"You are traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land of imagination. Next stop, the Twilight Zone!"

"There is a fifth dimension beyond that which is known to man. It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call the Twilight Zone."

(Pictures are from Tumblr; In the Twilight zone)

After a break, I started watching the The Twilight Zone -series. And I must say, that the show is excellent. Of all the old tv-shows most of them are kind of naive, but The Twilight Zone has some darker subjects and it fascinates me since it has the supernatural dark aspects I am turned to.
Deals with devils, darker sides of the human nature, time travel, space travel, dark and strange irony, people with supernatural talents and much more.
I can see now how some of the modern day series - more like directors and writers - have been influenced by it. 
It reminded me of the great X-files with the themes it had, although the main plot is completely different. That's one long TV -series I would want to get into again some day.

(Pictures are from Tumblr; In the Twilight zone)

"What you are about to watch is a nightmare. It is not meant to be prophetic, it need not happen, it's the fervent and urgent prayer of all men of good will that it never shall happen. But in this place, in this moment, it does happen. This is the Twilight Zone."

(Pictures are from Tumblr; In the Twilight zone)

Hmph. I also would need an apocalypse to survive from to read all the books I want. The same goes with TV -shows and movies.

Cast your Spell on me

Surprisingly I found myself painting yesterday night. And more surprisingly: with acrylic colours. They've never been my favorites, but last night I painted with them to save time - oil colours dry up for a really long time. I have to say that now I'm really into acrylic colours. How fast the technique is and how interesting the colours look on the canvas. You can have thick solid layers and at the same time you can make something that looks lucid like water colour.
I wanted to make a few paintings for my wall so they're not great but good enough for me.

*

Here's an old painting I did. I don't have time to make new ones. But this one has many of the characteristics I like to use. Like a frame around the subjects - whether it's trees or shadows. I also like to use symbolism, mythology and halo's. This character's halo is not around her head though and that's because I had trouble with the painting. My teacher didn't like this painting and it's not my favourite either, but it has all the things I love to do, so in that sense I like it. 

(Copyrights belong to yours truly)

Oil on canvas. Small, about 50x30cm.

Prestuplenije i nakazanije

I have been getting more into baking, since I have a serious sweet tooth and my small salary keeps disappearing fast, so if you want to eat something good with as less trouble and money spending possible, you need to do things yourself. I hate baking, but I like to eat pastries and such, so I have gotten into it a bit.

Also I've managed to use less and less milk- and egg products, which is another thing I'm glad about. I won't justify my opinions - or more like general facts - about the industries inhuman treatment towards animals like cows and chickens or the fact about how the industry negatively affects on the global warming, since justifying my actions in my own blog is unnecessary. As some of you might know, some people consider being a vegan or vegetarian or any form of non meat-eater as a huge act of stupidity and so in case some of those people might read this, I refuse to go any deeper into the subject. Facts are - for example - in the internet for anyone to find, read and make their opinions upon, but I won't talk about that matter here.

And since I've been a bit busy with errands, like shopping for gifts for my family and getting myself a new piercing, I've been walking all around the town and haven't had the energy to photograph anything. Shameful, but the hope lives I get one day off to do so. I cannot even take a picture inside the apartment since the days are short and dark, and I haven't got enough light. All the pictures get turned very dark, and using the flash looks horrible and I didn't find any adjustments in the camera to help lighten the picture. So that's something I still want to do some day.

I'm disappointed with the choices in my local alcohol store, since I wanted to buy some rum, which I like to put in any hot beverages at this time of the year, but there wasn't many to choose from. For example the choices between a dry rum and a soft tasting rum was poor. So for a change I took the one and only soft tasting rum they had. And I have to say, it was quite delicious, even though I'm not an expert.

I would recommend this one. Since rum is a bit sweet, it fits glogg (glögi) or mulled wine.

*

(Copyrights belong to yours truly)

My mental state has been barely manageable. At times I feel horrible and there's a lingering horrifying feeling underneath. I can't explain it. I most likely need another change in my dosage. Another increase. The therapist said that at some point with the right dosage I should be alright again, but at this rate I'm fearing that I might fall under the list of people who don't get any help from the medication. All I wish is that I would get better again. I wish that more than anything.
Next week I'll ask for an increase, since there's no quicker way to see a doctor for that. I have to block my mind from anything bad and try to focus on anything else I possibly can.

"We carry Death out of the village"

(Copyrights belong to me)

-"And what of the TRUE God? Whose glory, churches and monasteries have been built on these islands for generations past? Now sir, what of him?"

-"He's dead. Can't complain, had his chance and in modern parlance, blew it."

(Copyrights belong to me)

-"And the ministers fled the island never to return. What my grandfather started out of expediency, my father continued out of love. He brought me up the same way: to reverence the music, and the drama, and the rituals of the old gods; to love nature and to fear it, and to rely on it and to appease it when necessary. He brought me up--"

-"He brought you up to be a pagan!" 

-"A heathen, conceivably, but not, I hope, an unenlightened one."

Sometimes I think I can see right through myself

After my last therapy-session I've been feeling quite good. I don't know if the talking helped or if the medication is taking more effect. But I'm slowly feeling a bit better - yet again. I feel though that I don't want to be left alone with this. That I need the discussion-help where I can tell about my personal demons and maybe leave them behind somehow. I do not know.

I now have more tolerance to deal with the personal and world wide problems. A bit more tolerance for it. I also have found something in me that I thought I got rid off years ago; hatred towards humankind. That's usually a phase, that some of us go through in our teens. Yet I find that whenever I get distressed from the news, I also get more angry and hateful. Anger is something that I have been dealing at times. And I'm finding our species more and more intolerable to withstand. And at those moments I feel like I need to get away from people. Get closer to nature, where I once stood. I've gotten distant from the comfort of a forest and these years of entrapment in the city-area have not been good to me. This is something I wish I can change back.

These fun gif-pictures belong to Oh my gore! <- in tumblr.

Because of all these sore wounds in me, I feel like the old me has died. People change over the time and sometimes the change can happen quite quickly. And maybe people can get parts of their old selves back, but when they don't they are forever changed. And that's how I feel about myself. The old me has died and now I'm shedding my old skin and slowly finding my new form - whatever it will be.
It's not easy to let go of the thought, that I was once something different. Something more carefree and untainted. I had a completely different world views. Inner strength that I no longer have. It pains me to remember what I used to be. It's painful to form myself again from whatever shell of a human I am now.

As you can notice I'm still in a dark place. There's nothing I can do about that. I can imagine reading depressing writing is difficult for any average person, but hopefully I have time to go walk outside this weekend and take some photographs to add here. Something new to lighten up the blog.

In the Shadow of our Pale Companion

The poem I added to my last post was one of the poems I need to write an essay about. It's really frustrating. This takes too much time. I have so many assignments to do and it's frustrating to get stuck on something that I don't enjoy doing and it requires a lot of work, like background information. I don't have the energy for this.

*

It seems my medication has increased my distress. My therapist told me that the medication is to blame. I had been wondering why I'm so distressed, so it's good to know why I feel so awful. Though since I talked with the therapist today I feel alright now. But who knows for how long.

It's probably a pain to read text written by a depressed person. I cannot help the way I see the world right this moment. 

*

One of my all time favourite bands: Agalloch. 
I usually listen to their songs at late fall and winter. It's amazing to walk in a blizzard while listening to their folkish metal. It's like traveling in some other world.

*

I got the camera. I tried it, and it works just fine. My own skills are lacking, but I'll learn as well as I can with the time I have for it.
It still brings me a little bit of joy.

(Copyrights belongs to yours truly)

Poisonous

W. B.Yeats

THE SAD SHEPHERD 

There was a man whom Sorrow named his Friend,

And he, of his high comrade Sorrow dreaming,

Went walking with slow steps along the gleaming

And humming Sands, where windy surges wend:

And he called loudly to the stars to bend

From their pale thrones and comfort him, but they

Among themselves laugh on and sing alway:

And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend

Cried out, Dim sea, hear my most piteous story!

The sea Swept on and cried her old cry still,

Rolling along in dreams from hill to hill.

He fled the persecution of her glory

And, in a far-off, gentle valley stopping,

Cried all his story to the dewdrops glistening.

But naught they heard, for they are always listening,

The dewdrops, for the sound of their own dropping.

And then the man whom Sorrow named his friend

Sought once again the shore, and found a shell,

And thought, I will my heavy story tell

Till my own words, re-echoing, shall send

Their sadness through a hollow, pearly heart;

And my own tale again for me shall sing,

And my own whispering words be comforting,

And lo! my ancient burden may depart.

Then he sang softly nigh the pearly rim;

But the sad dweller by the sea-ways lone

Changed all he sang to inarticulate moan

Among her wildering whirls, forgetting him.

"What if all the world's inside of your head, Just creations of your own? Your devils and your gods, All the living and the dead, And you're really all alone?"

(Copyrights belongs to yours truly)

Difficulties with concentration. I'm trying to study, but it's quite difficult. Analyzing poems is really difficult. I'm getting a headache.

I'm also very tired. Been tired for two days now. I wish I could just sleep through this dark winter. I've liked the fact that it's been a bit snowy lately and that the weather's been clear and beautiful, but still I'm so tired all the time, that I can't get anything done.

On a lighter note I bought myself a used old battery-based camera. I'll be able to do some quick artistic works with it, so that's a good news for me. I don't have time to do any art now that I'm working and then studying - or trying to - in my free time. After I get the camera and I get the chance to go take some pictures I'll share some of them here. It will be a nice chance to get some new pictures taken. All I have left are old, old photos. Very nostalgic and precious to me, but really old.

"Right where it belongs"

See the animal in his cage that you built
Are you sure what side you're on?
Better not look him too closely in the eye
Are you sure what side of the glass you are on?
See the safety of the life you have built
Everything where it belongs
Feel the hollowness inside of your heart
And it's all...
Right where it belongs

What if everything around you
Isn't quite as it seems?
What if all the world you think you know
Is an elaborate dream?
And if you look at your reflection
Is it all you want it to be?
What if you could look right through the cracks?
Would you find yourself...
Find yourself afraid to see?

What if all the world's inside of your head
Just creations of your own?
Your devils and your gods
All the living and the dead
And you're really all alone?
You can live in this illusion
You can choose to believe
You keep looking but you can't find the woods
While you're hiding in the trees

What if everything around you
Isn't quite as it seems?
What if all the world you used to know
Is an elaborate dream?
And if you look at your reflection
Is it all you want to be?
What if you could look right through the cracks
Would you find yourself...
Find yourself afraid to see?

"Every Day Is Exactly The Same"

I believe I can see the future

Cause I repeat the same routine

I think I used to have a purpose

But then again

That might have been a dream

I think I used to have a voice

Now I never make a sound

I just do what I've been told

I really don't want them to come around

Oh, no

Every day is exactly the same

Every day is exactly the same

There is no love here and there is no pain

Every day is exactly the same

I can feel their eyes are watching

In case I lose myself again

Sometimes I think I'm happy here

Sometimes, yet I still pretend

I can't remember how this got started

But I can tell you exactly how it will end

Every day is exactly the same

Every day is exactly the same

There is no love here and there is no pain

Every day is exactly the same

I'm writing on a little piece of paper

I'm hoping someday you might find

Well I'll hide it behind something

They won't look behind

I'm still inside here

A little bit comes bleeding through

I wish this could have been any other way

But I just don't know, I don't know what else I can do

Every day is exactly the same

Every day is exactly the same

There is no love here and there is no pain

Every day is exactly the same

The Crown of an Elk

(Copyrights belongs to yours truly)

I'm taking a bigger antidepressant dosage now - a bit bigger dosage. It's starting to work so I start to feel relieved once again.

I'm also slowly going into a hermit-mode. I'm starting to feel like I felt two years ago. A hermit who just does whatever he wants whenever he wants, living quietly by myself and enjoying it. I just get some interesting stuff for my house (I'm slowly trying to build a "mad scientist laboratory" for myself), watch movies and a couple of TV-series, eat and drink whatever I want and I've been trying to go for a walk in the weekends, but fortunately I've had social gatherings so I have enjoyed them instead, but otherwise I'm really deep in my own zone. It's starting to feel weird when I go somewhere where there's a lot of people, like stores and the town center. I don't think I feel anxious, but it just feels odd.

*

I've also finally decided the kind of tattoo I want. I've been planning for years, changing the idea's and locations every now and then, but now I believe I have a solid idea that requires nothing more than the funding.
Of course I will get back to the subject if and when I get the money for it.
I believe it's smart to get a small or average sized tattoo when you're the so called "tattoo-virgin", that you have no ink yet. For me it's always been about the money, but it's also been about the idea. As an artist - of sorts - I feel that I need to have something of my own in the picture. The tattooist makes it theirs when they put it on my skin, but before that the design has to have something of mine. The idea must come from me. I wouldn't want to force any artist to do any of my own drawn pictures, since that would be just copying. I want them to use their own talents at that point on, when they take the idea of it.
But I will update the situation when I know it will happen.

*

And another thing is that I'm currently looking for some really really cheap camera's - because I can't afford a good one now - nor later. I've been missing photographing for two years. It's kind of an instant artistic-relief. Just to take a camera and go outside. I've really missed that. Painting and drawing needs time that I don't have now that I'm studying - what would apparently be high school studies - on my free time after work.

I've made a couple of book finds, which are just great, and I've also for the first time bought myself a Joulu-tree. I don't want to use the word "Christmas" so "Joulu" is my country's equivalent but with the old pagan heritage and not the modern christian-nonsense. Apologizes, christian people. I just find the forced destruction of the old ways disturbing, and I don't want to endorse it. I rather take my own heritage and my family's traditions and mix them together. This subject would be a long one if I'd want to write about it, but I don't. This will do.

"The plastic face forced to portray, all the insides left cold and gray"

Normally at this time of the year I would be spending my weekends walking in the nature with a camera. I had this one crappy old digital camera, that me and my siblings got from a relative, who apparently thought that we would appreciate her old crappy camera when she buys a new better one for herself. A real benefactor. But the camera wasn't any good and so most of my photographs are technically unsound.

(Copyrights belongs to yours truly)

Sorry for sounding bitter. My medication is wearing off so I'm getting into a foul mood. Like my whole body was a one huge raw wound. It's no surprise the medication doesn't work anymore since after a misunderstanding I've been taking a lot less than I was supposed to. It still worked for a while.
Now I'm starting to take a bigger dosage. Hopefully it will have the desired effect. I'm so tired of this up and down affect. I get to taste the relieving normality before I come crashing down into this state that I do not want to think about. This is horrifying. I live on the edge of a knife when this gets bad. My reality starts to crack and I don't know what to do with myself. I was afraid that this up and down with medication would be a continuing problem, but the nurse that I'm seeing told me that with the right medication it shouldn't happen. I clutch on to that thought. 

The Day The World Went Away

I'd listen to the words he'd say

but in his voice I heard decay

the plastic face forced to portray

all the insides left cold and gray

there is a place that still remains

it eats the fear it eats the pain

the sweetest price he'll have to pay

the day the whole world went away

"In the blur of Serenity where did everything get Lost? The Flowers of Naivete buried in a layer of Frost - The Smell of Sunshine, I remember sometimes"

Today's the international Father's Day. I haven't written here much lately, since I've been thinking about writing something personal. More personal than sexuality or my depression. Something that some of the people in the world have experienced, and know of and some might be even interested in reading about it. But I found out that I am unable to write the things down. I think about it in my head, I make the sentences I could write, but I can't write them. I can't say them. And I guess I feel pressured for some reason, so I've been avoiding my own blog. It's almost as if I would think that I might force myself into doing something unpleasant. Which is ridiculous.

I also noticed yesterday, that I can't speak about some of the people I had to leave behind in the summer. I cannot say their names anymore. I can think about that and a lot of hard things, but I cannot talk about them. I really hope I will be able to find the words in therapy. If I can't tell the therapist about those things, they might come to the conclusion that I won't need their assistance. The things I was able to tell, with some difficulty and vague words, were not understood completely since there's a lot more behind the things I said. The things I said will not seem like uncommon or more or less nontrivial problems, because I wasn't able to tell the whole story. I guess I'm writing about this because I find this whole thing shocking. And I'm still writing about the things I know since there are other people fighting their own personal demons, and they might find the fact of having other's doing the same comforting.

*

Sol Invictus - In a Garden Green

This is love, This is hate 

This is chance, This is fate 

These the rich, These the poor 

This is peace, This is war 

In a Garden Green

This is dark, This is light 

This is wrong, This is right 

These the strong, These the weak 

These awake, These asleep 

In a Garden Green

These to hide, These to seek 

These to laugh, these to weep 

These build , these destroy 

This a girl, This a boy 

In a Garden Green

These are flowers, These are weeds 

These are healthy , These diseased 

These will bloom, These will rot 

This the tomb, This the cot 

This a path, This a wall 

This a plough, This a sword 

This is marble, This is clay 

This a throne, This a grave 

In a Garden Green

Is God Good 

is God Bad 

Is God Happy 

Is God Sad 

Is God Honest 

is God Sly 

Is God alive 

or did God Die 

In a Garden Green

And one of the saddest songs from Nine Inch Nails, "All the love in the world". When I feel like I'm sinking into the depths of the Great Below, Nine Inch Nails will be there to take me down. Even though Trent Reznor makes really depressing and sad music, he makes one of the most beautiful sounds with the most touching lyrics in the world. Desperation, melancholy and beauty go seamlessly together.

Nine Inch Nails - All the Love in the World

Watching all the insects march along

seem to know just right where they belong

smears a face reflecting in the chrome

hiding in the crowd I'm all alone

no one's heard a single word I've said

they don't sound this good outside my head

it looks as though the past is here to stay

I've become a million miles a...

why do you get all the love in the world?

why do you get all the love in the world?

why do you get all the love in the world?

all the jagged edges disappear

colors all look brighter when you're near

the stars are all afire in the sky

sometimes I get so lonely I could...

why do you get all the love in the world?

why do you get all the love in the world?

why do you get all the love in the world?

why do you get all the love in the world?

why do you get all the love in the world?

In a Blink of a Star

A bit fuzzy picture my friend took with her camera. Better than nothing, because here you can see the amazing pumpkin she carved. Just amazing.

And now I have the tickets to the Cinemare-event. I'm excited and a bit terrified all at once. I don't usually go out, and when I do, I lose all control of the environment and comfort. And it's not just that I'm expecting to be annoyed by people's rudeness, it's going to happen. All I need is a one person to be really rude, and it's always going to be me, who has to suffer with it. 

I guess today I'm feeling like the opposite of people-person.
Hopefully tomorrow night is going to be a fun and pleasant evening without any idiots ruining other people's night. 

"Turn your thoughts away, From cold, unfeeling light, And listen to the Music of the Night"

More thinking.

I have time to think. No social activities, just me and time.

And since I feel more stable, I can think about certain things. But my well being resides on me not thinking about anything bad and just keeping my focus on anything good.
I'm afraid that when I feel good and at least stable, that the therapist will say that I don't need their services. It's not like I can just list all the things that have affected me. When you keep things to yourself, it's not easy to talk about them.
 Talking with a stranger, even to a stranger who seems approving and willing to hear me is really difficult. I've already felt like I don't deserve any kind of therapy. Every doctor and nurse keeps reminding me about the lines they have, the demand, the people who need their help. I just wanted to talk about my demons to someone who's willing to listen. I thought that talking about the things, I've never had the chance to talk about, might help me put those things behind me. But if the world wants me to eat the drugs until I can live with myself and my demons again, without confronting them and just oppressing them more into my subconsciousness, I'll do that. I just can't deal with the guilt. I know there are lines and I know there must be thousands of patients who need therapy a lot more than me. I don't need persuading that I'm not an urgent patient. I thought about saying that to the therapist next time. I want to know if they there feel like I'm wasting their time and should stick to eating medication. 

After all my medication is working now, and I heard, that 
I was supposed to eat double of what I eat now. I was surprised, since I kept fearing that the medication wouldn't work. I don't mind the situation. Less medication means less poison into my body. I guess my previous medication didn't sit well with me. Or I'm starting to get pass the first bad waves I had concerning my loneliness and the messy break-up. But there's two weeks left until the highest effect of the medication starts to wear off, and I've felt the change happening, yet I hope I can keep the dosage and nothing bad happens.

*

I'm also thinking that I might not want kids even if I would ever find myself in a relationship. I do not find children necessary, nor do I find them particularly cute, so I lack the necessary qualities that make people want to have kids of their own. 
 I knew this one 3-year old kid, who was a really nice kid, and we played hide-and-seek and built fortresses from pillows, and of course I will like the future-nephew's and other kids I might come acquainted with (especially if I ever get to university to become a teacher), but I don't think I would ever want kids of my own.
 Especially crying babies freak me out. I use the word "freak", since when they cry like something was eating them, it sounds really creepy. I have never heard any sound as creepy as that. Especially when you are in the same space and the cry pierces the air all around you, and you can't leave. It really makes me feel stressed.
 I think this subject came to mind, since I'm watching this horror movie (in celebration of Halloween) where there's almost in every scene a crying baby. I don't really feel sorry for the baby, especially since it's most likely a crying sound coming from a recorder (they don't make babies cry if they need that crying-sound). It's not a scary effect, it doesn't create anything but annoyance.
 Hm, I really don't want to sound like a children-hater, but I'm finding hard to describe what I mean correctly. Most likely other people who feel about this as I do, can understand what I'm trying to say.

I've been just thinking about building my own future that I will spend by myself - and all of this is realism, not whiny pessimism - and I was thinking about making a shelter for homeless pets. Pet shelter's are always needed, and after some local situations, I though that this idea might be great. I love animals, I hate it when people kill and abuse them for various excuses and there's not enough people who rescue them. So this is something I'm thinking about to keep my mind in a good place. Something to focus on, when I plan for my future.

*

Also now that the Halloween is over, almost all candy has been eaten, and I've already taken down the decorations (they've been up since October the first) I'm slowly turning to Christmas, celebration of artificial lights. I'm hoping to purchase a plastic christmas tree for myself in a couple of weeks. You know, for my own delight. And most likely for my cat's delight. Although I hope that they don't start eating the tree.

(Copyrights belongs to yours truly)

Horrifyingly Happy Halloween!

Damn, I still don't have a camera. No evidence of my own Halloween celebration. Although after the party it feels like Halloween has already ended. Even my pumpkin has died.

Even though I felt like that, I watched the movie "Hobo with a shotgun" yesterday. Not really a ghostly Halloween- appropriate movie, but I still wanted to see what the movie was like. I mean that the title sounds funny, unfortunately the movie wasn't all that good. It was something you might watch once. 

And tonight I might watch something a bit more appropriate, the movie "Trick'r'Treat". It's also an average movie, but since it has the whole Halloween-theme, I feel it might be good enough. I've seen the classic horror movies so many times (like "Halloween") that I need a few years until I can watch them again. The less I remember about the plot twist's, the more I will enjoy watching it again.

All Hallows Eve

J'ai une âme solitaire

Appearances can tell a lot about people.

Well, true to a point, since I know that people who dress in black, leather and have metal all over their face are usually - almost every time - really nice and polite people. Maybe even shy or antisocial, but still nice and unprejudiced.

But people who dress like everyone else are very talented in hiding the really bitter, hateful, angry people. Or the hateful people want to look like everyone else since they're so hateful that they wouldn't belong to any group of people if they could be spotted.

I too get into the middle of the hateful people's prejudice and rudeness. Just any kind of people can suddenly turn out to be really, really rude and horrible. I would understand it, if I had done something horrible to those people, but I know I haven't, since I'm a kind and polite gentleman - that's something I can admit about myself without feeling too uncomfortable.

And when I meet these salespersons, bus drivers, customer service- people or strangers in the streets, and they are hostile towards me without any reason, it ruins the experience of going out.
Sometimes I actually get the feeling that I should apologize to those rude angry people that I'm paying them and using their services. They are just so rude towards me, that I get this automatic reaction that you get when you accidentally insult someone. You feel the need to apologize to that person, since that's what you usually do. You want to get along and you don't want to cause anyone distress on purpose. It's funny and also stressful to feel like that around hateful people. I haven't done anything to those people, but they treat me like I had insulted them and deserved their attitude. Like I was their number one enemy, and no polite behavior would apply to me. It's like they can barely contain their anger. 
I cannot help to think that my appearance has something to do with it, since I am always polite and try to smile. I happen to like black clothing, piercings and military-style - on top of other darker styled clothes I have. Maybe my appearance is something that those people cannot stand. Long hair, beard, piercings, black clothes and military boots are still too much to some people. I don't know what they imagine when they see me. What about me rubs those people in the wrong way. It's a mystery. Only thing I do know is that I don't deserve that kind of hate and rude behavior. No one deserves that.

*

I also have been fascinated by the notion of personal growth. I still feel like I lost something from me, from my personality, few months ago. Perhaps a part of my lingering innocence? Some of the faith towards human beings, naivety? I do not know what is it exactly. I just feel that I'm not myself anymore. And even when I beat this depression, I will never be what I was before.

I had a first appointment with a therapist. She was a nurse, so she wasn't as cold and distant as the doctors I've met. But people who are married or in a relationship cannot understand people who are single or who are lonely. That's one thing I was yet again reminded of when I talked with the therapist. When my dating-history is what it is, and when I'm the kind of person I am, I know the probability of finding love. And my way of thinking has nothing to do with pessimism. I've made my notions on facts and personal experience.
Especially after the realization that I have never had anyone who would have loved me back. So hearing the cliche's from people who are in relationships is insulting. They do not have the same kind of experiences.
If you've been in a relationship for years, haven't been single over a year, never been in a unhappy long lasting relationship you do not know how insulting your advice's are. Even I'm not as arrogant as to give advice's for people in a relationship that has domestic violence. Nor for same-gender relationship. If I don't understand how it is, how can I say anything about it?

Sometimes it feels like people are just reciting things they've read or heard somewhere. If you know any (recently) single friends, you should do two or three things: don't speak to them about how there's other "fishes in the sea" (and all the other horrible cliche's) and just listen to their worries silently, since you have no good advice's to give. And never start to recite any good things about being single and never side with the ex. No matter how objectively you can see things, the broken heart doesn't want to hear it. I'm slowly starting to enjoy things and tolerate myself after intense self-loathing. I don't want anyone telling me, if I overreacted in something or if I could have done something differently or better in the past circumstances. All I ask from my friends and family is to keep their advice's and lend me their time and listening ear when I need it. 

"There are things you can't get anywhere… but we dream they can be found in other people."

(Copyrights belongs to yours truly)

Pumpkins, pumpkins

Next year I'd like to go all American on Halloween.

http://www.flickr.com/photos/106843221@N02/with/10526085303/

Flickr doesn't let you use the url of the photographs - for understandable reasons. But just looking at any Halloween photographs, no matter what country they're from, if they are inspired by the over the top American-style, it looks amazing.

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5 things you might not know about asexuality.

                                                                                             (Clickety click ^)

It seems there was an asexual awareness week some time ago(?) I don't really pay attention to any awareness-weeks or -months. Like I heard from somewhere that November is called "Movember" for men's campaign where they grow mustaches for prostate cancer awareness. Anyway, I decided to share this informative webpage and informative list on some things that sexual people and people who are wondering about their sexuality might want to know about asexual's especially about the things we can experience even when we don't have sexual desire towards anyone. Some people might even find themselves to be asexual after reading that list. It's just that some people might have false preconceptions about asexual's, and might not want to date us because of the false information they have about us. To some we might seem like people who can't give anything to sexual people. Like we're emotionless or our body doesn't function like a regular body does. So if you think, that you don't know enough, go read that information.

Oh, the Horror!

Halloween party is over. I'm really happy getting my apartment look really appropriate for Halloween. Only I didn't have enough time to prepare the foods for the party, and my costume got lost in the mail, so I'm not happy with those things. Also I was a bit hurt that only one person stayed over the night. Even though I understand the reasons, but still I value the time I spend with my friends and family, since the time is short. Maybe too short counting the time we have on this planet. Which is years to seconds.

Still we ate - a lot - and played board games like Zombies!!! That was a good game. Action and trickery based competitive board game. You had to kill zombies and try to win while giving hard time for the rivals with making them freeze by fear for one round or infest some buildings with new zombies when the zombies before had been eliminated.

It was fun.

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And Cinemare - the horror movie marathon - is here:

Unfortunately the ticket prices have risen, but at least this year I will attend this.

The Cannibal

When I moved back to my hometown, I felt like I was getting inside a safe cocoon. Into the safety and silence of a womb. So I am holding on to that feeling of safety and familiarity as hard as I can. Even if the number of family and friends here grow fewer and I live with the ghosts of my memories, I still feel safe.

Over a year ago I was just moving with the flow, whether I was going in circles or moving forward I was free to do and to go anywhere. And I was getting prepared to leave my hometown as long as I could follow the only way I knew. Then she came into my life, and I knew I had to postpone my plans if I wanted to get something I never had before.
I'm not afraid of living alone. Loneliness is familiar and safe. I knew that. I knew that when I allowed myself to fall in love and take the risks that came with it. Every time I got frightened I said to myself, that I know loneliness, and I do not fear it. It's this new unknown road I want to follow. To see where it takes me. The new adventures and sights for me to see and discover.  
It's the death of my loved ones that I fear - intently I fear that.
So when I finally understood, that I lost my love, it felt like death. Like someone I really loved had died. It brought anger, desperation, depthless amounts of sorrow that cut in too deep and sickness filled my wounds and overflowed. But the anger of betrayal and exploitation kept me going.
Now my days are filled with living day to day. Surviving from the bad memories. Getting whatever enjoyment I can. Trying to keep the waters of my mind still and silent. As long as my mind is still, I know I can get better. That this won't get as far as I fear it might. There are too many monsters living inside my head that I can't let them get out. I need to deal with them and leave them behind me.

This is something I thought today, as I was walking home in the damp rainy dark, but with a smile on my face. I met my loved ones today, I talked with them for hours. I really wish all my weeks were like this.

(Copyrights belongs to yours truly)

The snow covered ground

And now I will share with you another subject, which is somewhat new even to me.

I don't know what kind of quality the modern school sex-education has, but in my time, which surprisingly isn't that long ago, there wasn't much talk about the fact how many different kind of people there are. I think there might have been something in the book we read, but we never really talked about it.
It came as a surprise even to me, since no adults talked about homosexuals, asexual's, transgenders or any kind of type of people who aren't white average heterosexuals. I had to learn about this whole another world, which existed all around me, from television series and movies and eventually from the internet.

Because all those natural things, those aspects of people were mysteries and unknown to me, I had to learn about those things from the hard way, which in my case meant years of wondering, feelings of being an outsider - though my basic being is an outsider, so it didn't take any more affect than it regularly does.

I had questions about these feelings I had, and I turned to the wondrous world of the world wide web to appease my concerns, and after some reading and weeks of self searching I carefully came into the conclusion that I was - in fact - an asexual. 
It's really something that varies from person to person. It appears and means different things in different people. I don't know what kind of mental image people have of asexuality. I thought it was being someone who doesn't want to have intercourse, and of course that notion is the right one. The whole matter in a nutshell.

I don't really think about that thing much. It made sense to me, and I've been going with it ever since. I think the percent of asexual's in the whole world was approximately 1%. At least trying to find comrades is a bit difficult inside the borders.

I think there's not much else to tell about asexuality. It's simply the opposite of sexuality. Sexual people can just imagine the opposite and that's it. And then there's the difference between people. Not every sexual's want to have sex all the time or want it in some specific way and there's just a lot of differences between all the people in the world. I can't point out some specific things about asexuality that would be universally true besides the fact I already established previously.

I enjoy beauty that I find appealing. I like to draw and paint women - with or without clothes, and usually without them, and it's all just my affection towards the gender and especially towards women that have the kind of beauty I find intoxicating. So I guess for sexual people you might add some desire in that scenario, but for me it's just adoration and affection.
I'm still figuring out what being asexual practically means to me. I'm still new in that. All I know is that I can love and I can feel all kinds of affectionate feelings. I might write about this subject later on as I try to understand it in more deeper levels. I mean that who thinks about average, plain things like their eye colour all day long. Maybe new kind of revelations come to as time goes by.

(Copyrights belongs to yours truly)

The Hanged Man

I decided to continue with me presenting these life-lessons I've obtained (unwillingly).

Depression is something I came acquainted with about a year ago. At least I think it was a year ago and I think it's depression. There's this tiny little detail in my family's medical history, that might affect me, and it's bipolar disorder. It means that you're depressed but you also get mania, and both of them are in their own way dangerous.
If I would have that (since I am not a shrink nor can I at this moment honestly say anything), I might have had it for some time now. Who knows.

And now I'm losing my trail of thought.

Before I got depressed, and I was getting more and more sure about what it was, I had had a quite average mental health. Nothing really surprising in that section.
Anyway, since depression is becoming a common epidemic, I thought I should write something about my own experience in that matter. Unfortunately I'm still right in the middle of stabilizing it, so I can't really give any story about defeating it.
All I can tell you is that when you start to suspect that you might have it, you need to get help right away. It's not something that goes away by itself. I know there's a group of people, a generation, that doesn't believe in psychology, mental disorders and medication (my father is one example of that), but that kind of thinking makes you your number one enemy - and enemy to every person you come in contact with. You're going to become a danger to yourself. And maybe even to others.

I got help, I got to wrestle with one doctor about the subject of needing therapy, but now I got an appointment for some kind of clinic thanks to another doctor.
A part of me is relieved and anxious about getting to pour all my heavy burden's out in the open, but I'm also a bit skeptical about what kind of person will be there to listen my worries. I've had an experience once about talking to one therapist who seemed to be really indifferent and/or bored and maybe a bit annoyed. That would be the perfect, fitting reaction to a cashier, who had to listen to some customer go on and on about their life, while the cashier was trying to go to a lunch break. But I don't want to talk with any medical professionals who look like they don't want to hear it. It was a really weird experience. I guess I feel a bit scared of running into another therapist who's like that. I can understand why some professionals would get tired at their work, but it's not good for the patients and customers to have their experience tainted with such indifference. I don't want to be a trouble to anyone nor do I want to waste anyone's time. So I'd rather keep my problems to myself, if there's no one willing to listen and care.

Still, my bad experiences aside, therapy is always better than remaining medicated. Medication still is a pure relief. Imagine something stretching your mind to the breaking point and something just lets it go before it breaks. It's relief and bliss. The feeling of normality. There's so many things in life we take for granted. Whether it's warmth, dryness or feeling psychically normal, we don't appreciate those things until they're taken away from us.
Still the medication doesn't affect you forever. I had at the beginning Escitalopram Actavis 10 mg, which I had to change into 20 mg after a few months, when my depression took a turn to worse. But the 20 mg didn't seem to work. It relieved the worst feelings at first, but soon it didn't affect me anymore. I had to change my medication. And the doctor described me Venlafaxin Orion 75 mg. I don't know what part of that medication worked, but it did. I've been feeling good for over a month now. I cannot remember what was the maximum effect-span until it stops working as well, but I guess this story is something that will continue over time. I'm hoping for a happy ending. All the people who have been depressed and known to me have gotten better in time, so there's always hope if you don't give up on yourself.

(Copyrights belongs to yours truly)

"The night is still and the frost -- it bites my face -- I wear my silence like a mask and murmur like a ghost -- Trick or Treat, Trick or Treat; The bitter and the sweet"

I wanted to share a thing about me, my gender and gender stereotypes in general. Short rant I wanted to write. It's a complicated subject, but I don't want to get too deep into it. It's not the reason why I wrote about it.

This is something that came to mind since I've been sharing things here like decorating for Halloween, listening old vintage songs and mooning over old books and the Moon and what not.

I've had a difficult life - well, who hasn't. Because of my past and the things I've learned, and because I've spent most of my life being alone by myself, I've learnt to be freely myself and express myself as I wish without being constrained with assumptions of stereotypical male-behavior. Maybe not in every occasion but most of the time I can be myself. I try to keep my appearances as neutral as possible with strangers, but I really don't like to pretend to be more masculine than what I really am. And by that I have to point out that I am talking about personalities here, although I know that some men have problems with physical appearances. Especially the goth men, who like male-skirts and eyeliner and all that.

The society seems to be more tolerant to let women be whatever they want and express their personality as they wish, so women can act feminine and/or masculine and they can have hobbies with all kind of things mixed together without causing public judgement and criticizing. Women can knit and go boxing without anyone even blinking their eye.
But men don't usually get that kind of tolerance to be whatever they want and do whatever they want. Usually men who act too feminine can get ridiculed - most likely by insecure weak-willed men, but sometimes even by women, which I found surprising. A gender that has been fighting to get the same rights as men can have double standards. But since it all depends on the person, I won't get into that subject. Many men have confronted that kind of women, but you're going to remember the negative experiences more likely than the positive ones.

Who would want to get badmouthed by strangers for things that don't really deserve of getting any kind of ridicule. Some might say that you shouldn't care about what other people say. But it's hard not to care, because you're not doing anything wrong but you get hated for doing what you like and just being yourself. And being hated is hard. No one should live their lives while being hated. I really don't know if being hated would make you handle it better with time. I rather keep my personal quirks to myself and to people who know me, and might even like those quirks. Then I don't have to deal with hatred and endless arguments.

Being hated for who you are goes for most of the artists, non-heterosexuals (or nonsexual's since to some sex measures the amount of masculinity), geeks, nerds, and pretty much most of the men who are passionate about something that isn't publicly accepted as a proper thing for men to do and like. It's the modern way, though. I don't personally know any guys who wouldn't have some hobbies or interests that wouldn't be considered unmanly, but I have only different kind of artists and nerds as my friends, so I can't say I would know how my reality differs from others. I know most of those guys don't care about what people think, but still I doubt they would go telling strangers about the dvd of "My neighbor Totoro" in their bookshelf. And that's the whole point of my rant.

I never apologize about who I am, and I think that's something everyone should learn to do. I don't know if you can learn to deal with being hated, but I think at least you should let yourself become what you are, what feels good and natural for you. You can't live in a constant role. I cannot even imagine what that kind of a life does to a person.

I felt like I needed to explain that I'm not a stereotypical guy, and there's not going to be any stereotypical manly-subjects here. And I will not apologize for myself.

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He trembles in the bitter wind

Until it's time for us to speak

Whilst others here are sleeping sound

I'll slip away by floorboard creak

Upon the hill he'll hear my secrets

Shock the colours to bleach inside

Whilst others there are sleeping sound

Just we two will confide

Listen to his body moan

Make a wish and send us home

To spin the gold and silver stitches

We can turn his rags to riches

With frosty jack on fingernail

Thro' shoe black smile he'll tell-a-tale

Come whisper thro' your lips of straw

A moment torn forevermore

Listen to his body groan

Make a wish to send us home

To spin the gold and silver stitches

We can turn his rags to riches

My so-called friends say you're not alive

I'll bake their bones for telling lies

Then pull the pastry from the pie

And pour the gravy in their eye

Listen to his body moan

Make a wish and send us home

To spin the gold and silver stitches

We can turn his rags to riches

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Wish I had some pictures of my own to show you, but I will leave that to this amazing Halloween-blog. All those pumpkin-oranges, sickly violets and foxfire-greens look just great.

Just click this image to check that blog out:

Following these updates gets me into the Halloween spooky-mood.