen a lot but definitely hasn't happened in a while. At least not whilst I've been sober. Maybe I've been chasing something for a while and now I've finally stopped chasing it I'm crashing. I've not vaped in a week? I've not "been" with anyone in a week and a half. I was doing those things a lot before.

I don't know. I'd like to think this should be my sign to finally get medicated for my bpd but I love the rush. It's a volatile euphoric feeling. I felt quite literally on air. I was just wondering when I'd crash. It seems that time has come upon me.

Will I sleep and wake up fine? I hope not. I want to stop talking to my colleagues and I want to leave. I need to start anew.

[papercherries]

If my payment plan doesn't go through for what I owe, then bailiffs will be sent to my flat. I have been summoned to court for a tax I don't even owe. There's are two separate charges. I found out about the first one tomorrow. The second I should be able to clear. If the first one ends badly, I plan to end it. I cannot deal with anymore stress.

For a little while life was good. I had food, shelter, disposable income, friends, good times. I finally got a show. Finally, I'm maybe getting into a relationship with someone stable. I still fucked up occasionally but nothing major like before. The ghosts of past have materialised into debt.

I'm not materialistic but I cannot live without my instruments. I cannot live without contact. I need my laptop to work on my passions. If I lose that, the brain will kill itself. I'd live and move on but I'm not sure I can do it this time. Tomorrow I will buy the necessary supplies. There's a part of me that hopes someone will find them and try to stop me. There's also a part of me that wants them to leave me in peace.

It'll be a painful death. Not one I think I deserve. Not one I need. It's a shame. They were just beginning to like me. I don't want to rip that away from them. My friends, might even expect it. Not consciously but I've tried before. It'll be shocking but not a surprise. My family will be devastated. If I had my cat it would be different. I'd have something to keep me here. But I don't. She's being cared for by my family. I'd hate to leave her. I think ill see her one last time before I go.

It's brutal isn't it? If i hadn't decided to do a masters. If I had known I could have uc. Then this wouldn't have been an issue. Ending it seems pointless. But continuing seems unnecessary.

I don't believe in an afterlife. I'd like there to be one, a happy one. But I truly have no idea what waits for me. I hope to be a bird. A crow. Something smart. Or a duck. My ex always said I was like a duck. My friends say I'm like a trash animal. A raccoon, a rat, a mouse, a fox. One friend says I'm a cockroach. Not as an insult but because "i refuse to die, no matter how broke i am, no matter how beaten or damaged i am. I somehow live." But even cockroaches die. At least time it isn't obvious.

Before, you could tell when it was likely to happen. I'd break down, I'd have episodes, I'd be drunk. I plan to be the latter this week. But this time it's nothing. It's almost peace. A very sad, harrowing peace. Like there's a hole in my body, it's frightening and deep. But it's welcoming and warm. Like a hug from the void. I have an irrational fear of voids. Thank you crush coaster 2006.

I will make a long note. Thanking those who have helped me. Divvying items if i still have them. Letting everyone know what is thought of them by others. Reminding strangers of my existence. Making sure not to forget anyone. Leaving my passwords so that my friends may use my accounts to contact those who they will not be able to contact. And also so they can have my game collections. Apologising to those I have wronged. I don't ask for forgiveness in death, only to know that I took the effort to remember them and apologise. I will link them to this account. They will be able to read what thoughts I had. Hopefully, they will gain an understanding of why I did what I did through that.

Being diagnosed and medicated seems pointless. I never did like it. Plus now it's too late. My brain is rotted. I've always had two people in my head. One is the one writing this. The other, is the voice of reason. Yet, they seem to be in harmony right now. You could say it's like the devil and the angel on the shoulders of people. But I don't think mine were ever opposites. I think they're just me. Two versions of myself fighting over a brain. I constantly have to internally fight myself. I have to pretend I don't care. I have to pretend it will be alright. But right now, they speak as one. They write as one. This is the intended solution. Perfect grade. The wiring is scrambled. The solder points corroded. The disc, rotted. In it's last dying breath I hope I ignore the pain. I hope I go through with it. I hope I don't try to scramble and save myself. It would be an embarrassment. I just hope I am found early so I don't take up too much time in the bath.

I was thinking painkillers but electricity seems faster. Yet I'd like to leave a good body for the proceedings. I wish for my ashes to made into a bench. No anti homeless shit, a good edge to grind on and comfy enough to sleep on. Away from any security guards or police and enough space to leave an awesome spray. That is all. Lights off, performers undress and curtains close.

[papercherries]

Is it weird that I don't want to sleep? I've slept all day and I enjoy sleeping. It's 5am and I'm a little tired but there's nothing I want less than to sleep. I need to wake up tomorrow and do semi important things. Is it a way to reclaim time I've lost or is it just simply a weird roundabout way to self harm. I've never been able to sleep normally. I should try medication but I never did like taking medication. I wish there was a way to shut my brain off like a computer.

Sometimes I wish I was like normal people, whatever that means. Do normal people sleep well? Do they get nightmares every night? Do they get strange dreams?

I think I'm stressed. I've thought about suicide a lot this week. Not seriously, maybe seriously. I think its just ideation. But the thought lingers. It seems like the only out. I'm not sick of the monotony. Nor am I sick of my life. I've made some mistakes sure, but nothing major in a while.

I'm drowning in debt is the issue. Not an unmanageable amount. I just freaked out when I saw it. I didn't crash but I had to stop working and sit outside. Luckily I figured it out but if I had another debt hit me I think I'd lose everything. I'm not a materialistic person but if they took away some of my precious belongings i think I'd kill myself. My instruments are the only thing keeping me in check some days.

I know at some point I'm going to be sick of my life. It's coming, I can feel it. I haven't moved in a while. I've been stationary. Same job, same flat, same friends. It isn't like me. Maybe the reason I've been sleeping around so much recently is because it simulates some sort of movement. A temporary change. I need permanent. Maybe it's a need to feel I am progressing. That i am getting closer to a goal. But I have no goals. There's things I want to do but it's more like suggestions. I think suicide may seem like a permanent solution and that's why I think about it so much. It's quick and it's easy. It's not painless though.

The only thing that stopped me in the past was the fear of hurting other people. But nowadays, I don't want to hurt myself. (As well as other people). It's a strange change. I've never cared much for myself. I still don't. I kill myself slowly everyday. Whether it's alcohol, smoking, vaping, shrinking my brain and ruining my nostrils with drugs. I'm addict. I know it. They know it. But I've gotten better. I will continue to. I'm not sure who for. Maybe myself but probably for my cat. Probably for the people I will meet.

I see God in the faces of people I meet. The devil in my own reflection. A God in my own right. I just want to be a good person and improve the world when I'm here. And when I'm gone, I'd like to think I had made a positive impact on people's lives. I don't mean that in a sense of grandeur or philanthropy. I want to heal people the way people have tried to heal me. Being alone is hard. I won't let people feel alone. Not the same way I do.

[papercherries]

I didn't feel the need to move again. Till this very moment. It's not heart shattering nor is it even confirmed. I think a person who I've liked for a while has a partner. Mind you, this isn't unexpected. We are just friends who kiss each other sometimes. I've had relationships. I assume they have too. But actually seeing this one has me feeling, angry? Maybe just upset. This is an initial response, almost immediate. But my mind went straight to running.

For context, she has said things to me that could be seen as leading me on. I know this. I'm not blind, just stupid. I always see these things before or as they happen. I allow myself to fall for them anyway. At points she has told me she loved/loves me. At points she has told me she wants to be with me. But she could never allow it to happen. She says this is due to her having previously been stalked. I am not a wall nor do I claim to be any sort of protection. I'd like to be but I do not know how I am seen in her eyes. However, I am not afraid of this kind of thing. Sure, if something did happen it would scare the shit out of me. But as a statement, it just triggers a masculine or even heteronormative response. Despite being Non-binary, I still hold onto my hetero upbringing. The "man of the house" and the almost inherent saviours complex that comes with this. I know she is plenty capable. She could probably beat the shit out of me. Nonetheless, I couldn't convince her.

Then, I get into a relationship. She seems upset but happy for me. I think I am feeling the same way. However, I am doing this purely from speculation. Sure, the thing she posted implied that she was seeing this person. However, it was just a kiss. And as I know, she has kissed many people. So my initial response might even be jealousy.

We don't hang out often, but when we do something always happens. We end up kissing or sleeping together (both in a sexual sense and in a sleeping sense). Recently, I went her birthday party. Quite frankly, I didn't expect anything to happen. I'm not sure I wanted it to. I thought I had moved on. Sometimes, I feel like I see other people just to get over her. But, obviously something happened. Nothing major but it happened. It all started up again.

I hate her so much. I hate feeling this way. I hate being this attached to one person. I feel like I am a teenager. I think the reason I have so much trouble with her is because we're very similar people. We are both broken in the same way. We both drink too much, we both smoke too much, we both sleep around too much. We go to parties, concerts and nights out then make friends or just try to convince people to buy us drinks.

There was something she said to me at that party. I might've already mentioned it in a previous post. It went along the lines of "I wish we hung out more, you're so much fun". I have talked about how I don't want to be seen as just fun. I don't think that's how she sees me but part of me suspects it's the case. I know she cares for me, not just as a romantic or sexual companion but as a friend. But every time I think of her I feel the need to run away. Then every time I'm with her I feel the need to stay forever.

I need her to give me an actual reason to leave. A justification for this running. Because I feel the need to, but I see no reason to give up a good friend. I'm not sure if I was the one who took this too far. I just know it's not fair to everyone else I see or date. Because I know, if she asked me to be with her instead of anyone else; I would immediately jump for it.

I was having such a good night as well. I was researching how to make puppets. You should check out the creatures of yes if someone actually reads this. Amazing video art as well as theatrical I imagine though I have yet to see any live performances.

This writing has helped me calm down though. I still feel something in my chest. I wish I had a cigarette to snuff it out. I wish I had someone to drink with and talk it out with. But it's too late at night and I'd probably just end up crying to some poor person. Well at least I am feeling something.

I'm not even sure you would define this as a situationship?

[papercherries]

I recently have been making more mistakes than I'd like. It happens when I get too comfortable somewhere. I'm the type of person who needs to constantly move. I can't stay in one job. I can't stay with the same friends. I can't stay in relationships. You could say my feet sit in an ice bath whilst my arms and body flails about.

I constantly self sabotage. The longer I stay somewhere the worse it gets. I have some constants. I have best friends but they stay because they have seen me at my worst and they know I am better than I used to be. But if I stay still, if I get depressed, if I get bored, I crash. I drink too much, I do too much, I spend too much and eventually, it all comes falling down. One of my close friends describes me as a cockroach. Despite all this, I live.

I need to move again. I'm moving jobs. I'll try not to speak to any of my colleagues again. I don't think I'll be successful in this regard as I believe they actually like me. However, a massive scandal may be approaching. Not due to me. But due to the entire staff. The place already has low employee retention due to infrequent hours, more work than gratitude and generally overbearing or incompetent senior management. Not to mention the nepotism regarding some of these higher ups. The place also suffers from an extreme identity crisis. The only reason I work as hard as I do is for the betterment of my friends at work. But the need to move always eats away at me and I feel it is necessary now. Jumping ship.

I'll make new friends at my new job, I will enjoy my new job, I'll learn, make mistakes and eventually, I will find the need to move again. I will stay afloat but just barely. I don't enjoy being on the edge constantly. But I don't allow myself not to. If I'm not depressed, if I'm not crashing, if I'm not making mistakes. Then I am nothing. I can't sit still and live a normal life. I can't work my shift and then just go home. I feel the need to move. I cannot rest. I either sleep for 2 hours or I sleep for 12.

Maybe I am addicted to adrenaline. I feel the need to go out all the time. Concerts, clubbing and just generally being around people. Maybe I feel the need to search for a community that understands me and I have yet to find it. I know there is one. I am involved with it, but in this city it's hard. The community is small and sparse. I want to do something about it. This is a very sporadic entry.

Point being, I'd like to think if I find this community that understands me, for every flaw. I'd like to think I'd stop feeling this need to move. But I fear that it will just happen again. I will make more mistakes and will be to scared or embarrassed to fix them. I will rot in my shame. I need to make changes. I don't know where to start. Am I scared of growing up? I live my days as if I know when I'm going to die. I constantly put myself in dangerous situations. Do I gain some kind of excitement from this? Some kind of pleasure? I should probably go back to therapy.

[papercherries]

Pick it all up, bring it home.

I've been thinking recently about the relationships I've had in the past year. This year I've had more financial security than usual so I've been "outside" more. I've also lost weight and got a new haircut (mostly due to being broke but going from a mullet to a wolf isn't crazy). I've been more emotionally secure. In every aspect I have been better.

I am known for going out a lot. It's a part of my personality. It's a part of me. I make lots of friends. I go on lots of random adventures. Recently, I went from a night out and ended up in the center of the city handing out soup and coffee to the homeless with a group. The soup and coffee was good. I make friends wherever I go. I am happy with this.

The issue is my romantic relationships. In every romantic relationship I have had over the last year and a bit, I have felt as if they are only with me because I am fun and "kind". Fun being the annoying part. I've been in one committed relationship and it was ok. We met at a nightclub and they were nice at first. But I felt they were only with me because I was nice to them. It felt like the bare minimum. Maybe that's a lot but I don't think people should settle for that. I am riddled with issues. I am constantly broke, emotionally unstable at times, self destructive in every right. But I think that's what makes me fun. I find solace in these nights, these shows, these adventures. I love people. I see the faces in these places and I think about how each and every one is their own person. How each and every one has their own problems and lives and families and friends. I make friends with these people, most of the time being fast friends. But I relish these experiences because I walk past people everyday without knowing them. I like to be a comfort. I stay with these people, most of the time ending with them confessing their troubles and worries to me. As drunk people sometimes do. I have no intention of this happening. It just happens. The amount of times I have had strangers cry into my arms. I wish they had someone more permanent.

But the people I meet romantically are different. I've had a lot of situationships. Which usually is always them inviting me to get drunk with them on a night out. Or just get drunk with them in general. I am sick of this. It's been so long since someone has been with me for anything else other than my fun or comfort. Some people would say I am privileged purely for the fact I have some form of companionship or sexual activity. But I think I still have the right to have an issue with it.

I just want to be liked and loved for other reasons. I am not kind. I am the minimum. I don't think I am particularly funny besides my absent mindedness. But I think I am passionate. I love music, I love my friends music, I love to be in a crowd and to feel the movement of everyone around me. I love watching films and to consider their alternate meanings within the context of other texts. I love to advocate for people less fortunate than me and fight for them in the same vein. I love listening to other people's stories and lives. I love reading essays and modern American literature. Classic texts also.

I am just sick of being known as the party person. I like doing all that stuff but I feel like people forget my other passions. Just because I sleep with people, have multiple "partners", do illicit substances and drink enough to kill a cow. It doesn't mean that encompasses my whole personality. We won't even get into my obsession with video games.

I am lovingly self destructive. It consumes me. I just wish it wasn't all I was known for.

[papercherries]

Currently not functional.

I have been awake for about 62 hours. I went to work today. I told them I had only not slept the night before. It started with Twin Peaks. I can barely type. I have a bad habit with series. Once I start, I cannot stop. I watched the whole first season and up to the 5th episode of the second season. At this point I had to get out of my room and be a functioning member of society. I knew I couldn't sleep that day. I smoked. I did poppers, they tend to keep me awake after the high.

But I have reached a point of, what I believe is psychosis. I do not know the proper definition, nor do I know the parameters. Though I feel the last statement is one in the same. I have collected some thoughts I have had on my journey home tonight from work. The journey takes about an hour and a half, but requires some context.

I had been at work today. Far too sleep deprived. I drank about 4 cups of coffee in about an hour. I like my coffee black, I hate milk and I like the sour taste of pure coffee. I had taken some poppers before work to keep me awake for the journey there. After I had the coffee I went into a spiral.

I felt I was an egg, that had been broken into a pan too early. Y'know when the frying pan hasn't heated up properly yet. Just a congealed jelly. A possibility of being a living thing. A possibility of being the meal for the next. Sitting there, waiting for the pan to boil.

After the caffeine induced madness stopped. I felt better. I drank water. I ate food. I had a marvelous tortilla for dinner on my break. Which was stuffed and on discount. Though this was probably unwise as the carbs and protein caused the blood to leave my brain to process the food in my liver and stomach.

I was able to get off shift an hour and a half early because my role was essentially useless on a late monday evening. I yearned for a nice cold beer. Not because I wanted to be drunk but because I knew the company of my friends would keep me awake. They were aware of my morning and how I had taken poppers to stay awake. Quite frankly they were weirded out by how I was still functioning despite them thinking I had been awake for 36 hours rather than closer to 60.

I remember, I was on the bar and I saw a mouse. This wasn't unusual. My bar is in a shopping centre. They're impossible to get rid of and our bar didn't even had the brunt of it. But I kept seeing mice in the corner of my eye. They usually don't care if they are spotted but I felt as if they were waiting for me to look away. When I had this thought, I realised they weren't real. I am quite decent at reacting to what I know isn't real. I am able to calm myself in this sense. I knew there wasn't really mice. But they still caught my eye.

I had a couple beers. Drank with my friends. I was quite sharp once I had drank. We were playing a game where you have to name names in a certain way. If I say Leonard Cohen, you have to say the name of a famous person starting with C. It goes in a circle direction till someone says a double like Donald Duck and then it's reversed. You're meant to drink whilst you think but unless it's a particular night, we usually omit this rule. I have a weird memory for American politicians. Despite not being from America. I worry about my friends.

Most people left. It was me and my close friend. I'm sure he confided in me as he usually does. But I don't remember anything regarding the conversation. The only thing I remember saying is that I was trying to learn Harness your Hopes on banjo. Oh! and that he might want to do a colab with me at some point with my banjo.

We then left and went our seperate ways. My assistant manager told me to get some sleep. My friend told me to stop doing poppers before work.

Then began the trip home and the beginning of my stream of thoughts.

First I thought: "I look in the mirror and think it's not me. Not for any gender questioning reason nor any other reason. It's just not me. I am the person I want to be. Yet when I look in my own eyes, they do not belong to me. The sun hurts my eyes. My senior manager asks why I always wear sunglasses on the rooftop bar. I say I can't see in bright sunlight. Perhaps it's an issue with my eyes. They say grey eyes are most susceptible to light. Yet I cannot see in the dark . I don't wish I could. I'd be starring all night if I could. The people of the night lull me to sleep"

Then I reflected on how this started. With Laura Palmer and Twin Peaks. Right now I feel as if I am inbetween. The days have molded together. The only reason I am sure of the day is the date on my phone. Yesterday was today and today was yesterday. I wouldn't be able to tell you a single interaction I had with a customer today. Bar one. A group of kids came in. They were wearing F1 t-shirts. They wanted to see the new F1 film. I work in a cinema/bar for context. They were shocked by the ticket prices as the next screening was in peak time. They asked me if I could just give them off peak ticket prices. I told them I literally couldn't due to the limitations of the system. I would've if could. They were excited children. I hope they keep that joy. They were even too young to go into the screen. But that was a separate situation that I wasn't involved in. I think they saw the film in the end.

Back to Laura Palmer. I too feel I hold a great darkness within me. I have done things I regret. I have been a worse person than I am now. I work to subdue that side of me. I have been violent in ways I think have been justifiable. I would be violent again in these situations. Mind you I got the shit beaten out of me every time. I would do it again but only when justifiable. I used to be a pacifist. I have done immoral things. Things I regret. Things that will bite me soon. Or maybe they won't. If they do, it will be deserved. If they don't, I have already made my peace with those situations. At least most of them.

I am ok now. I am emotionally stable, financially stable (at least by my means of living). I feel good. I am no longer depressed in the same way I was. My bipolar isn't as bad after therapy. I no longer feel the need to become inebriated to live. It was a sad life I was living. It will be sad again. But I had the tools in which to deal with it now.

"They know the devil inside me. they subdued i, I subdued it, they lead the initial charge"

I wrote "I feel I must write, not because I believe I am in a bad state, nor because I believe I am a tortured artist (I might add I don't believe in the necessity). But because I believe I must torture myself for the things I have done". This passage interests me. I wrote it less than an hour ago. Yet I do not believe it. I have tortured myself enough. Yet sometimes my mind slips. However, the next statement is "I am grown. I am a different person. I try to believe so at least".

A paraphrased quote from a song I like, it must've been playing at the time. "God in the people I meet". I think it goes more along the lines of "I see the devil when I look in the mirror, I see God inside every person I meet"

I remember this one, as we are getting to the later entries. This one was a mere 30 minutes ago. "Flashing lights remind me of sleep". I get off at the last stop on my bus. They turn the lights off and then turn them on again to let them know that the bus is no longer running. I think it must remind me of being in the car as a kid. Going along the motorway with the flashing street lights. Going by at 60 miles an hour. Each one passing in an instant before the next one. I used to be able to sleep anywhere. I don't have such a luxury anymore. I hope to find it again one day.

This one is a memory from earlier in the night. A man dabbed me up and asked if I smoked. I told him I had quit. This was a lie. Not because I didn't want to. But I remember thinking; "If I smoked a zoot, I would simply fall to the floor and die right there. Nobody would know till the next day when I didn't turn up for work". Though in retrospect I wasn't far from my place of work and against popular opinion, the people of my city can be incredibly kind.

We are getting to the point where I reached my flat. I walked in. It still smelled like bacon and eggs. My flatmate had been cooking it that morning. I wondered if the smell had persisted all day or if he had cooked it again later for dinner. I didn't mind. I love the smell of food.

"I believe if people read this, they will believe it's the start of some schizophrenic episode. It very well might be. Sleep deprivation does a lot to the mind".

10 minutes ago. "I feel slow. I was in a coffee induced psychosis earlier. I felt better after water and no more coffee. Then I had beer. I felt awake. Alive. Talking with my friends. Acting as a person. I am a person. Even the word feels spelt wrong (person). I spelt sweet four times in a row today. Then I looked at it and the word seemed unfamiliar. My flat seems unfamiliar. The days are fading together. Did I really make such a mess this morning? I know I did. I was looking for my umbrella as it was going to rain. But why did I tear my room so?".

Present. I am listening to music. Usually when I write I have only instrumentals. Usually video game soundtracks and Spanish guitar. But these songs have words. But in my current state they have no meaning. No greater purpose. Just extra layers of sound. Upon extra layers of sound. I am kept awake by nicotine now. Only for a short amount of time. I feel the crash coming on. It will be at least a 10 hour sleep. I am trying to hear the words. But they fade. Handlebars, torched, chain smoking, alone, head, knees, nights, bookshelf. 2016.

Was I ever a child? I was young. But was I ever child. Was the patriarchal household forced upon me too young? My dad wasn't there much when I was a wayne. I don't blame him. He worked so we could continue. He didn't understand me at first. I wasn't a man. My mum didn't understand me because I wasn't a man. She still thinks I am. My mum left when I was 16. I pretended I didn't care at the time.

My headphones have ran out of battery. I have realised I've lost the case. I will have to wake earlier than expected to go get some cheap ones in the morning. I plan to still take a long sleep. But I fear another layer has settled in. The active mind. I will try to calm it, reason with it. Perhaps even try tire it out. I am not sure I could function another day around coworkers in this state. Not because I am not capable. But because I would probably fall asleep in the back of a cinema screen.

My dreams will be rampant.

I hope you sleep well. I hope I sleep well.